Good Morning


Pic of the day, part i:  Drapery for a seated figure, by Leonardo da Vinci

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How many people ruin themselves by laying out money on trinkets of frivolous utility? What pleases these lovers of toys is not so much the utility, as the aptness of the machines which are fitted to promote it. All their pockets are stuffed with little conveniences. They contrive new pockets, unknown in the clothes of other people, in order to carry a greater number. They walk about loaded with a multitude of baubles…

Adam Smith, The Theory of Moral Sentiments

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The day began like any other.  The repetitive staccato high pitched blare announcing to anyone who had ears that functioned that it was 6:00 am.  I immediately got up, first rolling to my right then heaving myself upward as gently as possible so as not to disturb my sleeping wife, then hurriedly hit the button that turned off the alarm so that would not wake her.  After accomplishing that, I did something that I do every day, and it is a rather odd thing to do.

Think about the first word I will utter that day before I utter it.  I do it for 2 reasons.  Admittedly bad reasons, but reasons nonetheless.  Reason one is that the word will affect the mood of the entire day, and that it should hence be as positive as possible.  Reason two is that if I can concentrate enough five seconds out of bed on one thing, one word to guide the day, then I will be able to concentrate on anything that passes before me that day.

“Good Morning, Hon” I said as I got up to turn off the alarm.  She turned very slightly away under the thin purple covers, not responding to me so much as the alarm clock going off.   I wanted to greet the day with a hello, and a happy one at that.  Good is a good way to start any day, I say.

I take my first step after hitting the alarm and saying my piece (peace?) and walk to the end of the bed, and roughly grab the end of the bed because my inner ear has decided that I should be sitting and the world spun and heaved to the left and almost fell backwards.  This didn’t faze me overmuch, as this has happened a number of times, and I’ve come out relatively unscathed.  Continuing after the near mishap, I make the left hand turn, and feel at once the breeze from the air conditioner behind me and the fan from my right.  It is 6:01 am July 21st, it is 81 degrees out, and I am cold.

Could be worse…

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Pic of the day, part ii:  Study for Madonna and Child with St. Anne, by Leonardo da Vinci

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But every man is more than just himself; he also represents the unique, the very special and always significant and remarkable point at which the world’s phenomena intersect, only once in this way and never again. That is why every man’s story is important, eternal, sacred; that is why every man, as long as he lives and fulfills the will of nature, is wondrous, and worthy of consideration.

Hermann Hesse, Demian (prologue)

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As I pass the fan and begin to leave the bedroom, I look down and see a cat.  Roddy.  He looks at me and mews to me.  It’s his way of saying good morning. I say hello back to him in a pitch that attempts to match his high pitch, not easy for someone who can sing  Barry White with relative ease.  He mews again and he and I head for the Kitchen to get him some food and me some coffee, him running, me walking.

I pour him his dry food for the day, a fairly large bowl for a cat or even two, which is how many cats there are.  Minky the other cat is a lump on a chair at this point, and won’t get up.  So I leave him be, and feed Roddy.  He mews at me again and purrs as he begins to eat, and I skritch his ears and I then turn to the task of making coffee.  I’ve got everything set up for me to make coffee fast, and it goes fast, as usual.  Water in pot, coffee in strainer, turn on heater, start.  Then I wash a few dishes.  Help to keep the place clean, part of the morning ritual

6:07 am.

Takes 15 minutes to make.  Slow, but not so slow that it’s an issue.  Go to bathroom quickly, then turn on computer.  Roddy comes in and mews yet again, this time rubbing against the ottoman (furniture, not 18th century turk) I’m sitting on.  He wants attention.  So I pay it.  Plug in the iPod to charge it, then log in.  Check the e-mail.  Nothing major.  2 people liked my post from yesterday, one e-mail telling me I have job opportunities waiting for me, and another political fundraising e-mail from someone whom I don’t recognize.  The e-mail I’m waiting for, the job in the Bronx one, isn’t there yet.  Dammit

Trash the new stuff.  I like the people liking me, but I keep forgetting to turn off the damned e-mail notifications, which clog the inbox whenever I write a piece that doesn’t entirely suck, or when I don’t delete my e-mail for a few days in a row (Keep liking them BTW, I don’t mind that much!) and I end up with 50 or 60.

Check the news.  Hosni Mubarak is still critically dead (asshole,) Sandusky is still the devil(asshole,) Mitt Romney is still stupid (asshole,) and futures are down slightly(many assholes.)  Nothing has changed in the 6 and one half hours that I slept.  Still surrounded by assholes.

I can smell the coffee cooking, and I am starving and can’t wait for breakfast.

Which today is coffee and 2 Devil dogs.

No worries.

I’ve had worse days.

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That’s it from here, America.  G’night.

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