Workout Log 30 June 2012

40 minutes walking and dancing with weights on a rainy, beautiful morning at Power Station beach, now listening to the rain and jazz on RTHK, savoring the one cup of coffee I allow myself.

Lamma Island nothing like The Beach, Leonard diCaprio’s 1999 film about hip Thailand.

In the Beach, a Swede’s leg is eaten by the shark which is a major bummer to the beach crowd, children of Sixties parents mothered by Tilda Swinton’s sinister and fish like gaze, so the Swede is abandoned with only a good French guy to care for him.

Whereas people have come out of the woodwork with help in my case. This allows me to not impose excessively on any one person.

Like my Dad in hospital I do not resent time spent alone. I’d come upon his shrunken figure when I was caring for him in 2002 and he’d be peacefully staring out the window as I do occasionally today or reading a good book.

Whereas many people seem to require their nuclear family and extended kin to crowd into their hospital rooms with all sorts of junk…Garfield balloons, get well cards, Homer Simpson toys. It is to my father’s eternal credit that he would have given his money to a nurse had we pulled that shit.

It is probably better for me to go to outpatient with a friend as is recommended but getting the confirmation of Dr Jamieson’s news and the initial procedures were best done alone for I needed to register my reactions. I discovered alone that the world does get more beautiful and precious when there’s bad news, and that I felt loved and cared for by the spirits of Mom and Dad.

My Dad refused the “uniform” of the old Midwestern male that his brother in Michigan adopted: some sort of logo truck hat and a work shirt. My father insisted on wearing a jacket and tie. He was trying to rebuild a 19th century bourgeois persona which necessitated my colonial adventure in Hong Kong, for the preservation of bourgeois fortunes required not only a gold standard but also primogeniture.

For I am a proto-colonialist. The British takeover was on behalf of an amazing crew of ne’er do wells and riffraff because the sovereign protects his subjects. I have a sort of foothold and am loth to let go simply because I am playing out my father’s drama, of bourgeois as victim of the masses.

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