I just made a difficult decision. I passed up an opportunity to watch Captain Phillips. It won’t air again until Friday. You see, I don’t play the record/save/watch later game. I don’t watch Netflix, either. I know that seems silly, but I think there’s a place for retro, not to mention protecting me from myself. If I could just watch something any time … I would, and it would serve the practical purpose of giving me an excuse not to write, even though I’m barely doing it now and this is just a warm-up, in hopes that it will lead to more substantial stringing together of words … sometime soon … please …

I don’t think World’s Dumbest Partiers on truTV is going to pump up the creativity, either. Perhaps I should listen to music. Classical music. In case I want to write like Shakespeare and use words like “forsooth.”

Likest thou?

Where’s Aerial America, on Smithsonian HD when you need it? (“Connecticut,” at noon, if you’re keeping a program guide at home.)

At the moment, it seems as if this task is too little, and the continuation of the crime novel is too much. The good guy is in the midst of a coy meeting with the bad guy’s mistress, and even though he distrusts her, he is aroused by her, and it appears as if she is trying to seduce him. Meanwhile, the good guy’s son, seeking physical love by a means that is seemingly less hazardous, stumbles across a surprise for which he is unprepared.

And the bad guy is trying to make up his mind on which woman, wife or mistress, he can do without. And we’re talking, literally, “do without” …

Okay. I think I’m ready now.