Hoppin’ place. Wednesday. I got three day-old cream cheese bran muffins. Y: leg press, back press, roman chair, swam a couple of laps. Hot tub, sauna.
In the locker room, chatted with Mike, another lawyer and the second half of the “six months/five years” conversation that I overheard several weeks ago. He straightened it out for me. The conversation was the other fellow (Harry) doing a bad job of apologizing. Harry hadn’t been to the Y for awhile. Mike asked Harry’s wife about the absence; Harry had some injury and was convulsing at home. Mike saw some rubber sandals the said “Slacker” in bright yellow on the bottom, bought them, and gave them to Harry as a gag gift. Harry didn’t like that. Mike took them back.
Merle, another old guy, talked about the 17-year olds boys from Hudson, Wisconsin who murdered the parents of one of the boys. Shocking to him because they’re intelligent, well educated. Merle then also talked about living outstare and how he and some friends would sponsor gun safety classes every year.
Am thinking about the idea of putting up a Sacred Harp wake on my web site. Have to google that, see if there is such a thing. Check out MPR’s Musicpedia as well, since that would be a similar site.
Read both parts of John McPhee’s article in the New Yorker about coal trains. In there he describes a railroad engineer, a big man, who had a loud, explosive, reckless abandon laugh, but a laugh that, once unleashed, would end immediately and suddenly. My yoga teacher is like that: she’ll say something that she finds funny, laugh, get louder, and then stop. Kind of makes me think of Lilly Tomlin as the telephone operator.
Then old man and the dog are out front on one of the white plastic patio chairs on the sidewalk, against the building. He is wearing a pretty serious hat. With this being mid-October, the patio furniture is being to look out of place.
Yesterday, Madeleine announced that she had made the” A” team in soccer. The day before, she was bummed because she was on the “B” team. How fortunes change.