Wheeled Machinery

Lately I have been reading many good books. I do not always read many books at once, but sometimes I get on a roll and helping myself isn't an option. My wife bought me a three volume biography on Picasso. Holle gave me a small reader on spontaneous art. I found myself at the Strand the other day with too much time and I purchased a history of Post War Europe and an autobiography of a travel essayist.
There is still the last two chapters of that Culture Code book I have yet to finish to which this photo turned first in my head. Something about the adolescence of America. The obsessive American need to define itself in the face of the "other." That is where I thought I would be when I could finally option this Polaroid.
A funny thing happened between all those books and this post.
Danny called and arranged a lunch which he did not make. Having left my mobile phone on my desk, I missed his apologetic cancellation. I made the girl sit me in front of the window so Danny would see me right off the bat. This didn't make the girl happy as it messed up her seating chart. This was so clear I ordered extra appetizers to make up for my late opposite. Then I ordered a beer, so sheepish I felt. Then I ordered my lunch, thirty minutes late, and another beer. The girl asked if my friend was coming and when I told her the story about the phone the expression on her face turned a shade so sympathetic I felt like I might need to dine and dash.
On the way back to the office I noticed two funny things. I recalled, passing by a building I had passed by before, bumping into the Japanese R&B singer Toshi a few years back. I wore my own ripped blue rain coat and had Magda on the leash. He popped out of that same building and I said something to him about how I liked his music. Blanching, he scurried back through the door from which he had just emerged. I never saw him on that street again. I was just being polite. I don't really like his music.
On Crosby street I passed by a super attractive actress who had been in a commercial I had edited a year or two ago. At the voice-over session she was very impressive in her composure. On the street today she was on her mobile phone gesticulating not wildly, her nose more than red from the cold. As I passed by she spat "Fuck you, this is almost 2008! Not 20 years ago! You can't do that now."