The night before last I met a relatively new Tremont resident for beer and tacos at the Lincoln Park Pub. We spent nearly two hours chatting about the various places we’d lived in Indiana, job prospects and how to fix Cleveland. Yesterday I was going to write more about this, but due to a power outage, I had no internet access. They ended up sending us home from work at 11, after nearly three hours of sitting in the dark. So, I did what any red-blooded American man would do with an extra 4 hours of time in a day; I went shopping. I finally found a replacement hoodie, even though it is brown, not black, slightly distressed and from a company called American Rag. At least it doesn’t have a logo on it and I am now warm. It does have an inside breast pocket which will be perfect for my camera when I’m out and about.
When I got back to Tremont, Rafiq needed a ride out to E.91st and St. Clair so I took him and a friend out there and spent a solid forty minutes talking poetry and the artistic process with the friend. I’ve forgotten his name because I’m a jerk. Friend is going to LA for a few months for some intensive writing with a creative partner in crime and from the few glimpses I had of the work he has done and has planned, he’s going to create some fierce stuff.
The weather yesterday was the sort that only appears in the fall. Brisk and mostly cloudy, mostly nimbus but ragged in shape and errant in movement that light from the sun kept leaking around them all and making the whole day into a fleeting golden hour.