Blake

(Saturday, April 22, 2017)

My tall young coworker Blake is renting a room from us (real life: Blake is in our workplace yoga class. He is sharp, funny and a talented businessman. Creative and open-minded. His desk is a few feet from mine.)

Rather than park at the edge of our very long driveway, he has rented a stall in a nearby ramp. Blake is so well-mannered. But he is having trouble getting his ramp access code to work. I give his tech access devices a try, with no luck.

Chris and I push hard to convince Blake to park in the drive. “Winter is over,” we say. Finally he agrees, and makes reference to Chris’ Nobel Prize. I wonder if that is an achievement from a past incarnation. Chris hears a different word than Nobel. “Mobile, mumble, oh-well.” I can’t remember his exact response when I awake.

Day notes:

Nobel Prize winner Bob Dylan released a new album yesterday. He did not attend the Nobel awards ceremony; Patti Smith played in his place. Yesterday Chris played Patti singing, “in my Blakean year.”