Smallest Silliness from Unexpected Things

Sometimes there is unexpected happiness, mostly from the strangest things.  I went to breakfast at my favorite dive diner yesterday around noon.  I had gotten up late intending to work out as I haven't for the past two and a half weeks.  But I didn't seem to care much about it.  I had to make some prints for my buddy C.C. which was taking some coordinating with the fellow who has the printer, so. . . everything conspired to keep me sedentary.  The diner is in tiny strip of shops running a city block or so, an old thing built in the fifties, and it houses some strange and unordinary businesses that I somewhat enjoy.  Next to the diner is a CD shop that has managed to survive in the face of everything.  It sells local music and live CDs and vinyl records and all sorts of gimcracks.  When I go in, I usually just stop at the listening stations to see if anything appeals to me.  But yesterday, I wandered into a section I hadn't known, a small but packed section of wonderful books, good stuff, fresh stuff as well as the best of the hip classics.  They had things I'd not seen before and some I'd forgotten about living in the City of Franchises.  There were lots of the sorts of books I like, the sort of books I get at specialty stores and even Anthropologie, picture books or collections with small appeal.  Yikes!  What fun.

I bought one book on impulse, "Frank Reade: Adventures in the Age of Invention."  You can see the trailer for the book here.  This is a followup to "Boilerplate" which also has a trailer.  I am not at all into steam punk which is apparently the audience for these books, but the graphics and the phrasing in the politically incorrect text won me over.

The had the Grantland Quarterly which you can read online here, but holding the bound book in my hand was electric with so much fresh journalism.  Besides, sometimes you just have to give your money to the good cause.

While I was reeling from my contact high, I picked up the erotic drawings of the original creator of Superman comics, but I'll share those with you in another post.  And before the buzz wore off, I picked up a bunch of Knock Knock pads that may end up in a postal service delivery to your door if I have your mailing address.

The day was steamy with the coming of a storm, so it wasn't terrible that I had to go to the studio for C.C.  I set up and decided I was happy not going to the gym and picked up a half bottle of beer I'd opened the night before when I shot with the couple above.  A warm Peroni was just the ticket, and so I decided that I would finally get around to developing some film in the new "secret" Polaroid-like one shot two minute formula that will, I hope, change my life.  So I gathered my resources and worked my hands into the changing bag to roll some 35mm b&w film on the spool.  Of course, not having done much of this in recent years, I was having trouble.  When I finally got it wound, I felt deeply that it had not gone on correctly, but it felt OK when I ran my fingers along the film so I left it.  I went to the sink and concocted the "secret" formula, enough to develop the roll.  Two minutes later, the film was done.  I rinsed it and unspooled it, and I was right.  The film had not gone on right and had touched together over and over on the spool.  Still--the developer worked!  All that remains now is for me to quit f'ing up the process.  Soon, I hope, we will be in for some treats.

I am feeling it, feeling the coming summer vacations, feeling some sense of release and the accompanying giddiness.  The estimate for the work on the driveways, while not cheap, was not exorbitant.  There is a possibility that I can continue to live somewhat in the manner I've grown accustomed.  And now there is the little book corner, too.  Really.  Sometimes it is the smallest silly things.