The other day I found myself in a neighborhood bar with a friend, getting a nice easy buzz from a succession of increasingly appealing 7&7's. Getting sloshed in the afternoon when you're within walking distance of home is one of life's simple pleasures. On the way over there I found Hawthorne's normal weekend crowd irritating, slow-moving and faintly bovine, but after a few drinks and some laughs they looked sexy and fascinating. I wanted to invite them all to my place, get to know them better, maybe arrange a weekend in the mountains with them, hear all about their dreams, hopes, and deepest desires. I felt the urge to practice some of my seldom-used facial expressions, such as "Tender Concern", "Incredulity In Abeyance", and "Really Really Listening."

Such a perfectly honed state of mild intoxication is of course a tragically fragile thing, so easily turning into a sour, stale feeling. Descending from such a pleasant floating experience of simple camaraderie and acceptance into my own familiar churlish disengagement is a real bringdown, but the disappointment is softened when I remember that the fault lies not with me but with everyone else and indeed the world at large, not just people but all of human society. (I've been working on somehow getting animals and plants involved as well. Stupid squirrels.) How comforting it is to assign blame elsewhere and evade personal responsibility for my own character flaws! How anyone can sleep at night without such exuberant self-deception I have no idea.