Wednesday

July 25, 2001

escape the grind

I awake from a very strange dream. There is no actual violence. I don't actually seem to be in the dream, but sort of playing another character. Several people know there have been murders and the bodies are hidden in this upright freezer. People who know seem to be getting murdered, too. That seems precarious. Then I'm drinking water out of one of those little ceramic teacups you get in Japanese places. And someone tries to pour tea in it. "No," says the person who would be me if I were in the dream, "I'm drinking water."

Work has its disappointments. I seem to be faced with all the things I did not achieve right when I should be kicked up about what I did achieve. But so it goes.

At lunch, SuRu and I go to Cafe Mia on Far West. It's a departure from yesterday's Taco Cabana crowd. Decidedly yuppie. The place is a CF like La Madeleine. Everything goes a little slowly assembling the food. The girl at the register has to get cups, take credit cards, finish toasting sandwiches. We almost bail for the barbeque joint around the corner. But we stick it out and eat crab cakes on a nice, fresh salad.

No workmen eating here. Business guys, two very young guys at the next table and one seems to be counseling the other on marriage and being a minister. Several older woman/younger woman pairs with flashes of makeup put on by old eyes and leopard skin. One younger woman shows the older what appears to be a balance sheet or P&L. There are several young men in baggy shorts with shirt tails out. Looking like yuppie children imitating gang wear. Perhaps college boys home for the summer lounging around Mom and Dad's pool. In the evening, FFP tells me that his friend Vernon saw me in the cafe. I didn't see him or didn't recognize him out of context. He has moved out of our neighborhood and, more or less, into this one.

My friend LG and I usually get together when mutual friends are here from out of town. Just recently it was not only my friend Pam, who comes often, but also Rose, who had never been here to see us. I can't remember when that was and I can't find it in my journal at the moment. Old age and senility are terrible things. But the point of all that is that tonight we decided to get together even though no one was here from out of town.

SuRu, LG, FFP and I went to Four Seasons. We had a nice Truchard Merlot. I had the tuna tartar pictured and an appetizer sampler. And a taste of LG's New Zealand venison. We sat in the bar and talked about things. LG and I were amazed that it had been six years since we went to Berlin to see the wrapped Reichstag. And almost a year since Al's Big Night. Time flies. It's good to visit with your friends.

tuna tartar with cucumber carapaccio

I got a note with the subject line: Thanks from a Stranger. Someone who works at WBBJ-ABC TV in Tennessee reads this journal and saw my note about pushing the journal further into obscurity. This reader didn't want me to do that. She likes my journal. There really are strangers out there who have found their way here. Makes you go, "Hmm."