It rained at lunch today. When I headed for my car, the water jabbed sharply at my jeans and shirt and body with explosive force. By the time I opened the door, my clothes were pockmarked with watery stains. As yesterday, I'd decided to go combat, so my ass felt as if I sat in a tub of ice water. My hair was matted and drops fell down my neck, under my shirt and across my chest.

Once I started the motor, I sat for several minutes as I adjusted the heat, fidgeted with the windows, started the back window defroster and looked for a monsoon setting on the windshield wipers. I backed out and immediately stopped because the windows were so fogged. With another minute, I was able to creep away.

Moving up the frontage road, I halted for a traffic light at a cross street that continued under an Interstate bridge to my left. Rain was gushing out of a drain on the pavement above me, pouring onto a cement buttress, then splashing down the sides creating a miniature waterfall. In a few seconds, the light changed, and I had to move on.

Last night, we'd talked briefly on the phone to set up din din. He is planning a trip to Manhattan in the fall and was trying to decide which shows to see. Somehow the play "Equus" came up. "Equus" is the dark, disturbing story of a boy who blinds horses and is referred to a therapist who becomes intrigued by this strange, curious individual. The boy's personality is so beguiling that the therapist realizes that to "cure" him, he will have to destroy something that is unique and fascinating. What an incredible moral dilemma.

PAX!