Such a Strange Day

Yesterday, a curious day, a strange energy. Cool in the morning, not uncomfortably so, not necessarily speaking of the winter to come; yet the body knows. Death is forthcoming, all around. The weather has been a nice respite, pleasant, warm days and nights; leaves in the wind, collecting in the street. No dark news from any part of the globe standing prominent. In fact, everywhere the astounding news from Chile, 33 men(a prescient number) drawn from the depths of the Earth, after 69 nine days below. How important is communication! One imagines the ordeal, had there been no communication with the surface, and shudders. What they were doing down there is another question. The stories they will tell. I look joyward to the books I hope will follow.

In the afternoon, I danced in the street, in the Wacky Jacket Jenkins wig and the wackiest jacket I could find, a knock-off Mad Hatter; orange, black and white checkered; a green, blue, black and white checkered, faux-vest; purple breast, purple and yellow cuffs.

Thirty-three of 40 automobiles, the occupants didn't look at me. Three in 33 people smiled. I danced first to a radio station without commercials, a voice for the community, but all I heard were black dudes whining to a woman, or women generally, that said black man could not be whole if not for her/she/you. Not really the Wacky Jacket Jenkins vibe.

I tried to burn a CD, but the disc was scratched and most of the songs skipped. Four of the six buttons on the costume fell off. A guy on a bike, one of those masters-of-the-universe, small-city mid-western types, said to me, as he blasted by, "Get off the fucking road!" A tough day, a tough crowd.

In sales, we tracked below projections by more than half. The last two weeks, Monday-Thursday, Monday's have been the strongest day, sales weakening as the days progress, which I think is a matter of fatigue. We often have an abundance of energy, coming out of the weekend; this modern way of life, with all of its attendant concerns, dragging us down as the days trail on to Friday. The energy emanating out of those automobiles yesterday, Thursday, was downright glum.

We're still well above sales from last year. Which means it was a weird day. Two weeks and three weekends before Halloween, anything could happen. We could break even, we could sell all that we can provide. There is only preparation for the latter. I think I'll begin to comprehend all that has gone on here, about the same time we have to tear it all down. An exercise in zen, in presence, in the cycles of life and death.

Reading the Hagakure, the way of the samurai, it is said the Way is in the relinquishment of self-interest in service to one's master. I'm inclined to think every man should be his own master, in service to friends, family, community and the Earth, that all sorts of mischief occurs when a man relinquishes his responsibility to the health and well-being of people and the Earth, as if some master somewhere can hold that for him.

I'm contemplating such things, with the likelihood that I will not have a day off from Monster Halloween the next three weeks. I've found, it is best to let go of all but the most basic expectations I have for the fulfillment of my own needs, day to day. I eat little, sleep less. Two solid nights of sleep in a row and I lose momentum. I've taken to wearing a woven grass hat - we have about five or six hundred different kinds of hats - in the style of a Southeast Asian peasant, or a Taoist sage, some days at the till. There is a purple witch who keeps an eye on me at my station, mostly as a reminder about whom I serve, beyond the partners and the staff in-house.

Anyway, it's Friday, a new day. A beautiful day. Should be a beautiful weekend, and very busy. A change in the weather is imminent. The veil between life and death is thinning. I think I'll dance again tonight. Hopefully, people will be in a better mood. I expect they will. It really is more fun when other people are having fun, smiling, bouncing around. Blessings.