Sitting in a bar...

...in Richmond, Virginia. A lot of smoking -- I have a cigar with me, but I really needn't have bothered to bring it.

Of late I've been thinking of Sufis and sex, of ephemeral esoterica and physical immediacy -- there's a post there somewhere but I can't quite dope it out, and the big notebook I brought along to jot down my notes on the problem is now filled instead with doodles and thoughts on campaign finance and grant proposals.

A young couple just walked into the bar, looking for all the world like they'd rather be anywhere else than with each other--perhaps a few drinks will reconcile all differences.

The Beatles are playing on the sound system, I'm almost sure of it, though it's a bit too noisy to actually know what the songs are. Perhaps like an odor, I can detect McCartney's voice lingering above the conversations.

I half wish I had my cards with me (no, I don't -- cards in a bar can lead to legal problems). I practiced card tricks the whole way from D.C. to Richmond, which prevented me from being distracted by Sufis and Sex, or the prospect of drinking in a smoky bar in Richmond.