Indolent holidays ought to be ideal for thinking deep thoughts but apparently not in Palm Springs. Perhaps it is the fault of the libations. Urs Truly gets distracted easily; it is difficult to conjure up deep philosophical ponders while surrounded by gentleman is various stages of dress.

I may have just brought the wrong books. “Plato’s Republic” may be postponed for another time and place. It is a good and thoughtful read but not here. It is sort of like wearing a three piece business suit when all around are speedos.

The second tome on my person is on the history of poison, both in its chemical and botanical forms and how throughout history mankind used them for malevolent and blameless intentions. No one seems to want to talk to me. I fear someone wanting to make idle conversation with me sees the cover and deduces I’m up to no good, plotting something devilish.

Yesterday we formed a party to go to the local bookstore. I need another ‘to read’ book like a hole in the head but I like to support local bookstores.  I bought a novel by Ethan Mordden, the title of which escapes me. This is more apropos for Palm Springs reading. It is light; it’s queer; it has a recognizable name – all just right to lure unsuspecting fellow lodgers into conversation and so on.

As I write this I realize my hymn to transcendent thinking as devolved into how to pick up guys using books. Oh the embarrassment. I think Plato covers this sort of degeneracy in a later chapter but I haven’t gotten that far.

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