Tonight I went out clubbing for a while. I thought I was going to a gothic/industrial club night, but it turns out that one’s not really operational at the moment. Instead I was actually at some sort of more general alternative night that was in its second well. Ah well, my musical taste is pretty diverse so that’s not a problem. I talked a little with the organizer about career stuff. However, it did appear to be a pretty tight-knit group, and my tolerance for sitting alone with my thoughts expires after a while, so I left after 2-3 hours. But I’ll probably go back on future Wednesdays.
On the drive back down Madison Avenue, I caught a view of the main Methodist Hospital building over on Union. Whenever I see it lit up at night, with a cross and a horizontal “METHODIST”, it reminds me of the night my grandmother died there in 1993. I remember Mom waking me up in the early morning hours, telling me that it was time to go down there, and that sign looming ominously as we drove up. I’ve always had a strong “sense of place”, in that certain places trigger certain thoughts or memories, and Memphis is really good for that given my family’s background here.
This Saturday I think I want to go to Blues on the Bluff, a fund-raiser for WEVL, the community radio station to which I’ve become very attached. Events on Friday and Saturday nights now require a special impetus for me to attend, because my default plan is usually to take advantage of by far the most profitable nights for poker. Indeed, if I were playing full-time, Friday and Saturday would usually be my, “Sorry, I can’t make it. I have to work,” nights. But I’m trying to not miss out on all Memphis has to offer. I figure about 2 hours of blues will be enough, though, so I’ll probably head down to the casinos around 9.
I’m trying to figure out how to arrange my sleep so I can play in the late-night Saturday games but still make it to church on Sunday. I think I’m going to retrain myself to sleep 3 am to 9 am, and then because six hours a day has never been close to enough for me, take naps in the afternoon as needed. Call it the Spanish siesta plan.