Spent the afternoon and evening at the Fireside. I did some critique and some editing, then dug back into “In the Forests of the Night.” 1,700 new words, which was less than I’d hoped but still reasonable. Clearly I’m not writing as fast as I used to pre-op, but the prose seems to be holding up, so I’m going to accept it and keep moving forward. And I’m very glad to be back in the saddle. There will be more writing time tomorrow.
While I was there, my phone rang. It was an Obama fundraiser, pitching me to donate more money. Which I’d planned to do, until his FISA vote. And I told her that I would support him with my vote but not my money, not until he explained his switch on FISA and why he went directly opposite the positions he’d taken in the primary. I mean, if I wanted centrism I’d have supported Hillary. If I wanted amoral opportunism, I’d be a Republican. Obama’s run to the center is not losing him my vote, but it’s sapping my enthusiasm. And quite frankly, given the right’s track record of late, I don’t think he needs the center. Holding firm on his principles and explaining why he voted against a bill which primarily serves to retroactively legalize wholesale domestic spying by the Bush White House would have been a much stronger stance. The woman on the phone became very weary-sounding when I explained myself, thanked me and hung up. I suspect she’s heard that a lot.
On the healthcare front, I was back with my colo-rectal surgeon today, discussing my digestive hijinks of the past four weeks. Apparently I’ve contracted an opportunistic infection in my lower GI as an indirect result of the surgery, and these bad bugs have overwhelmed the good bugs. I’m on a 14-day course of targeted antibiotics, and under strong recommendation to consume as much probiotics as possible while doing it. I suspect the cure will be every bit as bad as the disease, but at least I have an end game now. As opposed to, say, a toilet-based lifestyle.
One last note: When I returned from California on Sunday, I walked into my house to find the_child watching Seven Brides For Seven Brothers. I’m still tangled up in the societal messaging she’s received from that movie, and why a ten-year-old would ask her mother to rent it in the first place. My kid…
Originally published at jlake.com. You can comment here or there.