Pop left yesterday for another weekend with Kay. I got a little excited, and I planned on dropping a few bucks to rent "The Dawn of the Planet of the Apes" on Amazon. However, since I had some trouble watching Spacey's "House of Cards" on Netflix over lunch, I decided to make sure nothing was wrong before ordering the movie online. My cautiousness served me well here, because movies from Netflix and Amazon just won't play. Of course, I could have watched the movie on Pop's computer, but Pop's new TV has spoiled me. Except for porn, movies and TV shows no longer seem worth watching on a computer screen, especially if you are going to pay more money to watch them. I now need that full high-definition effect. When it comes to porn videos, on the other hand, a little less clarity might not be such a bad thing.
It is amazing how fast one comes to depend on our new toys with their new technology. I was in agony. I planned on heating up some frozen pizza and enjoying a good movie - a veritable party, Monk-style. I tried hard to fix it. I looked through the manual and thought I was on the right trail about downloading software, but there was nothing there. I ate up more than an hour in these desperate pursuits, even reading through forums online. Even now, as I write this, I try some new tactics ... well, fuck me! You mean I just needed to unplug the TV for a minute!? It is such a basic move, too. I did unplug the computer modem last night. I know the idea of unplugging the set came to mind as well, and I cannot think why I did not give that a try. It is such a basic move. My only excuse is that I was locked on a couple of theories about what was wrong - that it was Time-Warner, our ISP, wanting a bigger cut for smart TVs, or that we needed to download some firmware that I was reading about - and the obvious move got crowded out of my easily overworked mind. I guess I needed the clear light of morning to see and grasp the possibility anew.
About this being the morning, I decided to switch my journaling time to the more fertile mornings. It is a switch, though. I am not adding an extra time-slot for this navel-gazing. I just figured, so long as I am writing this, why not let it have my better hours. Though, this morning, I was disheartened to find that I was not feeling all that much more sparky than I do in the afternoon when I am groggy from my nap. Have I lost my morning advantage in my old age? Maybe I have lost some of it. I was able to fix the TV this morning, right? There still might be an advantage in the morning, just not as much as there used to be, and it is not like I was ever great, no matter what time of the day or night. A decent novel or any real poetry was never going to come out of it.
One concern I have about writing in the morning is that the exercise may tend to eat up all of my morning, as it has today. For now, at least, I am willing to live with that. These diary entries may be dull and pointless, but it is more personal, and since I am not accomplishing anything real anyway, maybe it is better to commune with my soul more, rather than simply get in more reading and quote-gathering. It is late in my life now. Maybe I can still make peace with myself and with the white world. And I can skip the occasional morning, maybe make it something like an every-other-day thing.
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