The Visible Woman...April 24, 2003

We get up and FFP showers and dresses. He wears a white shirt and tie to go to work upstairs in his office even though he doesn't plan to go out to clients. He doesn't plan to see anyone. He is so disciplined. I put on a polo and shorts, give my hair a desultory hit with my hands. I feed the dog and let her out.

And we take the car to the Honda Place (First Texas) in our neighborhood. I make myself a cup of coffee and grab my book, figuring it will take FFP a minute to get through the process of checking in. He is standing there with his hands on hips (figuratively if not literally) when I get there. The car is making no noise. Hasn't made a noise in the several miles to the place. It made an awful whine for a block last night. Hmmm. Well, there was something on the garage floor that might have been a leak and not water from the A.C. Or else rainwater or water from the A.C. mixed with oil on the floor from long ago. He wants to forget about it. I say 'check for leaks.' He's not happy about it but he does it. What was that noise? The thing I hate more than a car making a noise is when it abruptly stops. I know nothing about cars. I assume that's clear. Later the car guys will call and they will be clueless, too. They will check for leaks (none). They will drive it. No noise. Oh. Well. But. They won't charge us. We have purchased three cars and innumerable 'maintanence procedures' from them. We deserve as much.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm still giving exercise and social interaction a priority. (In spite of my new leaf.) On that note, I call my friend Pam and go pick her up and we go to the club. I do 50 minutes on the recumbent bike and some ab and back exercises. (I still hate those, by the way. But I'm trying to do them anyway.) Pam stretches and does the treadmill.

While on the bike, I read Larry McMurtry's Paradise. He writes as he visits Tahiti and goes around the South Sea Islands on a freighter with a 'Holiday Inn on top' for a few tourists. He wants to write about his parents' marriage, their life in West Texas so he goes on this trip. I don't really get that, but it's an interesting book and he wishes he'd brought a book about Gaugin and I wish I had one to read, too, for a moment. And I wish I could go visit his store in Archer City.

After the workout I take Pam back to where she is staying (at another friend's house) and we talk about the book she is writing and different things and I drink water. Then I go shopping.

I go to Northwest Hills Hardware and pay too much (I guess, I didn't shop around) for some curved pruning shears for my mother-in-law (who misplaced hers). But I avoid the big box stores sometimes. I go next door to Northwest Hills Pharmacy, just to look around. They carry a Lett's travel diary I like ($10) and I decide to get one. It's actually a good buy, I think, I is a slim volume with a ribbon bookmark, metal corners, a plastic pocket in the back for receipts and a nice set of world maps in the back for quick reference. I buy a picture frame that I'm going to use for a picture of my mom for the lady who bought the looms and stuff. It's woven leather and I think that's appropriate.

Then I go to HEB. The one off Far West that has such an odd arrangement. At first I can't find everything I want. (They don't have the stuff at all I was going to use some coupons for. ) Eventually, though, I get potatoes, apples, four bags of salad stuff, some mushrooms, some broccoli crowns, green onions, several kinds of salad dressings, mayo, jalapenos, wheat bread, sharp cheddar cheese, shredded cheddar cheese, two bags of tortilla chips and four cans of tuna. And maybe something else, I don't know. I always look at what other people buy, hoping to learn something about them. The woman behind me buys chicken, pork and fajita meat. She makes up for the lack of meat in my basket. Maybe she's having a barbecue.

I go home and eat a couple of bowls of salad and a piece of salami. A little later I drink a bottle of water and a couple of ounces of aged sharp cheddar.

The house is abuzz. The handyman's wife is painting the bathroom. The maid has come back to finish up as she left early Tuesday. The handyman and his grandson are putting a roof on the gazebo.

FFP wants to go get his (apparently running perfectly) car so I take him and then go to his parents and take the pruning shears. She likes them and keeps insisting they are her Mother's Day present. (FFP has a pasta pot put away somewhere for her, though. Actually, he didn't put it away, I did and I actually know where.)

I talk to the in-laws a long time (or so it seems) and then I go home. All the worker bees have cleared out. It sure seems like we are always having people here to fix stuff. (Do it ourselves? Shut up.)

I almost decide to sit at my computer while FFP goes to the club but I decide that we drift into different orbits too often. So I go with him, ride the bike a little more, finish the McMurtry book, sweat. I sign up for three tennis things including one tomorrow called Margarita Mixed Doubles. While we are on the machines, FFP sees that the AMR president has resigned. I wonder if he really thought he needed a bonus while the rank and file gave up some salary and the company lost a billion dollars? I'm sure he will get a good 'severance.' I hope the time has come when we don't let execs profit when the company doesn't.

At home, we make salads and cook some salmon in some lime ginger sauce FFP finds. We have a banana for dessert and check out the party Merlot I bought. It's not bad. Sad to say, we watch part of Michael Jackson's home movies during the meal. This is what television has been reduced to in the U.S. The war as home movie and actual home movies of stars with odd habits and odder plastic surgery.

I watch part of a CSI. I read some newspapers. And I go to bed reading The Object Stares Back. I drift into dreams of cars. I'm riding in a crew cab pickup with a very short man driving. I open the passenger side and am surprised to find him sort of in the middle of a very modified front seat. "You want to drive?" he asks tauntingly. In another vignette my own car stalls when going around corners and then always starts again. My car does need a maintenance trip, maybe next month. I'm sorry car gods, if I offended with the insistence on checking out the Accord! Mea culpa.

			new leaf We get up and FFP showers and dresses. He wears a white shirt and tie to go to work upstairs in his office even though he doesn't plan to go out to clients. He doesn't plan to see anyone. He is so disciplined. I put on a polo and shorts, give my hair a desultory hit with my hands. I feed the dog and let her out. And we take the car to the Honda Place (First Texas) in our neighborhood. I make myself a cup of coffee and grab my book, figuring it will take FFP a minute to get through the process of checking in. He is standing there with his hands on hips (figuratively if not literally) when I get there. The car is making no noise. Hasn't made a noise in the several miles to the place. It made an awful whine for a block last night. Hmmm. Well, there was something on the garage floor that might have been a leak and not water from the A.C. Or else rainwater or water from the A.C. mixed with oil on the floor from long ago. He wants to forget about it. I say 'check for leaks.' He's not happy about it but he does it. What was that noise? The thing I hate more than a car making a noise is when it abruptly stops. I know nothing about cars. I assume that's clear. Later the car guys will call and they will be clueless, too. They will check for leaks (none). They will drive it. No noise. Oh. Well. But. They won't charge us. We have purchased three cars and innumerable 'maintanence procedures' from them. We deserve as much. Back home, I decide that I need to turn over a new leaf. I read an article last night about weight loss. Exercise isn't enough, calories count, sodas are bad, yada yada. In spite of the weight I've lost (almost entirely through the power of exercise I'm down twelve pounds in seven months) the article made me feel like a fraud. A nacho-eating, soda-drinking, alchohol-consuming fraud. Of course, the article seemed obsessed with the scales. And also with faster results. They said 'weigh often.' They touted the case of a woman who began at eight or ten Pepsis a day and, miraculously, lost weight when she stopped drinking them! Duh. And she had the weight to lose, too. (She was hundreds of pounds overweight.) Sure, I could lose thirty or forty pounds. After that, though, I might start to look like a refugee. I started to say a model, but, you know.... Not. Anyway, yeah, I had a Dr. Pepper last night. I'm not eating enough fruits and vegies. And, on another front, I'm not getting enough done. I have things I want to do. I must make progress. I'm going to turn over a new leaf and be productive. First to download the picture I took last night of Mercedes, the front desk general and master maitre d' (as if that described her) of Fonda San Miguel. More the matriarch as if it were a real Mexican haceinda. I go up to the Mac to do it. I could do it on my machine if I switched the card into another camera. But my trips up to the Mac where I've co-oped the USB port to download pictures is my brief time to learn the Mac. I keep a book at OS 9 in front of it. I always read a little and experiment as well as get the pictures on a ZIP disk. I come back to my machine and convert the picture to grayscale for Forrest's newspaper article and to Visible Woman format to appear here. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm still giving exercise and social interaction a priority. (In spite of my new leaf.) On that note, I call my friend Pam and go pick her up and we go to the club. I do 50 minutes on the recumbent bike and some ab and back exercises. (I still hate those, by the way. But I'm trying to do them anyway.) Pam stretches and does the treadmill. While on the bike, I read Larry McMurtry's Paradise. He writes as he visits Tahiti and goes around the South Sea Islands on a freighter with a 'Holiday Inn on top' for a few tourists. He wants to write about his parents' marriage, their life in West Texas so he goes on this trip. I don't really get that, but it's an interesting book and he wishes he'd brought a book about Gaugin and I wish I had one to read, too, for a moment. And I wish I could go visit his store in Archer City. After the workout I take Pam back to where she is staying (at another friend's house) and we talk about the book she is writing and different things and I drink water. Then I go shopping. I go to Northwest Hills Hardware and pay too much (I guess, I didn't shop around) for some curved pruning shears for my mother-in-law (who misplaced hers). But I avoid the big box stores sometimes. I go next door to Northwest Hills Pharmacy, just to look around. They carry a Lett's travel diary I like ($10) and I decide to get one. It's actually a good buy, I think, I is a slim volume with a ribbon bookmark, metal corners, a plastic pocket in the back for receipts and a nice set of world maps in the back for quick reference. I buy a picture frame that I'm going to use for a picture of my mom for the lady who bought the looms and stuff. It's woven leather and I think that's appropriate. Then I go to HEB. The one off Far West that has such an odd arrangement. At first I can't find everything I want. (They don't have the stuff at all I was going to use some coupons for. ) Eventually, though, I get potatoes, apples, four bags of salad stuff, some mushrooms, some broccoli crowns, green onions, several kinds of salad dressings, mayo, jalapenos, wheat bread, sharp cheddar cheese, shredded cheddar cheese, two bags of tortilla chips and four cans of tuna. And maybe something else, I don't know. I always look at what other people buy, hoping to learn something about them. The woman behind me buys chicken, pork and fajita meat. She makes up for the lack of meat in my basket. Maybe she's having a barbecue. I go home and eat a couple of bowls of salad and a piece of salami. A little later I drink a bottle of water and a couple of ounces of aged sharp cheddar. The house is abuzz. The handyman's wife is painting the bathroom. The maid has come back to finish up as she left early Tuesday. The handyman and his grandson are putting a roof on the gazebo. FFP wants to go get his (apparently running perfectly) car so I take him and then go to his parents and take the pruning shears. She likes them and keeps insisting they are her Mother's Day present. (FFP has a pasta pot put away somewhere for her, though. Actually, he didn't put it away, I did and I actually know where.) I talk to the in-laws a long time (or so it seems) and then I go home. All the worker bees have cleared out. It sure seems like we are always having people here to fix stuff. (Do it ourselves? Shut up.) I almost decide to sit at my computer while FFP goes to the club but I decide that we drift into different orbits too often. So I go with him, ride the bike a little more, finish the McMurtry book, sweat. I sign up for three tennis things including one tomorrow called Margarita Mixed Doubles. While we are on the machines, FFP sees that the AMR president has resigned. I wonder if he really thought he needed a bonus while the rank and file gave up some salary and the company lost a billion dollars? I'm sure he will get a good 'severance.' I hope the time has come when we don't let execs profit when the company doesn't. At home, we make salads and cook some salmon in some lime ginger sauce FFP finds. We have a banana for dessert and check out the party Merlot I bought. It's not bad. Sad to say, we watch part of Michael Jackson's home movies during the meal. This is what television has been reduced to in the U.S. The war as home movie and actual home movies of stars with odd habits and odder plastic surgery. I watch part of a CSI. I read some newspapers. And I go to bed reading The Object Stares Back. I drift into dreams of cars. I'm riding in a crew cab pickup with a very short man driving. I open the passenger side and am surprised to find him sort of in the middle of a very modified front seat. "You want to drive?" he asks tauntingly. In another vignette my own car stalls when going around corners and then always starts again. My car does need a maintenance trip, maybe next month. I'm sorry car gods, if I offended with the insistence on checking out the Accord! Mea culpa.

	Mercedes Ramos commanding the front desk of Fonda San Miguel "To be clever enough to get a great deal of money, one must be stupid enough to want it. " Chesterson "The greedy man is pretty sure to get what he wants---but not enough of it." unattributed, 20,000 Quips and Quotes edited by Evan Esar
	JUST TYPING I worry About spending $25 on shears... but my mother-in-law is more than $25 thrilled I worry about prices in the grocery stores About buying an expensive frame For my late mother's picture To go be with her collection of books I enjoy these worries... Even as I don't really have any. Lucky once to make money. Lucky twice to keep some. Lucky thrice to enjoy it.

Thursday, April 24, 2003