Mar 19: Miami — and the most boring diary post known to humankind.

During the show last night, having a lighter workload than the show previous, I managed to sneak a little internet into my night; rather than ‘seek tomorrow what you can find today’, I discovered a certain establishment of handiness close to today’s hotel and couldn’t resist sharing the reviews with you. I hope you enjoy them; I particularly savoured the piece written by someone who seems to think it absurd that working in America, one might not be fluent in English. The review’s grammar speaks volumes, and for a super bonus check out the tangent-weaving missive from the cyclist.

: : : How some people spend their time : : :

Around 4am, while our bus laid stationary outside the Straz Center, I finished reading Huxley’s Brave New World in in my bunk. I loved the first half of the book — the world Huxley created, its orderly society and the people living within. When the story really took shape it held my interest, but toward the end, the brilliant philosophical complexity of Mustapha Mond’s readings began to sail over my head somewhat. However I liked how John Savage had little to add to the big discussion other than Shakespeare quotes and religious traditions. I felt he unknowingly reinforced the idea that there might be no escaping one’s conditioning. I didn’t expect the end to play out as it did when I first began reading, in fact, I was hoping for something dashing and exciting, some sort of societal breakthrough; alas how it did end was inevitable.

My next read will be When Autumn Leaves by Amy S Foster; I have the most certain suspicion that I went to Church Street School with Amy in Toronto.

Around 10am we were stirred and kicked off the bus into a humid Miami street facing a glass behemoth building amidst its legion of pale followers. Into the hotel we flowed like the walking dead: bleary and dreary to query the situary. It would be a wait until many of our rooms were ready; that’s what you get when arriving before the posted check-in time, but the upside is an obvious one — it is still early, and it’s an acceptable and predictable amount of daylight wasted. Besides, we get to sit in the lobby in our shabby clothing and watch the people who’ve paid from their own pockets for accommodation in this place. I get the feeling we won’t be invited to any wedding reception, pool party, or teenage megabong soirée.

‘One by one the guests arrive’

When settled into my room I did nothing of any interest to the reader and this theme I decided would carry for the remainder of the day.