Vaya Con Dios, Enero

Estoy enfermo.

I am sick.  Something in my throat, making me cough, which hurts, and somehow making me light-headed and achy.  Stumbling from room to room in the house by myself (the girls are wife-driven to basketball games, playdates, errands, etc.) as if pounded flat on the head with one of them circus-bell mallets.  Trying to read, trying to lay and watch teevee, but nothing is satisfying.  Hungry, but when I eat I feel icky.  Ick.

I’m kinda glad January is over.  Definitely my least-favorite month: it’s cold, it’s long, there’s snow, there’s cabin fever if yer stuck inside, wind-chill factors if you have to go out to travel.  Work always panics this time of year so there’s the justify-your-job aspect of capitalism I’ve grown to hate.  It’s a blah month.

But it’s not all bad here at Chez Hopper.  The wife is bringing in the dough and receiving major career satisfaction props with her new position at her new company.  Patch is rocking the b-ball court.  Little One, it seems, is too, now that we’ve got her in the proper league with the proper coaching.  Me, I put the brakes on my reading and as a result, my literary life is much more fulfilling, so far.

A couple of book reviews and two weird philosophic observations I read recently (one on Spinoza, one on Heidegger) that I am at a loss to put into words but feel I must.  The philosophic observations, that is.  The book review’ll be here in a few days.  Other than that, not much on deck as I’m kind of in a limbo-of-sorts as to what I want to do next.  This is a much more pressing limbo as the generic, life-wide-and-life-long limbo I’ve been in.  When these sorts of things happen (1992, 1997, 2005), I find that things happen to me once I take that first step.  Ever happen to you?  Well, just gotta figure out what that first step is.  Specifically, that is.

So – go with God, January of 2015.  You were good in that you were fast, and because you were fast, the better parts of the year are closer round the corner.

Personal Memoirs of the Personal Memoirs of US Grant

A memory popped into my mind driving to work today.  A little over three years ago I read a Civil War history book on a whim.  A dozen or so more books followed over two years, then I moved on to the history of World War II, followed by World War I.  I like immersing myself in something I know little or nothing about, and the histories of America’s wars fall into this category.

Anyway, I remember borrowing the audiobook of The Personal Memoirs of Ulysses S. Grant from the library.  I’d listen to it commuting to work, but the memory that stuck out was what I’d do on Friday nights.  I’d get off of work, grab one of those juice smoothie things from the grocery store, and listen to the CD book in my car, in cold, wet weather like this, vicariously reliving General Grant’s experiences.  I did this frequently during the six or so weeks it took to get through the book, and it was quite a relaxing, refreshing experience.  Should’ve had a shot of whiskey and smoke a cigar during these listening sessions in honor of the man whose life I was studying, but, hey, I got a family and I’m trying to stay healthy.

I have a funny memory of the audiobook, too.  During those six weeks, my trusty Impala broke down with one of its many coolant leaks, and the extended warranty company paid for a rental car.  When the job was done, the rental company picked up the car from me a few days later – and immediately afterward I realized I left one of the Grant CDs in the car.  So the next day I drove on over to the rental place and had the twenty-something Hispanic girl behind the counter rummage through their lost and found.  She wanted to know what CD she should look for.  I told her, “The Personal Memoirs of Ulysses S. Grant.”  She raised an eyebrow at me, and I said, no kidding:

“It’s what all the kids are listening to nowadays.”

Still Life With Skull

Stared at this painting for three hours today.

In four forty-five minute increments.

Dunno, just kept coming back to it.

At least, it seemed more important than all the credits and debits I was juggling on my schedules at work.

Hmmm.

Perhaps something is trying to tell me something.

Perhaps.