I need to carry some sort of device for logging the things I see, smell, taste. I have tried to carry a digital recorder, but it takes forever to get it ready to record and people give me weird looks when I do things like record them as they spew nonsense. I have tried to send myself e-mails, but by the time I get access to my e-mail, I’ve lost some of that quick wit. I try to text myself quick messages, but the keypad on my phone sucks so I usually end up with a bunch of jumbled information such as this:

Jul 6

“Arti lang looks libke a friggin ham with a goat….”

Artie-Lange-05Apparently I was watching something on television featuring Artie Lange. He used to be on the Howard Stern show, but now he is a TV/Radio host. I don’t even know why I sent myself this text other than the fact that ole Artie seems to have gained a few hundred pounds making his head look like a canned ham with a goatee. Don’t ask me how I came up with this from that cryptic sentence describing Mr. Lange, but I did.

July 9

“People watching in the airport. Friggin kidszz slapping their shoes on the terminal floor.”

I actually remember this one. On my last day in California, I had met with a friend for lunch. After lunch I still had almost six hours before my flight, so I drove around a little, then just cutflip-flops my losses and dropped off my rental at the airport five hours early. After sweating off a few pounds waiting in the non-air conditioned strip search line, I got in a good nap, a few snacks, an attempt at writing some stuff, and even read a few e-pages. Killing time is easier to do if you have something to do. Personally I like to people watch.

I thought of writing some deep piece about the strangers who were passing me on their way to someplace else, and how sometimes you could tell a lot about a person by the way they dress or how they carried themselves while traveling. But—then I was distracted by the dozens of flip flop wearing little kids that were slapping their sandals on the polished floor as they ran around the terminal. It was almost as bad as the tour guides at Chichen Itza who insisted on snapping their fingers, clapping, and whistling while they walked around the ruins just because it echoed. I….don’t like repetitive noises like that, so after the first of a few dozen kids slapped past me, I was more in the mood for putting feral kids in cages not writing.

I guess the best way to log thoughts is still note pad and pencil. I still have a few. Maybe I should get a few more so I will always have something handy to file my thoughts in while they are still fresh…..

torn-and-worn-paper

Advertisements