Sun nuzzled us through thinning clouds at 7:17 AM, inviting us to ogle a deep blue sky. Temperatures were hovering in the low forties. Will get up to the mid sixties. But the air is clear and fresh. Leaves are turning colors more rapidly, dropping from trees with alacrity, affecting trees with empty branch syndrome. Sunset on this Saturday, October 9, 2021, will be at 6:39 PM.
I found myself with David Bowie’s song, “Sound and Vision” (1977) in the mental morning music stream. All because of the blinds. The blinds were closed, as we do every night. Renders the house tres dark. Seeing it, I thought, “Pale blinds drawn all day, nothing to read, nothing to say.” Which is a line from the song. Realizing that some song line had randomly dropped into my head, I had to drop a dime to the gods of recall. Success came as more song sputtered in, followed at last by the salient details of artist and year. Had to verify the year, though, via Wikipedia. Was tenuous to me.
First time I ever heard the song, it made me impatient. Like, this is boring. When will he start singing? But I think, retrospectively, that’s what it’s all about. Waiting. Killing time. Especially, if, I imagine, you’ve just gone through some issues, as Bowie had before writing this song. Not my favorite Bowie song — like most music, it depends on my mood — but it still interests me. Plus I like his voice. Cool voice. Much better than the gruff sound that emanates from my coffee hole.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, and get the vax, yeah? Here’s my coffee. Here’s the music. Enjoy. Cheers
Wife and I were staying in a huge hotel. We were up high, although I don’t know the floor. Red and gold were the only colors used, except for white marble floors in the hallways, which were tall — about two stories — and twenty feet wide. Walls were gold. Lots of tall, gold-framed mirrors and windows. Carpet, drapes, and furniture were red. Quite opulent. Because the place was so tall and sprawling, cafes and stores were on multiple levels.
Going into one upper-floor cafe, I encountered two young men in uniforms. I assumed they were military. Said as much. They issued me a dark, mocking look. One said, “We’re not military. We’re MOAB.” Like I was stupid.
I didn’t know what MOAB was. Assumed it was a quasi military-national guard or reserve situation. I left the two young men for a table. My wife joined me. I told her about my convo with the men. She was like, yeah, they’re MOAB, like everyone knows that. Then explained to me other people that she knew were MOAB, including two sons of our elderly friend. I was stunned that I was so ignorant.
She went off to the room with plans for me to come back to the room to go to a farmer’s market. I stayed, surfing the net and typing on my laptop. Two young men entered. About thirty years old, white. Both looked like Matthew Mcconaughey although their blonde hair was cut in different styles. I considered approaching them to tell them that I knew their mother and confirm they were MOAB but decided against it and left the cafe.
I then spent time roaming the hotel. Its center was an open atrium. You could look down the well and see all the floors, along with the lobby at the bottom. The fourth floor was where the hotel intersected with surface streets. Several of the hotel interior corners were intersections with traffic lights. That floor was also where the hotel mall was located.
I couldn’t figure out how to get from floor to floor, so I began hanging over rails and dropping down, or jumping from floor to floor. I was going to my hotel room to meet my wife but became sidetracked exploring. At one point, I was standing in an empty, carpeted area. I was surprised; it seemed to be the back of a restaurant in the hotel but the decor was different — white walls, low lights, umber carpeting. A shipment arrived for the restaurant. Men began picking up items and putting them away. One pile was off to one side. The manager, a tall, dark individual who appeared Asian glanced at me and said, “What are you doing? Let’s go. Get everything put away.”
I picked up the supplies and went around, trying to learn where everything goes. Another arrived and asked me what I was doing because that was his job. I explained that I was putting things away but first I needed to learn where they go. He took the supplies from me with a disdainful look and head shake.
I left there, sliding down a rail and then jumping off the end to another level. People witnessing this were impressed, loudly saying, did you see what he did? Stopping, I realized that I was late to meet my wife. I then saw her with two friends. They were on the fourth level and walking toward the friends’ car. I realized that she must have become tired of waiting and was leaving for the market.
I rushed to get down to the fourth floor but I was up on the sixteenth floor. I decided that jumping wasn’t going to work and raced about, trying to find elevators and escalators. Looking down, I saw their car pull into traffic and leave the hotel.
I thought that I needed to call my wife and tell her that I’d meet her at the market. Then I couldn’t find my phone.