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contours provocations
journal - 2002-0901 - sun 2100 Sunday A bank holiday. Labor Day. The supposed end of summer. But not here. It will continue to be hot until November - no exaggeration. As usual, a quiet weekend. The most exotic moment was digging out my VHS tape of "The President's Analyst" this afternoon. An old tape that I recorded at least ten years ago. So the quality is ok but not great. A funny, funny dark satire. When it came out, it's take on institutions was viewed as wacky and way over the top. But in all that has happened since then, it now almost seems an understatement. Yesterday, I spend most of the day with chores. Laundry. Post Office. A trip to WalMart. Balancing the check book. Writing checks. Last weekend, I grugingly stopped at WalMart. It's not my favorite store because it's always so crowded. And so many of the shoppers appear brain dead. And there's never any help. And what help there is appears more brain dead than the shoppers. And I always have trouble finding stuff. BUT the good news is I discovered they have the cat food the felines like at a reduced price. With the amount I have to buy, any savings can be significant. And yesterday, I found out they have a couple of other items that are much cheaper. Of course, when I finally got to the check out, and handed the clerk my credit card, the machine literally went "CLUNK!" And printed out a tiny strip of paper that said "REJECTED!" I thought for a moment that some type of hugh neon sign would drop from the ceiling and flash "REJECTED! REJECTED! REJECTED!" Well, I cleverly got out of the dilemma by giving the clerk another card. I did hold my breath though. I wheeled the cart into the parking lot and couldn't remember where I'd parked. My spacial abilities have been acting weird for about a year. Several times I've come out of Barnes and Noble and am convinced my car has been stolen. As I get out, I've got to align the card with lamp posts or signs. Someone I used to work with has been murdered. I worked with him for several years, then he left to take another job. At the beginning of August, he called work but never arrived. By the next day, it was realized he was missing. About a week later, his car was found in a small town about forty miles to the south. The car contained masks, wigs and "incendiary devices" of some sort. The family has gotten the FBI involved, but I've not heard anything new in about a week. What always struck me about him was his honesty. I think he viewed the world without any concept of deceit or guile. The world simply was. He would help anyone if he could. And alas, I fear that someone took advantage of his nature. He may never have seen the danger someone presented. PAX!
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