The Quiet Life

I was prepared for another racuous holiday weekend in Canton, but it was surprisingly quiet, peaceful, with most of the obnoxious Cantonite neighors away somewhere else. I was talking to a school friend at another school friend's cookout, and she lamented the fact that our society has gotten too materialistic, that she longed for a simpler life for her children. God, I could just hug her. I have felt that way for so long, without any outward signals from anyone else, that I just assumed I was alone in my yearning for a peaceful, simpler life. I tire of living in Canton, hearing about the spiffy new cars people want to buy, the catalog orders from LL Bean and Lands End, the lack of sustenance in conversation about anything except what one had for dinner at the Bay Cafe. I just want to move out of the city, in a house away from everyone, where I can hear the crickets at night and watch the birds in trees during the day, but I am spoiled, so spoiled. In the city I can walk to the grocery store, to the bank, to the video store, to Subway, to the gym if we changed gyms, to the park, to eat. I don't want to realize at 8:30 on a Wednesday night that we're out of milk and I need to drive out and get some if I'm going to eat breakfast the next day.

We watched Sideways as our end-of-the-holiday movie. So many people are so-so about it, but I really liked it. It was much funnier than I expected.