All together now:
Ma wife a-done left me, and the dog's on death row.
Drove the cellmate to the airport in a hurry and a flurry of feelings.
Got to work and did the yoga routine. That's better. Wonderful to have my own room in the city where I can do more or less what I want. And get paid for it.
Then I rang and booked the vet for a medical. I'll need a verdict on the dog. Wept after the call, then took a six pack of home brew to a colleague's office, brewed full strength for giving away.
It's a country and western life, serious and banal.
Arrived home with the urge to get oblooterated. After a whole bottle and a half of beer, I watched a lively discussion with Howard Jacobsen, a likeable thinker and talker. I don't think I've had a Jewish hero before.
Actually, there was Woody Allen, when he went ahead to his pub jazz gig, and let someone else pick up his Oscar.
- iPod post