I attended the ceremonies surrounding the graduation of my nephew's senior class today.
My wife dropped me off at the Civic Center BART station. She did not attend the day's activities. About half of the way down I tripped and fell for the remainder of the escalator ride. It's amazing that I escaped with so few injuries. Unfortunately the fall had torn a hole in a brand new pair of cargo pants that my wife had ironed especially for this occasion. There are also blood stains near the tear where the wounds had bled through the fabric. I was shaken by the experience but regained my composure enough to continue my trip to Alameda.
Their house guest joined by my sister-in-law picked me up at BART. I told her what had happened in the BART station. They were both appalled. When we arrived at my brother's house I meekly asked for some needle and thread to at least sew up the rip in my pants. They would have none of that. First of all my sister-in-law examined my wounds and put Witch Hazel on them to clean and dis-infectant them. She then bandaged them with gauze and large swaths of paper tape. Then, in the blink of an eye, they managed to conjure up a new set of pants, socks, a belt and even a matching pair of shoes. So I was saved! I would not have to attend my nephew's graduation looking like a wounded drunk.
I must confess that I expected a long and boring trail of speakers followed by a similarly bored line of seniors to receive their diplomas. But it was really nothing of the sort. I admired all of the speakers and clung to their words as they spoke. The final award of diplomas was handed to the individiuals that comprised the artistic disciplines of the Oakland School of the Arts.
There was some performance, too. The members of the vocal arts division rendered the Star Spangled Banner so beautifully that it brought tears to my eyes. Later they would sing the Beatle's song, "I Need a Little Help from My Friends." That was equally heartwarming. At some point during the commencment a single person came out a played a drum. I was bored by this. He was later joined by a trumpet player who was quite gifted. The two played together and the drummer was much more bearable.
Of course all of the main administrators were there, at least it seemed so because a lot of men in suits came up and talked. They gushed about how wonderful the school was and had become since its inception eight years ago. This began to drone on for me. Interestingly, Governor Jerry Brown was there and spoke a few words. Otherwise he seemed equally bored by the whole talking part of the commencement as was I.
The diplomas were finally handed out. As I mentioned earlier, they were received according to the discipline they had majored in at the school. A lot of clapping and cheering went on in the audience. I missed seeing my nephew receive his diploma because I was fumbling with the camera on my telephone. The commencement ended when all of the graduates left the stage in single file towards the lobby where they could mingle with friends and family. Along with the hustle and jostle of the audience we left too and managed to stay together.
We returned to my brother's house at around 5:00PM. We all sat at the kitchen table where we had cheesecake with strawberry sauce. It was delicious. My sister-in-law sent home some of it with me. My brother wanted to wait for the traffic to die down before taking me home. So we hung out in their backyard sharing old war stories from the seventies and onward. It was quite a friendly and social affair. Finally, seven o'clock rolled around and I packed a bag with the psychyidelic projector my wife had lent them for the Cinco de Mayo party and the cheese cake that had been prepared for us. My sister-in-law was the one who drove to San Francisco while my brother rode shotgun. I sat in the back.
So here I am. My wife had prepared lasagne for dinner and only needed to warm it up for us. It was delicious. We also had salads with our meals. It was all to candlelight and very nice. At some point I guess my wife had eaten enough and unceremoniously left the dining room leaving her half-eaten salad behind. I thought she had simply stepped out to use the bathroom. But she was elsewhere (I don't remember where now) and oblivious to the rudeness she had just perpetrated. I returned to the dining room from whereever I had found her and cleaned up the kitchen and dining room table. The dishwasher is running as I write.
I am glad I had a good time with my brother and his family today. It was a welcome relief from the continuous miasma of suspicion, head trips and other negativity that permeate my apartment. I am now done with diary and must got in to the bedroom where, with any luck at all, she will already be sleeping.
What a shitty life I have here.
My wife dropped me off at the Civic Center BART station. She did not attend the day's activities. About half of the way down I tripped and fell for the remainder of the escalator ride. It's amazing that I escaped with so few injuries. Unfortunately the fall had torn a hole in a brand new pair of cargo pants that my wife had ironed especially for this occasion. There are also blood stains near the tear where the wounds had bled through the fabric. I was shaken by the experience but regained my composure enough to continue my trip to Alameda.
Their house guest joined by my sister-in-law picked me up at BART. I told her what had happened in the BART station. They were both appalled. When we arrived at my brother's house I meekly asked for some needle and thread to at least sew up the rip in my pants. They would have none of that. First of all my sister-in-law examined my wounds and put Witch Hazel on them to clean and dis-infectant them. She then bandaged them with gauze and large swaths of paper tape. Then, in the blink of an eye, they managed to conjure up a new set of pants, socks, a belt and even a matching pair of shoes. So I was saved! I would not have to attend my nephew's graduation looking like a wounded drunk.
I must confess that I expected a long and boring trail of speakers followed by a similarly bored line of seniors to receive their diplomas. But it was really nothing of the sort. I admired all of the speakers and clung to their words as they spoke. The final award of diplomas was handed to the individiuals that comprised the artistic disciplines of the Oakland School of the Arts.
There was some performance, too. The members of the vocal arts division rendered the Star Spangled Banner so beautifully that it brought tears to my eyes. Later they would sing the Beatle's song, "I Need a Little Help from My Friends." That was equally heartwarming. At some point during the commencment a single person came out a played a drum. I was bored by this. He was later joined by a trumpet player who was quite gifted. The two played together and the drummer was much more bearable.
Of course all of the main administrators were there, at least it seemed so because a lot of men in suits came up and talked. They gushed about how wonderful the school was and had become since its inception eight years ago. This began to drone on for me. Interestingly, Governor Jerry Brown was there and spoke a few words. Otherwise he seemed equally bored by the whole talking part of the commencement as was I.
The diplomas were finally handed out. As I mentioned earlier, they were received according to the discipline they had majored in at the school. A lot of clapping and cheering went on in the audience. I missed seeing my nephew receive his diploma because I was fumbling with the camera on my telephone. The commencement ended when all of the graduates left the stage in single file towards the lobby where they could mingle with friends and family. Along with the hustle and jostle of the audience we left too and managed to stay together.
We returned to my brother's house at around 5:00PM. We all sat at the kitchen table where we had cheesecake with strawberry sauce. It was delicious. My sister-in-law sent home some of it with me. My brother wanted to wait for the traffic to die down before taking me home. So we hung out in their backyard sharing old war stories from the seventies and onward. It was quite a friendly and social affair. Finally, seven o'clock rolled around and I packed a bag with the psychyidelic projector my wife had lent them for the Cinco de Mayo party and the cheese cake that had been prepared for us. My sister-in-law was the one who drove to San Francisco while my brother rode shotgun. I sat in the back.
So here I am. My wife had prepared lasagne for dinner and only needed to warm it up for us. It was delicious. We also had salads with our meals. It was all to candlelight and very nice. At some point I guess my wife had eaten enough and unceremoniously left the dining room leaving her half-eaten salad behind. I thought she had simply stepped out to use the bathroom. But she was elsewhere (I don't remember where now) and oblivious to the rudeness she had just perpetrated. I returned to the dining room from whereever I had found her and cleaned up the kitchen and dining room table. The dishwasher is running as I write.
I am glad I had a good time with my brother and his family today. It was a welcome relief from the continuous miasma of suspicion, head trips and other negativity that permeate my apartment. I am now done with diary and must got in to the bedroom where, with any luck at all, she will already be sleeping.
What a shitty life I have here.
Life is what you make it.
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