Hitting the doldrom

I woke up this morning thinking about how we've finally hit the really intolerable part of winter, when the snow has lost what charm it had and the cloud cover never seems to break. But now there are fresh flakes dashing down to cover the gritty gray relics of their predecessors, which justifies the lack of sun. I'm actually looking forward to a pleasant stroll downtown for Levantine cuisine.

Last night I belatedly got around to calling Vivanaut. He surprised me by trying to make it to our home for New Year's, but was caught out by a bizarre "feature" of eVite. (Apparently the details of the event aren't accessible once the start time has passed.) Googling for our address only turned up monshu's old apartment and, of course, in all the excitement I didn't think to check my e-mail.

He's the same mellow old hippie that I remember. If you can ignore the 10% or so of what he says that pure Newagey flakiness, then you can find plenty of interest in the remaining 90%. This time he was burbling about the fiftieth anniversary of the Freedom Rides (which he participated in) coming up, as well as the joys and challenges of being retired and trying to find connexion outside of the Internet.

I can particularly relate to that last bit. As I told him, I seem to know too many gay men who talk a good game when I see them but are absolutely terrible about getting together. They may come if I organise something, but otherwise I hardly hear from them. For his part, he confessed that he has no gay friends at all in Hyde Park.