April 17. Workday at the AirBnb. Brunch at the bistro. BBQ in the evening. Drove to the concert hall to find the side entrance that J. will take tomorrow morning.

April 16. We went to the first best jazz bar we could get a reservation for. Seven musicians, all beyond retirement age, were playing music from the 20s and 30s. Plus people dancing – at dance school level, a couple maybe above.

April 15, Kansas City. At the airport we are greeted by gender-neutral restrooms. Oh, I see, it’s like Austin here. All the progressive folks from the bordering four deep red states must be gathered here.

April 14. Did the big round in Central Park on the scooters. Wonderful spring evening, all the people. Didn’t think we’d ever get to experience this together since we’d never be able to walk there. So thankful for the scooters.

April 13. My son owns a fundamentalist book that someone gave him. He wants to throw it away, but – is it okay to throw away books? He wants to give it to a bookstore – but is it okay to circulate books with questionable content? The questions cannot be distinguished any better.

April 12. Rode the scooter from the West Side to the East Side and back for the first time. Great fun, just need to learn which traffic rules I need and need not to obey. Later rode up and down the waterfront a few times to get a feel for handling, acceleration and speed. It’s gotten a lot warmer today, over eighty degrees, but on the Hudson there are freezing cold air masses that blow in over the water every few seconds and make it seem like you’re a few days in the past again.

April 11. My mother, being unobserved for a few minutes, sends me an email. She writes that my father had a brain scan in 2007 in which many mini-bleedings were found. They had no effect and it was not thought to be hereditary at the time. The genes involved were not discovered until 2010. I think this is good news because if my father could live to eighty with it, there is no reason why I shouldn’t live to ninety with it.

April 10. My Piano de Voyage has arrived, a keyboard to plug together. You can take as many octaves with you as you need and can fit in your bag. I wonder if it ever goes away, this feeling that I can do unusually little on the instrument for someone who spends so much time with it. Also, the sheer amount of music I know is unusually small. That was one of the most devastating effects of my fundamentalist phase: that I was cut off from good music during those years in which you can experience it more intensely than at any later time.

April 9. Swipe-Right-Day, two years ago today. Bought two electric scooters, took them up and down the Hudson.

April 8. None of her painkillers are helping, so I went to Union Square to buy weed for J. There are terminals in the store where you put in your order. I have to get help, am an older gentleman buying for his girlfriend. Later tried a few edibles. The dose was way too high, rather scary, I can’t follow any sentence in our conversation anymore.