What makes you happy, Bourdain reportedly asked people. What is your life like. What do you like to eat.
Mornings make me happy, he replies. The sunrise, the sound of birds. That is after I’ve worked out the kinks in my legs and back. Walks through the woods. The first cup of coffee—you knew that would be there. Hearing from you. Talking with good friends, with people who think and like to read. Being with almost anyone who is glad to see me. Music. Joni Mitchell singing California. Simon and Garfunkel singing America though wistfully so. Seeing my children—which extends to their families. Working out. Walking barefoot on the sand next to the surf in Hermosa Beach. Breathing. Writing a poem that works. Writing a poem that doesn’t work. Driving cross country. Getting a pedicure. Cool weather.
My life is a story written in a notebook with a pen while sitting all morning at Sebastian’s with a cup of coffee. Sebastian’s closed down years ago, but the story is still being written there. Sometimes in the story, my character is standing on the platform of a train station, his hands in the pockets of his P-coat, the collar turned up. He is waiting. In his pocket is a letter, read and reread. He waits.
A good cheeseburger with onions, tomato, pickles, mustard, and maybe a jalapeno. A good cold beer.
I did my 4 ½ mile walk earlier this morning. Headed out before the sun cleared the horizon. I getting ready now to head out again on my bike. Trying to beat the heat.
My first cup of coffee was delicious.