Generic Post

Another beautiful Friday. Wife sleeping on sofa, wakes up, sits up, looks at me, shakes head, laughs, says, "I'm going to bed."

"I thought that's where you were," I say.

"I certainly was sleeping." She pads off to take her nighttime meds. Jacob is coming tomorrow, although not early. He went to the doc in Louisville the other day to begin a new regimen for his medical condition; the regimen needs to take into consideration that he's now rapidly entering adolescence.

Rudy, at foot of sofa, is zonked, grinning in his sleep.

Boob tube's off. No Van De Graaff either. Yet.

It was a gorgeous sunny day, blue and gold and green, warm in the sun, cool in the shade. I remarked again that weather like this all the time (instead of mostly humidity and rain) would cause the Californicators to descend upon us like the Mongol hordes. We have enough as it is. I mean from California. We used to get urban refugees from such exotic places as Cincinnati.

My perspective on the immigration of big city swells here is of a native, born before WW II at that. I sat in front of a store this evening next to the Ohio Theater with a friend, Kevin, passing the time of day, and I thought about how many, many times I have walked these not-so-mean streets over a half-century plus a score of years. We were really provincial when I was a kid.

Had a sandwich with another friend, Sam, at the Downtowner across the street just before the visit with Kevin. Leisurely evening. Came home then and got the wife for another commune with nature. We drove downtown, along the river and along Main Street. By the time we got downtown it was deep dusk and most of the downtown strollers -- what's that French word? flaneur -- had vanished. The riverfront teemed with people. They're adding several observation points, extending the excellent brick walkway in both directions. Next week the city's beginning its bicentennial (200 years) celebration.

That's all.

Good night.