She looked me overThe odd thing is this, because the Doc half-flirting is nothing new: for some reason I do not understand, a chill sometimes runs down my spine when I meet a young woman, and it usually means that she will, relationally or otherwise, prove relevant to me in some way or another. I had that feeling, that specific chill, tonight. I do not know why, nor do I know what may yet come; sometimes those chills are of personal relevance rather than romantic or physical. This (instinct?) has never proven wrong yet, so now I'm wondering. Something in my bones says there's something ultimately amiss about this, but (alas) I'm also a veteran-- a master?-- of amiss relationships. But for some reason I'm possessed of a sense of Tiresian foreboding. One haws to wonder at what fate may be initiating, cruelly. Another warning to Caesar? ForSooth, forsooth.
And I guess she thought
I was all right
All right in a sort of a limited way
For an off-night
-- "I Know What I Know," from Graceland
As I have been writing this, Jenny adopts my side and my lap, so glad to have Daddy home. Jenny is loud, sometimes obnoxious, and nominated to eat anyone out of house and home; Jenny is also given to a devotion that is so sweetly remarkable because of its rarity, by which it means what it means, without caveats or conditions. There's beauty in that, a limpidity somewhere between Ogden Nash and Robert Frost.