Yesterday, we visited a thrift store in Roebuck with my mom and my Aunt Ramey. Kathryn and I encountered the scariest Burger King in the world, a sort of weird Frankenstein derelict of a Burger King, a Burger King that seemed assembled from random pieces of other Burger Kings, haphazardly stitched together with many pieces left out. It was not a pleasant experience. No, we didn't eat anything. Later, back in Leeds, we walked around town a bit, up and down Parkway Drive, and how much things have changed since the seventies and eighties made me sad, and how much things haven't changed made me wistful and glad. Last night, I looked through old family photographs. When we get back home, I'll write about my missing high-school yearbooks and the appearance of a '79 Leeder that isn't mine and all the attendant mysteries of this matter. I fell asleep about midnight, watching John Ford and Mervyn Leroy's Mister Roberts (1955).
Today, I'm going to the library in Birmingham to try and finish "In the Flat Field." And other stuff.