cheech

It was actually a pretty boring hurricane... which is fine with me. Around Northern VA, and DC, there is much more likely to be flooding damage post-storm than anything else.
I've heard much stronger gusts of wind on sunny days, living in a high-rise, and while there are many leaves and small debris all over, there aren't too many large branches or trees over. I'm sure the trees that did fall over took out a few power lines...

I spent last night at my parents'. The power never went out for good until after I went to sleep. At some point in the late morning it came back on, but the sun was shining from the time I got up, so I was reading by sunlight all the while.

I was re-reading a lot of Jim Bouton's stuff. Bouton was a baseball pitcher who wrote a book, Ball Four, about the real/ stupid/ funny/ odd sides of baseball, such as the use of amphetamines and players sneaking up on hotel roofs to peep at women/couples (a practice that most of the Yankees, including Mickey Mantle, did regularly). He got in a lot of trouble for it with coaches, owners, writers, and the baseball commissioner Bowie Kuhn (who was a dick).

I also read some more Gordon Legge stories, from Near Neighbours. While reading "Shafting Auntie Catherine," it occurred to me that some of his stories are kinda repetitive in themes and overly-silly, but he has some greats, like "Pop Life," which is compiled in the book Children of Albion Rovers, which has good stories by Laura Hird, Irvine Welsh, and Alan Warner's (in my mind) best work.

I re-read a bit of The Lone Pilgrim, the story of "Delia's Father," a French-Resistance fighter/ Beat/ writer who the teenage protagonist is infatuated with, as he's much cooler than the golf-playing dad's of the town. He's an Adrien Brodie type, twinkly eyes, foreign cigarettes, a sexed-up mystery dynamo.

This weekend, I'd like to see Lost in Translation. I hear Mr. Murray's good in it; that's enough for me.