RandomCha

Tonight’s film at the Outdoor Film Festival is “Invasion of the Body Snatchers.” I’ll be there. So will Andy. And hopefully so will Adam and Eric, though I haven’t gotten any hints on what kind of balloon to look for! (They stake out a spot and fly a balloon so that they’re easy to spot in the crowd). The contraband rum worked beautifully last time, so I’ll be repeating that again. I think I’ll try Dr. Pepper this time rather than Sprite Remix.

Avoidance of Market Days + walk to the lakeshore with Andy + sitting in the shade and reading,writing + walk home + nap + grilled chicken sandwich and a cool pint of Boddington’s

Because everyone is busy this week, and because the film this week is the heartfelt-but-somewhat-dull “Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner?” Andy & I will skip the Outdoor Film Festival till next week. Which will be “Invasion of the Body Snatchers.” Damn right I’m gonna be there.

I finished reading Barack Obama’s book “Dreams From My Father,” which he wrote in 1995. It’s currently out of print until September, when a new edition is coming out. But boy is it good. I unreservedly recommend it. To have such a gifted writer who’s ALSO going into politics is almost a miracle. I thought that kind of stuff didn’t happen anymore.

Yesterday Andy was so overheated that he couldn’t think. It took a laborious 15-minute discussion to decide to go to Stella’s frigid a/c for dinner. 3 days in a row eating out for us. That’s unusual. Along with getting a raise, sadly, comes the ability to blow through extra money with stunning ease.

The Jim White show Saturday night was wonderful. The Jim White part of the show, that is. Unfortunately he was sharing the bill with 2 other groups so he barely played for an hour. The highlight was probably a funky version of “If Jesus Drove A Motorhome.” I got cold feet and didn’t take a copy of the book for him, dammit.

Show was at the Abbey Pub, which was pretty so-so. It’s way-the-hell west, and the space is very weird. The floor where the stage is is completely open, and the second floor has extremely low ceilings which crummy sightlines. And the second floor is where all the “reserved V.I.P. seating” is. However: $15 tickets, which is increasingly rare nowadays.

Ahhhhh we have DSL back! I’s worse to go without broadband than it is to go without sex.

Tomorrow night it’s Jim White at the Abbey Pub. I’ll try and slip him a copy of my book. He’s always been real friendly.

When Nobel Peace Prize laureate JIMMY CARTER starts bashing you, you know you’ve done something horribly wrong …

“The Corporation” is a DAMN GOOD MOVIE. I know that EVERY generation feels, “Wow, we are truly at the crossroads of a new era,” but darn it seeing that movie a few weeks after seeing “Fahrenheit 9/11” I just think to myself, “Wow, we are truly at the crossroads of a new era.”

Really looking forward to Movies In The Park tomorrow night. See you there. If not, I’ll be in the Cook County jail.

As many of you know, these goons have been searching practically everyone who comes to the Chicago Outdoor Film Festival and confiscating any alcohol. Last Tuesday, I was a victim. Next week they’re showing “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington,” and in the spirit of Yankee ingenuity I don’t intend to be victimized again! If only we’d take a lesson from the UK, where you see people on the streets staggering about with their cans of Fosters all the time, and you DON’T see mass chaos as a result. But until we can change the system …

Here’s my plan. I shall make up a large thermos or two of completely NON-ALCOHOLIC punch. Or I shall simply bring some 2-liter bottles of suitable mixers (such as Hawaiian Punch, 7-UP, whathaveyou). If the goons harrass me, I’ll either say, “Be my guest, take a drink,” and shall offer them a glass of punch (which I doubt they’ll take), or I’ll merely point to my quite innocent 2-liters and say, “Sir, I only have these soft drinks.” They’ll wave me through.

HOWEVER, I will ALSO be carrying a six-pack of bottled water, still joined together with the plastic O-ring connector. Beforehand, I will gently open and empty three of the six bottles, still leaving said bottles attached with the connector. Using a funnel, I shall fill the now-empty bottles with either vodka (looks like water) or rum (also looks like water). When full, I merely screw on the caps tightly. And VOILA, I have a completely harmless looking six-pack of bottled water (half of which is actually alcohol).

Once I have made my way to the gathering of my dear friends, and the sun has gone down, and all is quiet and dim, I simply portion out the mixers and alcohol into cups. And it’s suddenly cocktail hour. As it should have been IN THE FIRST PLACE.

Do you think my plan will work?

The accounts payable girl, Wendy, came over to me this morning and very quietly asked me if I wanted in on a little secret. I said, yes, of course I want in, and then she made me swear to tell no one. Turns out she was discussing the office performance reviews with my boss (mine is next week), and since she puts together payroll she was able to see that I’M GETTING A RAISE.

Good golly Miss Molly, Lawdy Miss Clawdy, it’s a substantial one.

I really am going to have the highest-paid job in my life ever. I’m 28. I guess I nearly feel like an “adult” now. I fought “hard” to get a “cushy” office job, one like 80% of my “peers” already have. I know I’m doing a good job here and going the extra mile (sort of), so it feels great. Of course, it does come with some strings attached, the major one being that when I inevitably get tired of this job and/or it’s time to move on, I will feel nervous about being able to find something else that pays as well. Or else I’ll hafta suck up and downsize my lifestyle. I really hope that I can be humble and ready/willing to do that if something cool comes along.

But first things first. I feel pretty darn good right now. Andy left for Indianapolis this morning to see his family until Monday, so I might not be able to tell him for a few days. But still, he’ll be pleased.

Good news comes in clumps: Andy found out yesterday that HE IS ACCEPTED INTO DOMINICAN UNIVERSITY FOR A DEGREE IN LIBRARY SCIENCE.

It’s a perfect match-up: he’ll be working at the Newberry Library, and I’ll be selling him the toner cartridges he needs for all his printers.

I logged on to amazon today to just browse the listing for my book, and what should appear but … 2 very ambivalent reviews. From people I don’t know. Ouch. It hurts. But it also feels weird. I know that some strangers have liked the book, some have been unimpressed, but still it’s queasy hearing someone describe one’s book as “banal” and “underwhelming.” Especially on amazon.

I urge you, if you have read my book and if you liked it, please take a few moments and go to http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/0974149608/qid=1069394837/sr=1-1/ref=sr_1_1/102-8895392-0448913?v=glance&s=books and write a few kind words. It would be nice to get a back-and-forth going about the quality of 100SP.

It’s also weird to see it concurrently for sale at Powell’s Books online. Like a bidding war.

At least people aren’t yet trying to ditch their copies at bargain basement prices on eBay yet.

Hot and wet today. Well, the hot part I know for sure, but since when are the weather people correct about when it’ll rain?

50% chance, supposedly. I hope that Movies in the Park doesn’t get rained out tonight. I’m looking forward to having some (illicit) chilled white wine and watching “His Girl Friday” whilst spread out on a blanket.

Last night Andy & I had dinner at Stella’s Diner, mostly to luxuriate in their o-so-cold a/c. Then we had a stroll to Unabridged, I bought some clearance books, and we had some soft serve low fat “ice cream” at Treats.

Before bed Andy read me a short piece from the new Sedaris book about when he goes to see “The End of the Affair” with his partner Hugh, and how dull they’ve become after 10 years of being together. I regularly refer to David Sedaris as the “gay Andy Rooney,” but it was pretty funny, I hafta admit. There was certainly a lot I could relate to. About Andy and I. We’re steadfast and far from thrilling; we have our spats, our long-running frictions, but none of it is molten. Is this good, is it bad, is it beneign? I wonder about our future, and our future together. It’s increasingly harder to picture a future where he is not in my life. But nothing’s a given.