Friday, May 27, 2016

May 26, 2016

Rose at 4:30, when the world was wondrous still. Even the frogs–two of them now– were silent in the pond. Most amazing, actually, as if a blanket had been lowered on the world. Drove three hours to Charlotte Douglas for an interview for the Global Entry Program, which lasted four minutes and began with, “I have already approved you–.“ I tried to anticipate the things that would disqualify me in the eyes of the TSA– turns out there were none. My hatred of them is apparently not mutual. All was well. I got a coffee drunk and some writing done even in the vast ticket lobby. Moreover, I was filled with the desire to travel, and soon. I decided to make the day a test of whether I can or not, checking stamina and all that. The airport gave off a happy and non-panicked vibration, despite recent stories to the contrary. The woman before me in the interview line was blond and voluble and has a house in Chimney Rock. The interviewer looked alike a movie star. Returning, I pulled over in Morganton, having chosen randomly among potential visitation sites. I’d been in Morganton once in the dark of night to sing with the Choral Society 33 years ago, but never since. I strolled around in the sun that was, finally, hot, visited the Jail House art gallery (expecting worse) and roamed the few streets, having a salad here, a glass of wine there, realizing I was in full explorer mode, going about the streets of Morganton exactly as I would about the streets of Rome, except for not being loomed over in my café chair by thousand year old Santa Somebody. It was happy and good, except I was worn out and sagged into bed when I got home, and did not fully recover for the rest of the evening. What to do about this? The consult people have not called.

At the choir get-together, MM defined for me my problem with Edward Albee. M said, “Albee transports Absurdist situations into realistic environments.” That’s exactly right, and it is a breach of decorum I cannot find it in myself to forgive. It violates both parents in a bastard child who can be, at his absolute best, merely a magniloquent smart aleck.

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