It is Friday afternoon, and I am listening to the Mountain Goats sing, "I did not come to play handball."
It is a gorgeous, crisp, sunny day. My friend, the debate coach, is driving to Vermont this afternoon with a minivan full of college students.
I would rather not work on my tenure paperwork. My friend, the professor, told me that the paperwork and form-filing that occupies a first year prof would be sort of overwhelming. Oh, yes indeedy. Paperwork makes me anxious.
"You're Just Somebody that I used to Know" by Elliot Smith is playing.
Last night, I went to see the New York Philharmonic play Tchaikovsky. It was sublime. The tone of instruments together felt like part of my skin. All those people who talk about how difficult it is to language the sublime--not just whistling dixie.
After the Tchaikovsky, it was also difficult to emerge into a crowded New York street and ride a hot, overcrowded subway. But, in the end, I didn't mind so much. I like opposites and contradictions.
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