Weeknotes: July 7–11, 2025
Monday, July 7
I dreamed my air conditioner had created ice deposits all around the house. The basement staircase was encased in a narrowing chute of ice like the walls of an old freezer. There was frost on my furniture, the ceiling, and clinging in the corners like hornet's nests.
I wake in a panic in my dry room. My first action of the day is to open all the windows and let the cool morning air circulate through my world.
I broke down and bought those new running shoes, but that was yesterday. Today, I'm shopping for some new kayak gear. My deck rigging has lost its elasticity and needs replacing. I also don't have a dock line, which would have been helpful over the weekend when I was hanging on to a half-submerged log to avoid drifting out from the lee of an old oak tree on Appleton Lake. I add a heavy duty dry bag to my order as if I'm going on a real adventure instead of paddling local segments of the Huron on weeknights.
Weeknotes: December 30, 2024 – January 3, 2025
Monday December 30
The sun returns after several days of drear and what a difference it makes. I visit my parents and eat chili seasoned with brown sugar. My mom puts brown sugar in everything, a secret ingredient of her long happy life. My dad and I work down in the woodshop cutting and sanding some lumber for a couple home improvement projects I hope to complete before my vacation ends. Last night I saw the Bob Dylan biopic, A Complete Unknown, and was unexpectedly moved by it. It made me think of my parents and I urge them to go see it while it's in theaters.
I've had a lifelong respect for Dylan, but he's never really been my guy. I’ve owned various records, sung his songs, watched documentaries, and even read his memoir. I've flirted with "going through a Dylan phase" many times in my life, but it just never quite clicks. I didn't really have any expectations for Timothée Chalamet; my only reference was the recent Dune movies, but I've seen David Lynch's version so many times, it's hard for me to accept anyone but Kyle MacLachlan as my Paul Atreides.
Anyway, I loved the movie and was won over by Chalamet. I think biopics are always more successful when they set limitations and examine a specific era of a subject's life. The Greenwich Village folk scene of the early-'60s has always held an allure for me. Although they grew up in Chicago, my parents were the perfect age for that time. Together since they were 16, they graduated high school in 1963 and loved music more than anything. They were bopping around the clubs and coffeehouses of Chicago, steeping in the cultural abundance of that era during their late-teens. How lucky for them. I loved my teendom in the mid-'90s, but if there were another era I could be young in, I bet I would have thrived in that one. I'll just have to try and thrive in the present, a worthy goal for 2025.
Weeknotes: December 2–6, 2024
A condensed edition this week. Yet again, I’ve borrowed a format idea from my hero, Walknotes (thank you, Denise!).
STRAY THOUGHTS & OBSERVATIONS
I take Islay to the pet store to have her nails trimmed by a professional. She trembles, but tolerates it, giving me a wounded look through the grooming salon window. Afterward, I reward her with a walk at County Farm Park. We're behind a Ford Escape with the shaft of its rear wiper missing. I don't think the driver realizes it's on. Its little black stump wags back and forth every few seconds like a shy, sweet dog.