12.30.2008

On a walk in the park we see fuselage and tail of a commercial jetliner, moved chaotically by currents and gusts, severely close to the ground, with a team of engineers stationed on its surface to keep it from crashing by holding on to some improvised rigging. Clearly many have already died, and many more will soon. We keep walking.

12.28.2008

Started off innocent enough, but the end is not worth repeating.

12.27.2008

Inviting my grandma to a party across town but we can't get her past the door to her apartment. Later Rafe's new Slovenian girl explains the difference between commitment and a bicycle.

12.25.2008

A wall-to-wall collage of film festivals.

12.24.2008

Down the cliffside in a crowded Brazilian gondola, it occurs to me that flip-flops would have been a better choice than the rubber flippers I am wearing. Later, President-elect Will Smith leads us in battle against the insurgents.

12.08.2008

A black-hat Jew teaches me how to imitate the brass-band music emanating from a tiny, tinny Victrola.
A platform that sweeps me up into the grassy hills and out over the bay, where it deposits a narrow wooden buoy among the waves. So this is reality television.