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My life is sometimes like a fast moving train, which makes infrequent stops for rest and maintenance. I would love to blog more entries, but time is lacking. If you were to judge the content of my life by my diary or blogs, it would read like an ancient papyrus scripture, full of missing text and segments. You might conclude, "this guy sits on his behind all day writing. Why doesn't he move about and get some fresh air?" Many call me lazy, which in reality, I am. But, laziness and inactivity are not quite the same thing. I'm going to try and change the misconception about my supposed inactivity with these accounts of life--though I won't refute charges of laziness.

Yesterday was another whirlwind day. At 9:00 am I covered yet another Town Meeting. I asked my editor, "What's wrong with these people? Don't they have a social life, or are their town meetings their social life?" He told me they would have a great breakfast, anyway, and I could add some levity to an otherwise boring story by writing about that.

There was quiche, chocolate covered strawberries and deviled eggs. I refrained from eating, especially after dropping a piece of quiche on the floor. I was so disgusted with myself; I did not try to eat another thing, but not before developing a craving for deviled eggs.

The summer day was spectacular. The emerald hills, the solid blue sky with puffy white clouds here and there made it a photographer's dream. After the meeting, which I could not leave quick enough, I went to a white water demo. The area where I live has become something of a river recreation Mecca, and people with kayaks, inner tubes, rafts and canoes drive into these hills by the thousands. The dams have a water release schedule, and the enthusiasts take advantage of the water release to ride the rushing water down river.

This weekend, there is a kayak and canoe festival, and I photographed and talked to paddlers and instructors. Took some great photos of paddlers shooting through the rapids! I had to sit uncomfortably on a rock, with my feet dangling dangerously in some rapids to get an eye-level photo of guys in canoes shooting through the white water. It was fantastic. Some of them flipped over and needed to be rescued.

As I was walking back to my car, one young man said, "Isn't this a beautiful day?"

"It's a day to smile stupidly," I replied.

But, my day was not done. I had an invitation to attend a graduation for a most unusual school, a small school of landscape design. The keynote speaker was extremely long-winded, and people were nodding off, babies began to cry, the seats began to empty. I met the caterer at the buffet.

"I'll be back for you later," I winked at her. She had a plate full of deviled eggs, among other kinds of food.

In fact, I took some photos, but left after the graduation ceremony. I figured these students had seen enough of me, and I wanted them to enjoy the rest of their big day with their parents and friends. I did think about the deviled eggs, though, and determined to make my own when I got home. So, I drove down to the city to buy some eggs, and bread and cheese. I was not yet ready for dinner; I had one more event to attend.

My Saturday was being used for someone else's pleasure. I decided to do something for myself Saturday night. A Howard Zinn film was playing in town, and it had been on my schedule for over a month. Tonight would belong to [I]me[/I].

There were two hours to kill before showtime. I walked across the Bridge of Flowers, took some pictures. I bought a small coffee at the cafe, and drank it on the sidewalk, while reading a book. A woman walked by, recognized me and asked if I was going to the movie. I was amazed, how did she know? I had met this woman only a week before, on a daylong sight-seeing tour. She said she was going to Cuba on a peace mission in the near future. She asked me to give her a hand setting up the hall for the audience.

After the cafe closed, and the girl put her tables and chairs inside for the night, I hung out on the steps of Memorial Hall, where a crowd was gathering in anticipation of the film. I took out my notebook and wrote for a while, when yet another woman stopped in front of me and asked, "Excuse me, is this where the Howard Zinn film is playing?"

As my eyes focused on her, I scanned my mental Rolodex to place the face. I was astounded; it was the woman who let me stay with her family in Washington, D.C. last November. She was as amazed as I was. We were doubly amazed!

"What are you doing here?" It turned out she was on vacation with her husband. The two of them were staying at a friend's house, a man who just happened to be producing tonight's film. He was also the man who took me to Washington. Her husband was a revolutionary in El Salvador, but they had moved to Maryland to be close to DC, where he was a spokesperson for a leftist group. I accidentally carried this woman's gym bag all the way to Massachusetts on an airplane! We had a great laugh about that. She and her husband and a daughter live in a Maryland suburb, they drive a new car, and don't seem to resemble the popular conception of Central American revolutionary anymore.

I introduced her and her husband to a retired English professor, who recently wrote a play about the Nicaraguan Revolution in the Reagan era. You know, the Contras and Sandanistas; the CIA and weapons for cocaine; Oliver North and pistachios--IranGate. I could see the professor and the revolutionaries hit it off when the old professor greeted them in Spanish. So, having accomplished a bit of the interpersonal alchemy for which Geminis are well known, I slipped away for the evening. I went home and made myself some deviled eggs.

The film, "You Can't Be Neutral on a Moving Train" was quintessential Howard Zinn. Very inspiring, controversial and thought provoking, Howard Zinn is an uncompromising activist. He is the original "Question Authority" spokesman of the modern era. A soldier turned peace activist, a tenured professor at Boston University. On this very stage at Memorial Hall, I watched another professor from another college perform as Karl Marx in "Marx in Soho." One of the film's directors/producers, Deb Ellis from Boston, appeared for a Q&A afterward. Matt Damon narrated the film. I bought a Howard Zinn signed book, "People's History of the United States" as a gift for my college student niece, the activist .