Tread lightly, lest ye be fictionalized?

My friend Ian came out to the city yesterday. We don't see each other as much as we'd like these days, since the dissolution of the band.

Ian is very supportive of my decision to make a legitimate stab at writing. As though to prove this, he brought me a tardy Xmas present (shown at right), a wonderful t-shirt that made me laugh aloud when I opened it.

Although I suppose it doesn't really matter how careful one is. I'll still likely put elements of most everybody I know into my novels. I have to, as I am not particularly clever.

I informed him that I don't know if I could ever wear this shirt in public. He wasn't offended. He knows I'm almost never in public.

We talked about my writing and his school for a bit at the beginning. I think we find it a bit more difficult to talk in general these days. So we tend to spend a bit more time than we might otherwise talking about the large things in our forebrains.

Later on, though, we started talking about music, and everything felt fine at that point. He's a super-cool music geek like me, and we can usually fill some time talking about albums we think the other might like. It's a nice way to spackle in the holes where we used to have our own music to chatter endlessly about.

Yes, that's right: music geeks are super-cool.

Most of the rest of my weekend was spent working. Well, that and apparently ignoring the comments that were piling up on my last post. Some of them asked me specific questions, and I know when I ask someone a question on their blog and it takes them two days to reply I am usually no longer quite so curious. So I apologize. It was just work, I promise.

I wasn't off with another blog or anything.

Went out to the car yesterday and discovered that someone had punched in my passenger-side door lock. Why a rusty station-wagon which (if a human) would be in junior high should attract so much attention, I don't know. Nothing was missing. My best guess is that someone was practicing their break-in skills on the car that never goes anywhere.

Finally turned the cable on again this evening to catch yet another installment in the disappointing current season of The Simpsons. Then I put on some music to get back to work. So far, I'm a little impressed by how tempting the new cable tv thing isn't. But if I'm hardly ever gonna watch it, is it worth the money? Time will tell, I suppose.

Doot doot doot

I am waiting for my cable installation professional. I imagine he's going to offer to hook me up with some extraordinary package on the QT. The ethical dilemma this might present is blunted somewhat by the knowledge that I have no money at all right now with which to bribe him.

Having a bit of trouble getting paid for some work I did recently. I have a history with the client, so I'm not worried they're gonna stiff me, but it's agonizing nonetheless. I still haven't been able to do much of my Xmas shopping, and the smart money says I shouldn't bother starting anytime soon.

I saw a guy on Letterman last night, Wes Autrey. He had risked his life to save a stranger in the subway, hoping at first to pull the man to safety off of the tracks, and then deciding that he didn't have time and throwing himself on top of the man to hold him still as the train moved over the both of them. He told his story well, and touched on something when he pointed out that the first time the man had needed help, there were some 80 people on the platform, and yet only 3 of them stopped to offer assistance.

I'm sure this is old news to most of you, but I keep thinking about it. If the gap between the track and the train were just a couple of inches off, Mr. Autrey would almost certainly have been killed right there in front of his children. And my thought is still mostly about why the 77 other people on the platform ignored the events taking place and rushed off to work. I'm sure there are people all over New York who are saying "Oh, yeah. I was there in the subway. I saw that guy," thinking of the proximity to fame that they had and not about how they ignored someone who needed help.

He said that the main thing that had gone poorly for him in all this was that his hat got dirty. I wish I could send him a new hat.

I imagine the news outlets are going somewhat overboard with their coverage of this event. Can you blame them? Not only is this story not about a celebrity breakup, a war, bitterly divided political or religious factions: it's a great story with a positive outcome. They don't get many of those these days.

Anyway, enough about all that.

My novel is still in the region of Nowhere. I have to figure out the initial expository/introductory text and then I imagine things'll start to chug along. I know the plot well enough, I'm just having some trouble with the tone I want to establish.

I am getting cable

Well, technically I already have cable, but only internet. Starting Friday, though, I'll have access to all sorts of crap.

The deal basically costs a little more than I'm paying right now for their internet access, bumps up my connection speed, and gives me the "enhanced digital" television package, whatever that means.

It comes with something called "Comcast On Demand," which I choose to believe means I can watch any episode of any program ever, whenever I choose to watch it. I believe these things because I enjoy being crestfallen.

There's no contract involved, so I can ditch the cable if I want and keep the boost to my internet speed, which is more or less why I agreed to the thing in the first place. Been years since I had cable, though. Maybe I'll enjoy it.

I have visions of myself entering my living room on a crisp morning, a fresh mug of coffee in my hand, intending to watch the Senate debating on C-Span. Even in the vision, though, I get distracted by a marathon of Tic Tac Dough episodes from the late 70s. I sure hope they're not giving me the Game Show Network.

I rearranged the furniture in my office this weekend , and realized while I was writing this post that I can easily see the television in the living room while sitting at my desk. That's probably not a great sign either.