. elsewhere . . letters from the inaccessible .


20 september 2002

but first, a note from our sponsor

It's a good thing for you that I've had a very strange sense of... creeping dissatisfaction lately which I have thus far identified as (primarily) itchy typing finger. Having spent now 2 weekends without the company of my sweetie isn't exactly helping. I bought a video game, a laptop computer (at a very reasonable price, and in transit according to UPS), and more than a few DVDs. Crankiness has been following me around, and I want to write. The problem is, I've lost a good deal of faith in the publication value of the Sparkling Tower series, not because they're not good stories (which I believe some are the best I've written), but because they take place in a 100+ story building on the Ginza in Tokyo. Of course, I started this series after writing Sidereal Motion in early 2001 (which was, at the time, merely going to be a part of the now-on-indefinite-hold Travels, Visions, Procedures project)... many months before 9/11. The fact that that story collection has seen virtually no action since 9/11 has proven to be the least tragic outcome of the day. One story (called "The Formal Absence of a Precious Thing") was written later in 2001, but the Sparkling Tower lost nearly all of its momentum. And I have a fascinating story-universe cosmology and even mythology to explore. Hopefully I can get on with the next story which has been bouncing around in my head for many a month (working title: "Blood Diamonds"), but only time will tell on that one... and time, unfortunately, is something I do not have a considerable surplus of. And don't get me started on not writing any LiveJournal entries, poems, or calling friends with whom I haven't spoken in some months.

But I do have a couple emails in by Inbox to which to reply, namely from Kid Akio and Mr. Copeland. Don't worry, those aren't off my radar. Just that my radar has been as busy as an O'Hare air traffic controller's.

The Great American Fever Trip of 2002 (Part Three), or
  The First Day of Fine Dining and Fevers in San Francisco

Our last installment saw the first trip to the Emergency Room in Monterey treated by Dr. Psoriasis who seemed to want, more than anything, to administer to my sweetie a spinal tap test. And now..

The Story of Sunday

We awoke in the morning in Marina, California feeling rested, and my sweetie was feeling better, lending some credence to the flu diagnosis from the day before. Because of the time-vacuum of the ER the day before, we hadn't visited the Monterey Bay Aquarium as intended, so Sunday morning, we ventured back into Monterey (only after giving up on attempting a Denny's breakfast in Marina, the building being overcrowded to the point of causing a specific, localized gravitational distortion). The return to Monterey taught us one thing: Monterey and its vicinity is not a good place to attempt breakfast on a Sunday morning because one will either be completely unable to park, or, once docking is achieved, you will have to wait for a seat: irony visited upon us when we were relegated to eating breakfast at the Denny's in downtown Monterey.

After breakfast, we toured the aquarium, which is as I remembered it: very nice and entertaining, the jellyfish were a particular favorite of ours. Just as we were leaving, however, I started having the visual auras which seem to be precursors to a migraine: I stomped on that creeping brute with codeine, and was pleasantly not visited by much of a headache. Leaving Monterey we turned north along the Pacific Coast highway toward Santa Cruz and discovered the joy of traffic jams.... past Santa Cruz, however, the drive opened up and we had mostly clear roads through past the lighthouse (whose name I cannot remember now) which we visited only to discover that it was still closed to the public for safety reasons. The drive north through to Pacifica was very nice (even passing Pomponio beach).

In Pacifica, we ate lunch at McDonald's. We then continued up into San Francisco: through Golden Gate Park, across to Van Ness, and down, down, down into the not-so-wonderful neighborhood near City Hall. We checked in at the Days Inn "Civic Center" (which was, actually, a perfectly decent motel in a neighborhood which did not lend itself to convenient/nearby shopping or food, and then ran back off out into the town. We toured the town a bit, drove down Lombard street and spent some time at Fisherman's Wharf. The action wasn't fast nor furious, and my sweetie wasn't feeling well. At last we returned to the hotel and partook in a game of Trivial Pursuit, and then turned in for the night.

Next update: The Story of Monday.

musings of señor prod.

Pain is weakness leaving the body.


©2001 Timothy A. Clark -|-