And Then. . . .

And then. . . suddenly. . . everything starts to turn and change, and life is not so bad after all.  The Great Cycle you thought had died comes again.  It is nothing big, of course.  You find a channel that lets you watch t.v. shows on demand that you hadn't known was there.  You realize that Apple T.V. has iTunes which has college radio stations and suddenly your house is full of unexpected music again.  Not only that, of course, but the crazy, wonderful sensibilities of youth, of people for whom life is still a joyful, happy possibility.  You go to breakfast and the waitress knows what you want on Sunday which is different than what you would order if it were Saturday.  Afterwards, they are playing Ryan Adams at the record store.  At home, you take a nap without guilt and look forward to working on the good photographs you took on Friday.  Then, while marketing for dinner with mother, the girl at the cash register whom you've thought interesting for a long time looks you in the eye and asks questions as if she is interested, laughing and moving softly, glancing up from the groceries she is bagging with a grin from time to time.  Stupid things.  Little things.  Dinner is delicious and there is Belgian beer and hand dipped dark chocolate figs afterwards.  And walking your mother to the car with a new scotch in hand, you stand together looking at the almost full moon.  It is all nothing, just a silliness, but it is far and away enough.

Now I sit to write you this, the cat's rough tongue raking my shins and the tops of my feet.

This girl.  What can I say?  This is what she wore to the studio on Friday night, just her walking around clothes.  She doesn't know who Bridget Bardot was.  She has never heard of anything at all.  You'd think she'd copied them line for line.