There's this weird stereo thing going on outside in the rain. A robin sings in the tree across the parking lot and on my side of the parking lot a mockingbird imitates a robin. This mockingbird is not nearly so annoying as last year mainly because I've been running my air conditioner all night so I don't hear him. He'll probably start imitating an airconditioner next. That would be nice if it cured him of the car alarm. And so what if the mockingbirds (mr. & mrs.) and the house finches and purple finches are eating all my raspberries. For about a week I felt horribly guilty about not getting out to pick them as they ripened. Now I like the idea that the birds are having a little fiesta every morning in my 10' x 10' "yard". And if the neighbors complain about the purple bird poop, so what!?!
So, I'm not Thoreau with the bird observations. Mockingbirds probably didn't imitate car alarms in the 19th century and the little finches with the red heads probably hadn't been introduced then either. Anyway, so what am I doing with my life and when am I gonna get serious?
I slept til after 11:00 this morning after a miserable hot/humid night. I felt like a zombie for most of the afternoon. I ran into Tom at Starbucks (formerly the Coffee Connection) and swilled down 3 shots of espresso. He briefed me on a review he'd just read in the New York Times about a book whose thesis is that primitive humans had wars. Neither of us were surprised. We continued our ongoing discussions of Rousseau, Lithobolia, Emerson, and Paul Marion. Apparently I missed a Paul Marion reading in Lowell last night. He read two of my favorites: the one about the plastic army men and the one about hearing French on the radio at night. Tom said he meant to call me but he doesn't remember why he didn't. I was out all day and evening anyway. I told him about my urban beach adventure yesterday and he thinks I should make the glass into art of some kind.