Deep in your room, you never leave your room

As I was running on the bike path, a convoy of marathon runners approached me heading the other way. Later, when I got back on the bike path heading in their direction, I noticed a lot of activity at the point where it met Davis Square. As I got closer, I realized I was looking at the finish line. There was a runway sectioned off by stanchion ropes and on either side stood a horde of people comprised of spectators and runners who had completed their run. When I was about fifty feet away, I saw that they were cheering me on. I looked behind me and the nearest person was far behind .

I didn't want to run through middle of that group, but then I did want to run through the middle of that group. I wanted the feeling of exultation at having finished a marathon. Their cheering infused with me energy and I ran faster towards the finish line. I straightened my back and ran towards glory.

As I was about to raise my arms in victory and dive into my sea of fans, I was jolted back to reality, to the first thought I had of not wanting to run through that group of people. I recalled I didn't want to because A) doing so would have been a fraudulent thing to do, which when you have a pure heart like mine, is a sin of the highest order and B) if I did go through with it, I would have been the guy in last place. The only person behind me was a woman walking her Collie. Oh, and C) I didn't want that many people focusing their attention on me. Yes, sometimes a guy can get shy. Even one with a pure heart.

Even when I'm a fraud, I don't settle for last place. I stopped running about ten feet from the finish line and pulled out my Ipod and pretended to fiddle with it. And while doing that, I veered off the path and snaked through the people clustered there. When I came out the other side, I felt a tinge of regret at not having crossed the finish line. Who knows, I probably could have gotten laid out of the deal or at least handed some kind of ribbon, or something. I guess I'll never know.
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Went to Newbury Comics after the run and picked up cd's by Can, Porno For Pyros, David Bowie, and Neu. Aside from Porno for Pyros, it was the closest thing I could muster to a trip to Germany (for the those of you not familiar with the Krautrock scene, Can and Neu are from Germany and Low, the David Bowie album I got was recorded in Berlin and heavily inspired by Neu).

I called my grandmother at the hospital on the way to the store. She didn't sound very well ---her voice was gravelly and she sounded tired. My Uncle Dick was there. He had flown in from North Carolina yesterday and surprised my grandmother when she was in the recovery room after her surgery. She told me how happy seeing him made her. "My baby has been taking care of me all day. He's been doting on me like a mother hen", she said. A few minutes later, after I hung up with her, I felt bad about not visiting . It hadn't been on my day's agenda, but I didn't really have much of an agenda, so I went to the hospital. It was the right thing to do and I'm glad I went.

My parents were there and it was a nice visit. Nana was looking good, much better than the way she sounded on the phone. I was glad Dick was there. He's a very funny guy and watching the interplay between him and my father is always a treat. When they're together, they're a perpetual vaudeville act. It's when my father seems the happiest. I like seeing him that way.

When we were all leaving, they asked me to go out to lunch with them. My dad was buying so I accepted the invitation. It's never a good idea to turn down a free meal. My aunt Maureen met us at the restaurant and we spent two hours discussing how cool, handsome and erudite I am. No, really we did.
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Janelle just posted some of her writing on Myspace and it's of the highest caliber. I've always enjoyed her writing, but this stuff has eclipsed all that has come before. Skilled, insightful, tight, lyrical----these are just some of the ways to describe her writing. Believe me, if I possessed the vocabulary, I'd have constructed a much longer list. She's an inspiration.
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Ok, I've got to get started on other projects. And one of them is watching more Lost episodes. I'm almost done with the second season, bitches.