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Wednesday, January 21, 2004 Walking around the local streets these days, it's easy to pick up the impression that this city is undergoing an impressively relentless wave of colds, flu, and related messy respiratory events. Sneezing, coughing, hawking/spitting, noses being blown (a strange image, that, when one pauses to think about it). It's quite a display, and especially interesting, I think, given that the temperature here rarely falls below zero. Hardly qualifies as winter at all when compared with the more hard-core version being inflicted on the northern U.S. But as I've recently noted, all things are relative, so that kind of comparison doesn't really hold water. (Another strange image.) I go into this because during the last several days I've found myself among the ranks of the noise-makers. Several days that began in fairly severe manner, then morphed into a simple cold, more manageable, more pedestrian. And I've found myself smiling through much of it, enjoying the show going on around me in all its pomp and squalor, even with my body temperature soaring and falling unpredictably, even with my intestines too active, in too harrowing a way. Somehow, during the last ten years or so of my existence, I have come to enjoy this life of ours to the point that it takes a lot to shake me out of what has become a stubbornly persistent state of, well, er, enjoyment. Which is not to say that my days are free of details that hold the potential to annoy or irritate -- they're not. Though these days seem far freer of that kind of hoo-ha than they used to seem. And the current me seems to be a whole lot less concerned about appearing happy or nice than previous me's were. Combine that with a growing tendency to devote less mental time to details that annoy or irritate, the result is that the darker blips on my emotional radar screen appear and disappear more easily, are held onto and nurtured far less. But I digress, and in possibly obnoxious fashion. Sleep these last several calendar entries has been fitful, my energy during the daylight hours at times lower than normal. This morning, I had to drag myself out of a seductively warm bed to prepare for someone stopping by at the godawful hour of 8:30. I somehow managed a fair imitation of consciousness, produced decent enough Spanish to get myself through the interchange. After they'd gone I grabbed my gym bag, guided my half-comatose body out the door. Brisk air, morning light swelling in the eastern sky, Metro train filled with quiet people (apart from noises listed in the first paragraph above). Got to the gym, gently pushed my little bod through as much exercise as I could reasonably expect from it. Survived that, made it back outside, grabbed a newspaper, stopped in at a small nearby corner bar/coffee joint for the morning cup of espresso. A radio played in the background, a few neighborhood workers scattered around the small space drank café or coke, ate a sweet roll or some toast. I stood at the bar, leafing through the paper, sipping at a cup of strongly-flavored espresso. Finished up, thanked the barman, headed back out the door. And as I did -- people walking by in different directions, sunshine growing in strength and abundance, traffic on the main drag passing in normal fashion, one local taking a Westie terrier for walkies, the little dog contentedly intent on checking out the moment-to-moment world down at sidewalk level (things to smell, things to smell, more things to smell, pause to pee, things to smell) -- I experienced the click of me slipping suddenly into that wonderful, mysterious state of enjoyment. There's a lot happening in what many consider to be the 'news,' loads of political blather and activity -- last night's State of the Union speech; the Democratic dog and pony show skidding east from Iowa to New Hampshire; the campaign for the March elections lurching into motion here in Spain -- all of which feels peripheral to me. The main event? This day I'm in the middle of, here in this city I love -- sunlight pouring down, streets filled with activity, interesting people everywhere I look. Life going on all around. There's a croissant waiting to be polished off in the kitchen. There's Spanish to be studied, books to be read, class to go to this evening. Outside, a chorus of car horns sounds up now and then, letting the neighborhood know that someone's blocking one of the narrow streets, that a bunch of drivers aren't happy about it. The shafts of sunlight that extend into this flat gradually change shape and angle, slipping from one window to another as the hours move by. One more day, in all its mundane detail. Deceptively rich in every aspect. That's the news -- my version, anyway. Probably peripheral to most who stumble across this page. And that's okay by me. rws 7:26 AM [+] |