This morning I was sitting on my bike in our driveway, about to take a spin around the block in the light rain, when I was nearly backed over by a maroon Cadillac. An elderly couple sat inside. The man rolled down the window, leaned out of it and sputtered desperately at me, "They said Caldwell runs parallel to this street, but that just ain't true! It ain't true! Where IS this Caldwell Street?" I had no idea where Caldwell was, having only lived here two years and even then only for a few months at a time. I asked them where they were trying to go and they said the Episcopal church. I was relieved because I knew where that was; I told them to turn left out of Thompson and then take the second right. With wide and grateful smiles they waved and drove off. As soon as they did, I realized I had given them bad directions. The Episcopal church is left out of Thompson and the first left. I hope they found it. I've been feeling terrible about this all day long.
Started packing for Tokyo today. My suitcase is half-full and I haven't even put any clothes in yet. Quite problematic.
Now that I have a pro Flickr account, I have an unlimited number of photos to upload, so I am taking advantage of that by uploading a set I am calling "the ones that got away." This set includes photos from throughout the year that didn't make the initial 366 list. I don't just take one photo a day; usually I take at least five or more, often dozens. Often it becomes very hard to choose the one I like the best, so I decided to pick all of my favorites that didn't get chosen and upload them. I'll post a new month every day or so before I leave.
Really enjoying the John O'Hara novel (Appointment in Samarra) that Dave lent me. O'Hara is like an edgier, more direct version of Fitzgerald. One of the things he does so pitch-perfectly-well is paint a verbal fight. The last sparring match between Julian English and his wife Caroline was so real, so believable; great stuff to read.
The fiery crash, it's just a formality before you get on a plane...