Every man who possibly can should force himself to a holiday of a full month in a year, whether he feels like taking it or not.
William James (1842–1910), psychologist
The time is flying by. I still have another week, but it seems as though it will be here just as I settle into a routine. Finished two books (I’m a slow reader) “Out Stealing Horses” by Per Petterson and “Bangkok Haunt” by John Burdett, both were enjoyable.
Saw Bob Dylan in concert. Visited brother, sister-in-law and nephew in Tucson, enjoyed the summer storms. However, I have been out misanthroped by my nephew. He is beyond misanthropic. A misanthrope at least has some passion, even if it is a dislike of people. My nephew is so cool that his personality is frozen, but over time he thaws out to the lovable tot I once knew. Before I left, I gave him a number of burned CDs; I’ll have to ask his father if he liked them.
We picked up Nephew on the way to the concert, he came down the stairs from his new apartment and I sat in the back sit waving to him I finally get a slight head nod. I gave him grief about that for two days. At the concert, he and I were saving a table, when a mother and daughter were sharing their excitement about the upcoming concert. They turned to nephew and asked what his favorite Dylan songs were. “I don’t know,” he said, conversation over.
I asked him after they left if he had any Dylan CDs. “Oh yeah,” he told me, “I’ve down loaded all of them.”
“Do you have a favorite?”
“I like ‘It’s alright, Ma’ (I’m Only Bleeding.)’”
“Why didn’t you tell the mom and daughter that?”
“I don’t like chitchat.”
During the concert, I was bopping around in my sit to the music (daughter and I would have been up dancing), nephew sat there not even tapping his foot. The next day, a very nice couple came over for an evening barbeque and the man said about my nephew, he has cold water running through his veins.
“It’s more like embalming fluid,” I said.
He is a good kid. He recently turned 21, has his business degree, and is working in accounting.
A few days later, I golfed at a private club in Camarillo with On The Mark. What a luxury to play a fabulous course with no one behind us, no keeping score except to track birds, bogeys, and double bogeys. On The Mark, sunk at least a 40-foot putt for a bird, a very nice shot.
Vacation is wonderful!!