Cloister Commentary, Day 192: Erratically Conscious

I set a personal professional record with seven consecutive tutorial sessions on Zoom yesterday. All my appointments showed up early and prepared, they demonstrated impressive knowledge of their chosen genre and film history, their essay ideas were fairly sound, and, in most cases, I was able to facilitate an obliterating of their compositional obstacles (also known as “helping them”). Perhaps the sessions were made more pleasant by my Zoom background, which was the actual cozy little residential section of West Walnut Street that backs my office window but looked almost computer-generated. Anything to distract from my COVID-forged grooming, which is indeed approaching the Jeff Bridges-esque.

Do you fall asleep sitting up, even while watching shows you love with people you love? Fear not–you are not alone. I believe this is a sign of simply being in the “second half” of life’s game. I had to “make up” a viewing of the third and fourth episode of Watchmen that I was erratically conscious for when Nicole and I originally watched it, but, I tell you what (do people say that in other regions?), that show is scintillating. Just scintillating. Worth watching twice even IF you were fully conscious for it!

I awakened this morning at 3:15 again, afraid I was living in a (bit more scarily defined) theocracy.

Streaming for Survivors:

Who’d-a thunk this ivory-pounder would indeed be one of the very last men standing? And did you know he kicks this album off with a Led Zeppelin cover?

Cloister Commentary, Day 147: Jai Alai 1985

The sun did come up yesterday and it is coming up today, albeit on a land where an election is being blatantly threatened with obstruction by one of the candidates. Freedom is a constant struggle, and I hope we’re up for it.

Compared to the day before, my attempts to complete important tasks were like as unto shooting fish in a barrel. Great customer service by four different reps for three different companies helped me resolve three important posthumous issues before 10:30 in the morning. I asked one of them if there was a way for me to give specific feedback to her supervisor and she put me right through to him. “Give her a raise or promote her,” I said, simply. I celebrated by trying two IPAs I’d not heard of (later, in the afternoon!) and getting caught up with my reading.

After the day before, they tasted like the nectar of the gods.

Nicole, Jane, and I played two rounds of Scrabble (my highlights were “dojo,” “wane,” and “radar”–not too stunning, eh?) after a dinner of turkey tetrazzini–it’s not just for post-Thanksgiving meals!–listened to some superb music (Lori McKenna, Bonnie Raitt, Ann Peebles, and Joni Mitchell), and watched the first two episodes of Last Tango in Halifax, which my mom had not seen and really enjoyed. You need a human show? Try it.

Streaming for Strivers:

A ludicrous cover photo, yes, but within is proof that the Ferriday Flash knew early American music like the back of his hand from his teens–and could rock and roll it all.