Saturday, July 3
Friday afternoon, after the shopping trip, Laura picked me up and I spent a little time getting her daughter's new iBook up and running on their home network. Then, bringing back take-out Thai food, we rendezvoused (with Rusty) back here at the apartment, and the four of us had a rollicking evening. To honor the passing of the great Marlon Brando, we viewed our DVD of "Don Juan DeMarco." (1995) Unfortunately, Gini's exhaustion from Thursday, and Laura's need to pick up one of the other triplets forced an early end to the evening.
But as I'm fond of saying, enjoyment of a thing does not necessarily require finishing it. Por ejemplo, I harbor a deep and abiding passion for Thomas Pynchon's work, but I've only actually finished "The Crying of Lot 49" and "Vineland." I derived great enjoyment from reading"V." and "Gravity's Rainbow," and still feel warmly toward them, but I did bog down somewhere in the middle of both. In the case of the former, the bogging down occurred during an uncomfortable fever dream of colonial Africa. I could trudge no further. In the latter, some S/M coprophiliac German officer starred the last interlude I can recall before the abandoning. (About "Mason & Dixon": don't ask, don't tell. Sorry, Tom. It's not you, it's me.)
"I'm just not hung up on this whole completion thing."
--Nick, the William Hurt character in "The Big Chill" (1983) (if memory serves)