.Sunday, March 31, 2002

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a pair of Moms and a pair of Dads

 

"If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore!."
R. W. Emerson (1803-1882)

 

 

 

 

Easter

I am lazy again. I lounge in the bed until I really need my coffee. Then I sit at my computer in my bathrobe. My parents come right after the early service at their church. So I answer the door in my bathrobe and go get ready.

We all go in the van (Dad's) and get the in-laws. At Zoot, they all eat their food with abandon. So it is a big success with them.

I'm always struck by how much our parents seem to enjoy the good food in restaurants with nice sauces and baskets of fresh, interesting bread. We are spoiled. They don't go out as much as we. Dad takes a card from the front table. A friend at church asked him where he was going for brunch. He's going to take the card to him.

Forrest's parents don't seem to want to do anything more. We take them home. My parents are interested in a ride. So we drive out to Westlake and go to the Barnes and Noble. We all wander around and buy a few things. I get a copy of A Beautiful Mind in spite of the fact that I've sworn off buying books. Yes, well. I want to read it after the movie. I do resist any other purchase for me. We go north on Cap. Texas and back toward town on West Lake Drive. There are bluebonnets, almost but not quite at their peak. Soon we are back near Zoot. We go over to Lamar and take that route back to our house.

Somehow the rest of my long weekend disappears. I work at the computer. I read A Beautiful Mind. I dig around and find a book I have (but haven't read) about Fermat's Last Theorem. I read an article in The New York Times magazine about a T-Shirt, sent to a thrift store in New York, following its journey to a man in Africa. We watch the Women's basketball championship. We watch Six Feet Under, taped. Somewhere in there we eat some chips and cheese and hot sauce and guacamole. I lie in bed watching TV and then listening to jazz and reading. I want to fall asleep. It's getting late. I can't. Finally I turn out the light. But I can't sleep. I keep turning a theorem over and over in my head, looking for a proof by contradiction. I know the theorem is an easy one, probably, but it was just mentioned in passing in A Beautiful Mind. I can't stop my mind mulling it. It's silly...I'll never do math again.

About a year too short. That's how long my long weekend was. I was easing into a creative form of leisure, too.

 

 

 

 

JUST TYPING
My long weekend.
Was just that.
Deliciously long.
But not long enough.
By years.


 

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