When I started doing these owl pellets again, I thought: Great, I can get back to some of the journalling type shit that blogging used to be. Now I’m realizing how dull my life is.
Wake up, write, workout, shower, make my wife a cup of tea and kiss her goodbye, write, workout, write, have a sandwich or a bowl of cereal, write, workout, write, chores, putter, listen to music, workout, read a bit, welcome my wife home, watch baseball, have dinner, go to bed. Repeat.
I’m not complaining. Far from it. I’m interior and I love routine. This is perfect.
Aside from making a bunch of progress on a new novel (the invisible terrain where my head spends most the day) I’m also becoming muscular. This isn’t cosmetic. We lack a car and this city is built for them. I need strength to carry groceries and perform basic functions. There’s a lot of lifting to be done and I’m the only equipment we have.
Best shape I’ve been in since my potato factory days.
Also, Giants beat Detroit last night in the first game of the world series. This is how the best pitcher in baseball looks when he watches the ball leave the park.
I can’t stop watching that. There’s a moment, after Verlander says “Wow” when he looks right at the camera, his eyes asking: Did you see that? You got that on tape, right? What’s happening?
What happened is San Francisco’s loveable third baseman, The Panda, became only the fourth player in the 108 years of the world Series to hit 3 homeruns in a single game. Legendary.
Anyway, your pellets . . .
Someone In Detroit Wants To Trade His House For World Series Tickets: In fairness, Detroit does love baseball. And it is the World Series.
Idiot Detroit Columnist Labels San Francisco A “Strange Baseball Town” Because The Food Is So Amazing: Also, encoded homophobia. Aside from that, just about everything this chap professes to hate about baseball in SF is exactly what makes it so appealing to so many other people.
Stockton Breaks Homicide Record in “Bizarre” Shooting Spree: Since arriving in Sacramento, I’ve been fascinated with the plight of Stockton. Population under 300,000, it’s seen a record 59 homicides this year. (By the time you read this or I finish writing it, that number may have grown.) Think about the odds on that: A 60 in 300,000 chance of being killed. You’d buy that lottery ticket.
Now, before I moved to the states, I probably would’ve thought: Oh, it needs gun control. Now, I’m not so sure. The city is bankrupt, there really isn’t anyone to enforce gun control or to control anything and would you be the one wanting to tell a resident that they can’t own a gun?
It’s a Deadwood past. A collapsed future. A present day clusterfuck.
And, on the headphones . . .