I grumble about the end of summer as much as any schoolkid (including my own), but one of its bonuses (at least for those of us who toil in the vineyards of civil service) is that, from September until February, there is at least one paid day off per month. Monday will be such a day. Tomorrow night, I will not set the alarm, but that tomorrow will still be a semi-work day for me. My goal is to make some serious headway in making our new home look more like a home–we’ve hung up clothes, and the office is starting to take shape, but we still look like we’re in transit.
Susie turned 14 on Thursday, and she was quite happy with the Seventeen
subscription I bought her, although the first issue has yet to arrive. (I remember receiving a subscription to Mad
for my 11th birthday, and feeling just as good.) I bought her subscription through Amazon.com, and they sent her an email Thursday morning notifying her, so now she’ll haunt the mailbox until the first issue arrives. Susie’s grandfather sent her a sketchbook and a pen, and her mom mailed her clothes. Susie and I had chicken soup at home (the same chicken soup I made two weeks ago–freezers and Crock-Pots are wonderful inventions) and then I took her for dessert at Groovy Spoon
, a frozen yogurt restaurant on N. High St. just south of Whetstone Park.
She had a sleepover last night with a girl from The Graham School, so I stayed up almost until dawn, but was awake again by 9. Susie and I went to Studio 35 to see Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan
, although we declined the chance to dine with the Klingons. (We ate lunch at Burger King beforehand.) Between lunch and the movie, we went to a garage sale on E. Weber Rd. Susie bought a purse and a scarf. There was an entire rack of women’s clothes, but nothing she liked fitted her. I bought a DVD of Kissing Jessica Stein
and a two-disk set of Beethoven’s Favourite Piano Sonatas
(I’m listening to the “Moonlight Sonata” as I type this, which is appropriate, because the moon is very bright tonight, although it’s not officially full until Tuesday).
|Where Susie and I went to see Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan.
The downside of a three-day weekend is that my sleep schedule is now off track. Since I didn’t get to bed until close to sunrise, and was awake again a mere four hours later, I crashed for an hour or two almost as soon as Susie left for dinner and a movie with her godmother. Susie is singing at the 9:15 service at church, so we’ll be out of the gate sooner tomorrow morning than usual. And I’m hardly leading by example! It’s nearing midnight, and I’m sitting here typing this entry with a bottle of Coke Zero at my elbow.
As I was unpacking, I was scared to death that I had lost the manuscript of my memoir about my friendship with Cincinnati novelist Robert Lowry
during the move. (Most of the text was on the hard drive of the stolen laptop.) I sent a panicked letter to my friend Robert Nedelkoff just outside D.C., since he has been my consultant and father confessor for much of the project. (I sent a letter rather than emailing so he could have a hard copy of my new address.) About two hours after I dropped the letter in the mailbox, I was unpacking one of the big Staples boxes (my packing lacks organization–it always has, it always will), and, voilà,
there it was. I heaved a huge sigh of relief. A day or two ago, RobertNed sent me an email thanking me for notifying him of the change of address, and he attached the Word file of the Lowry manuscript, as well as other items.
Now that I have an extant copy of the hard copy, rewriting should head the “to do” list, since–as Robert has not so subtly pointed out–I am in the home stretch of finishing this book. (Lowry died in December 1994, and the last time I added anything to the manuscript, I was describing the period between the spring of 1992 and the summer of 1993.) However, it has been so long since I wrote anything, the voice has changed, I’ve fallen out of love with some of the prose I wrote, etc., so it’s best if I did the whole damn thing from the ground up. Before she moved to Florida, Steph made some invaluable comments and edits in pen and ink on the manuscript, and I plan to incorporate some of these changes in the next incarnation.
An aside here–I changed the music while writing the last paragraph. Currently, I’m listening to Vivaldi’s “Double Trumpet Concerto for Two Trumpets, Strings, and Continuo in C Major, RV 537 Allegro,” from the album Greatest Hits of 1721. I love this piece. What’s funny is that it first came to my attention when I saw All the President’s Men. During the scene when Woodward and Bernstein suspect that Nixon’s people are wiretapping them, they sit at a typewriter and “converse” by typing, and Woodward blares this music on the stereo to drown out the sound of the typing.
As I was rereading the pages of the Lowry manuscript, I seem to mark the decline of my daily conduct with him to my return to gainful and stable employment, particularly my third-shift job at the main post office in Cincinnati. I’ve often said that my conversations with him at the Bay Horse Café started off as resembling William Holden and Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard, since Lowry’s life and work fascinated me since I read about him in a 1989 Clifton magazine article. Toward the end, as Lowry declined mentally, it more resembled Martin Sheen and Marlon Brando in Apocalypse Now.