THE MENTAL JUICES

When I returned from my morning's walk, the sleeping person in the entry way of our building had disappeared. He camps out there more or less once a week, and like a calm rational man starts his nap-arrangement with a cup of coffee before closing his eyes. Once or twice we've exchanged pleasantries. We are both pleased that the weather here seems to be improving.
Like him, I too enjoy a stimulating drink in the evening. Caffeine helps lengthen the day.
It's also the perfect way to start the morning.
Better than pills.

I mention the pills, because I take five prescribed medications every morning, along with three supplements. Instead of bacon, eggs, and a stack of flapjacks oozing syrup, breakfast is eight bottles, a dose of Java, and ambulation with a pipe.

One of my friends starts the day, per his own admission, with a screaming session, followed by cheese, and a cigar. Not surprisingly he lives alone. Even during the years when I lived alone in North Beach, I could not have done that. Though it would have limited contact with my neighbors, and therefore would have had a lot to recommend it.
Another friend makes coffee, checks the internet, then walks across the park to work at around slightly before or slightly after noonish (I am not sure which), picking up a pastry and another beverage across the street from the book depository.

For all three of us, necessary bathroom functions are part of the deal, and must be factored in.


One friend lives in Boston, and among other things, reads the news sometime after waking up. He forwarded tragic reading from this morning's Washington Post a few hours ago. Please assume the necessary bathroom functions. Boston is known for beans.


John Richards, apostrophe's bulwark, croaks


"Dear Sir or Madam,

Because there seems to be some doubt about the use of the apostrophe, we are taking the liberty of drawing your attention to an incorrect use. We would like to emphasise that we do not intend any criticism, but are just reminding you of correct usage should you wish to put right the mistake."

Thus begins a standard letter, received over the years by many helpless iggerunters floored by the complexity of their own native language. By which kind notice they were helpfully alerted to a howling lapse, possibly a moral failure, on their part.

The news of John Richards' passing is tragic.



Apostrophes, properly used, counter greenhouse gasses and rising sealevels.

Coffee kickstarts the machine, and wakes up essential processes.

Walking is good for both digestion and circulation.

And a pipe pisses off earthmoms.



All of this, for some reason not fundamental to internal functions but probably reflective of them reminds me of British author Wyndham Lewis, with whom you would do well to familiarize yourself. Some of his works have been translated into Dutch, so you have no excuse.

That first cup of coffee hits hard.

Apostrophe's.



==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================