'I'd never really noticed the sunset out here before.'
The old man stopped briefly to look back at the guy on the bench. His arms were stretched out along the back as he gazed
out over the water and into the setting sun. The old man desperately hoped he wasn't trying to start a conversation.
There wasn't anyone else around. He mumbled something under his breath and went back to work collecting the daily refuse
by the seaside.
'It's really quite something. You know, I drive by here every day and I never bothered to look out there. It's amazing
what you miss.' He paused. 'I used to think I didn't have the time to take something like this in. I just had to keep on
going and couldn't afford to bother with such unimportant things.'
A gust of wind blew up, sweeping his tie over his shoulder. He closed his eyes, letting the cool breeze blow across his
face. The old man was studiously ignoring him.
'Perspective, I suppose. It took quite a bit to shake me up -- make me notice what I was missing. By then it was too
late, of course. No point in dwelling on it, I suppose. I just have to get on with it. This time, though, I'm going to
take the time to notice things. Like sunsets.'
The wind picked up again. The old man had to struggle to keep his hat on. 'It's getting late,' he said, not looking at
the man on the bench.
I'm back. A fun weekend, but it accomplished nothing. My monkey even stopped eating and starved to death. Several times.
Good riddance.
I found a book to read, finally. I bought it last week and started reading it on the train. I had heard that Neal
Stephenson had vowed that The Big U
would never be reprinted. This made me kind of sad because I like Neal Stephenson (although I havnen't yet managed to
break page 50 of Cryptonomicon
and I thought the ending
of Diamond Age, when I finally
got around to it, was supremely disappointing. I don't know why I wanted to read it so badly. I just did.
After I managed to find and
read Kampus (It's back
in print?! Bizarre.), I had a bit of a yen for dystopic, university-based morality plays. The Big U in large part
reminds me of that book. The difference being that, while the characters in Kampus are more or less caricatures, I can
honestly and truly relate to the characters in the Big U (nearly 100 pages in). I'm a little nervous about it, though.
The Big U is hitting a little too close to home in spots. I point out one of those spots on one of my other pages. It's
making me recall things I'd otherwise forgotten. It's probably good, then, that I didn't find it while I was at
university, when I first went looking for it.
I'm not entirely sure why Neal Stephenson wanted The Big U buried. Maybe it was just a typical "everything I did before
yesterday sucks" artist attitude. But maybe, and here I am egotistical enough to think he might have shared the same
thought I've had for the last couple years, maybe some things are just meant to be left buried in the past. His
reluctance might account for the $22.50 price tag. Whatever the reason, I'm glad to have the chance to read it.
I'm home for the long weekend. I had something of an adventure getting here, missing the bus to Toronto because of a
power outage which caused me to miss my train. Being the holiday, my alternate trains were sold out, leaving one that
left just before midnight (leaving me with ten hours to waste in downtown Toronto), or a first class seat on a 17:30. I
went first class. (I have fun looking like a student but recklessly tossing money away. Not something I try to do often,
but it's fun nonetheless). This is a complete waste of money if you don't drink, by the way. The meal they serve was
okay, but certainly not worth the $60 premium. The (as far as I could tell) unlimited free booze might make up for it,
though.
Today we went to Kingston to visit my sister, console her for having to study for finals and take her out to lunch. It
was kind of fun. Afterwards, we took the Glenora Ferry over to Prince Edward County to have a look around craft shops
and things. I stopped by this great little chocolatier in Bloomfield and, on a whim, picked up some chocolate covered
candied ginger. Different, and quite good, I thought. My sister didn't like it much, though.
I love the County. I've gone there on camping trips and Sunday outings since before I can remember. It's got lots of
folksy, rural charm, with farms everywhere and (increasingly touristy) small towns. A little frayed around the edges in
spots, but I figure that adds to the charm, rather than detracting from it. Nature puts on a pretty good show too. It's
just... nice.
Ah, home. It's just so comfortable coming back here. Too comfortable, probably. I don't feel like doing anything.
Well, I can probably use the rest. I should do the rounds tomorrow, though—checking up on people and stuff. I'd really
like to find out how some folks are doing. Maybe I should have made this stay longer. My mom's mad at me for going back
Sunday. Through some miscommunication, she made plans for an Easter dinner out. I hate to disappointer her. My mother
cares a great deal about holidays and special occasions. Special times set aside, when the world is supposed to be as
near to perfect as it can be. She's not really tyrannical about it, but her disappointment is evident if things don't
work out.