20 september 2002
great american part three -|-
musings of señor prod. -|-
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.