And we're not talking Sargent Pepper here. This has been the best spring day I’ve experienced in a very long time.
First, after downing a big glass of OJ and savouring a mug of Sumatran coffee, I made bacon and eggs and an English muffin for breakfast. This is something I haven’t done in almost a year. It was a delicious luxury that greatly enjoyed as I listened to Morning Edition on NPR.
Satisfied and happy I set about running the vacuum through the apartment and cleaning the bathroom (an easy chore here) and worked up a sweat. So…. with the temperature in the mid-70s and already sweaty, I decided to don swim trunks and lie out by the pool in an attempt to put some colour and much-needed vitamin D into this tired old body. No, the pool isn’t open yet, but that didn’t matter. It was the sun I wanted.
So did the hyacinths, tulips, phlox and marigolds coming up and about to bloom. The trees are budding and lilies are breaking through the soil. Colour welcomed, colour following a winter of gray.
After showering (no, I didn’t shave. Hah!) I prepped a recipe for the crock-pot and set it cooking.
I settled in to read a few of my favourite blogs to see what was new and what I'd missed since last night. The video blogs had a few funny clips. Not that they were intensionally funny, if you get my drift. When I downloaded email I was delighted to learn that my friends in Gotham will spend the day with me on my day trip in June.
Dennis and I go back to our childhood neighborhood; the same age and share the same birth date. We lived on the same street separated by 10 identical homes. We spent a lot of time together during summer vacation for years. I haven’t seen him in about 45 years. He now has a theatre company and a long time life-partner, whom I will meet in June, as well.
Dione and I go back to 1958 when we both worked on local radio and appeared on television (black and white back then!) in the NOLA version of American Bandstand. We were part of a dance company that performed “specialty” numbers weekly, usually to a hot tune at the time. (Think Hairspray, only 5 years earlier, and yes, we had a “Negro Saturday – once every three months. Nice, huh.) Anyway, we met up again more recently; in 2005 at the March on Washington to end the war in Iraq. We got to spend a few hours together during and following the march. It was fun, but too short a visit. And although we stay in touch via email, there is nothing like hearing a person’s voice and inflections in a real live conversation.
I’ve just listened to a clip by Sen. Barak Obama as he skewers ABC’s Charlie Gibson and George Stephanapoulos regarding that train wreck billed as a “Debate” by naming all the trivial bullshit questions, (you know, flag lapel pin, his pastor, bitter, and blah blah,) as “Manufactured Political Distractions” and putting those MPDs on notice on the Colbert Report. Funny stuff and a priceless cap to my afternoon. This was one of those days that make life worth living. Perhaps they are so few because if they were plentiful, we wouldn't cherish them as much.
I am now going to prepare a festive cocktail and sip it by the pool in the late afternoon sun. What a delightful way to end the day.
And so it goes.