Well,
dear reader, it has been quite a month. Looking back over the month's posts, it went from naked gardening to report cards,
with pink kittens, bad math, Buddhist teaching, windy weather, Bach and
basketball and the continued outrage of that guy who continues to thrash around
like the bull in the china shop of democracy.
On
the school front, Spring Concerts tucked away, report cards rearing their
unwelcome heads next to the annual Samba Contest. Today 4th graders
in groups of four put together a coherent samba dance routine in eight minutes flat. Kids never
fail to astound me with their energy, spirit, intelligence and kindness and
that’s why I’m signing up for another tour of duty next year. Of course, they
drive me up the wall, as is their job, but for now, the delight outweighs the
insanity.
On
the personal front, I went the entire 31 days without eating a granule of
sugar, generally ate healthier and less, but the mirror is not reporting any
progress on the 10-lbs.-less front. I vowed not to step on the scale until June
1 and tomorrow I will do so with fear and trembling. But really, at the end of
the day, why should I even care? No young woman at bars are checking me out
anyway and if my sense of beauty hasn’t moved its address to the soul by now,
then I’ve wasted all these years. I did hike and bike more as well, not just to
make numbers drop on the scale or rise on the cardio-vascular count, but for
the simple pleasure of being outdoors and moving the body. I changed my
screensaver on the computer, thought more about getting an i-Phone and decided
“still not yet,” and got through another month without a microwave (never have
had one—don’t think I ever will).
On
the art consumption front, I reluctantly finished the wonderful book The
Time In-Between, now am into Commonwealth by Ann Patchett and enjoyed the always thought-provoking words of
Wendell Berry in his new collection A Small Porch. Got hooked into the
HBO series Veep, always there for me when I’m tired of thinking or
producing or creating. I’m sure I saw some good movies, but except for the most
recent Spanish film Truman, of course, I can’t remember them. I went to
the Summer of Love exhibit at the De Young Museum and enjoyed some wonderful
shows at SF Jazz.
In
my own artistic pursuits, the piano and I remain close. Every once in a while
it lets me feel that I’m breaking new ground in jazz improvisation or classical
piano precision, only to turn around on some days and say with a smirk, “Just
kidding!” The blog also remains a faithful companion, but my connection to it
is indeed diminished by the either real or fake mammoth drop in stats.
Yesterday it said 0! And is hovering between 20 and 70. (Thanks to Jeffrey
Wilson for commenting that he’s still a faithful reader!)
June
will kick off with the Warriors match of mythical proportions with the
Cavaliers. I’ve been a faithful playoff fan, watching each of the 12 games they
won. Now it feels like the meeting of “an irresistible force with an immovable
object.” Should be exciting, but if the Warriors don’t sweep the series (not
impossible, but unlikely), I’ll once again miss the final games unless I can
find a Sports Bar in Morocco. Devastated about that! We’ll see what happens.
For
the few faithful readers left, that’s the news and I know none of it deserves
to be interesting, but occasionally I hope a sentence or two entertains you or
provokes an interesting thought or affirms an unspoken feeling—or at least
gives you a good book or movie recommendation! Happy June to you all!
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