Tuesday, April 21, 2026

NOT TO BE THOUGHT

It rained most of the day yesterday. After lunch I lit my pipe and walked over to a likely spot to shelter, where I stood in pensive silence enjoying the street scene. A streetperson sat nearby smoking a fruity cheroot. It stank a bit, but a fellow smoker also seeking respite from the soggy weather. Personally I would not have smoked what he smoked -- a matter of tobacco tastes -- but I made no comment. Before he became homeless he may have been an up and coming office worker often chased out into the cold and wet to indulge his filthy habit. So it may have been a perverse point of pride. Who am I to judge someone else's lapses?


A block away Tat Yee was inside his usual haunt, not smoking, but probably with a fully loaded pipe at ready for the moment when the rain would finally stop.
Which it wouldn't for another three hours.

The bus stop was filled with wet people. The bus ditto. When I got home my shoes felt cold.
I put my coat and umbrella to dry and settled in, deciding that I really did not need a warm beverage if I had any hope of getting to sleep at a reasonable hour.


Last Tuesday I had slept too little, and consequently I was a bit testy throughout the day. Under such circumstances I'm somewhat more likely to tell the old bozos in the back precisely what I think of them. I didn't, but I could have.
There is little point to starting a war.
While smoking after lunch I remembered an old Mandarin language movie with a lovely song and rotten weather. Was it the rain, or the lyrics?

Today will not be a day for such things. I shall be at work, which is not an environment suited to melodies, and in the evening I will probably regretfully pass the karaoke bar, because tipsy white yuppies murder melodies.

Heaven forfend I should tell them precisely what I think of them.



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NOT TO BE THOUGHT

It rained most of the day yesterday. After lunch I lit my pipe and walked over to a likely spot to shelter, where I stood in pensive silence...