Apex point - © Robert Sommers 2024

Friday, July 10, 2009

Bodysnatched

Today was one of those curious days when I didn't feel very comfortable in my own skin. Ever have one of those days?  I felt like there was some heavy burden on my shoulders - like I had something very important to accomplish or risk some grave impending doom.

I fought the feeling.  I took out my trusty yellow pad and made a to do list, something I have done my entire adult life. I  derive a small satisfaction at completing tasks that makes me feel productive and convinces me I am working towards my goals.

I managed to check the majority of my alloted tasks off my sheet but never got the emotional bounce I required.  It was hot and sticky today and the shop was pretty much deserted. Several people came in in the morning looking for a free appraisal or to sell mother's old china.  I went through my mail and cleared my answering machine.  I overheard a man with an almost familiar face cooing into a phone, obviously talking to a woman.  Then I heard him mention his wife and I had a flash that the guy was talking to his mistress.

He entered my shop and started asking me about the value of some things in his household in a nervous way.  I asked him what was going on and he said that his wife, who was an apparent customer of my wife, was on life support and that today was the day he would have to make the decision to pull the plug.  She had been struck down with a mysterious illness very recently and his life was suddenly upside down.

I admitted to overhearing his conversation and my supposition that he had been talking to another woman and he laughed and said that it was actually their daughter. We talked frankly about his situation.  His wife had, to his amazement, been buying huge amounts of jewelry from one of the shopping networks in the last several months.  He was trying to stop the purchases.  I offered to help him in any way I could.


It was a long trip yesterday driving back from Monterey where I had spent the night with my old pal Bill Phillips, playing guitar and laughing until the wee hours of the morning.  I was working on four hours sleep.  My knee ached, the good one, the right one which had only undergone one operation, from constantly pushing the gas and brake pedal.

Driving into the narrow dirt road in my canyon, I noticed that some scumbag had dropped a truckload of old carpet, refrigerators and a bathtub on the side of the road for someone else to deal with.  Humans are such a considerate bunch.  I drove into my driveway and saw that something seemed odd with my rose bushes.  I walked over to the first one and pulled it right out of the ground, the gophers having eaten away all the roots.  I need to get some chicken wire and start burying them in their container like my friend Dixon does.

My writing has seemed a little trite lately.  I'm having a difficult time getting my thoughts together.  I have been mulling over a bit of serious writing lately but can't find the energy to pull it off. In the seventies, or was it the eighties, I forget, they might have told me that my biorhythms were off.

Hopefully a good nights sleep and getting back to the gym will bring me back to equilibrium.  I actually feel very well physically.  People ask me about my health and I can honestly say that three months away from my operation, it is totally behind me and I am sick of talking about it. I cycled through it and it is over. That was then.

Tonight was Hot Summer Nights with lots of hot rods in the street.  Little bit older crowd that like to sit behind their rides on beach chairs and swap stories of small blocks and manifolds.  I tried to wander out there but it was too hot and my dislike for homo sapiens too strong to make things work at the moment.  Band sounded crappy again and I wasn't into drinking beer.  Had a few interesting people wander into my store and a couple obviously skirt it, sending me into a temporary neurosis wondering how I had managed to offend them.

Brought back a lot of great material for Santa Fe next month.  Have to clean up the shop for the party next saturday.  Still haven't nailed the musicians down.  Need to get the Maloof dining set out of the shop. But first got to do something about my pesky dopamine levels. I'm scratching for bedrock and everything feels like it's crumbling away.

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