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beach, outside

bleachers, steps, etc.

I arrived at the IMA about a half hour early so I killed time sitting on the bleachers by the tennis courts reading the depressing issue of the New Yorker in the sun. Really though, the articles I read today weren't so bad -- the Adam Gopnik story about the art historian football coach with cancer, which was really quite good but not online anymore for quoting purposes; and the review of Bob Woodward's book, which I now don't need to read for myself. The courts were all reserved for NCAA semi-finalists (?) to practice; so sitting on the big concrete bleachers wasn't a bad way to spend a half hour. There's something great about watching people practice something that they're good at, sort of at half speed.

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