right alignments

I have an 11am appointment at a tire place on Cable and Newport in Ocean Beach this morning. It will be nice to get the front end tightened up if just a little – it’s an alignment – as last night I experienced the Camry sashaying left and right at 70 down the 5. I wish I didn’t have the appointment because I’d make more coffee early – already fueled and buzzed – and spend the day here in my room, the only room I’ve got, reading from all the books I keep grabbing out of the bookcase because some written image I’ve just read or some specific reference, say, a name, makes it imperative I read that book right now. Like Walt Whitman’s poems. Like John Tarrant’s koans. Like the surfing magazine article on the ongoing marriage of surfing and art.

But, there’s the 11am appointment and I’ll keep it, thinking I’ll get there around 11:15, it won’t matter, there was so little information taken – just my name and the word ‘alignment’ and the charge. For all I know I get there and whoever walks into the office says, “Don’t know anything about it, we’re booked, you’ve got to be kidding.” This isn’t be careful what you wish for – remember me saying I wish I didn’t have the appointment – this is a busy place being crazily loose with paperwork and formality.

So I get set free for another day of adventure in OB. Another day of seeing the magic.