As we all await the commander-in-chief’s speech tomorrow night, may I suggest the  documentary, Why We Fight as useful background information?  Freedom, victory, safety—Daddy’s once again going to truck out the same old lies.  Who are the chumps who still believe him?

We’ve been having perfect weather here—dry and sunny in the 70’s—so Sarah and I took advantage of it by riding over the river to Southside on our bikes.  We locked them near the bridge, then hiked along the river and up through Forest Hill Park to a new Mexican restaurant on Forest Hill, then to a used book store close by.  Then we hiked back to our bikes.  The river was running high, and the views were spectacular with all the leaves off the trees.  It was perfect until we returned to our bikes to find that someone had snapped off the valve stems on our front tires.  We were 3 miles from home, we’d already walked 4.  We hoofed it home, returned with the car, got new tubes for the bikes.  It’s sad someone would do something like that just for the sheer assholery of it, but we didn’t let it spoil our good time.  After dinner we went to see “Deja Vu” at the Byrd, and it was a good Byrd movie ($1.99 a ticket in a gorgeous vintage movie palace is tough to complain about).  The plot is loaded with holes, but it’s a good ride, and we both like Denzel Washington in just about anything.

I finished reading Haruki Murakami‘s beautiful novel Kafka on the Shore a couple of days ago and still haven’t recovered from the experience. It was the first Murakami I’ve read—I don’t know how he escaped my notice before—but I intend to read more. I don’t think I’ve ever so willingly or completely surrended my disbelief to a novel before. I was quite thoroughly seduced—but not abandoned— for the book has stayed with me. One of the qualities I enjoy and admire is his refusal to let the fiction collapse into Meaning, the English Class obsession. He says in an interview “When you read a good story, you just keep reading. When I write a good story, I just keep writing.” I could feel that joyous sense as I read—that we were both having a good time. I read it because it was awarded the World Fantasy Award for 2005—which it richly deserves.

We’re headed for Florida tomorrow with internet access unknown, so Happy New Year too in case I don’t make it back before then. Just when I thought it was safe to be a Virginian, Virgil Goode has to open his mouth. I love the name though, wish I could use it in a story. He has raised the all-important issue of what object one swears on. I mean, if he had to swear in, and he was locked in the one motel room the Gideons had missed, and there was no Bible, would a VHS of The Ten Commandments trump a copy of Paradise Lost? It’s a tough call, but I’m sure Virgil will give it some thought. Peace on Earth, good will toward all living creatures, even Virge. (Love that name!)