Heating up the Race

Tea: Mandarin Green, iced.

Music: Squeeze, "Tempted"

Time: Night.

I am, as you might not know, an independent politically. Until they form a "Dude, Don't be a Moron" Party, I have no permanent allegiance. If there's a good Democratic primary, I'm a temporary donkey. If the Republicans have the best primary, they're GOPeachy keen with me -- until it's time to quit again.

For years, the presidential primaries made me a Republican so I could vote for Pat Paulsen. No such luck these days, and I'm stuck between two major party choices who don't exactly thrill me. I could vote for Ron Paul, I suppose, or Bob Barr, but it wouldn't matter. I live in Kansas, and because the Electoral College still hasn't been consigned to history (which will be one of the first acts of the "Dude, Don't be a Moron" Party), any vote which isn't Republican doesn't count.

(Not to say that I'd vote Democratic, or any other affiliation. I'm just saying that each vote should count, which is the subject of another rant entirely.)

Anyhow. A friend of mine, who trusts politicians about as far as she could spit Antarctica, pondered whether to write in the name of chef Daniel Bouloud. "Foie gras in every garage," she said." I pointed out that he was born in France. "Fine," she said. "Anthony Bourdain. I'm not picky."

Hmm ... not a bad idea, that. Give me a tattooed, snarky chainsmoker who never met a home brew he didn't like over a prefab candidatron any day. So the Swiss would hate us. Or maybe the Austrians. Or both. If we could get the list down to two countries, I'd be okay with that.

A Round Tuit

Tea: Blackcurrant with honey.

Music: The Who, "Another Tricky Day"

Time: Midafternoon.

What's this? A post before nightfall?

It happens, yes, and it needs to happen more often.

I tend to be the world's greatest procrastinator, or I would be if I could ever get around to it. (Ba DUM pum.) Seriously, though, I've (mis)mastered the art of putting things off until the last day, the last minute, the last second.

To be honest, there are better life strategies. So consider this a small step in the right direction. There will be others taken -- some larger, some smaller.

I suppose I'm around to it, at last. Just call me Magellan.

Bumbershoot Deficit

Tea: Chai, iced.

Music: David Bowie, "China Girl"

Time: Night.

It's raining tonight, and I have a walk of a mile (give or take) back to the house.

That's fine. I like walking at night. Always have. Most of my memorable walks have been after dark -- here, in southwest Kansas, in New York, in Germany.

I just wish I'd remembered an umbrella ...

Hats off to Larryville

Tea: Vanilla Lapsang.

Music: Danny Wilson, "Mary's Prayer"

Time: Night.

I went to Lawrence, Kansas, today, for work (present and, one hopes, future). I revisited some familiar haunts, namely Henry's (for an Americano) and the local branch of the Great Harvest Bread Company (just to breathe).

Then, on to the Spencer Museum of Art, on campus at the University of Kansas, to gather material for a review of the quilt show. (I'm turning into quite the quilt-viewer, it seems.) Check it and the other shows out if you get a chance, but give yourself plenty of time to get to the museum ... there's a ton of construction that disrupts foot and vehicular traffic.

Then it was back to Mass. Street for a Latin American lunch (pork al pastor rice bowl with an arepa on the side) at La Parilla. (Its sister restaurants serve noodles -- one Asian, one Italian. That's a global family.)

So why am I telling you all this? To make you jealous?

You know me better than that. I want you to go check it out for yourself.

The Aftereffects of Neglect

Tea: Peach, iced.

Music: INXS, "Don't Change"

Time: Evening.

Today, I met a woman who teaches at one of the colleges here in the metro area. She teaches English as a Second Language to one group of students -- and, in effect, English as a First Language to another.

They're native-born college freshmen, products of the public schools, who can't identify the parts of speech. (I have a friend who specializes in truly righteous rage. I'd like to turn her loose on whoever failed these kids.)

It's astonishing. It's sad. But at least, with enough Schoolhouse Rock, it's fixable. A lot of damage isn't.

Spanning a Gap

Tea: Iced Litchi with honey

Music: U2, "An Cat Dubh"

Time: Evening.

It happens sometimes. Tonight, I got nothing.

You should listen to this, though. It's afreakingmazing.

More proof that polished and brilliant are not always the same thing.

Like the fellow once said ...

Tea: Black Fruit.

Music: Bobby Darin, "Beyond the Sea".

Time: Night.

Well, the Beijing Olympics are over. There have been amazing achievements (Is Usain Bolt is a freak of nature, or what? Okay, so maybe the celebration was a little over the top.) and touching tributes like this one.

And there have been huge downers -- many of them courtesy of the hosts, from gymnasts in diapers to Cutegate to the fact that NOT ONE FREAKING PROTEST PERMIT WAS GRANTED.

I was talking to a friend tonight on the phone (land line -- the cell phone mic falling into the same category as a certain Spanish dictator), and the consensus was that this guy provided the lowest point of the Olympics.

We haven't seen the headlines, but we came up with several:

"TAE KWON DON'T"

"TAE KWON DONE"

"TAE KWON DOLT"

"TAE KWON DO YOU REALLY WANT TO HURT ME?"

And, the one that got the biggest giggles from both sides:

"TAE KWON D'OH!"

Thanks. We'll be here all week.

Voiceless

Tea: Blackcurrant

Music: Twisted Sister, "We're Not Gonna Take It"

Time: Night.

Long absence, I know. Death (my wife's other grandmother), illness (mine) and fatigue (ditto).

And tonight, the microphone on my cell phone went out. Not the earpiece, mind you, only the mic. So while I can hear, I cannot speak.

I readily acknowledge that I could be a better listener, but this is ridiculous. And besides, there are words I would say that I can't. And while sometimes that's a good thing, this isn't one of those times.

I Even Forgot a Title

Tea: Stomach Soother

Music: Oingo Boingo, "Dead Man's Party"

Time: Night.

My head is a-jumble with thoughts, few of them coherent. (Sometimes being And Boy has its drawbacks.)

I could rant about the Chinese and their Orwellympian schtick of changing the present by changing the past. (Oooh. I like that word. I'm going to keep it.) But nothing's going to change ... the IOC and the international gymnastics federation aren't likely to make the host country lose face.

I could go on about my inadvertent backpacking trek this afternoon. (Better not, though.) I shouldn't grouse, though. I got in a good walk, even if it was raining.

Or I could say something about ...

Darn.

I forgot.

Among the Living

Tea: Peach, iced.

Music: Naked Eyes, "Always Something There to Remind Me"

Time: Night.

A funeral took me out of town for the last couple of days. It was my wife's grandmother, who lived to be 90.

Hers was a full life, in measures of both joy and sorrow. (No one should have to bury one child, much less two.) And she will be missed.

It's been a rough patch, recently, for my family and friends. Lots of departures -- some sudden, some expected but no less hard to take.

But life, as they say, goes on. Here's to the full living thereof, and the memories of those gone on before.

Going Walkies, Part II

Tea: Iced Litchi Red

Music: King Crimson, "Pictures of a City"

Time: Night.

I got in late from the Second Friday Artwalk in Kansas City, Kansas. (No barbecue forage, but I did get to taste some excellent locally made sausage, so I didn't make a liar of my "Carnivore" shirt.)

I was going to head home around 9:30 p.m., after the last gallery shut down. But when I was invited to stick around and watch a bicycle race, I remembered the admonition that "Life is lived in the detours."

I stayed, talked, had a few beers, made some new friends, was offered another photo show. Call it yet more evidence for the benefits of (a) hoofing it and (b) winging it.

See you in KCK on September 12.

Going Walkies, Part I

Tea: Mandarin Green, iced.

Music: The Proclaimers, "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)"

Time: Afternoon.

Just got in from another ten-mile hike, this one at Fleming Park in Blue Springs, Missouri.

The time was better, the trails largely meh. The "rougher" trail disappeared at times into long grass (always fun in tick country), and the trail to which it connected presented little physical challenge beyond the distance involved.

Plus which, the foraging opportunities were all but nonexistent. There were no wood ears to be found, the prickly pears are at least a week short of ripeness -- and the only blackberry patch we located was guarded jealously by a stand of poison ivy.

Oh, well. The two-plus hours alone with my son did give us time to talk -- and for me to reassure him that, if need be, I can still take him.

Now, I'm headed up to Kansas City, Kansas, for a walk of another sort -- the Second Friday Art Walk. And I'm wearing my "Carnivore" shirt.

There might be barbecue foraging opportunities, you know.

Tune in next time for "Going Walkies, Part II." Because this time, it's personal.

Put it Back.

Tea: Chai with an added espresso shot

Music: Bobby Vee, "Take Good Care of My Baby"

Time: Night.

The weekly free concert at Broadmoor Park brought home a simple but oft-ignored truth: If you're going to do somebody else's song, don't rearrange it unless you can make it better.

The headlining band had some talented musicians -- especially the drummer (a friend of my son and a future rock star if he catches the right breaks) and the bassist. The problem was with the vocal mix (thin and reedy + blues = fail) and the arrangements.

"Not Fade Away" sounded like "Kansas City" sounded like "Summertime Blues" -- and they all sounded vaguely like "I Fought the Law," which wasn't even on the set list.

Oh, well. At least it was cool out, and there were still some crabapples on the trees. I'll take my pleasures where I can find them.

Taking it Off

Tea: Blood Orange

Music: Metallica, "Enter Sandman"

Time: Night.

This will be short. I'm tired.

But I just weighed in after going to the gym tonight, and I'm down eight pounds over the last month. And that feels pretty good.

Just have to shed another 18 or so now ...

Strike Party of One

Tea: Mandarin Green, iced.

Music: Bruce Springsteen, "One Step Up"

Time: Night.

I took down my second photo show tonight. Eight hours to hang the thing, give or take, and it came off the walls in under two hours.

It was a different sort of ending, compared to the first show. That one had to come down early because the venue -- the late, lamented Nighthawks Coffeehouse -- was closing. This one lasted a month longer than I had expected.

Still, there's a part of the night that feels like a wake. I expect to see some of the sold pieces again, but others ... who knows? (I don't sell duplicate prints.)

Oh, well. I learned a lot, met some good people and managed to raise a few bucks for the American Cancer Society. Can't ask for much more than that.

Long Distance Cravings

Tea: Blood Orange, iced.

Music: Chicago, "25 or 6 to 4"

Time: Evening.

Apologies for the lapse. The leg went bad again yesterday, although it's doing better today.

I got a "You need to hear this" call today. For the next few minutes, I listened to the recitation of the menu from a Jamaican food stand in New York. (This kind of thing happens to me on a fairly regular basis.)

And you know what? Now I want street food, too.

I want the carnitas you can get from the stands in Liberal, Kansas. I want Mexican ice cream (grape, please) from Puerto Anapra. I want fried fish from the truck that used to set up outside my old office.

And boy, do I ever want jerk chicken, escoveitched fish and beef feet from a stand in New York ...

Friday Follow-Up, Part I

Tea: Chinese Melon Seed.

Music: Live, "Lightning Crashes"

Time: Night.

So, here's another cool moment from last night's First Friday outing.

I went to the Belger Arts Center for another look at the quilts exhibit I recently reviewed. (That review isn't out yet, but here is the Kansas City Star's story from a filmcentric perspective. While you're there, check out Rich Sugg's photos. Then get yourself down to the Crossroads and see the quilts for yourself.)

The artist, Sun Smith-Foret, was there, and we got to talking about art and movies and the like. Before long, she was showing me the backs of quilts that were hung against the wall, and pulling out and unfolding another piece that wasn't even on display.

Does that make me extra cool? Nah. Makes me pretty fortunate, I'd say. It's a fine thing to get a look behind the scenes -- or in this case, on the back side of the quilt.

Art Walk .. and Walk ... and Walk ...

Tea: Jacob's Dream

Music: Street drumming

Time: Almost midnight.

Another First Friday, and this one really got its hooks into me -- in a good way, that is.

I almost didn't go (headache), but roused myself in time to get down to the Crossroads by six. I figured I'd get in a few of the usual stops, collect some business cards for story ideas, and shut things down early.

Instead, I just got in and it's almost ... well, you saw the time in the header.

Life is, as they say, in the detours.

I'll post some links to the coolest stuff soon. Right now, I'm about to crash.

I will say that one of the highest points came early in the evening, at the Arts Incubator. Just to the right on the second level, there's a photo show with images from big cities around the country -- especially New York. (Rumor has it the photographer will be showing there next First Friday, too. Go check him out.)

The photos from New York took me back. Pretty soon, I think, it'll be time for me to be back in person.