Reading Flaubert

Robert Stone died and he had spent some time on the bus with the Merry Pranksters, a litany of Beat and Post-Beat characters. Neil and Ken, everyone tripping out, everyone dancing on the edge. I had discovered, even then, that I wanted to keep a low profile. If you winter in summer resorts and have a decent job in season, you can get through the year. No reason to call attention to yourself. Better to just lay low and keep quiet. I read for 40-56 hours a week, I walk in the woods, where I'm very unlikely to meet another person, I go to town when I can, and talk to other people. It feels like a reasonably integrated life. Jana feels I should move down to the lowlands and get a girlfriend. Wouldn't work, I'd still be the same asshole. TR said that when I called him at the museum on Saturdays, I was usually the only call; which is only fair, that I should compete against nothing. Got sidetracked into chemistry today. I had been curious about the finish they put on the new generations of flooring materials. Some of these are beautiful, the cork and bamboo especially, and I'd installed some, for other people. The finish was amazing, the hardest surface I'd ever seen, so I'd sent off for some information. I'd heard it was aluminum oxide, it's actually aluminum oxynitride, it's crystal clear and used in making bullet-proof 'glass'. Which led to an endless series of questions about glass generally, and then questions about clarity, and refraction, then more questions about atmospheric phenomena. Thank god I had left-overs for several meals. I love Flaubert, and I often read him when I'm eating dinner. Where Faulkner got his attention for detail.