Bowling Alone

A deluge this morning, 6:30, when I usually get up, but I'm not going to get down the driveway for a while, so back to bed and listened to the rain. Fell asleep, dreamed about the farm in Missip, rescuing piglets from a flooded pen. Electricity is out, but the house is cool enough. When it's light enough to read, I tackle Auerbach's chapter on Stendhal, then Balzac. The birth of the realistic in literature, 1830 or so. The "Mimesis" is quite good, but winter reading. Meant to put some books away, but reread one of them instead. The books that stay out, stay out for a reason. "Loneliness as a Way of Life", Thomas Dunn. Wonderful chapter on Melville, good on Thoreau. End up taking the whole day off, finish a John Sandford novel. When the power came back on I made a pot of cheese grits. Went back to Stendhal, back to the Dunn. I fill a day like this quite easily, make a few notes, stare into the middle-distance. I think about some driveway improvements, eliminating the frog puddles, so I can access the house more easily; prioritize the list of things I need to get done this fall, for the next descent into winter. Dunn makes the point that loneliness is the modern way of life. Talks about that character, Travis, in Wim Wenders great movie, "Paris, Texas", with that great soundtrack by Ry Cooder. I actually own that movie, though I can't play it, because I don't have the equipage, but have watched it many times. I love that scene with the shoes. Sam Shepard does Sam Beckett. Bet it's on Hulu, I could watch it at the museum, after hours. Harry Dean Stanton is in the pantheon of actors. So, you got four of the GREATS working on a single project, and it reflects every bit of that. Collaborating on anything is difficult, I'm amazed when anyone pulls it off. Even sacred marriage is a covenant of compromise. What you should have learned in school that was never discussed: that when you're talking to another person you should listen to them; that you should hold the door open for anyone, if you were standing there; and that you should pass the sauce without having to be prodded. I don't make the rules, if the ones that come my way are offensive, I ignore them, why would I possibly do something I didn't want to do? and simply load the dishwasher, oh, right, you're that guy.