Well, I'm standing with my head bowed down, that aint right, that aint wrong

I had a talk with Rich tonight about his outburst. It went well. I was able to make the points I wanted to make as reasonably as I could have hoped for and without him becoming defensive. Turns out he was pissed the other night, but not so much at me. He felt the heat was cycling too much to begin with, which he didn't like because it indicated a drafty house, and when I came along and turned the heat up, it only compounded his aggravation. That's his story, at least, which, for the sake of maintaining peace in the realm, I'm inclined to accept.

Janelle will be spending her first night here tonight. She is over worked and aching. She should sleep well, provided the screaming leads from my guitar don't wake her up. No amp should be played below ten. Not in this man's army.

Maureen told me she'd rather be home reading. We were standing at the copier and my interest was immediately aroused. I quickly made mental guesses at which book she was reading. Maureen is sweet and grandmotherly; I pegged her for either Austen or someone hand-picked by Oprah. The latter guess was correct, but in the best way possible. She was reading Cormac McCarthy's The Road, a book I loved, even though it reached Grisham status and ran the risk of being played out before it's time. We discussed his writing style -- she kind of liked the lack of quotations -- and I told her I'm currently reading Blood Meridian, a more challenging work than The Road, but equally rewarding.

She was loving The Road and asked if she should take a swipe at Blood Meridian. I thought of all the violence in the book, the horrible murders, all the scalping. "The violence is brutal and frequent, but it's a great read", I said.

"Oh, I don't mind that. I like that kind of stuff."

Wow. Hmm, let's see if she's the real deal. "Ever read McMurtry?", I asked.

She lit up. "Oh, I love Lonesome Dove! I read it once a year. I loved all the books in the series."

"Me too!", I burst out in glee. "I'm reading Comanche Moon and once I'm through I'll be done with the series. I'll be wearing mourning-black for a month."

I wanted to split work and take Maureen out for some coffee and talk books. I never would have thought this sweet woman, "Nana Moe", as her grand kids call her, would have the same taste in literature. If she tells me she's a fan of Herzog, loves Poland Springs mandarin sparkling water, and thinks Luke Warm is a dummy for slagging Adaptation, I will marry her and make love to her every day and every night, even though I am not even close to being attracted to her. And if she hates Crocs, those ridiculous shoes, then I'll get a tattoo of her face on my face. And at the bottom of my neck, I'll have "We are twin souls" with an arrow pointing up to my face(s) also tattooed. Top that, big shot!

Speaking of Crocs, Maureen told me that some schools were banning them for some reason. I told her that was the best news I'd heard in the last three months.

Ok, off to finish watching the amazing documentary Paradise Lost. It's almost as long as Seven Samurai, and almost as riveting.