and was taking a break long about 8AM to go to the gym.
and as I was collecting my gym-gear and finding car-keys and the like, a song went through my head, “Lily, Rosemarie and the Jack of Hearts” from Bob Dylan’s very fine mid 70s album “Blood on the Tracks”—
and my thoughts hung upon one line from this song, “the hanging-judge was sober, he hadn‘t had a drink...” for no particular reason
then half an hour later I am in the gym and riding the stationary bicycle, which has recently been blessed with a TV monitor.
I do not watch television as a rule. My own television was made in 1979, and spends the entire year when it’s not football season unplugged down in the basement. Its days are numbered, I understand—
but if it is there attached to the stationary bike in the perspiration emporium, I will watch it. sometimes Sopranos, sometimes Star Trek, or History Channel or M*A*S*H...
this morning it was a re-run of the adventure/drama show JAG which got me through my half-hour of huffing and puffing.
the villain, a disaffected psycopath who is all set to blow everybody to h-e-doublehockeysticks, is wearing a t-shirt that says