Saturday. Roderick and Molly returned from Lake City on Thursday. The lesson did not go that well. Molly says she played the Diabelli perfectly, but Maestro Chickarina, who is known to be a perv, was more interested in feeling her thighs.
I made my customary Saturday rounds along Main Street today. At Dorabella’s Bookstore, Megan Cupcake read aloud from her novella, Lust and Lustiness. Megan calls it a fusion of Jane Austen and the modern bodice-ripper. Here’s what I remember:
The next morning, Miss Emma Chillingworth stood in the grand foyer of Tamworth Hall, her gown slightly disheveled from events of the previous evening. She opined: “There are two things in life that matter, an income, and sex. And if I must choose between one and the other, I choose sex.”
I didn’t hang around for the rest.
Dad was having a hard time today. He didn’t feel like getting up when I visited. I’m beginning to wonder if he’s going to make it.
The KulturPunks are back in town. I was waiting for the crossing at Main and Fifteenth when a line of low-riders rolled past ominously, blaring Mendelssohn’s Das Heimweh: Was ist's das mir den Atem hemmet at full blast. That’s the song Fanny Mendelssohn wrote but Felix published under his own name. KulturPunks dig Felix and Fanny. This disturbs their Boomer parents, who think kids should listen to hip-hop, do drugs, and fornicate in the hallways.
Pia says the Ericsons got a shipment of Surströmming from Sweden. It’s fermented fish. She says they will open it on August 19. I can’t wait. I like fish.
All for now.