The darker light side

Sometimes, I am simply not in the mood–or don’t have the emotional capacity?–to respond well to shallow ideas.  The latter part of yesterday seemed to be one of those times (although Vi rescued me in the evening, when we talked about the whys and wherefores of gender and bureaucracy).

It started with the small irritation of the local transit company’s 43 bus line, which seems to haul lots of people and thus has many signed vehicles:  they claim their route as “Costa Mesa Triangle Square.” The least bit of exploring online produces the headline “We’re changing the shape of Triangle Square,” which does nothing for my confidence in the locale’s basic grasp of geometry.  Should people with this spacial challenge be on the roads?

In front of the Marriott, there i a small lawn, nicely manicured, of course, and studded with modest decorateive “rocks,” each of which bears a circle of perforations facing the circular drive.  Late in the afternoon, these rocks were emitting Muzak. Although I ahd susssed them out as speakers earlier in the week, my mood made the experience depressing rather than either humorous or simply forgettable.

The Crystal Cathedral is a scant 4 blocks from my hotel and the hotel room’s local guide book features an ad for its “gardens, bronze statues,” and so forth.  the photo accompanying the ad copy frightens me: adolescent Stepford twins with their parents.

Bob, with whom I had a brief phone chat last evening, has been having his own SoCal experience, including a sisterly attempt to church him. This included another person (not hi sister!) rendering our new home as Scotia Nova–along with a request to explain where that might be. I am not sure how clever of mood Bob MIGHT have been to respond within th subjunctive about the possible locations for an imaginary mirror province.

A night of sleep would have, no doubt, improved my state of crankiness. And the subjunctive is fully intended here.

 

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