November 12, 2008

Went to Mickey’s goodbye gala at the Usual. Whatever else one thought, one had to admit that she looked beautiful. That must count for something. Convivial company there, and I thought that I might have more friends of more different persuasions than I sometimes allow myself to consider. Walked home very drunk, with the moon diffusing through mist that was almost rain, and I said aloud to the darkness, “What a sweet, sweet night.”

Spoke with the Dean concerning the Jane Bingham controversy. I was already finished fighting before he called, so it was easier for me to form an objective view of what transpired between us. The Dean admitted the cathedral was losing a vibrant and “wonderful” program, but at no point had it occurred to him, apparently, to force the hand of the person who was preventing that program for no reason that I can see beyond the flattering of her own vanity. But, there it is. My insistence on considering the matter as well as the emotion must strike my cathedral colleagues as barbaric.

When I was a little boy my father brought home a Masterworks clock which had a fireplace in it, that burned when you turned a little knob in the back. I found one like it on Ebay, and turned the knob for the first time tonight. It was wonderful. It brought back such memories–and there was no one you say, “turn it of now, you’re wasting electricity.”