April 10, 2021
It’s a gray day all around. I wish I could do more for Autumn, but this thing just has to pass. I know she’ll be OK eventually, and I’m trying to do all I can for her. Apparently what happened is pretty common—1 in 4—but that doesn’t make it any easier.
I made a chopped cheese sandwich for lunch, and it was pretty darn good. Publix sub roll, organic local beef, white American cheese, grilled onions, and mayo. It was exactly what I was craving. I made the same for Autumn, but with some leftover grilled chicken. Of course, we had some tater tots on the side. We did french baguette pizza for dinner while finishing The Rise of Skywalker. (Henry was not into these later films as much—probably because there was no animated companion series. He seemed distracted.)
I made pretty good progress this morning on rereading DeLillo’s White Noise. It’s a fun read and very much takes me back to the eighties—right on the cusp of the information age and Internet culture. The whole first part reads like a sitcom with no apparent plot—just clever interaction of a post-nuclear family in their small town. While seemingly plotless, there is a sinister liminal quality about the narrative and Jack Gladney’s preoccupation with death. The conversations that seem to go nowhere and the non-sequiturs are a lot of fun. Murray as a Mephisto-like presence who is always observing, touching, and taking notes on the periphery is also a hoot. I’d forgotten much of this; I last read/taught it about twenty years ago. Wow.
Coincidently, Jack Gladney is about to turn 51 in the novel. Should I be concerned more with my mortality? Hm.