I'd been dreading the noise level of this weekend even more than the 4th of July. It was time for an air show, another summer intrusion I hadn't had to put up with for the past four years. Fortunately, we're winding up a week's worth of fog and low overcast so most of the planes were grounded. A double blessing along with the highs in the 60s compared to the long stretches of mid 80s I got used to in Mammoth. Although I see that highs there the past few days have been in the 40s and 50s, and I saw a snowman on the Mt Washburn cam a couple days ago.
I heard the person doing the winter hiring at Yellowstone called one of my former bosses this week to ask about me, so there's still hope for December. I really need to get back there and try to generate a little enthusiasm. Here I'm on too much of an even keel, filling my time with many books and music (today I watched The Last Waltz and was struck by how young everyone looked and how many were now dead) and old tv shows to keep my mind distracted from the humbling emotional aches and physical pains of getting older and waiting to be dead instead of living. If I had unlimited funds, that might be more tolerable, but I'd rather keep trying to enjoy life while I'm still able.
A couple days ago I was searching for new Yellowstone blogs and found a very open gutsy post about fear from someone working there last December. There was an aspect about her returning to Yellowstone which I could appreciate. I got woken up by a 12:30 AM phone call yesterday, and my first thought was that someone from Yellowstone had gotten drunk and was calling me. I didn't recognize the area code so I ignored it til morning in favor of imagining how the call might have gone if I'd been right. Turned out to be a wrong number.
As for those books, my latest recommendation is the forthcoming novel Station Eleven, a
post-flu apocalypse tale which I decided reminded me of Ray Bradbury
and the HBO series Carnivale. I also just finished rereading City of Pearl which I mentioned at the end of this post seven years ago--still enjoyed it just as much. Next up, Make it a Green Peace!: The Rise of Countercultural Environmentalism, which I got via interlibrary loan, one of the perks of civilization.
Typed while listening to The Complete Norman Granz Jam Sessions, classic jazz from a few years before I was born. Now turned off to appreciate a thunderstorm, a much better noise than jets.