Sunday, June 26, 2016

For Jill, while at the beach by myself

I just "unfriended" my first Donald Trump supporter for telling me I "drank the cool-aid" and "must be pro-death."  She used a lot of "U" instead of "you" which was probably reason enough for the unfriending, nevermind the scary political rhetoric.  She'd been the only person in my list of social media friends who has been actively posting pro-Trump stuff, and I'd kept her around out of curiosity.  But then James Dobson went and said that Trump "got saved" and that we should all pray for him, and I pointed out on a mutual friend's post about this that it's funny how no mention was made of praying for Clinton or Sanders and how convenient was the timing of this newfound rebirth.  So I have indeed drunk the cool-ade of rational thought.

This condo is 1970's creeptastic with olive-colored kitchen counters and a smell of disinfectant.  Not many people seem to be here, but somewhere nearby there is the thumping of a kid's footsteps, which may not bode well for insonmiac me.

I wish I had my dog here.  Neskowin seems to be the sort of beach that folks don't mind if they're off leash.  As a matter of fact, a little terrier is running along the stream outside the balcony.

My friend Susan is on a writer's retreat currently in California, and I might feel the same if I had anything to say besides a recording of this balcony.

Fresh cherry pits spit off the balcony, a cup of Irish tea with sugar and cream, good wi-fi, a charge to my phone, cheese and crackers and a glass of wine for later, a memoir of a childhood in Prague, and the question of a solo hike.  I don't miss my family yet, but I've only been here an hour.  The shadow of clouds moving across the sand and the barking of a dog.

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