Thursday, October 25, 2007



flying embers


Coming back to work late Monday afternoon after a dentist appointment, I suddenly had to see how it would feel in Ladera Ranch. (I'd met the place a few months before and been compelled by the contrast between the harshness of its environment, and the paradisical hype.) I took Antonio Parkway, but once I was there was led north by the smoke.

Antonio ends at sort of a deadend, at Avenida de las Flores. At least 100 people who felt the same as me had gathered there to park, get out and look at the afternoon flames.

Everyone had their cellphones aimed at the fire. They were taking pictures of it. It occurred to me this might be something Everyone Has Done For Thousands Of Years. I wanted to, too, but had no camera or cellphone around.

For some reason the porn star vibe of today's cool people seemed especially pronounced there, and touchingly inadequate.


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About Me

I came to Minneapolis from southern California this May to help my 88-year-old mother care for my 86-year-old father. He fell last November, and then declined cognitively for a month as his bones healed at a rehab facility under quarantine. He hasn't undeclined. Before retiring in the 1990s, he was a theater critic, & still seems to have some of his self-confidence and wit alongside vascular dementia, Parkinsonisms, incontinence and real trouble walking. Given his otherwise-ok health, he might still have some tolerable years ahead, though with new parameters. My mom's a novelist. She seems made of iron.