Andare, Partire, Tornare ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- a blissful holiday. with hummus. Thank god for Cher and Persia. We all had a fun day out, escaping responsibilities, bad memories, and brooding by heading into DC (where we inadvertently bumped into the Taste of DC festivities) and being tourists for the day. The temperature was perfect, and the sky was blue blue blue. No breeze chilled us. We brought strawberries, melon, cheese, pita chips, and a really yummy and garlicy hummus to eat, perched around the Navy Memorial while an ersatz countryesque band played near us. Then we wandered through the National Gallery's sculpture garden and got drenched by falling spray, and had to keep Persia's dauther from wading out into the big splashy fountain. We went into the National Gallery for a potty run and a quick zip through some favorite paintings, had gelato, and then headed over to Natural History, where we oogled dinosaurs and the Hope Diamond before they threw us out. Back to Persia's house, then - for grilling and merriment. And no drearyness whatsoever. I'm home now, obviously - listening to Radio 13's Italy pop selection with the dog asleep on the sofa next to me, full of treats I smuggled home from the 'Mart. And I feel better, personally. I know, however, that Bemo doesn't. And I don't know how to help that. How do you help an almost-forty guy who apparently has an aura of freakiness that keeps other guys from befriending him? (I can only guess that it's the underlying issue of his manic-depression, even though it's well under control - sometimes I wonder if he misses social cues that he should get, although if he is, I'm missing most of them as well.) Maybe it's just the well-known dictum that, by and large, most musicians are assholes at heart, and this is just fallout from that. But aside from me, Bemo has nobody else. The Bemo I see should have so many friends that he'd need to hire a social planner. But apparently, I'm the only one privledged to see all the wonderful qualities about him that made me accept that half-strangled proposal of marriage almost six years ago. Enough, though. I can't mope. We'll just have to keep working through this. Sadly, a day like today is exactly what Bemo needed, and he had to work. I'll have to plan something that the two of us can do soon. 9:12 p.m. - 2003-10-13 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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