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Nothing. I am 80 years old, and thus—as they say in chess—well into the endgame.
The Malibu Pier at Sunset
It’s not quite here yet, but it’s coming. Lhude sing cuccu … or whatever. Summer has its moments in Southern California. Mostly, it’s just hot.
This time of year, I like to read works by William Faulkner (this summer, I’ll tackle his Collected Short Stories) and travel books about Arabia and India (I’ve already begun Charles M. Daughty’s Travels in Arabia Deserta, Volume I). Then, too, I will read the Travis McGee novels of John D. MacDonald and some Icelandic detective stories.
I will drink ungodly amounts of iced tea. I know it’s a powerful diuretic, but it does moisten the palate. This summer, it will mostly be the Ceylon loose tea from Ahmad of London. After the autumn equinox, I’ll switch to Darjeeling (when I need a lift) or Baruti or Ghalami Assam.
When it gets too hot, we’ll have a picnic lunch at Chace Park in the Marina and revel in the cool sea breezes, which typically die within a few hundred feet of the shore.
I will sleep without covers at night, usually with the window open. I will have to listen to all the dysfunctional car alarms, the patron’s of the bar across the street, and the cursing and moaning of all the street people.
In the end, it’s doable. One thing I will not do is travel—unless I could afford a flight to Alaska or Patagonia. The desert will be blisteringly hot, and we are surrounded by hundreds of miles of desert.
My most memorable vacations were to Yucatán, Peru, Patagonia, and Iceland. My least memorable vacations were going back to Cleveland to visit my parents and be treated like a 4-year-old.
I am a published author on the use of census demographic data in site location analysis, but that was a long time ago.
I try not to worry about the future because worry tears you down over time. There are things happening to this country that concern me, but I have no intention of succumbing to worry. That goes against my instinct for survival.
I have had surgery three times in my life. The major one was removal of my pituitary gland, which was eaten up by a benign tumor. Then I had my left hip replaced with a titanium joint due to severe osteoarthritis. Finally, I had cataract surgery in both eyes. All three procedures markedly improved my life. (It helped that I was very picky about my doctors.)
The day starts with a leisurely breakfast, including Indian black tea with honey and a squeeze of lime. Absolutely essential.
Yes: Mindful Meditation. Learning to place oneself in what is, not what you want it to be.
Its a five-way tie: Icelandic plokkfiskur (potato and cod stew); Southern Thai jungle curry with fish; Cantonese Chinese pumpkin stir-fry; Japanese salmon skin sushi; and Italian bucatini carbonara.
Tarnmoor 
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