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2008-09-25 - 4:53 p.m.

The Weather Channel says there's a "possible tropical depression" over the Mid-Atlantic's Atlantic coast, and, when you're out in it, yes, the radar map's right: deep greens and yellows and every now and then, some reds. Mom, the girl and I just ran to the beach. I'd done it earlier in the morning and knew the strategy. I told them to make a small profile against the wind, to run with their elbows in close, heads down, and to keep going. Because once you stopped against that wind, it was hard to get going again. We made it down, peeked south, and saw no one. We looked north, into the hundreds, and, though it was hard to see at all because of the blowing sand, still could tell that no one was out up that way, either.

Been taking some beach photos, which I don't usually do. Got some good abstract stuff, I think. I like the stuff I've been taking here: sea foam, close-ups of aqua-brown waves, gulls standing at stiff attention. I never thought I liked photographing nature-y stuff. I always thought: I like the way that my eye, and other peoples' eyes, see man-made stuff. It grabs you like the natural stuff doesn't. Of course, that's silly. They strike different strings inside our bellies, is all. There's room for all of it. There's room for the whole world, the sky, the bones, the concrete, the stars.

And so I'm trying not to be annoyed with my brother. He's got the TV on loud and we can't go outside because of the sideways rain and the Weather Channel-wind, so I can't get away from it. It fills the house and I can't speak over it because my voice doesn't carry like the blast that comes from the Food Network and from the Seinfeld reruns. And he's not listening to it, really, just likes having it on and on loud, because what he's really interested in is the football web sites and the sports news. I really just don't like repeating myself all the time and that's what I've been doing for a few days. It hurts my throat to talk so loud all the time. And he picks at me, saying, oh, nice jacket but he's really making fun of it because it reminds him of a jacket he wore in high school. Or, why are you wearing sneakers because when you're at the beach you must wear sandals. He'll back off if I tell him to. Just haven't gotten fed up enough yet, I think. Plus, he's 36 and is still a pretty big mess. He wanted me to go in halfway on a $100 bag of coke the other day and I said no way. Instead, we've been having late-night beers at sports bars up and down Coastal Highway.

Anyway, I'm liking being here, love having my family and girlfriend around, but am feeling cooped up, too. The rain does sound nice, but I'd like to get out on my new bike. It goes, I'm not ashamed to say, like, really fast.

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