A terrible moment of indecision:
Do I serve breakfast — which is neither Japanese nor pasta — in the blue and white Japanese pasta bowls that my wife insists are “small plates”, or the brown Japanese pasta bowls, about which she insists the same?
This is my life, now, in California; post-Missouri malaise, post-caregiving, post-homelessness, post-isolation.
I live in a three-year-old condo in one of Anaheim’s trendier neighborhoods. I have room to move, and breathe, and draw and write. I have a wonderful wife, an adorable dog, and neighbors whose names, faces, and personalities I know well. I have access to craft beer, wine, booze, coffee shops, pizza, Hawaiʻian food, Mexican food, Punjabi food, Japanese food, fancy burgers, fried chicken, seafood, subs and fast food, a grocery store and a pharmacy, an outdoor gym and a ping pong table and a saltwater pool — even a dog groomer and a comic book store — all within easy walking distance. …
“A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds….”
You may think that I’m quoting Ralph Waldo Emerson, but I’m not. Not directly, anyway.
Rather, I’m quoting Dr. Harvey Hecht quoting Emerson. As much as I fan-girled Emerson (and especially “Self-Reliance”) when I studied American literature at Southeast Missouri State University, I liked Dr. Hecht more, and I think it was his influence which caused me to file that half-quote away in an easily accessible synapse, ready to fire up and engage any time a change of stance, action, or perception felt like it needed a quick justification.
This is such a time. …