5:00 AM, 7.28.2009
Slept 8-9 hours (8pm to 4am)
Mood - Stable 6-7 out of 10 (with 10 being orgasmic)
Location: College Park Plaza, Iowa City, Iowa 52240
For those who may be concerned, I will be posting daily updates on my blog. I will be check my phone for messages at 6AM, 10AM, Noon, 2 PM, 4 PM and 6 PM; unless I am in a meeting. Part of the reason I was hospitalized recently seems related to the fact that my doctor lacked detailed information about my condition, location, mood and activities. Hopefully, my new plan (assuming I carry it out) will remedy this.
There is a horrendous vibrating hum coming from the pillar in front of me. Mut be an electrical junction box.
Steven Bock, my friend the rock and roll star (Truth and Janey, Enoch Smokey, Nowhere Fast) will be passing on soon it seems. He had an accidental overdose of medication and was in a coma yesterday when I saw him in the hospital. I have not checked my phone for references this morning, so he may be dead as I write this. Why do I shy from using the word dead? Steve and I spent hours talking about life and death. We never found the word frightening. I think my fear of using the word death now comes from the simple fact that I am afraid that others will think me cold hearted or insensitive for using it. Ridiculous. Steve doesn't care. I don't care. Henceforth, dead and death will be used to replace deceased, passing on and similar euphemistic idiocies created to protect the sensibilities of those who are squeamish about life.
A number of odd evens have happened to me lately. I need to write about them. I have ample evidence that keeping them inside leads to poor mental health.
The following is a combination of actual record of events at Starbucks Coffee on the corner of Clinton and Burlington in Iowa City, Iowa this morning. It is interspersed with observations (in italics) about strange events that have occurred lately. The style is stream of consciousness.
I recently attended a performance of Midsummer's Nights Dream, by the Riverside Theatre Group. The air was cool and relatively free of insects - at least as I experienced it.
I had the distinct feeling that the audience with the exception of my friend, a Hilary Clinton look alike, was composed entirely of former Andersen Consulting and Arthur Andersen & Co. partners. They had been brought together to view a rewrite of Midsummer Night’s Dream that highlighted my beginnings and maturation at AA&Co. The purpose of the display was to enlighten them as to the pain that they had caused me and to let me watch them as they underwent their re-education about what they had lost in the name of personal greediness and how much pain they had allowed into the world for the same reason. I have learned that these types of feelings are nothing more than self-centered grandiousity.
My landlord appeared and told people that he was "my best friend" as though this was something special or worthy of note. Odd. I became irritated at this. I have only know him for a few weeks.
There was a Chelsea Clinton look alike who opened up the ticket booth. I felt as if we connected on a deep level when she smiled. Who can say?
There was a red-haired woman in the play. It seemed as if I was receiving and sending secret messages to the players (especially the red haired one) as the evening progressed.
My seating arrangements at the play had a special significance to me:
My Landlord
Dressed as I
Might have looked
When I returned from
Hawaii several years ago
A young man
who looked a lot
like I might have
looked as a young
man.
Me, Lounging in a
folding chair.
Before the play a woman and young girl came near. The woman put mosquito repellant on the girl's feet. The woman told me to use the word ODD whenever I saw someone or something out of the ordinary.
The Chelsea look-alike told me to stay "right where I was". The implication seemed to be that they would bring whatever I needed to me. I found this idea very relaxing.
I kept getting the feeling that she was referring to the Democratic party.
Recently I sent an offer of help to a Veteran's organization. A couple of days before attending the play I got a reply saying that the organization had enrolled me as a Dem-Vet. (Democratic Veteran?)
Prior to the play I lay on the hillside near City Park. Many of the cars slowed and looked at me. Some of the children waved at me. I waved back.
Just before the play a lot of people were putting on insect repellent. It was odd that I did not even get one mosquito bite that I can recall. One of the attendees looked a lot like David ?, an old friend from a project long ago. He is the one I got the phrase, "Living Life, Loving Large" from. It is interesting that when I use this phrase people smile and I seem to get along with them - even when I do not really feel it. David and I used to discuss Kant's concept of an a priori cause. Dave told me that Kant did not begin writing until age 50. Odd.
6:10 AM Starbucks – elderly gentleman enters, has mustache similar to the one worn by my old professor George Forell.
Guards, comprised of the children of former AA&Co. Board of Partner members were placed around me as the theatre filled. One in particular, reminded me of Manuel Soto, Chairmen of the member of AA&Co. board of partners who once said of my report, A Question of Balance, “This is some of the best writing that I have ever read.”
6:12 AM Mr. Hartwig enters. He bends over in front of me to pick up a coin or some item on the floor. He says good morning. I reply, “Good morning, How are you doing?” in a voice that is a little too loud.
6:13 Man in brown pants and brown plaid sport coat enters. I do not see his face as he gets his coffee and leaves. (Note: For several weeks I have had the feeling that people are coming into Starbucks to see me.) It seems that I should know them but when I am in my current state it is difficult to determine if what I see is real or simply an experience of synchronicity – a well known and documented psychological phenomenon. When I experience this feeling I get the distinct impression that everybody looks like someone I have known in the past.
6:16 Dark haired (Hispanic, no probably Asian?) man orders coffee. He reminds me of no one. He retreats to the middle of the shop and chews his fingernails while waiting for his coffee.
6:26 African-American Gentleman enters and buys coffee. Handsome face. Very compact build.
6:27 Man in cap, wearing Swiss Army insignia backpack enters and buys coffee.
He must be used to very cold weather. Wearing heavy coat.
African American gentleman enters and orders coffee. He wears black shirt and pants. Shaved head.
Joe (Starbuck's) comments. “Must be going to see everybody in here early today.”
I feel very happy for no apparent reason.
My brother Mike called me yesterday and talked at length about the fact that he was happy. He wanted to understand why so he could make sure that he could be happy all of the time. He said he was thinking of taking another dose of Lexapro. It was if he was so unused to the phenomena that he thinks he must be crazy for having it. I have had that feeling – mistrusting or feeling unworthy of being happy while at the same time wanting to find a way to make the happiness last forever.
6:31 Bob Dylan comes on the radio. I don’t recall hearing this before.
6:35 Lovely young woman enters. Orders pastry and coffee. Yellow top – squarish shoulders – letters say Nursing something or the other. Red leather wallet. Khaki pants.
Before and during the Shakespeare play I am protected by the sons of the former board members of the AA&Co. board of partners. The son of Manuel Soto stands proudly before all of the other sons of the Board of AA&Co. partners. His proud Spanish heritage worn on his face like a shield he stands ready to repel and destroy if necessary, any who would dare disturb my repose or do me harm.
6:38 Middle aged woman enters. Green coat. Band aid on lip. She looks over merchandise. Don’t see her order coffee.
6:40 Two younger women enter. One in jungle pattern, black and white top. Heavy.
6:42 Mother and daughter enter. Daughter has lovely face. Deep brown hair in pigtail.
6:43 Indian? Pakistani? Man enters. Lime green shirt – same color as my pillow covers. Wearing faded jeans.
6:45 Tall young man. Yellow shirt. Jeans, Sneakers.
Very heavy woman enters. Purple top – purple seems to have a deep significance to me these days – color of royalty, also color that mixes pink (feminine) and blue (masculine).
Business man. Striped shirt. Black dress pants. He says, “Coffee is better than sex man.”
Joe says, “It adds up.” Reference to rewards card?
6:49 Man in purple top orders coffee. Sandals. Orange hair. Blue eyes. Related?
Older gentleman in checked top and matching brown dress pants.
6:50 Seems like I could go on for days. Simply recording what comes by to use as future fodder for stories.
African American Gaia enters. Three highlighted blond strands lost in a sea of coal curls. Very heavy but the voice could create an erection from quicksand. She discusses coffee with Joe.
Joe says, “Ethiopian is like a dry red wine. It’s dirty but not in a bad way if you know what I mean.”
6:53 Man in brown enters. Medium brown top. Light brown pants. It looks like he is growing a beard – good idea it would help give definition to his chin and hide the growing roll of fat beneath his chin. His face reminds me of Ralph Virgo – an old friend from college days. One of Ralph’s favorite phrases was – General Malaise. A phrase he often used when describing his wife. I visited Ralph once in Minneapolis. I wonder if he still lives there. Was he gay? Was I in love with him without knowing it?
Was thinking of walking but maybe I will just record until Bob arrives.
Saxophone solo comes on just as I have the above thought.
6:58 Joe says, "Look at this guy."
Hagar has added another painted bananna to the one she already had put in the basket.
7:00 A.M. Bob arrives.
