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("Running, running, with BlackBerry, cell phone and laptop in hand, members of America's professional class are in a perpetual race with time. 'There is a palpable sense out there that many of us have lost control of our lives,' says Dalton Conley, prominent sociologist at New York University.... He is admirably frank about his own frenetic life: 'It's all enough to drive one bonkers,' he admits. 'That rocking chair in my grandparents' house sounds real nice about now.'"--from Time Magazine, Feb. 9, 2009.)
5:00 a.m. and retired dude, a grandpa 13 times, is up and attacking Arizona Republic, sitting at kitchen table sipping Bernese Mountain Dog Blend ("robust body of plum and black currants") from alivecoffeeexpressions.com, "Uh-uh-uh-uh, stayin' aliiiive," mentally selected from hisTunes, pulsing through head as toes tap to burn calories and keep blood coursing through veins, news radio prattling in background, massaging and stretching tired/sore calf-quad-hamstring muscles while hustling through sports-front section-Valley section- living/entertainment-business-Mesa tabloid insert, clipping nuggets for possible website use ("Couple exchange vows at Taco Bell because they like it") before gobbling breakfast of flax-laced oatmeal-raisin bread-grapefruit (plucked from backyard tree), washing dishes and choke-swallowing day's pills, then quickly to den computer, logging on to Pandora (Mingus, Garner, Yo Yo Ma, Renee Fleming), news radio now providing secondary layer of audio wallpaper, before visiting Favorite Places (Sea.Times-Sea.P-I, NYTimes-USSMariner-DrudgeReport-HuffingtonPost-Writer's Almanac-WaMu-CapOne-AmExp-Onion-NakedLoon-EHS'57), reading, taking notes, managing accounts, then giving e-mail thorough going over, deleting, replying, pondering.
8:00 a.m. and dude, in uniform of day, in hallway passes wife in uniform of her day, says "Hi-Bye" and is out door to play or practice for hours some combo of softball-tennis-golf-basketball with session of weightlifting squeezed in, then retreating to Starbucks to savor mocha and compose website item, after which home to shower and catch club meeting or community potluck or else perch at kitchen counter and dig into wife's tasty dinner, warming front and back between glows of two TVs, one straight ahead in cupboard niche for frontal orbs, one aft in living room for eyes in back of head.
6:00 p.m. and dude settles into ergonomic recliner , taking deep oxygen-rich Yogic breaths, chewing Trident tropical fruit sugar-free to clean teeth, stay hydrated, burn more calories, switching on hisTunes to "In the Mood," "Sweet Georgia Brown," "Let's Dance," or "One O'Clock Jump," big HDTV on in split-screen mode, two programs vying for attention--tennis match, football-basketball-baseball game, Nova, Dancing With Stars, Desperate Housewives, classic film (Annie Hall, Casablanca), Office, 30 Rock, Two Men, Curb Enthusiasm, sitcom reruns (Scrubs, Cheers, Corner Gas, Frasier, Raymond, Will-Grace, News Radio, Seinfeld, Mad About You--for dude simply cannot get enough of certain sitcoms), flipping channels not just at commercials but in between football plays (dude loves it when QB audibles--five more seconds to check another channel), baseball pitches (homerun trot?--dude checks out four other bases instead), basketball free throws, slow unpressured bringings of the ball upcourt (10 more useful seconds), while also reading magazine (NewYorker, Atlantic, Time, Sports Ill.) or book (of late, Outliers, ForeverWar, Limits of Power, This Your Brain on Music, Six Songs That Changed World, Singularity, Rainbow's End, Reading the OED, Fierce Pajamas), taking notes, writing web thoughts when light bulb flashes (Anna Graham, cryptologist. Are you sure that everything is relative? Absolutely.), solving or creating crossword puzzle, speaking to wife passing from kitchen to den where she does own multitasking, gulping more coffee, answering chairside phone, again massaging and stretching tight calf muscle, until finally falling asleep, pen in one hand, remote in other, TV's personality still split, waking hour later to find book in lap, pen on floor, remote not pried from cold, dead hand, drool running from chin to shirt.
10:15 and dude totters off to bathroom, does dental duties, falls into sack and sneaks in Leno's monologue on bedroom TV, doing one more crossword before inserting ear plugs and nightguard and drawing sleeping mask over restless eyes.
11:00 p.m. and dude's bedside alarm is set for 5:00 but won't be needed.
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