On Wednesday
morning I recorded my song practice again and spent a lot of time fumbling over
one of my longer songs that I’ve just re-learned. The other songs were in
French and anyone’s that had a B chord in them I would usually miss it once. I
want to try to capture as many songs as I can as soon as possible because I
lose a minute of daylight every day and it won’t be long before the first few
songs I sing are in the dark.
A month or so ago the green cushion
that I keep on my computer chair started falling apart. It started leaving what
looked like little white dead polyester corpses on my floor. I got tired of
picking them up so on Wednesday I finally tossed the cushion in the garbage and
dug out an extra bed pillow that I had in the drawer under my couch. It’s too
big for my chair to look good but it’s comfortable.
In the late afternoon I took a bike
ride. It wasn’t an unpleasant say for a ride but it was certainly cool for the
end of July and cloudy. On Bloor Street before the bike lane begins at Shaw, a
guy in an SUV started cutting me off. I shouted “Hey!” several times. I managed
to avoid ramming into the rear of his vehicle. When I passed him he said,
“Sorry man, I didn’t see you!” How could he not see me while coming up from
behind in broad daylight and then cutting in front of me? I wouldn’t have been
in his blind spot until he’d put me there.
Sometimes when I’m waiting for a
light to change and another cyclist whizzes past me they seem very fast. I
realize though when I catch up to them without even trying that they are not.
Just before the Bloor Viaduct
cyclists rush to get ahead of everybody else so they don’t have to try to pass
in the narrow bike lane. I had to squeeze by several people on the bridge.
I didn’t really start feeling like I
had to pee until I was approaching Pape, but it wasn’t too bad, so I kept
going.
I continued to explore the area
south east of St Clair and O’Connor. I made my way to Chapman Avenue. Behind a
fence was a construction site where a large pile of dirt has grown into a
forest of shrubs. I turned right on Dawes Road and went to the Danforth. By
that time I was much more uncomfortable in my desire to urinate but it wasn’t
unbearable. I stopped at the first Starbucks and asked again for the key code,
which was “147#”, walked past the cute young woman with the leopard print
stilettos, relieved myself and then continued on my way.
For dinner I had my last two eggs
with toast and drank one of the bottles of beer that David had given me. I
watched an episode of Maverick that took place in Dakota on the centennial of
the United States in 1876, before the territory became a state. Bart had his
suitcase stolen containing $2,600. It turned out though that his luggage had
not been thieved after all because there had been a mix up on the stage. What
had been stolen belonged to a local judge who still thought that Bart had it.
Several people thought the same thing and so Bart was getting beaten,
threatened and having his room ransacked until he felt the need to find the
suitcase himself.
Late that night the landlord knocked
on my door to tell me that he’d lost his phone and so he needed to get my
number again.
I worked on my review of Shab-e
She’r but I got sleepy and went to bed 45 minutes early.
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