I finished Red Pill by Hari Kunzru last night. I started a blog post about it earlier but decided it was too convoluted and the whole thing would benefit from a bit more pondering. I enjoyed this book and will probably write about here soon.

Scheherazade by Rimsky-Korsakov was the music I played for this morning’s routine. In its entirety. I have known this piece so long that I wonder if we had a recording of it when we lived in Greeneville Tennessee prior to 1963.

My BP is still low and I may have actually dropped another pound in weight. But my body rash is rampant. I didn’t mention it yesterday in the preparatory meeting at my eye doctor for my upcoming cataract surgery. That went fine. They didn’t even give me eye drops to dilate my eyes for which I was grateful.

Eileen did the grocery shopping after dropping me off at the eye guy. I am doing very little driving unless it’s necessary. The plan is to put new lenses in my eyes that will help me see better up close and see better far away with glasses. This is the opposite of what most people go for according to the eye guy. But I think it’s the best choice for me.

I have to put eye drops in my eyes during this process. We’ll probably stop off at the drugstore and buy them today. The two eyes are done in two settings. The timing for the extensive use of eye drops morning and evening will vary for each eye. The eye guy has a handy dandy chart he gave me to help me negotiate this. First surgery scheduled for Wednesday, Oct. 13, the second the following Wednesday, the 20th.

There are a series of follow up appointments thereafter to monitor recovery.

I helped Eileen do some final mounting of doors on our new wardrobe yesterday. She got on the phone and contacted the manufacturers about the missing board. There was one board missing from the construction of one of the two drawers. Apparently they will be sending us one free of charge.

I also have a new book shelf for my study thanks to the efforts of my lovely wife. She bid on several of these and won one. It’s sitting in the study right now waiting for me to decide where it goes.

I restored a small bit of confidence in my hands yesterday going slowly and accurately through some Mendelssohn and Beethoven. My friend Rhonda has invited me to play some piano duets with her Friday. This time since she has two pianos in her choir room at her church we will probably sit at a distance and play two pianos instead of one piano, four hands.

I mentioned to her my diminishing physical abilities. She texted me “use it or lose it.” A fine attitude. However I have been “using” my hands assiduously all my adult life. I don’t think this is going to get better through exercise and surgery seems to be an extreme solution. This is according to a physician I consulted early after I was finally diagnosed with dupuytren’s contracture not so long ago. He only recommended surgery when the “risk was worth it.” He definitely did not recommend it to preserve my ability to play music about which I asked him in detail. The “risk” in his recommendation is worth it to restore a much more severely affected hand in order to get some minimal use restored. I can use my hands. They just don’t stretch like they used to.

I still enjoy playing and will probably do so as long as I can. .

The Lie About the Supreme Court Everyone Pretends to Believe – The Atlantic

This article by Adam Server is probably part of my echo chamber, but I’m glad to read this in print.

“What I take exception to is the demand from judges and justices that the public acquiesce to their self-delusion that they are wise sages who hold themselves above the vulgarities of partisan politics, even as they deliver sweeping victories to a conservative movement and Republican Party that have worked for half a century to achieve those victories.”

China celebrates Meng Wanzhou’s return as a victory — even at th –

My son-in-law, Jeremy, is quoted in this. Cool.

It’s still dark outside. I usually wait until sunrise to put out my US flag. It’s the latent boy/cub scout in me. Flag etiquette, emphasis on etiquette.

I have an eye appointment this morning so they can do preliminary measurements for my upcoming cataract surgery next month. We need to leave at 8:15 to get there 15 minutes early. Eileen has asked me to call her at 7:30 which is in a few minutes.

I thought I would try to get some blogging in before that.

There are two silly things on my mind this morning.

The first is the dream I had last night. In it, I was bumming a ride from a family. For some reason, it meant that they would have to have me at their evening meal. My house wasn’t too far away but they didn’t seem to mind so I thought it would be nice to stay for supper.

At first they didn’t mind. But soon I understood that it was okay maybe this once that I bummed a ride and would stay for supper but it wasn’t to become a habit.

Then the Dad came home. In my dream he looked like an actual person I know but wasn’t exactly that guy. He was also a bit dismayed that I had taken advantage of their good will and not only bummed a ride but also was going to stay for dinner.

The dismay of the whole group was only gradually becoming apparent to me. I decided that it would be better if I simply walked home from their house and skipped the meal. I wasn’t upset. I could see that they didn’t really want me to stay so I thought it would be more appropriate if I just walked away.

I woke up thinking about being welcome. In my dream I certainly didn’t feel welcome. But this was only distressing because of the situation I was in not as a sense of rejection. In fact, I felt very independent in the dream and not reliant at all on being accepted.

I don’t know if I’m quite conveying the whole emotional envelope of the dream but it is quite clear to me. My presence which I thought might be not only acceptable but a good thing was complicating things in a way I hadn’t anticipated. Time to get dressed and walk away.

Many of you armchair shrinks out there have already probably come to the obvious conclusion that this is related to me being in my fourth week of retirement. But funnily enough I didn’t leave my job feeling unwelcome. In fact I felt the opposite feeling of letting people down in order to take care of myself.

So I’m not sure what the dream has to teach me.

The other thing I wanted to blog about was discovering the quirks and mistakes in podcast advertising. I listen regularly to the podcast Into the Zone. Hari Kunzru is a classic outsider with a lovely little hint of his English Indian background in his speaking voice. I noticed that the State Farm spokesman in the accompanying ad had a similar accent. Later I noticed the insistent ads for African American podcasts. It feels quite intentional.

Then this morning I was laying in bed trying to get a valuable extra hour of sleep and I noticed that the ads on the old podcast I was listening to started getting garbled. One ad would begin and then before it was done another new ad started, one I hadn’t heard before and obviously came way after the podcast I was listening to. It had been inserted and began before the first ad finished. Then abruptly the old ad returned for a second and then a word from the new ad blurped. The rest of ad section of this podcast was equally convoluted. Damn. It was so funny that there was no getting back to sleep for Jupe.