Groovy

 Always have a camera.  O.K.  Yea.  But it's not always the right one.  I was on an eight lane "highway" yesterday when I saw this.  

I was sitting behind a line of cars at a stoplight for awhile thinking, "I wish I could pull over and get a photo of this."  But I couldn't.  And I didn't have my Leica.  What I needed was something with a telephoto lens.  There is another rule in photography--#4, I think: "Always keep your car windows clean."  Of course, mine were not.  I remembered at the last minute that I had my Canon camera with the plastic Holga lens attached in the console.  I quickly grabbed it and took a picture through the window.  

"That's not going to be for shit," I thought.  I wanted to park and walk over, but. . . the light changed and the cars began to roll.  I took a shot through the passenger side window as I rolled by, blind, just pointing the camera as best I could as I drove.  

"No way," I thought.  At the next stoplight, I looked at the back of the camera.  The image was almost too dark to see, but it looked like I got something.  When I popped the SD card into the computer and cooked it up. . . . 

I think I did a pretty good shot from the hip in a moving car job, but it is not the right angle.  I should have parked and got out.  Selavy.  

You can make out the Smoke Shop store across the lot behind the bus stop.  What happened to the guy?  Was it just too hot?  Heat stroke?  Dehydration?  Or. . . did he have a little too much smoke?  

I think it was the fallout from the manned rocket launch earlier in the day.  They won't tell you what comes out of those things, but you know it isn't good.  People always get sick after a launch.  That's why I put aluminum foil in my hat.  I can't find tin anymore.  What happened to all the tin?  Another conspiracy?  

Despite the launch, I had a good day.  I finished painting the second coat on the deck.  Now I have to start on the apartment stairs.  I wish I'd done this earlier in the year, though.  Temperatures are constantly in the upper 90s with predictions of 100 degrees on Sunday.  It is crazy.  We are still in late Spring.  Everything will need to be done very early in the morning.  It's o.k.  I don't like working for more than a few hours anyway.  I must admit, though, that I have a productive feeling lately, and a little satisfaction.  It has cheered me up a bit, lifted my mood.  

I went to the gym after I finished the deck.  I lifted lightly.  I must do so consciously.  I have to think about it or I go back to my old ways and keep damaging my joints.  So I did that and was happier.  Nobody gives a damn how much weight I am using.  That is my mantra.  

After my workout, I went to Whole Foods to buy hippie food.  That made me happy, too.  And I went wild.  Not "hog" wild.  I'm going full Mediterranean.  It is too hot to eat beef and pork, and even chicken has little appeal.  I've made beautiful rice, beans, and lentils with tofu I marinate in teriyaki sauce and toss in a skillet.  I bought vegetables galore and plenty of fruit including those big Eastern Washington State cherries that are so marvelous. 

I bought psyllium capsules and reiki mushroom powder and very expensive probiotic drinks.  100 billion microorganisms.  Really?  How do they count them?  I had to take it on faith.  

When I got home, I had a Mediterranean soup and coconut water.  As I ate, the packages began to arrive.  I got my replacement Buck Mason shirt.  They were replacing one that was never delivered--until yesterday when the across the street neighbor brought it.  The piece of shit delivery company they had used took it to the wrong house, so I have two.  They are of the lightest cotton weave in existence, perfect for this weather.  The olive oil soap from Greece arrived.  Then filters for my two air purifiers.  And then, finally, the coup de grace, the HP Sprocket Portable 2x3" Instant Color Photo Printer.  Now I am in business.  

I was feeling pretty groovy when I went to see my mother.  We sat out and chatted, and she was in better spirits.  I stayed longer than usual, but it didn't matter so much as it doesn't get dark until nearly nine now.  

"I like your hair," she said.  Yea, my little beautician did a good job fixing me up.  Good hair, an expensive, lightweight t-shirt, and my cool, cheap linen Chinese shorts.  I was thinking to go to the absinthe bar when I left, but it was six by then and I decided to go home and make a drink.  

I made my usual Campari, lime, and soda, but with gin.  My oh my.  It tasted much better that way.  I sat in the late afternoon/early evening light on my newly painted deck waiting for the cat who never showed up.  I sent some texts.  I wrote, "Just put him in my Campari and soda.  Tastes better, I think 🤪."

The girl who kinda asked me out wrote back. 

"?"

I looked.  Oh, what?  

"Jesus.  Just put GIN in my. . ."

She, like so many friends, is a Campari drinker herself.  

I started dinner.  Turned on the television.  Avoided anything Trump.  Watched camera porn for a bit, then started "A Man in Full" on Netflix.  Not so good.  I won't recommend it.  

An early bed.  

I got a text from Red today.  She had a birthday.  Knowingly, she wrote that she was now officially too old for me.  Picture attached.  Old Red.  What can I say?  Everybody ages out eventually.  

But. . . I'm going to continue my hippie ways today.  I'll keep being groovy.  

The last thing I heard last night was a song from 1960 by Johnny Kidd and the Pirates.  They used it in "A Man in Full."  It is a good rock and roll song, and I have it on a CD (yup) I burned of great old tunes like "Funnel of Love" by Wanda Jackson.  Everyone has covered "Shakin' All Over" because it is just so darn good, but nobody can cover a song like Van Morrison.  Unlike other pop musicians, he has just gotten better and better over the years.  Just about everything he does is good.  

But the original from 1960 just kicks ass.