I almost made mistakes last night. Almost. After dinner with mother, I was headed home to no snacks. I panicked, stopped at the store, and bought some double chocolate ice cream. That settled me down a bit.
There was a light rain.
When I got home, it was fairly late. I poured a whiskey and turned on a sailing video on YouTube about a single handed sailor who really sails his boat. I have been falling to sleep to his videos nightly. But I remembered the ice cream.
That may have been a mistake. I should amend my first sentence.
Then another scotch. I called out to Alexa, "Harvest Moon." Hence the Neil Young. And my heart was fairly breaking.
I went out to see if the clouds had parted, and surely, there above the house was the Tropical Harvest Moon, that old last moon of summer. I grabbed a camera.
Back inside, I pulled out the uke that Q had sent me and crooned.
When I put it down, I listened to this.
Wow. I always love the old stuff.
And that is where we get to the precipice. First, I sent some music to friends, but it wasn't enough, and the whiskey soon had me making a late night post to the blog. O.K. Nothing bad there. But as I listened to the Boswell Sisters again and then watched the Neil Young video another time, I came this close----to sending those songs to old girlfriends. Heart in throat.
I hesitated, then got sleepy. Crisis avoided. I went to bed.
I lay me down and slept. But my sleep was uneasy. I dreamed almost consciously, a disturbing dream of an old girlfriend, maybe, who had brought a girl who loved me that I had never loved back to the place I was staying in NYC. She was mad now, insane, lips white and dry, face withered. . . . Etc. I had to leave. I went out into the street. Nothing better happened after that. I had not forgotten the moon.
This morning what had occurred last night was a bit of a fog. The real and the dreamed commingled for a while. I don't know. I remember watching a biography of Alister Crowley at one point last night. All that Golden Dawn stuff, the opium. . . . But as the fog cleared, I realized that I had in some heroic way managed to dodge the bullet. In the past, I'm sure I would have sent those videos to old girlfriends. I'd had my finger on the trigger, but it was o.k. My gun and I stood down. There would be no consequences to face this morning.
It looks like the morning will be clear. Perhaps I will take a few photos with the big cameras. This afternoon I am taking them in to the camera doctor to have them checked. I just got two boxes of glass plates yesterday and I don't want to keep f'ing them up. It is just too expensive.
But you know. . . what is wrong with digital? My big old Canon sure gave me a good picture last night.