Lists, Existential Angst, and other Stuff.

Let's start with the lists.  When I left you, I was reading Dirty Love by Andre Dubus III.  I do love reading beautiful stories.  Also just completed, or still on my nightstand in progress, or just waiting to be read are:

1. Martin Cruz Smith's newest Renko mystery Tatiana (those of you of a certain age will remember Gorky Park);
2. From Doon with Death, Ruth Rendell's first Inspector Wexford mystery (written in 1964, can you believe?);
3. and No Man's Nightingale, her most recent, written this year;
4. Telegraph Avenue, the (reasonably) new book by Michael Chabon, who wrote Cavelier and Klay, and the Yiddish Policeman's Union;
5. Flight of the Eagle, Conrad Black's history of America (yes, I'm still reading it, it is another doorstopper, it will take me a while!);
6. Jung Chang's new book on the Empress Dowager Cixi (she also wrote Wild Swans, which I have not yet read - I'll wait to see if I like her writing style before I order it - I swear Amazon is like crack cocaine!);
7. The Bully Pulpit, Doris Kearns Goodwin's Pulitzer Prize winning book about Teddy Roosevelt, Taft, and "the Bully Years of Journalism".  She's the one who wrote Team of Rivals, about Lincoln's cabinet, on which the recent movie Lincoln was based (great book too!);
8. A new biography of the composer Benjamin Britten;
9. Oh, and there's a biography of Bruce Springsteen kicking around here somewhere, waiting to be read.

It's one of the greatest thing about technology; you can see a book review, or get a recommendation from a friend, or just find an author you like and want to read more, or develop an interest in one topic or another, and presto, it can be instantly downloaded to your Kindle to read, or IPod to listen to, or arrive via Amazon in your mailbox in one or two days.  I love it.

Okay, next list.  This one is a vocabulary list.  How many of these words do you know the meaning of?

1. hecatomb;
2. exiguous;
3. perfervidly;
4. asceverating;
5. fissiporous;
6. contumely;
7. jejune;
8. condign;
9. coruscation;
10. febrile;
11. revenant;
12. pelagic;
13. acidulous;
14. redomontade

Okay, I confess.  I had to look them all up.  They all came from Conrad Black's biography of Nixon.  It is certainly true that Black never uses a $5 word when there is a $10 one available, but the writing is certainly memorable.

Okay, this one is more fun, and is one of the reasons I love Palm Springs:

1. East Buddy Holly
2. West Buddy Holly
3. Dinah Shore
4. Bob Hope
5. Frank Sinatra
6. Kirk Douglas
7. Gerald Ford

What do these things have in common?  They are all the names of streets in my every day drives from here to there, and it is not an exhaustive list either.  No wonder I feel as though I were in a time warp!

All right, enough of that.  What else is going on, I hear you ask.  Well, aside from the usual bridge, and the last of the classes for this quarter (see previous post), I did help friend Howard unpack from his second move in two months, courtesy of a break-up (after a 28 year relationship) and some bad decisions.  I like doing those kinds of things, partially because it brings you closer to people (an explanation of where that chatchka came from often leads to further relevations), and, let's be honest here, because I may have to cash in some of these "good will" chips some where down the road.  (Some of you know my Lucy Pschological Quote #37: cast your bread upon the water, and they shall return as sandwiches!) Anyway, it really was a lovely day, and let no-one say that I never do any physical labour.  It is rare, but not unheard of.

I also had a lovely lunch on Wednesday with friend Laurel.  She has been mentioned in these pages most recently on the death of her husband and resulting memorial service in Vancouver.  She lives close to me here in Palm Springs, at a lovely resort, where she invites me (and others) for the occasional lovely and classy lunch.

(from left to right, the above-mentioned Howard, yours truly, Laurel's daughter Erica, visiting from Vancouver, hostess Laurel, and mutual friend Terry).

It really was very "ladies (and one gentleman) who lunch" kind of an affair, with good food, good service, and good conversation; I loved it!

Today, I just got home from the movies, where neighbor Michael and I saw Philomena (at a local, independently owned theater, I might add, where you can get beer and wine to go with your popcorn!).  It is a splendid movie.  Of course, Judi Dench is generally splendid, but this was smart and funny and sad and thought-provoking, and, I am betting, Oscar-worthy.  No spoiler here; see it for yourself!

So, what has caused the existential angst, you might ask?  Well, I am having my kitchen redone.  (I guess this is the time for the "before" photos....)

and although I am thrilled and excited, it is also a lot of money, and a lot of decision making.  I can make decisions, all right (it is what I get paid to do, after all), but it is still anxious-making, even for me.

And it reminds me that I am by myself and have no one to help me with those decisions.  I read recently, in a book review in the New York Times I think, that self-pity has no shame.  I think it's a great line.  She has enough money re-do her kitchen, in her second home no less, and she's feeling sorry for herself because she is on her own with noone to challenge her decisions.  Get real!

Which brings me to what is probably the real reason for the existential angst.  It is Davie's birthday tomorrow (and the anniversary of his death on February 6).  I always get anxious now, and miss him, and remember what it was like to make decisions together!

I'll celebrate his birthday tomorrow night with the usual dinner out for prime rib and bourbon, his two favourite food groups.  (Although Davie's Hideway, the preferred restaurant for this ritual, has closed, so another had to be carefully chosen).    So, those of you who knew Davie, lift a glass for him tomorrow, and remember......