The first stage of my day begins at home with about 90 minutes for showering, breakfast, getting caught up with a quick pass on news, email, the social universe, and occasionally a few small chores such as cleaning the kitchen, laundry, or putting a quick clean on the bathroom.

The second stage typically begins at a coffee shop where my first imperative is an attempt to write. This can easily be derailed if a conversation is struck up or I meet someone else for coffee. My computer is still the Microsoft Surfacebook I bought two-and-a-half years ago, my first notebook, and my current interface to the larger world.

I believe it was back in 1985 that I started the habit of joining a public space where back then in the main train stations from Frankfurt to Wiesbaden and various other points around the German state of Hessen I would grab a copy of the International Herald Tribune, a hard roll (brötchen), and a cup of tea to people watch and catch up with current events. Back then I didn’t know I had to start writing to learn how to write, I do wish I’d started practicing that well before I hit my 40’s.

Fast forward thirty-three years and I no longer eat bread, I learned to enjoy coffee, I’ve not touched a newspaper in more than a decade, but I still enjoy people watching and getting caught up with international affairs. One other major difference between now and then, while in Europe I didn’t speak any language fluently (though I did attempt American English), and consequently the conversation of others was not translated into anything meaningful. Sitting in coffee shops across the United States from New York City to Los Angeles and a hundred points in between it is a curse to listen to the inanity of a population fixated on media and sports personalities, workplace dramas, and real estate decisions.

So maybe this blog entry should have had the theme that if a lifetime lasted more than about 75 years the burden of witnessing the stupidity of the masses would be too much to bear.

Is there a point again where I can sit happily in a public space and no longer care about the news, conversations, and lack of curiosity from the cross-section of humanity I’ve been in the presence of? I’ve got the feeling that a content and peaceful future for me will be a portion of my ashes sitting in a box unable to hear, see, think, and complain like the grumpy old man I never wanted to be.