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Next morning, I was reading an interview with Marc Evans, the director of My Little Eye, the classy Brit horror movie. A line he said triggered all types of memories:
“Our cameras aren’t showing you where the action is, they’re following it.”
I sat and thought about that, why it had such an impact. Was it some skewed metaphor for my life or simply a smart perspective? I made some coffee — had moved up to real coffee — yeah, beans, filters, the whole nine yards. What I liked best was the aroma: just let it cook, simmer and allow that smell bounce off the wall. I never ever tired of the sensation. Early mornings, if you get down to Griffin’s Bakery, they make a loaf called a grinder. Aw f**k, this is bread to trade your soul for, but the true bliss is that as you approach, the tang of
