Today is the day -- hot, beautiful, certainly rare for the summer we've had -- when a person would be wise to set aside whatever noble plans he might have had and just get in step with the casual torpor, the cheerful, guilt-free sluggishness. I would have sat on my steps all afternoon drinking beer and wine and smoking cigarettes, had there been more wine or any beer, and had my partners in crime not been bound for the lake. "Thank you, no," I said (fool that I am), "I must work." Now they're gone, no doubt already floating on their backs in the deeper, cooler water just beyond the ropes of the sanctioned swimming area (because my friends are, of course, incorrigible and unrepentant rebels), and here I sit, frozen in the headlights of the chapter that refuses to be written, and having missed my chance to jump in the lake, I'm accepting the compromise of composing  a blog entry. Life is full of tradeoffs.

Before I forget, I want to mention that I've posted links to some of my friends' blogs. This is by no means comprehensive, they were just the first handful of friends' blogs that came to mind, I know there are others I'm not thinking of, and I'll post them as they come back to me. I think you get to the links by clicking on the button that lets you view my profile. Please take a look, I have friends who are doing some very cool things. Sarah is training for a marathon. Joel is a journalist who picked up and moved to India. Dave and Virginia own a CSA called Sunwater Farm. Jess joined the Peace Corps and is stationed in Mali. Check out their stories.

The iPod is on shuffle right now and I have to say, it's putting out a pretty damned good (but also odd) playlist. Old 97's "Singular Girl." Kevin Seconds, "Motherfuckers." Stealers Wheel, "Stuck in the Middle." The Buzzcocks, "Orgasm Addict." The Replacements, "I Will Dare." Two train-related songs in a row: the Cure, "Jumping Someone Else's Train" and "Train in Vain" by the Clash. What's my iPod trying to tell me? Should I buy a train ticket? Or just hop a freight train? Weird, man. Oh, shit, now it's "Come Away With Me" by Norah Jones. What the fuck, man. I'm tempted to take it off shuffle, but I'm afraid to mess with it -- it seems to know things. I guess this is what happens when you don't go to the lake but stay home instead under the pretense of working. Actually, that's not fair -- there was no pretense, I'm here to work. And work I will, just as soon as I finish this.

Ah, Death Cab for Cutie. Perfect. It'll all be okay now. Oh, yeah, and now Graham Parker, "The Three-Martini Lunch." If you don't know Graham Parker, you should. He had a band back in the early 80's called the Rumour, but some of his best stuff he did solo. He put out an album in, I think, 1989, called "Live! Alone in America," acoustic stuff. Tremendously good. The song I just mentioned, plus "Hotel Chambermaid" ("Okay, here's a number everybody shouts for when I've got a band with me and I never do it, and I'm gonna do it right now..."), "Durban Poison," "Watch the Moon Go Down," "Black Honey." Probably his best-known song is "Get Started (Start a Fire)" from the album "The Mona Lisa's Sister," which starts "The Mona Lisa's sister doesn't smile/She tried to pose but only for a while./Leonardo sent her home/Since then she has lived alone/With her few belongings and a copy/Of a painting of herself unhappy/She is going to burn it/When she's ready." Give him a listen.

So don't get me wrong, I don't believe in signs, not even when my iPod appears to be trying to steer my life -- it is tempting to follow the iPod's guidance, it's a little genius as far as I'm concerned. I'm a big fan of Apple's products (I love my Macs, love the iPod, would probably love an iPhone if not for the fact that I'd already fallen in love with a little thing called the Blackberry, and I'm nothing if not fiercely loyal to what and whom I love), but I still don't believe in signs, even when they seem to be coming from my most trusted and beloved home electronics. I'm much more interested in coincidence as curiosity. I don't ask what it means. Train in Vain? Jumping Someone Else's Train? Norah fucking Jones? {Note: here is roughly the point where I had to pause for what turned out to be the rest of Sunday night, and I'm picking up again Monday morning a little before 7 a.m.} Not even a remarkably lifeless acoustic version of "Don't Stand So Close to Me" (a song I appreciate in its original and tolerate when Sting crapped it out solo some years later for "The Coffee House") means what the fertile imagination would like to believe it means. Coincidence. Curiosity. And I dig that.

Okay, that's all for now, I just woke up, need a shower and some coffee, maybe a muffin. I'll finish this thought later. Go get something done. Some work or something.