#i remember reading an article in like 2022 and this very bitter very old guy wrote paragraphs upon paragraphs in the comments

[chebepowder]

😭 Incredible start to this very good article.

[davidpwilson2564]

Bloglet

Tuesday, January 11, 2022

Bight sunlight.  Bitter cold.  I to to the East Side to see Dr. Harmon.  I am  put through numerous tests by his assistants, all very nice.  As my folder is passed around each of them sees I have a birthday coming up, the thought of which, no surprise, doesn’t make the heart sing.  (In between tests I head back to the waiting room.  The octogenarian Chinese twins [I have seen them before] are there, one of them sort of leading the other by the hand. Someone on the staff is fluent in Chinese, making matters less complicated.) I see Dr. Harmon.  He is masked, of course, and wearing a kind of doo-rag. The good news: he says he doesn’t have to see me for six months. Exiting...There is faint choral music coming from the room where the young lady is doing the books.  Not quite loud enough to identify  (say, if I were able).  I ask her what the music is and she says it is a “Mozart Mass”...a contrast to music usually being played in doctor offices.  

I want to do some shopping on the way home but I am intent on getting warm.  I head home.  Ah...home...and glad to be. 

Wednesday, January 12, 2022

The Jan 6 Committee requests that Kevin McCarthy speak with them.  No way.  He is under strict orders to remain silent.  

Trump consents to speak, by phone, with the NPR guy,  Steve Inskeep.  I know his voice but had no idea what he looked like, or how to spell his name, until I read the article. Trump calls Mitch McConnell a loser... They are a few questions into the interview when Trump starts talking about the “landslide” victory that was rightfully his.  All of those dead people who voted... Oh boy.  When pressed on the accuracy of this story (which is pure fiction) Trump hangs up.   (He’s good at this.  Remember the “Sixty Minutes” interview...)  

Night noises.  I have told you before about the murphy bed above me that sometimes comes crashing down at the odd hour.  (But...still..I am so lucky...prewar building...thick walls...)  Sometimes the upstairs person (not the owner of the apartment but, I think,  a friend...a casual sublet, contrary to house rules) walks around in the wee hours.  I am reminded of a line from  Nabokov...”I lodged under an old lady with feet of stone and above a young woman with hypersensitive hearing.”  

The Spectrum Classics channel.  There are some pieces I cannot hear enough.  And some pieces I cannot bear to hear again.  Listening, at its most pleasant, brings back memories of first having heard a piece (live on in person).  At its most unpleasant, memories of a conductor who was a pill.  

to be continued