About a Weak Back

I pride myself on being, 'the stoic,' sunny jimmy, but yesterday, dear blog, (I can confide in you), I was all 'dumps.' I woke up yesterday with a bad back; it was stiff as a board, I could not bend; putting my shoes and socks on was a long, painful process. I believe I strained my back the previous day, when I tried to put the booth together. 'Hey doc, I got a weak back, I got it about a week back.'

My bad back set the tone for the day. I put on a smile, and tried to gut my way through. Of course, yesterday was the marathon session at this energy conference: glad-handing people wandering around these little false booths, with false little smiles, plastered on their false little faces. My heart was not in it. I put on a performance, I talked about energy monitoring as if it mattered. I played the hustle and the schmooze. I could not wait to get out of there. I took a walk around Battery Park, it was a golden day, the sun shining, the water flashing, the life and sounds of the city swirling around me.

I cut out early, there was another 'cocktail reception,' which I was determined to miss at all costs. I went back to Brooklyn and decided to go see a movie. I picked, 'The Motorcyle Diaries,' a film about the young Che Guevara (I thought it would be a good antidote to the corporate schmooze), but it turns out I misread the listing, 'Diaries,' didn't open until Friday, so instead, I went to a repellant little French film called 'Red Lights.' It is a well-made piece, but I did not enjoy it. A perfect cap to the day.

I wandered back to my room and read about Shakespeare in London. Newcomers to London were greeted by the sight of up to 35 heads affixed to the London Bridge, these were traitors (mostly catholic) to the crown, who had been beheaded and displayed as a warning to the masses. What did young Will think as he paseed those heads? 'This is the town where I will make my fortune and fame.' (?)