As an undergrad I had a religion professor who used to bring his xylophone to class on Fridays and …Sing. Hymns. I’m telling you, there is no end to the fiction fodder that just comes from my life…
Anyway,I was just thinking about this sweet old man this morning, because he used to live on a fabulous forest road in the Napa Valley …yep, it used to be a forest road. But they’ve they’re ripped out the trees to pave the hills with wineries, and they’re ripping out even more… good old Gavin is the villain this time, opening yet another arm of the Plump-jack empire so he can be the all-round cool guy with a city AND a winery AND a shot at running for president. Siiigh. I should give it up and let go. They let Bush ride his bike up there. They let wineries proliferate like mold on septic ponds. The ground is arid and dry, the deer are gone, the wild onions and Diogenes lanterns we used to find first thing in Spring only grow in shade, under trees. My beloved woods are gone. So much for hanging onto the memories; the place is entirely unrecognizable.
Okay, so I don’t love the memories of my undergrad days, but I loved taking my introverted self into the woods to get away from everyone. And now even the woods belong to the cool kids. Ugh.
People outside are jogging, and it’s breathlessly hot. And though I can’t imagine how people even want to move, the AIDS Walk just finished, and it’s almost time for the Cancer Walk in September. You know, people send me to various websites to click on buttons to make donations to various groups. Does anyone really know how all of this works? I mean, is someone out there really paying for the six seconds it takes me to go to their site and push a button? Why do they actually need me? And don’t get me started on the bracelets …
Okay, okay. Taking my snarky self and going home.