I’m listening to a This American Life rerun in the yard, thanks to the new wireless router the landlord put in the other day. Nice range, nice speed, so long as I’m out in the yard. The screen on my laptop is blindingly bright. Ira Glass’s show is wonderful as usual. A story about a woman who suspects she’s a lesbian, throws everything she’s got into the lifestyle, with only one small problem: she cannot conceive of having sex with women. After a couple years of this she has this flash of insight that she likes men after all. So after going “out” to her family and friends she has to have a reverse-outage. Hilarious. Then there’s the story of this Hasidic Jew who tries his hand at rock-stardom. Another perfect TAL story; amazes me how they keep coming up with them.

Somewhere, fireworks are going off. I can’t see them; there are mountains in the way. But I can hear the rumbles. There’s something vaguely obscene about these fake war sounds happening while real wars are happening God knows where and limbs are being separated from their owners and people are waking up in hospitals trying to be thankful for what’s left.

Must not think bad thoughts.

Crickets, dogs and clicking on my keyboard are the only things I hear after the fireworks are over. I can see downtown San Jose glimmering through an opening between the hills.

It’s a cinch I look like a lunatic typing away in the dark out here, the laptop’s light giving my face an evil glow or something. But it’s the kind of thing you see in California; strange but not surprising.

OK, time to call it a night.