This was the actual anniversary day, but the celebration was scheduled for Sunday, so we really didn’t do much of anything except have lunch at an overpriced restaurant which was way too pretentious for Greensboro (or me). It was pretty, though.
Dinner at the K&W Cafeteria. They didn’t have chicken pie. I was disappointed.
My parents have been married for fifty years. That’s longer than I’ve been alive. And yes, I do realize the irony of that statement. I also realize that some people may not find it ironic at all.
Anyway, I ventured home for the big occasion. There was a lot on the agenda this trip, both scheduled events, training Mom on her new iMac, and my desire to talk with Mom and Dad about what my next home town should be, San Francisco no longer being an option. It was not a relaxing vacation.
I didn’t sleep at all the night before, probably because I was sacred I wouldn’t wake up in time for my obscenely early flight. Therefore, I was a little cranky and tired all day. Not being able to smoke on the cramped plane didn’t help either. And food? What food? I didn’t eat anything significant until I hit the Burger King in the Saint Louis airport for a week-old Whopper. Extra points, though, to Saint Louis for having convenient and plentiful smoking rooms.
Mom and Dad met me at the Raleigh airport (the one I imagine Andy and Opie used to fly to Hollwood). We took a shuttle to the next county where they had to park and headed for Greensboro by way of the Apple House Cafeteria in Burlington (in the mall formerly known as Holly Hill). I was in bed by 11.
I really don’t have much to say tonight. I found this lovely tidbit at the Super K-mart in Oakland last night when Dan, Jamie and I popped in after dinner. It’s hard to beat the Super K-mart for late night fun. We spent almost two hours there. I bought cookies. Jamie bought socks. Dan bought gum. But it’s not about the purchases. It’s about playing with all the toys and looking at all the strange synthetic blends in the clothes.
This afternoon, I finally took the official version of Did You Bring Bottles live just in time to feature my timely obituary for Lucky Stores. The idea of shopping at Albertson’s is without any sense of fun. Albertson’s sounds like it should be the name of a feed store.
And last night, I had an unexpected quick dinner with out-of-town friend Jim. He gave me an animated mouse pad and the video which I’ll be watching in a few minutes. He too felt the awsome power of Millineos.
Today, I went driving in the rain. It was wonderful.
Not much else going on. I’m preparing for my trip to North Carolina on Thursday to help Mom and Dad celebrate 50 years of wedded bliss (and to see how many relatives ask me when I’ll be celebrating ANY wedded bliss). I’ll try to do an update or two from there on Mom’s new Mac, but I ain’t making any promises.
Anybody got a spare parking space for my car while I’m gone?
I’m never making an appointment with the DMV again. I called for one this morning. The earliest one available was next Thusday at 2PM. Since this matter really couldn’t wait that long, I decided to risk the Friday afternoon lines. I was in and out within 20 minutes. Time saved by NOT making an appointment: 5 days and 23 hours.
California’s a strange place with respect to driver’s license renewals. To start with, you don’t leave with an actual new license. You leave with a piece of paper clipped to your old one. The new one comes in the mail few weeks later. So much for instant gratification.
Of course, you can always renew by mail, which is what I tried to do in the first place. Thanks to the US Postal Service, however, my check and form are probably now in Oregon somewhere. The thing about renewing by mail is that you end up with the same picture for a decade or so. This is known as the “Dorian Gray Reversal Syndrome”. You age, but the picture stays young.
They must use the same system for newspaper obituary photos, which would explain why that 80-year-old woman who just died in Antioch or Fairfax doesn’t look a day over 40 and still has a big beehive hairdo.
Coming soon: my horror at the fact that my Lucky supermarket on Allemany has suddenly become an Albertson’s.
Y’know, I really didn’t intend for the gastrointestinal journal entry to be on the front page for quite so long, but it’s been a hectic couple of days. That would explain all the email I haven’t answered too. Partially.
Anyway, it looks like a pretty good election this year. Most of the ballot initiatives are going my way, including all the ones I felt strongly about. For the third time, we’ve voted on the fate of what’s left of the Central Freeway. It’s now two votes to one in favor of demolition. Can we tear the damned thing down now or do we have to go for best three out of five?
But the big story, of course, is the success of Tom Amminano’s campaign. For a write-in candidate to recieve 25% of the vote after a two-week campaign speaks volumes about San Francisco’s disgust for the arrogance and sell-out politics of Willie Brown, who managed to pull in only 38% himself. Should be an interesting run-off.
A few random links du jour which I’ve been meaning to add for a while:
Looking forward to getting a lot of sleep this weekend…
I may have finally found the best bar jukebox in all of San Francisco. The bar surrounding said jukebox is Lucky 13 on Market Street. I was there tonight at a going away party for a friend who’s escaping Kinko’s (at least for a while). There are few things more wonderful than forcing an entire bar to listen to “Let’s Have a War” by Fear. I love livin’ in the city.
There was a joke embedded in that last sentence. Most people won’t get it. I’m comfortable with that.
David’s funk seems to have lifted, you may be thinking. Alas, it’s not true. I’m just masking it better. There could be denial involved. Who knows?
All I know is that now, in addition to being depressed and insomniac, I’m having to face the fact that I may be (shudder) lactose intolerant. I’ll spare you the scatalogical details and just say that consuming Count Chocula now seems to come with a price. I haven’t yet tried any of that stuff from those commercials I used to laugh at. Suggestions welcome, as long as they don’t involve soy milk.
Gee heck. I’m just falling apart, huh? Yeah, I know. Most of the world’s population would kill to have problems as insignificant as mine. That’s small comfort when I have a case of the trots and I’m out of Charmin, dammit…
I never saw “The Rocky Horror Picture Show”. It’s been almost twenty years since I first even considered it. I lied to my parents on New Year’s Eve 1979-1980, saying that’s where I was headed. I ended up getting drunk for the first time instead.
All my friends in high school and even into college had seen it, many of them numerous times. None of them could believe that I never had. After a while, I started seeing it as a sort of badge of honor. I decided I’d never see it. I consciously avoided it on video and anyplace else. It became sort of an understated running gag.
Tonight, I decided “enough is enough”. I sat down to watch it for the very first time on VH-1. I was even a little excited.
After about 45 minutes, I realized I’d completely lost interest and changed the channel. I didn’t get it, it wasn’t funny, and I just didn’t care. This isn’t my “cerebral inner critc” speaking. God knows, I watch some flat-out crap and absolutely love it. Maybe you just need to see “Rocky Horror” in a theatre full of intoxicated 18-year-olds in order to fully appreciate it. Or to appreciate it all.
Color me severely disappointed after a 20-year wait. But at least I can still say I never really saw “The Rocky Horror Picture Show”.
While I’m at it, here are some other defining cultural moments of my generation which I’ve missed:
I’m so ashamed…
Just try to think of a better October Friday night than eating pizza and then puking it all up at a carnival in a mall parking lot in Hayward. We didn’t really puke, but we did see a cute carny boy, and I do still have leftover pizza for breakfast…
Friday night rituals over the years:
There’s a message here. I’m not sure if I know what it is or if I want to hear it.
Love my Planet SOMA family. No less than five people pointed me to this article in Salon today, knowing that it would be right up my alley given its familiar theme.
I’m finally ‘fessing up about Road Trip 99 now. Firstly, it’s been downgraded to Plane Trip 99 and will pretty much involve nothing much but North Carolina. Unfortunately, I have neither the time nor the money to spend my customary three or four weeks on the road this year. So off I go on TWA, to spend some quality time with Mom and Dad on their 50th anniversary.
But that’s not for a couple of weeks.
For now, I’m just excited that it rained last night. It’s almost November. The rainy season is almost here. My mood should improve considerably. Yes, I’m a freak. Yes, I’ve considered moving to Seattle because of the rain rather than in spite of it. Yes, sunshine depresses me as a rule.
Things I love this week:
Things I hate this week:
