The laundromat is, and can be, a magical place. The one that we use on a regular basis is in quite the precarious location. It' s settled right smack between and popular sandwich depot and our favorite dive bar. Not to mention the hair salon that time forgot right next door. Peering into it, you are immediately transported back to 1974; décor and products frozen in wood paneling and aerosol bliss.
There is also a rather large grocery store, Food City, across the street, one that panders to a Latino crowd, pumping in tejano music with walls of salsas and beans and the best produce section this side of any fancy-shmancy upscale food boutique. So my laundromat is sort of the United Nations of coin-op wash 'n drys. Today was no exception. A rather stout Latino man was talking about doing acid “back in the day” with an elderly white guy who looked like he just stepped off the set of a “Bonanza” episode. Not to mention the handsome Senegalese family, with the women draped in decorative wraps and the dudes donning lil caps, laughing and playing with their daughter, who was the cutest little girl, on the folding tables. All the while as malt shop tunes from the 50s cooed slightly through the speakers. Sometimes life can be beyond bitchin'.
Plus it was a beautiful day. Temps in the 70s, a bit breezy, but the sun was out and fluffy clouds glided across the sky. Funny, because the usual calm of my weekdays off was marred by kids playing in backyards. What the...? Why are kids home from school so early? When I made my lunch I turned on the TV to see that all local channels were covering the big rodeo parade going on here in Tucson. Of course, I remembered, Rodeo Days here in T town is considered a “holiday”, like schools and businesses close, giving some a 4 day weekend. Really? To watch dudes rope and wrestle cattle to the ground then bind their feet? Wow. Gotta love Tucson yo. It is my belief that you should love and fear the town you live in with equal aplomb. I did it for 12 years in San Francisco: Loved it, one of the greatest cities in the world but was mortally terrified on a regular basis. Same goes for here: Cheap rent, great food, good people but I fear for my life every time I step outside my door.
Is that weird? Am I a weirdo?
Anyway, amongst all the colors of the rainbow down at the laundrette, the sky beaming with early spring promise and my current city celebrating its heritage, I would come home, sit down and have to deal with a very dark place. The place I am at in the book is not a very happy one. It took me all day but I pretty much got through it. Its the one section that's really sad and kinda gory. Not like “gory” in the typical sense, I mean, this is me and this is a “kids book”, but still, I typed with heavy fingers and would have to get up and mess around in the garden now and then. A woodpecker bopped his head right above me. The smell of hyacinth filled the air. Then I'd go back in, sit down, look at the screen and sigh. Those poor, poor Turtles...
Needless to say I earned that first beer at 7pm. No new Netflix arrived to I opted for some bad TV (of course) which included that Smoking Gun series about worlds dumbest this and that. I must have watched about 2 or 3 episodes, all with like Todd Bridges, Leif Garret and Tonya Harding making comments. Very surreal. Did you know that Leif Garret was arrested for not only drug possession but for PROSTITUTION? Yeah, ol Leif was whoring himself recently for heroin. Oh how the mighty in once feathered hair and skin tight white jeans have fallen...
Lets recap, shall we!
Food: Breakfast – pineapple, banana, OJ with yogurt smoothie. Lunch – leftover fajitas. Snack – small veggie sandwich. Dinner – grilled mushroom with red jalapeno pepper burger and oven baked wedge fries.
Booze: A few beers.
Movies: None. Netflix has been kind of lagging lately.
Mood: Productive. The usual on my days off.
# of pages written: Dozen or so.
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