June 12, 2015

Harder to get up before the sun, as he rises early, runs late, golden and stupendous.
   
Magnetic Theater last night to see a Moliere-ean send-up of the Asheville scene. Parts of it were magnificently better than that. The new space is calculably better than the old one. Beside me, a gorgeous woman and a sort of goofy looking man. You always wonder about such things. Maybe he was her brother. Drinks afterward at King James. My back was out all day, so I had to sit at first one way and then that. Not the best night for the theater.
   
Returned from the gym, dead-headed the roses, pulled up pokeweed that appeared, I think, during a single night. I sat in the whirlpool with one hot jet pointing directly at the sore spot in my back.
   
The groaning that woke me several nights ago was actually from my old place, 62, where grandfather suffered troubled dreams.
   
Sky ruffled with steel colored clouds.

Still reading my GPTC biography of Albee. He is still my prime example of someone who gets famous because someone important decides you're going to be.