This is a weird time of year. Here in Berkeley it's a gorgeous day, sunny, though chilly. The magnolias are already blooming. It's not spring yet, not even winter. The looming New Year makes a guy think about transitions, the passage of time, new stuff—the usual. The numeral 2005 sounds new—shiny and pristine, just out of the box, wheareas 2004 sounds (already), old, scratched, a little battered, like my camera cellphone (which I bought in 2004). This blog is one of the transitions for the new year. I've started it This is a weird time of year. Here in Berkeley it's a gorgeous day, sunny, though chilly. The magnolias are already blooming. It's not spring yet, not even winter. The looming New Year makes a guy think about transitions, the passage of time, new stuff—the usual. The numeral 2005 sounds new—shiny and pristine, just out of the box, wheareas 2004 sounds (already), old, scratched, a little battered, like my camera cellphone (which I bought in 2004). This blog is one This is a weird time of year. Here in Berkeley it's a gorgeous day, sunny, though chilly. The magnolias are already blooming. It's not spring yet, not even winter. The looming New Year makes a guy think about transitions, the passage of time, new stuff—the usual. The numeral 2005 sounds new—shiny and pristine, just out of the box, wheareas 2004 sounds (already), old, scratched, a little battered, like my camera This is a weird time of year. Here in Berkeley it's a gorgeous day, sunny, though chilly. The magnolias are already blooming. It's not spring yet, not even winter. The looming New Year makes a guy think about transitions, the passage of time, new stuff—the usual. The numeral 2005 sounds new—shiny and pristine, just out of the box, wheareas 2004

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So Much to Procrastinate, So Little Time

11:04 PM Thursday, March 10, 2005

[When is putzing around not putzing around?]

The Italians call it dolce far niente, sweetly doing nothing. In the Ashkenazi Jewish diaspora it's called putzing around. Today is a good day for it. It's a preview of spring, the Espresso Roma terrace is replete with gay chatter (not that kind of gay, the other kind of gay), and, as I write these words, it's three minutes before 3:00 PM—the hour at which most of the day has been shot to hell.

Riddle: when is putzing around not putzing around?

Answer: When a blogger is writing his or her next post.

If the blog is not updated, the Earth will still rotate on its axis, the universe will still be expanding, certain quarks will still have charm, politicians on both sides of the aisle will still be planning to raise taxes, and the gods and goddessess will still be duking it out as to who is the most omnipotent, or in some cases, as to who owns the exclusive rights to godliness.

In college I had a Japanese chum named Keisuke, whose favorite expression, stated in English with a strong Japanese accent, was "It is of no importance." It was only many years later that I realized that Keisuke was the only Zen master I would ever have, or ever need. Ah so desu. To putz or not to putz? It is of no importance.

It is Saturday, now 12 minutes after three. In few days it will be Monday, and I as a loyal American, will again believe that paying and sending out my bills, answering my non-urgent phone calls, working on my many projects, will again be important, moreover of the utmost extreme importance. But it will all be illusion, will it not, the eternal cycle of birth and death? Won't it?

Ah, but on Monday such Far-Eastern mystical questions and doubts will be of no importance. (Written Saturday, March 5, 2005 2:55 PM US/Pacific) —JDL

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