…I’m quite sure that Lem wanted his own kids. Was very saddened by the fact that he never had any. Was even bitter about it. And he didn’t want to borrow someone else’s. Not Ethel and Bobby’s. Not Jack and Jackie’s. Not anyone else’s. Just have his own. From himself…

“I don’t care!” “you” say. …But I don’t believe “you.” I’d bet that “your” spirit cares even if “your” mind can’t process it.

And speaking of processing things…I’m quite sure I need to dive into the world of watches. Perfume is a hobby of mine as well, and goodness knows I’d like to collect more rarities. But, I find watches fascinating…

Did you know that Patek Philippe made the first moon phase watch in the 1920’s? At least I think I have that right? Isn’t that wildly romantic?

Of course someday I’d love to own a Patek Philippe. But that’s like owning a genuine Tiffany lamp. Or a really beautiful, original signed worked of art. It’s not common. It’s possibly become “common” and/or bourgeois in a way…but it’s still not the norm. Most people don’t own a $50,000 + watch.

But golly…what beauty. And frankly, I prefer them to a Rolex at this my start into the world of watches. They’re so elegant. A Rolex screams luxury but a Patek Philippe has an attitude.

So far I have a vintage Cartier Tank Louis, a Longines Dolce Vita and a 1940’s (or so) Schiaparelli fashion watch. Oh, and one broken wristwatch probably from the 1950’s or 60’s by Clinton?

As of last night I’m developing a fascination with Baume et Mercier and Raymond Weil. They have quite a few Moderne-like, sleek, utterly romantic moon phase watches. They’re sublime. Mont-Blanc has a gorgeous moon phase watch as well.

…My uncle died last year. My favorite uncle. And then one of my mother’s first-cousins died too. And as they were both so alive…and sometimes I can hear their voices faintly in my head…and more than once or twice I’ve possibly felt my uncle’s presence…I’m lost. Hopefully not to God. Hopefully the opposite. But my whole life seems…backward now.

The first 40 or so years felt like one long push toward something utopian and impossible and possibly evil. Something soul crushing. Driven by the dreams of the Boomers. A forced, unlikely plastic maize. A push against the natural flow of life. And now…it feels like something has shifted. Drastically. And possibly not just for me but for many other people. Were we all being pushed into oblivion and the laws of gravity are snapping at everyone’s heels now?

The war in Ukraine wasn’t supposed to happen according to the dear Boomers… Not really anyway. …They flourished their thoughts with Whig rhetoric and never thought a Tsar would return in any form. “Change is the only constant.” …And Purgatory wasn’t supposed to be real according to Boomers either…

The suburbs were never supposed to repel stable wealth. Oil was never supposed to be able to break our necks. Animals and nature grow weary until they grow vengeful? But I’m aging…and the Boomers still think they’re in their 40’s.

More on watches, Stravinsky and Lem Billings? Or maybe I should discuss Harold Loeb and the proper way to make good lemonade?