On
Thursday morning I finished working out the chords to the first part of “La
complainte du progrès” by Boris Vian. I think the rest basically repeats the
same chords.
I also completed chord construction
for “L’hippopodame” by Serge Gainsbourg.
I worked on developing my bedbug
diary, “My Blood in a Bug” into a poem sequence.
At noon I got ready to go downtown
to meet my friend Brian at the Black Bull and left around 12:30.
I’d initially invited Brian to my
place, since her hasn’t been there in more than fifteen years, since the first
time my place had bedbugs. It’s been over four and a half years now since I’ve
seen a bedbug. His excuse this time for not coming was that in the winter he
doesn’t like to go places that he has to get to by bus or streetcar. To get to
the Black Bull he said he just has to walk from the subway.
I got there before Brian and at
first I picked the booth in the southwest corner. I sat down in the seat facing
the bar so Brian could have the window view. But the cushioning under the vinyl
seat was thin and my ass went down to the springs. I was just moving my stuff
one booth north when Brian arrived. Over the next four hours we each had two pints
of Creemore. He had sweet potato fries and I had regular fries. The Black Bull
is Kind of cheaping out these days and serving food in disposable paper bowls.
Brian is composing a wind quartet on
his computer and when it’s done he hopes to shop the music around to live
groups to play. He’ll also put the electronic version up on Soundcloud.
We talked about work, my projects
and school and me getting banned from Shab-e She’r. He thought that both the
ban and my difficulties with my teaching assistant for Indigenous Studies are
examples of political correctness gone haywire. I’m all for things being
politically correct but not if the meaning of "correct" deviates from
its meaning of “accurate".
Brian paid for the beer and the
food. I think I paid the last time we got together, which was at least a year
and a half ago. It tends to be that I have to initiate our meetings. He says
it’s not that he doesn’t want to get together but he gets caught up in himself
and the social things don’t happen.
We talked about me recently having
listened to both the Jethro Tull and Yes discographies because he’s a big fan
of both bands.
Our only disagreements were about
Star Trek Discovery and Jodie Whitaker as the Doctor in Doctor. He thinks the
writing on Discovery is not very good and that although he thinks Whitaker is a
good actor he thinks she’s very stiff as the Doctor.
Since I was downtown already I
wanted to kill as many errand birds as I could, so after saying goodbye to
Brian I headed down to St Lawrence Market. In the basement I took my usual trip
to Domino Foods.
Upstairs I got a dozen sesame seed
bagels and eight hot pepperoni sticks.
On the way home I stopped on Queen to
buy a couple of things for Astrid. I had one
heavily made up and exuberant salesperson on me as soon as I walked in. Once
I’d found the table with the things I wanted another person came to make suggestions
and then later another as I walked around looking. I bought something called Black Rose and another named Shoot for the Stars.
Closer to home I went to Freshco
where I bought a couple of bags of black seedless grapes, another of red globe
grapes, which have seeds but they were too cheap to pass up. I got two half
pints of raspberries and another half pint of blueberries. I also grabbed a
loaf of cinnamon bread and a sirloin tip roast.
When I got home there was a message
from Nick Cushing that he was in town. I let him know that I was home and five
minutes later he was I knew he was coming over that evening but I’d hoped I’d
have time to degrunge my bathroom before he got there. I excused myself while
he was settling down at the kitchen table and I did a quick clean of the toilet
and the sink.
Nick brought us each a can of a
Polish beer called Okocim, which has more alcohol than most beers. With the two
pints I'd had earlier and this gift from Nick, I hadn't drank so much in a long
time. I didn't feel overwhelmed but it just seemed like a lot.
Nick also brought me a belt sander
with some extra sandpaper and a can of wipe-on poly, which he said I could use
to protect my wood floors.
We talked about his new job delivering
chicken and how he’s traded in his van for a little Toyota.
It was interesting that in
conversation with Nick, as with Brian earlier that day, my situation of getting
banned from Shab-e She’r and my frustrations with communicating about residential
schools with my TA, also came up and both Nick and Brian expressed similar
views on the matter.
After Nick left I started making
dinner and had three small potatoes, two chicken drumsticks and some gravy
while watching Zorro.
This story begins with Don Diego
learning that Jose Varga, the new administrator for Southern California is
coming to Los Angeles and he is using his authority to requisition Diego’s
father’s house. At first Diego is angry but decides to play it cool in order to
find out what’s really going on. Varga arrives and we recognize him as the
Eagle from a previous episode, but Diego doesn’t know this. Varga tells him it
is within his authority to fully take possession of Don Alejandro’s property
but for now he will be generous and allow Diego and his father to live there.
Utilizing the secret passages in the house, Diego grabs a satchel that Varga
has left unattended. In it he finds several yet to be cut eagle feathers. He
realizes that Varga is an agent of the Eagle. Varga and his secretary Greco are
searching the house for secret passages and under a stone in the mantle find a
box containing a list of men that have signed up to form a militia to fight the
oppressive forces that threaten Los Angeles. Zorro suddenly arrives and warns them
that if they read a single name he will kill them. He ties them up and then the
soldiers discover that Zorro is there. He fights them until he escapes through
a secret passage. The soldiers hear Don Diego calling for help and they see
Zorro is riding away. Really it’s Bernardo dressed as Zorro. Later Diego finds
an unposted latter from the Eagle and realizes that if it hasn’t left his house
then Varga must be the Eagle.
Perhaps
because of a combination of not having had a siesta earlier that day, the riding
my bike all around downtown and having drank three beers, I felt very tired and
went to bed an hour and a half early.
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