Jun. 1st, 2017

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Last night I had a modestly lucid dream. I felt myself able to "low-key" fly, to hover a bit above the ground. In the midst of the dream, as I hovered a few inches above the ground, I realized I was dreaming. I decided to take advantage of the flight. I caused myself to lift up a goodish way off the ground, in order to enjoy the flight. I gained a bit of altitude, when I stopped gaining altitude. I woke up in mid-air.

I'm quite busy at work. I like being quite busy, in general but not always in a specific situation. At lunch, I walked in Heritage Park in Sachse. The weather hinted rain but the hint remained a wordless glance, not quite followed-through.

I ate two slices of pepperoni buffet pizza, broccoli and carrots for lunch. On the way home, I stopped by Hoblitzelle Park in Plano to walk around. I'm continuing to read Faith Colburn's "Prairie Landscapes" at a clip of roughly 15 digital pages a day.

We'll see if I need to work all weekend. Tonight I ate a Smartpops popcorn cake flavored with sea salt. The president pulled out of the Paris Accord, which seems improvident to me. We watched a George Gently mystery after a dinner of ginger chicken and quinoa.

A PBS local TV station short is playing now discussing racism and segregation in Denton, Texas in the 1960s and early 1970s. I recall the fading but ever-present vestiges of segregation in my own childhood.  From grades 1 through 4, I attended schools which were substantially segregated, A few African-American children attended our school, under a system which permitted modest, cosmetic integration to mask the over-riding institutional segregation practiced by the school district. Full integration did not happen in my school until I reached fifth grade.
Until I was a teenager, the movie theater practiced "balcony segregation", in which African-American patrons had to enter by a different door and sit in the balcony.  Our local baseball teams were whites-only. Things changed for the better before I was 16, but 40 years later, it remains a slow process, not an accomplishment. When I first began to travel to Los Angeles for business, I was surprised by the effects of segregation and embedded racism in this area far removed from my native south.

As I drove to work today, I asked Google voice if it could play the Allman Brothers song "Ramblin' Man". My phone began playing a live recording of a different 1973 Allman Brothers song followed by a song called "ramblin' man" which was not the standard.

Maybe I should have asked for "Whippin' Post", but I might have gotten "whip it".

 I asked Google Voice if it could play "This Town Ain't Big Enough for Both of US', whereupon my phone played Sparks' "Marry Me" followed by Lene Lovich's "Lucky Number" followed by T. Rex's "Bang a Gong".  I noticed that the name of the station was "this town ain't big enough for both of us".




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