Eight o’clock.

The day is getting off to a good start. It is true that you are what you eat, and I’ve done a lot of potato salad lately after a steady diet of burritos and cottage cheese. At the store I just bought a Caesar salad, more potato salad, and two Snapples. I found out at the checkout counter that I have another two hundred dollars in food stamps. Michelle joked that I could buy a lot more salads and laughed. She also said the store was very busy this morning because people were getting their tax refunds. The weather is overcast right now, but I don’t know the forecast for later today… My brain is playing music by Erik Satie. In the old days when I worked in an office I would get tipsy on Friday evenings and listen to piano music by Debussy or Satie, wishing I could be free of my job. Early this morning I thought of a play by Eugene O’Neill called Dynamo, about some dehumanizing line of work. I don’t think I ever read it. My volumes of his plays are out in the garage.

Nine twenty five. Mike has canceled practice for the second weekend in a row. I can still play the bass on my own, or even give my guitar a try. I love beautiful things. I like pleasure and fun, and feeling good. I don’t believe rock and roll is really about Satanism, if it is done with intelligence and taste. But the local music scene doesn’t offer much in that regard. It tends to be mired down in traditional blues and other thoughtless stuff that doesn’t interest me… The sun is free to shine in spurts. For a long time I was depressed every day, and now events seem to be more auspicious. I heard music and voices of people across the fence from my backyard late last night. They didn’t stop until one thirty in the morning. The good times are starting to roll. 

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