NASHVILLE—Friday evening I walked the York Gary Loop in somewhere between 33 and 34 minutes. Saturday morning I walked a two-mile out-and-back on Old Centerpoint Road in 29:02, Sunday morning I walked the York Gary Loop in 32:42, and this morning I walked at random around the southern part of Nashville for 34:11. I also walked with Mother at the Nashville City Park for about twenty minutes on Saturday and Sunday.
SENTENCE OF THE DAY from A Different Closet
“It was just the way he was; you know, all boy all the time,” Julie Hopper said. “There was this ridiculous game he used to play. He called it the Miss Wherever Pageant. Wherever we went, he’d try to pick out the best looking girl and name her after the place; like, for instance, the best looking girl at a Waffle House would be Miss Waffle House. It was endless. There were Miss Walmarts, Miss War Memorial Stadiums, Miss Pizza Huts, you name it, Miss Faculty Dining Room. I’m not sure, but I don’t think gay men play that game. Also, this was kind of odd, he had a thing for kind of cute little boyish-looking teenaged girls. They almost always won his Miss Wherever contests. His friends all gave him a hard time about it. But, don’t misunderstand me, he wasn’t a pervert, at least I don’t think he was, but his winners were never the conventional beauties; you know, your typical big-breasted blondes, the kind of women who marry professional golfers or...I don’t know, New York Yankees. They just didn’t appeal to him.”
SENTENCE OF THE DAY (for Sunday) from A Different Closet
Their table sat next to a long row of windows, from which they could see students walking to and from classes, or congregated in small groups on an open area of concrete and brick, with several young Bradford pear trees growing from small, brick-lined, circular openings; a three-story, red-brick library served as their backdrop, one hundred feet away.
SENTENCE OF THE DAY (for Saturday) from A Different Closet
Old wood and new cotton—his room’s perfumes—lingered as he walked toward the Times-Record Building, three blocks further south on Capital Avenue; he heard a barge horn blow over the rumble of mid-morning city traffic; it was a cloudless, comfortably cool, perfectly blue day, and sharp sunlight, cutting along the old, stone-building shadows, contributed to the vigor of this southern fall morning.
SENTENCE OF THE DAY (for Friday) from A Different Closet
At a quarter past noon, The Hob-Nob was perfectly packed with a cross section of what Lardner perceived as the local populace, men in outdated suits, farmers, and laborers—little different from those in St. Louis—wearing filthy jeans and old sweatshirts or denim jackets; there were also a smattering of young adults, seemingly students, and a handful or business women, bank tellers or secretaries, he imagined.
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