AUSTIN, Texas, Apr. 8, 2005 —It used to bother me to miss one thing for the other. I was thinking of signing up for a casual tennis event at the club today and on the weekend and had been working on the gal who played with me yesterday to participate with me. But with Dad's iffy health, I decided not to do it. Now I'm relieved. We have dinner with friends tonight and the rest of the weekend to fill with whatever comes to us. It no longer bothers me to miss things. Wherever you are, there you are. Dig it. It is in that spirit that I don't miss working. Although I do wish I had access to my the insider's view of my old company right now.

Why? Because when I went over there the other day for a party there were a couple of people whose names escaped me. They all came to me since (or while I was talking to them) except one. And it has been bothering the heck out of me. So I wish I had access to inside the company so I could remember it by looking at memos or walking over to where the guy sits and looking at his nameplate. It would just put the search out of my brain for that guy's name. I was never tight with the guy and I may never see him again. Mostly, though, I don't miss working. I could keep up interesting people and things there but I'd be sacrificing what I do and learn out here. In the world. Not cooped up forty or fifty or sixty hours a week with a slice of the tech world and office politics. Not that it isn't interesting. But is it that interesting? Not at all. I'd only do it if I needed the money and I hope I don't.

I finish up a pretty good night sleep around eight, make the bed, get coffee, stand in the backyard with the dog, soaking up the crisp morning. I write some (OK, just the journal) and look around the WEB.

I'm ready to be out the door for my work out when my dad calls and says he is stuck at the grocery store and his van won't strat. So I go over there, try to use the battery cables but still nothing. I call AAA and get a tow and take him to a place to get it fixed and take him home. I sit with him, reading and copping some cereal and milk and they call and say the van needs a starter motor and it will be a while and over $300. So I go home and go for a workout. Well...like I said, good thing I don't have to play tennis at 4PM since I'll probably have to take him to get his car. And that also blows my plan to come home from the gym and clean up some stuff around here. Because after the gym, I really just have time to do a couple of things, shower up and the garage calls. I go back over there, pick him up and we get the car. I cannot see another trip home before we go have dinner with friends. Besides, Dad is supposed to go, too, and maybe I should just drive him. I call FFP to remind him to take wine to our friends' house and I sit down with Dad and read the paper. [Note to self: he only gets The Austin American-Statesman and it is easy to finish. My problem in getting all the papers read is getting The Wall Street Journal and The New York Times as well as picking through the occasional weekly.]

A little before six I drive my dad to our friends' house (which is between his house and ours). FFP is there with wine. We eat some salmon dip and crackers while waiting on our friend who is back for a few days from Jackson Hole. I eat too many crackers with too much dip.

Our other friend arrives and we have salad, poached salmon, potatoes, asparagus and some fruit for dessert with chicory coffee. We have wine throughout, of course. We sit in the living room and talk until Dad wants to go home and then I take him.

FFP and I watch a Law and Order and he watches Numbers but it's a rerun and I've seen it and I mostly concentrate on the papers. But I still haven't looked at a couple of sections of the WSJ and The NY Times. I've been reading old papers on the exercise bike and various other places. But I still don't exactly catch up. And I'm ready to read books again on the bike. I guess I'm just a slow reader. I mean, I toss some sections (sports, mostly), scan some sections (pope stories, business misdeeds) and I'm not interested in lots of articles in Arts and Lifestyle type sections even though they are my favorites. Ah, well. There are many worse problems than not getting the papers read. It's like I told my dad: there are worse problems than having the car break down. Being in a car wreck or having the car break down and not having the wherewithal to get it towed and fixed. As the boy hero says in My Life as a Dog, "You have to have things to compare to. You could be Laika." [Ed. note: Laika was a dog sent into space who suffocated when his oxygen ran out. I saw a picture of him in a National Geographic while sitting at my dad's house yesterday. I noticed Dad's coffee table was entirely covered with neat stacks of two or three issues of different magazines: Popular Mechanics, Natl. Geo, Texas Monthly, Birds and Blooms. All stuff other people gave him gift subscriptions to, more than likely.]

Tomorrow maybe my dad won't need anything and I can do some chores around the house. After sleeping in and getting some exercise, of course.