Melançon Enterprises • a multidivision multinational since 1980

Watching old James Bond movies I hold my breath along with the action underwater to see if I can do it, and usually can. Ha! It's not the same at all. I don't think I was under the boat for more than 30 seconds, 45 tops. Not that I was counting or even thinking about counting.

Swimming under the boat, the mental and physical effort of working on an insane knot, and knowing you have to get out from under the boat without being caught in the line or the propeller itself— well, it's a whole lot more than holding your breath.

I'm falling in love with this girl through her blog.

In different ways than in person, more elements of her personality show. I didn't say anything meeting in person.

No sense injecting weirdness into a very nice, new, casual friendship. When distance, at least for now, prevents it from being more anyway.

Who leaves the thermostat set at all in August? And since when does August fall to 64 degrees?

i've been partying harder than working -- it's an interesting change, but same effects of sleep deprivation
... what I like to call "enhanced ADD"

Outside Chicago's Union Station, I just saw a man pick up a half-used cigarette. And he wasn't asking for money like a couple other people were. He could be me, white guy maybe my age, except he had a little more attention to style (though I'm in the shorts G bought and the Agaric T-shirt!). He was probably wearing his socks right though.

Really drives home the obvious fact that people don't ask for handouts because they want to, as if they have other options that are just a little harder.

In St. Louis at the Tivoli theater.

Reaffirmed my hatred of unjust inequality and highlighted the insanity of a dysfunctional economic system that rewards smiling right at rich tourists more than productive hard work.

Most certainly made my obsession with not wasting food worse, although that wasn't an issue really for even the peasant family profiled.

Hopefully scared me into working harder as soon as I stop procrastinating by writing about it.

AKA the cleaning out Ian's refrigerator before his trip to Massachusetts and Pennsylvania banquet at Ian's place in Saint Louis, this was around Friday of the week after Unity, so one of the first days of August I believe.

I cooked:

Kate's carrots, chopped more or less in short strips or quartered, slanted rounds. Three and a half carrots I think.

A big white onion and a few small regular (yellow?) onions

The gigantic zucchini from Ian's neighbors' garden (which was the point)

Garlic, chopped.

Fresh ginger, chopped.

Fresh cilantro. I think.

Message from Brad Eller:

Cocktail hour!

07/24 6:30 PM (5:30 Chicago time)

And a later one:

Hey Kara,

I just figured out that

"Fwd: Where are you? We have parties to go to!"

is the text that Dan forwarded to me after you sent it to the business phone.

You were really trying to get me in trouble, weren't you?

:-P

Kara Andrade:

"At the middle of the line to see Obama. Right next to the bathrooms. Come on up!"
7/27 10:50 a.m. (9:40 a.m. Chicago time)

After a high-speed, high-stakes drive with some miss-turns trying to get to Union Station, the great Drupaler S.B. dropped me off exactly on the Amtrak side, with 4 minutes to go to the 7 p.m. departure. I was downstairs and approaching the platform at 6:57 p.m., a young black man who had probably just finished helping load all the other passengers pointed me to the gate and said I had better hurry.

Two Amtrak workers are standing near the gate, and two more not far off.

A black woman says "The platform has cleared. You can't get on."

I'm tired of being me.

And of course even though the train is probably 100 yards away, there's no way I can get on it, stuff will (in theory) be brought up to lost and found tomorrow.

No one offered to take a report (I was sent to someon who 'may have a key' so I talked to two people) or something so I could claim it in advance. I guess that's my responsibility to press if it were important? But there doesn't seem to be a process.

A little return of the anger at the world and whomever may make a claim to run it (naturally, unnaturally, or supernaturally) for taking away someone who absolutely wanted to live, but mostly, I am all right.

Dad never taught me to shave or do a lot of other things that are probably considered expected fatherly duties, but he gave me education and a reason for being that are much more valuable.

And definitely a part of me is telling the Celtics to get their act together and beat L.A. It's the least they can do in tribute to a lifelong fan.

Tired, trying to work on a mélange of Agaric Design tasks and jobs, in Williamsburg, with my heart a little broken.

But I still have a friend.

(The Amish also take Amtrak... or at any rate it appears both groups take Greyhound and Amtrak, but apparently do not fly.)

I felt a little bad pulling out my computer and camera with Mennonites sitting all around me.

Maybe if I made them a web site they'd let us eat their food after oil wipes out corporate agriculture...

Took Zelda through Pegan cove, down the tracks, doubling back a little to go up the aptly named Cemetery Street (how they have traffic go in both directions on that road I'll never know) and to the high school and out past the playing fields, then Rockland to Farwell out by Jeff's old house, left on Cottage, right on Coolidge Ave., up to the top of the hill and then down towards Coolidge field, and into town, across the common, and down onto the train tracks at Natick station to take the ex-railroad bed home.

(Done is in bold.)

1. Eat Mexican food (good vegan burrito at a seafood place)
2. Lay out on the beach
3. Eat lots of produce (some)
4. Visit a mission (almost did, in Riverside, though it's a hotel now?)
5. Go to Mexico (day/night/overnight trip)
6. Getty Museum in L.A.
7. Venice Beach
8. Encinitas
9. Watch people in their cars

General
1. Sleep!
2. Eat lots of food
3. Bask in the sun
4. Get new stuff
5. Feel healthy

Carlos to Kara and I

See our pictures from inside the hotel room

Losing luggage in Brooklyn and working the public transport possibilities.

After a really fantastic dinner with Cathy, Stacey, Brian, Manda, and Rich (at the Samba steakhouse and sushi in Framingham)
since it was while walking all over Brooklyn and New York last weekend that her foot sustained what is probably a stress fracture.

Got some basic advice too: (tie shoes, good not to button the top button but button all the way to the top button... thanks Rich!)

After a very dispiriting day trying to do taxes, I mailed two checks to the socially responsible investment firms that lose my money, and Mom drove me to the Amazing Things Arts Center's new firehouse, where I helped set up and put out all the chairs for Friday night show, and we both caught up on what all has been going on. In short, it's all good, as long as Michael gets better.

For the second time in about a year (last time was in the fall I think) I've been bitten by a deer tick... small, and with the brown around the back. Swimming in alcohol now. Vegans do fight back when attacked. Those ticks dig in fast and deep and I am not very observant with my own body– it must have gotten on me walking the dogs yesterday in the town forest.

Both dogs seem to be tick free.

Kids, listen up– this is why you should get naked whenever possible, never fall asleep with your shirt on, and shower every day.

For the record, I got into Boston to meet Rich, Manda, and Andrew late, after a very slow drive through Wellesley traffic and ending up at Riverside instead of any slightly farther along green line stop, and after having shaved in the shower in a fashion that was much remarked upon. I don't think there are pictures.

(Resolved: shave with plenty of time and take the commuter rail, however empty the schedule.)

First attraction, Onward Toward Calgary, a very funny, very crazy film.