We went to the local Persian restaurant for dinner. They know us there, and we chatted at length with the high school senior who waited on us. I said the things that old men say, like "when I was your age, the Sex Pistols' first album was not that old" and "I remember those computer punchcards, in Fortran, each card carefully punched to define a single step". I went on to tell him how I can still hear the 11 p.m. sound of computer cards being absorbed into the processer as if endless poker decks were being robotically shuffled. He was polite and talkative, and never said "Old man, look at my life, I'm a lot like you were", but instead told us how he is to study 3-D computer animation at UT Dallas. We talked about how this would be a good first career, in the 5 to 7 years until they outsourced his job to another country.
We rented "American Splendor", which I've wanted to see for some time. The film exceeded my wildest expectations. No matter what they tell you, those who can't often do, and those who teach sometimes can't. I found myself deeply inspired.
Tomorrow I must work. I hope that I can arise early enough to take a walk at the Spring Creek Preserve. I've finished my latest read, a Phillip Pullman about a ruby in smoke.I need a new book to read. I need to be a better person.
In the evenings, I see Jupiter, Saturn, Mars and Venus (and if I were careful, I could see Mercury). I must go to Big Lots, buy a cheap telescope (having donated my good ones to Glendale Community College four years ago), and look at the phases of Venus, the moons of Jupiter and those infinitestimal rings of Saturn. I knew a kid in junior high with an alabaster voice who played acoustic guitar and sang the Guess Who song about "you don't believe that this whole universe could be inside your little sister's purse", but I do believe that (you don't know my sister) and
besides, last time I saw him, he sang Manilow.