Sun’s up. Second independent thought to connect neurons
reminds me that there is a 7:00AM call.
Reach for the phone. It is 7:03. Fortunately it will not be a video call.
Meditation cannot be multitasked. Calisthenics, however . . . Mute.
Unmute, “Absolutely.” Mute.
Resume. Each rep is only a
thirty-second commitment of planks and lunges and pushups. “We should explain this in more detail . . .”
Jumping jacks. The blunt, binary punch
to mute and unmute, an evocation of something teenage, like Asteroids.
Language study can be multitasked. At the gym I crank Hendrix and study
Chinese. My flash card app has me in a
five thousand-card test tally. When I
decode a difficult one correctly a sink my finger down into the “correct” check-tab
with a Hendrix-like flourish. Buddy
Miles has a muscular steadiness that makes me push harder on the pedals. Next card.
Wrong.
Reading cannot be multitasked. Expense reports? Certainly the chopping of vegetables, this is
navigable. They’ll be home by 6:00PM. Thirty minutes in now to the 5:00PM
call. Mute. Strainer, chopping
block, can opener. “Hello? I’m not sure if the connection is working . .
.” Reception cuts-out by the refrigerator.
Unmute “No. I think it’s on my end . . . This is better,
right?” Mute. I’ll need to cut on
the table, over there, closer to the WiFi.
I’ve done all I can legitimize trying to do, during this call. Focus.
We’re over the hour now.
A few dishes. Fish,
again, but the party it was intended for is eating at a friend’s this
evening. “Try the kidney beans. Try them.”
“This is all for her. What’s here
for me?” “Come on. Try it.”
I haven’t read Salman Rushdie in years. I read “The Jaguar Smile” yesterday. He writes well and he is enjoyable to
consider revolutionary Nicaragua along side of.
He holds freedom of expression above all else. This is his lightening rod. I understand.
I will hold off now before beginning a third book on the country, though
I have others I could pull down and am tempted to reach for.
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