Morn­ing. Wait­ing to go to the air­port. Much calmer. Lis­ten­ing to “Shh/Peaceful” –  track one of of Miles’s In a Silent Way … this may be my favorite album of all time, cer­tainly one I may’ve lis­tened to the most times. His solo phrases, each of them, could be a song itself. Frick­ing perfect.

So, no rain­coat. Oh well. Towed car. Oh well. It’s snow­ing here, cold, wet and white, but in 12 hours I’ll be sip­ping a yel­low beer in San Jose, and in the fol­low­ing days swim in both the Caribbean and the Pacific … what’ve I got to com­plain about? Right. So I take it slow today … I wake to sleep, and take my wak­ing slow, I learn by going where to go. Fine. I shower slowly, and shave metic­u­lously, a close shave that I seem to think will last longer .… it’s so quiet when you’re doing this, look­ing at your­self in the mir­ror for so long, quite a per­sonal and often reflec­tive time … steam obfus­cat­ing the edges of clar­ity … I started won­der­ing if ter­ror­ists, if prac­tic­ing shavers, did this before a big event … then I started think­ing about 9/11, if Atta shaved or not, and if he did, what was he think­ing about in a hazy hotel bath­room look­ing at him­self in the mir­ror, and then I fig­ured I should stop think­ing like this because it’ll wind up freak­ing me out.

So instead I came up here to write a quick entry, drink a cup’o, and lis­ten to Miles and com­pany. I hope April treats you right, intre­pid reader.

Bet­ter yet, I hope no one else has the gaudy pompous­ness to call you “intre­pid reader” for a long time after this moment.

And be care­ful when you feed the pigeons. Bohu­mil Hra­bal fell out of his win­dow and died upon the cob­ble­stones of Prague when attempt­ing to do the very same thing.