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Monday, January 12, 2004 I have been so bad these last few days. Have not wanted to write. At all. And so I haven't. Balancing out my excessive chronicling of all the holiday hoo-ha, maybe, by doing a whole lot of very little. Which is something that happens with me: after a period of big activity, I sometimes need to balance it out with sloth, indolence, slack of the most genuine kind. Recharging my little batteries, I guess. Got myself out for some fresh air this afternoon, headed over to the area around la Plaza de España [see entry of Jan. 2]. Sky gray; air cool, a bit misty. After lunch on a work day, so not many people hanging about. A bunch of folks looking to be from South America clustered together, talking, by one of the two big fountains that bookend the Plaza's wide promenade. I settle onto one of the concrete benches. Two ten-or-so-year-old boys stroll by, one sporting a full daypack, both wearing puffy, waist-length winter jackets. A couple of pigeons make the mistake of hanging about in the boys' path, one of the little guys raises his arms, takes a run at the birds, going, "RAAAAAARRRRR!!" The two birds take off, the fatter one comes back to ground five or six feet away. Still in the boys' path, so that fatty has to walk faster and faster and faster to stay a safe distance ahead of the boys, head bobbing at ever increasing velocity, looking a little desperate. If the poor bugger had been in a comic book, it would have had a bunch of those funny little airborne drop-shaped ink thingies all around its head that indicate distress. The kid without the daypack starts grabbing at the back of the other kid's jacket, daypack boy pulling away, the two of them laughing. A few more attempts, then boy #1 succeeds in sticking a Post-It note on the back of boy #2's collar, a little square of blue paper with some words written in red ink. Maybe the local version of KICK ME, PLEASE! Honest to god, I love people. We're an endless source of entertainment and surprises, we humans. So much life going on inside each one of us, so many wonderfully goofy impulses. Wish I could have gotten a good look at that little Post-It. Ah, well. Maybe next time. rws 12:51 PM [+] |