Cholera and Other Consequences of Not Watching TV on the Weekend
Of course the last thing I'm going to do on a gorgeous day is sit at home watching the local news. Yesterday I was in the garden all day, except for a couple hours in which Sully and I went to Vernon Street Open Studios in Somerville to see my friend Keith Maddy's latest, and check in with other extraordinary artists doing an eclectic mix of work, like Wen Xiong Lin, Gary Duehr, Brandy Wolfe, Resa Blatman, Charles Bandes, and Ann Hirsch . It's an absolute embarrassment of riches over there.
AFter that we had burgers and beers at O'Sullivan's Pub. I went back to he garden to catch up with my friend Michael, who needed help with a trellis. And spent the rest of the evening reading Robert Pogue Harrison's Gardens: An Essay on the Human Condition
. I didn't once turn on a TV or a radio.
So I missed this:
...and was immediately annoyed that Jake had left his bottled water out on the counter like this.
Yeah, I know, but that's just where I'm at with Jake these days. You know, a post-it would have helped. It's not that Jake's a bad kid, it's just that something's missing. If I die from cholera now it won't be because Jake did not have the best intentions in preventing it, it'll be because he couldn't take the trouble to jot a post-it note.
Anyway, I can feel the bacteria squirming around inside me. It won't be long now.
I hope it's not too late for you.
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