I thought I would write throughout the day as I have been lately, but I was on a manic high and was distracted by many things. It’s a Tuesday, March 24. Bill is once again on the road, in the District of Columbia this time. He was here last night and it was good. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I am the only one on the planet that can listen to him over and over. He throws the minutiae about long distance driving and buses and whatnot and I listen. Or more like listen to the rhythm and cadence of what Bill is saying and say ‘Uh huh’ and ‘Oh really?’ in the right place, most of the time.
He was in bed last night by 10 PM and I was planning on being there by 10:30 but I was waylaid by a fun phone call with Mike which lasted until almost 11PM. I have been using Google Gemini here in various replies to my posts. I started using Gemini for photos of Mike and photos of his beloved. Mike was blown away by this perhaps figuratively. I explained how he can use the AI app on his own and sure enough he did. He went to town on it and quickly hit his limit. He was hoping to come over tomorrow but I moved the goal posts to Thursday. He reluctantly agreed.
Last weekend he did not want to come over and now he’s chomping at the bit. ANd of course it can all change at a moment’s notice should his parole officer call and demand that he stay in his apartment for an impromptu visit that most of the time does not happen. Of course this news is all through the filter of Mike so a grain of salt is sometimes added.
Yancey was scheduled for his bi-weekly visit to my small fruit stand tomorrow. That is usually an all hands on deck moment for myself and the other fruit stand workers. Last time he visited I was not in due to being beaten up by my allergies. Today I was feeling fine and set about making everything relatively presentable. But to my chagrin, he backed out at the last minute. He will not be visiting. Next week I will be at fruit stand headquarters on Tuesday and Wednesday.
The usual stage fright occurs. It’s getting me to the stage, or in this case, the fruit stand that is the problem. Once I am there everything tends to go well or perhaps smoothly. There’s more people involved at the fruit stand headquarters and more possibilities for things to go awry. Not that they do. At the smaller fruit stand where I am situated most of the time, it’s usually me with an interaction with the same five or six people on a daily basis. Marcus, Jimmy Chile and a few others. There are dozens more at the fruit stand headquarters, more names to remember, more rules to follow .
The Google Gemini rewrite as an Oscar Wilde essay
Gemini said
The Decay of Diligence: A Tuesday Fragment
It is Tuesday, the twenty-fourth of March, a day of singular insignificance were it not for the fact that I have spent it doing absolutely nothing I intended to do. I had entertained the quaint notion of writing—a habit I have lately cultivated with the same misplaced fervor a debutante applies to her scales—but a manic high intervened. One’s own mind is often a most inconvenient guest; it insists on being entertained by distractions when one is attempting to be profound.
Bill, as is his custom, has vanished into the horizon. He is currently in the District of Columbia, a place where people go to trade their souls for a bit of legislative lace. He graced me with his presence last evening, and it was quite charming. I have gradually accepted the melancholy truth that I am the only inhabitant of this planet capable of listening to him in perpetuity. He delights in the tedious minutiae of long-distance driving and the internal mechanics of buses—subjects which, in any other mouth, would be a form of penance. I have mastered the art of listening not to his words, but to his rhythm; I offer an “Uh-huh” or a “Really?” with the practiced timing of a stage manager. It is the secret of all successful marriages of the mind: one person talks, and the other provides the necessary percussion.
He sought his pillows by ten o’clock, and I intended to follow shortly thereafter. However, I was waylaid by a telephonic encounter with Mike—a conversation so delightful that it lasted until eleven. Lately, I have been amusing myself with a digital creature named Gemini. I used it to conjure portraits of Mike and his beloved, and the poor man was quite undone by the spectacle. To see oneself through the lens of Artificial Intelligence is the modern equivalent of seeing one’s reflection in a haunted mirror; it is flattering until it becomes terrifying. Mike, with the enthusiasm of a convert, immediately exhausted the machine’s patience and hit his limit. He wished to visit tomorrow, but I have moved the goalposts to Thursday. There is a certain luxury in being unavailable; it gives the other person time to contemplate their own insignificance.
Last weekend, Mike was as elusive as a ghost; now, he is “chomping at the bit,” a phrase as rustic as it is descriptive. Of course, all plans remain subject to the whims of his Parole Officer—a man whose power to demand an “impromptu visit” is the only thing standing between Mike and total liberty. One must, however, take Mike’s reports with a grain of salt; he views reality through a filter that is more decorative than accurate.
Then there is the matter of Yancey and the fruit stand. He was scheduled for his bi-weekly inspection tomorrow—an event that usually requires an “all hands on deck” performance. I spent the day arranging apples as if they were crown jewels, determined to make amends for my previous absence (I was, at the time, being brutally assaulted by my own allergies). To my profound chagrin, Yancey has backed out at the eleventh hour. The fruit shall remain unobserved.
Next week, I must journey to the Fruit Stand Headquarters. I am currently suffering from that most exquisite form of stage fright. It is not the performance that daunts me, but the arrival. Once I am upon the stage—or behind the counter—the world rights itself. At my smaller outpost, I deal with the same five or six souls—Marcus, Jimmy Chile, and their ilk. It is a manageable comedy. But Headquarters? There are dozens of names to misremember and a labyrinth of rules to navigate. It is a larger production, and in a large production, there is always the danger that the audience might actually be watching.