12.30.31

53rd birthday; necessarily quiet one, given the circumstances (pandemic, dad, rain).

Up 6. Coffee. Read ch. of Middlemarch. Breakfast.
My uncle Joseph called from Montana; then Bree and her parents, for about an hr.; then I called my godsister Diane, whom I hadn’t seen on Christmas Eve; caught me up on her dad. (My dad told me later that she’s 70, which genuinely surprised me.)
Some of late morning occupied w/ a Facebook birthday post (pretext to talk about Susan Straight’s Didion op-ed) and responses. Also read 30 p. or so of a short book by Stuart Hampshire, Justice Is Conflict.
Got out about 1:30, went to the Barnes & Noble at Montclair plaza to take advantage of the half-price hardback sale; got the new Joy Williams novel, 2nd vol. of Lydia Davis’s essays, Claudia Rankine’s Just Us (cheaper w/ the discount than the paperback), and Stephen Pinker’s book on style (I know). Also the same weekly planner I get for Bree every year, not discounted.
Went to the Baseline Starbucks, struggled, finally wrote an even shorter, boiled-down version of some transitional material, and bits on “Doggie in the Window?” and “Que Sera, Se”
Picked up some rapini, angel hair pasta, and ice cream at Whole Foods. 
Listened to most of the Spelling album between the various drives. Got back about 5:30, said hello to the substitute caregiver, rested in my room for about 40 min. and read just a little Brooks. Came back out and cooked the rapini and pasta w/ garlic & oil; did a decent job.
Played “Fascinating Rhythm” while my dad changed into his pajamas. Had some ice-cream. Jeopardy! Not done with all this until 9.

“I repeat: I am the writing project” (Carlos Lara)

“Poetry involves so much waiting” (Stephen Collis)

Petered out, couldn’t read more Brooks. Listened to the rest of a basic but good epistemology podcast w/ Liam Bright.
Poem in notebook, watched another 15 min. Safe. Emailed a covid attestation form (they’re needed weekly) to KSPC. Lights out 12:30.

12.28.21

Up 6. Read ch. Middlemarch. Breakfast, coffee, watched a Criminal Intent.
Skipped writing today. Left for San Fernando Valley about 10:30; in course of driving (both directions), listened to 1st discs of 2CD sets of Colpix singles (‘50s pop-rock, a few hits) and Lester Young’s Aladdin sessions, and The New Pornographers’ Brill Bruisers.
Stopped at a movie memorabilia store in Simi Valley that I’d read about. Lot of posters and lobby cards, all eras, some impressive and surprising stuff. Was tempted by such items as a 1950s Jane Wyman notepad ($20) and a Jackie Cooper pencil box (more for Bree; in a glass case, didn’t ask), but just wasn’t feeling it. Ultimately didn’t buy any thing. Guy who runs the store was more helpful/chatty than I needed, I slipped out when he was talking sports cards w/ someone else. 
Looked at a couple breakfast places nearby (I’d checked online.) But I didn’t feel like eating inside, or overeating; finally gotten a chicken sandwich at a drive-thru, threw away most of the bun, and parked to eat it. (Bree called while I was in line.)
Headed to Tarzana, happened upon a $10-or-less bookstore on the way — found a few oddities, inc. a Robert Sheckley paperback, Leland Hickman’s Tiresias, which I’ve almost bought several times, and a $1 Terry Riley CD. Actual destination was Record Trader, where I got the New Ps disc and 2 others, + the Spelling disc I played and liked on my show last week, a few other things. Got out for $60, probably didn’t buy anything over $8, all used.
Got coffee and an oat bran muffin at a nearby Peet’s, largely so I could use the bathroom before a 90 min. drive home. Alternated between music and All Things Considered; I haven’t heard radio news in some time. Mostly omicron. Also called the family attorney I missed yesterday, talked to his partner, should hear from him.
Back about 4:30; tired. Ended up watching most of Trouble in Paradise (Lubitsch 1932) w/ dad/caregiver. Catnap.
Couldn’t make myself do much between then and dinner; quite tired. Watched a little more of Safe.Dinner, Jeopardy! Didn’t want watch more TV.
Read 50 p. Brooks, on Geechie Wiley/Elvie Thomas and white blues criticism w/ breaks, finished at 10. One p. Poetry notebook. Lights out midnight.

12.27.21

Up 6. Coffee. Read a ch. of Middlemarch.
Met Kyle for breakfast at 9; hung out for 2 hrs. talked briefly about Emotional Discipline reissue, gave me a list of master tapes he has.
Bought coffee mugs and a White Stripes DVD in Goodwill.
Went to Ontario Library, bought a few things at the book sale, inc. a 1891 edition of James Whitcomb Riley (for a dollar) and a Dum Dum Girls CD.
Browsed the shelves a bit, ended up quickly reading all of a short book by Marguerite Duras, Writing. “Solitude is the thing without which one does nothing.” “One writes by waiting for a fly to relinquish his life.”
Wrote for a hour. 
Read another short book of the shelf - Douglas Batchelor, Minimalism, a quick but not facile overview of the big 5 (Judd, Andre, Morris, Flavin, LeWitt) and critical reaction thereto; would have liked something on their relation to galleries/museums/collectors - money, in a word.
Left about 4:30. (I’ve listened to the Staples Singers’ Xmas CD, now on a Bobby Womack best-of, inc. a remarkable funk reworking of “Nobody Know’s You When You’re Down and Out.” 
Called my uncle Anthony (I’d missed him when I went out). Read 25 p. Brooks, mainly on Lorraine Hansberry.
Dinner, Jeopardy!, watched about 1/2 of Ingmar Bergman’s Winter Light on DVR. Good, but depressing to the point of self-parody.
Retired to bed. Wasted some time and watched some of Todd Haynes’s Safe (before my Amazon Prime runs out) but then tidied up, found my phone, read another 25 p. Brooks on Ellen Willis. Wrote in poetry notebook. Lights out around midnight.

12.26.21

Up for a while around 3 am, talked to dad.
Back up between 7-8. Weight up around 205 after Xmas indulgences.
After breakfast, read 3 ch. Middlemarch and 25 p. Brooks. Watched an L&O.
Signed up for an online musical-theater class/workshop in Jan. to try and get somewhere on Chomsky/Foucault.
Left at noon, bought a few used recs at Penny Lane in downtown Upland, inc. some early Lester Young collections and a (white) pianist’s recording of James P. Johnson’s notated works.
Sat outside at Lucky’s up the block, tried to work w/o much success for 90 min. 
Looked in the little art/comics bookstore; slightly tempted by a book on David Hammons, but fortunately there were other patrons, so I didn’t feel trapped into making a purchase, as I sometimes do. Groceries on the way home.
Napped.
Dinner, Jeopardy! Dad fell asleep; I half-watched another L&O, and a so-so 2020 version of Blithe Spirit while updating finances (creating Excel files for next year) and cancelling a few subscriptions (Hulu, etc.; also paused Mubi). Eventually wrote in poetry notebook. Not sure when I went to sleep.

11.25.21

Up 6 but went back to bed, really got up at 10. Breakfast, coffee. Gave dad his present — an 1918 edition of some Theodore Dreiser stories, and a recent book about Ben Hecht’s screenwriting career. Gave Loretta a card w/ B&N gift-card, as she’s constantly reading romances. Also have one for Margaret.
Talked to Bree again for Christmas, changed my ticket to France for a few days earlier while we were “together.”
Played a little Xmas set at the piano - “The Christmas Song,” “I’ll Be Home…,” “The Christmas Waltz” (which was my mom’s favorite), “Winter Wonderland,” “Silent Night,” “Christmastime is Here.” That was enough. Trying to incorporate some Barry Harris ideas into the harmonization, but I should sit down and figure out the right substitutions for the changes, rather than doing what I can on the fly.
Read 15 p. Middlemarch. 2-3 chapters/day seems about right. Matt Hauser called - he’d actually meant to text me a picture and phoned by mistake, but I called back and we caught up.
Ate dinner w/ my dad - we were going to order in, but couldn’t get what we wanted. We had a couple of steaks in the fridge as plan B, and I made some zucchini - had to borrow an onion from Maude, the caregiver on duty, who sometimes fixes her own food here.
Jeopardy! per usual.
25 more p. Brooks, on Zora Neale Hurston. Page in poetry notebook.
Pretty quiescent after 9 - didn’t feel like getting involved in a movie.
Lights out 11:30. Not what you would call a magical Christmas.