Preparing for my Re-frenstration

Lunch with a former student.  He’s smart and ambitious, opinionated and he’s hooked on China and we have lots to talk about.  He’s back in Shanghai.  He’s found work.  He’s building his career here. I’m having the Greek salad with big hunks of feta and so is he.  I remember this time in one’s career and I am glad for him that he not only sees this as the place to build something for himself but that he’s managed to make it all work here so quickly.

How do you explain the U.S. right now to someone who isn’t from there?  Cautiously, apologetically, “remember, the glass is half full.”  People will organize and something stronger will come from it.”  And what of Brazil?  His country is in a bit of transition itself.  I get my update from him:  What’s happening now with Dilma and Lula and what does this mean for the country’s next election?  Both of us follow what’s at “home” closely.  Neither of us are especially involved, as we live over here.

I’m home when I said I’d be.  Maybe a bit earlier.  “Keep the change.”  Cabbie’s happy.  I open up the drawer where the last person out was supposed to put the key.  There is no key.  There are shoe polish containers and rags and baskets and an empty bottle but there are no keys.  No keys.  The door is definitely locked.  The cat is bellowing for me to come in and provide her with some tunafish.  The cabbie’s done his U-turn and is driving off.  I miss him suddenly.

Phone is now out of power.  Charge it on the computer.  I am stuck.  I am livid.  I stew.  The phone works after a time.  My wife doesn’t answer.  The maid doesn’t answer.  There is no key.  My wife doesn’t answer.  The maid does answer.  “Oh, your wife left after me.  She was home when I left.”  “I see.  OK.  Thank you.”  My wife doesn’t answer.  My wife answers.  “I’m in the middle of something.”  “I”M LOCKED OUT” I yell, louder than intended.  I wait and wait some more.  It’s not clear if my wife is coming or not. 

Eventually I walk around to my office window.  As hoped it is unlocked.  I slid the window back and began removing books, preparing for my re-fenestration.  Thinking of Dr. Henry Luis Gates and all other people who have been wrongly accused of breaking in to their own house, I take an obligatory look around once and twice to see if anyone is looking my way.  Coast is clear.  Up on the chair and in through the opening.  Books fall, of course.  But I’m in.  The cat is very happy to see me inside now. 

Tuesday, 03/07/16