7.28.02 – young love and old

i love these mornings. we sleep in late and wake to the deep blue sky and sunshine of late summer. outside my bedroom window the lake glimmers in the breeze. zeke is asleep at the foot of the bed, his leopard spots glimmering in the sun. we go to the state court cafe, this little greasy spoon that serves breakfast all day, and sit opposite each other, not talking much, but devouring omelets and the newspaper. the air is cool and constantly stirring from the fan in the corner. we sit in the furthest corner of the diner and do the sunday crossword together over second and third cups of coffee, and neither of us is in a rush to be anywhere else.

i sat down at my computer an hour ago to buy a plane ticket to boston (location of next job), and i find i’ve been procrastinating since then. i’ve already signed the contract – i am going to boston – but somehow when i click “purchase” on ual.com and commit $400 to the enterprise, then leaving, and the end of this summer, will really seem real. maybe it can wait till tuesday.

on a lighter note, i get great pleasure from making fun of ann landers, who i think was an old fuddy-duddy whose advice was largely outdated and stuffy (i’d been dead set against her ever since she came out against the stanford marching band after their little P.R. snafu with notre dame). from one of her posthumously published columns:

Dear Ann Landers: My husband is 80 years old, and I am in my early 70s. We have been married four years. We recently took a short vacation. During our love-making, I commented that my husband’s toenails were rather sharp. I promised to cut them as soon as we returned home. However, without a word to me, my husband made an appointment with a woman who lives in an adjoining mobile home park. She advertises herself as an “Experienced Toe Trimmer,” although she has no special training that I know of. I was not happy that he took his “business” elsewhere, especially since this woman wears shorts on the job.”

hmm. the things we have to look forward to in our old age. what i want to know is, why can’t he trim them himself? is he too old to reach his own toes? i think toenails are kind of yucky – trimming someone else’s doesn’t seem like the most sensual experience.

speaking of sensual, i’m off to buy a norah jones CD.