Joy in the Silence, and afterwards a ride from a teacher, one of the attenders, to the beach. Walking along it long and empty enough that I filled up, went onto the pier and into Bubba Gump, arguably the worst name in the West, but a strangely comforting setting. Had a window table as the sky filled, emptied, and tables of happy people ate shrimp and played Trivia questions from Forrest Gump.
Made a few friends, and then went walking along the shorefront trying to find the little hotel I stayed in once. It was disappointing, so started walking back towards the pier and was caught in a much needed rain-- not by me, but the land-- found-- well, here it is, in a poem.
I walked by the beach
Stepped by the sea
Found a stoop to sit on
That protected me
Had the bounce of a frog
The will of a lion
Played with a dog
Made a little girl stop cryin'.
Not the best poem in the world, but it made me happy to be both cool in the traditional sense, and creative. Then as it became a downpour, I picked up a young couple of lovers, actors of course. We became friendish, and they took me home. Not a bad day.
I really should be living at the beach; we'll see what happens. Jamie came by this morning before leaving for New Orleans to do a TV series, and she will send me a list of places, being the organized and thorough woman she is in addition to generous and gifted.
It had been my hope to write something wonderful before I left the planet, and Betty Srere, my loved friend from Bryn Mawr who comes here in winter, says I will,-- she is very smart, so we'll hope do. But this has been less than pleasant and productive as well as expensive, so we'll see if the Graces have a plan.