December 25. Gray, cold, gas station with audio commercials in Newburgh. At first I wonder if it’s a car radio turned up at the other pump, but the sound is too loud and hollow for that - it sounds like on a ship. After the first commercial, the Sleigh Ride plays with the familiar voice in which you can hear the beaming smile of the fifties, a smile that J says was only possible with Valium.
December 24. Dinner with Frank Sinatra. A gossamer layer of snow in the morning. We want to shop for a few things at Target, but the parking lot is full and jammed with cars either trying to get in or out. We leave the parking lot with illegal maneuvers and drive only to the wine store.
December 23. J finds my entry from yesterday disrespectful to people with chronic illnesses. I am still trying to figure out why that might be.
December 22. We ate at indoor restaurants twice last week and went to a bar once. According to microcovid, that is all dark red, well above the risk budget. And I did hesitate first. But I don’t care anymore. I’m tired of being considerate of people who don’t get vaccinated. I myself have never had anything to fear from covid, and now it’s ten times less than that. Long covid? Oh, bring it on. This is long covid.
December 21. A hunger for life that can only be satisfied by the most disciplined scheduling.
December 20. Playing piano as a diary. Starting to write down notes because I’m getting to the point where I can’t develop my ideas any further by just remembering them. And writing down the notes with letters is not enough. Therefore, notation software. Which also creates a big boost in note reading.
December 19. Nutcracker on Long Island. Again amazement at how the figures are wound up with a large key, then perform mechanical movements that immediately become superhuman. The human body is not built for such movements, but we would like to rebuild it for them. Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from ballet.
December 18. Been to the dentist. Another one of my forty-year-old amalgam fillings was replaced with the modern, white, photo-hardening substance. In the process, parts of the tooth broke away, so he had to fill more than planned. He only told me about this later, when it was all over. But the prognosis is supposed to be excellent.
December 17. I find Evolutionary Psychology boring. None of it is surprising, everything just average.
December 16. Unclear how I managed to get so out of training. A consistent downward slope since October. If I don’t run at least three times a week, not double digit miles a week, I can’t maintain my shape. Not even maintain it. I’m just melting away. – Started running in the last light of day, which means five o'clock, which means rush hour. The Hudson River Parkway is white and red.