express lane

To open the tab I put forth that after a few middlin' albums, Bruce Springsteen has jumped the abyss and put out something worthy of his talent (note: some of that opinion was swiped from other music critics). I don't know that I can really hit him too hard since 35 years in music and a Rock n' Roll Hall of Fame induction is a hard life to exceed. In fact, if one considers Born to Run (1975) then he had nothing left to offer. It's a long road after seeing your fourth album reach that peak and somehow keep going. "The Seeger Sessions" is what he's forever been about, and to hear him do Pete's songs...so lively, so powerful, and so attacking the music is a wonderful thing.

(new episode)

Follow me. I'm in a store (TJ's, Wild Oats, Whole Foods, Super Wal-Mart, Raley's...) and I walk up to a register with the following in my hand-held basket:

olives
feta cheese
gyoza
a package of frozen salmon
a loaf of bread
bottle of wine
fresh sage

That's it. That IS an express line purchase. Actually, that's a European shopping at the markets of Venice, Florence, Barcelona, Paris, Stockhom.... I'm off along some tangent. There is NO way that "up to 20 items" is an express line...no WAY. Eight or less is the only thing that qualifies for express. 20? What? It runs parallel to the airlines deciding that the average human weight is 180 lbs. instead of the 150 lbs. of years ago, or that driving a gas-sucking EscalaHummer is okay simply because it's big and more (don't even get me started on gas prices), or living at the nearest Mall. More or bigger isn't acceptable. Here's the list of goods toted by the 'dude' in front of you at the express lane:

5 lb. mayonaise tub
package of frozen salmon
flatpack of 24 cans of dietary dog food
24 pack of toilet paper
DVD collection of the O.C. (first season)
case of fully-leaded Coke

(stay the course)

bonus collection of Extra Strength Sudafed cold medicine (card required to avoid production of crystal meth)
a sixer of PBR
the big plastic (3 lb.) container of HydroxyCut
one pair of cargo shorts
one package of wife beater t-shirts
one shirt sporting the logo "Slot Machine"

(still going)

a 2lb. circular tube of Red Laces
a 24-eyelet pair of shoelaces
one package of extra large condoms
the "Pauly Shore is Dead" DVD
one frozen package of Blueberry Eggos
lastest issue of "O" magazine (for the wife...is that Oprah on the cover?)

(almost done)

one jar of hamburger pickles
a case of 40W oil for the rig

Wow. That's done. That's express. That's America.

I can love. I'm not difficult

kisses to all

t

objectively speaking

This is it. I must put this out to the world. Must. There is only one side to the baggage claim discussion ---- There is no reason to stand with your shins against the baggage carousel...no reason. Honestly, I always stand back and watch the incoming portal of luggage from a nice distance. I long for my bags to pass through the dragging black carwash-looking things just like everyone else, I too live in suitcase hope. When I see my kit I step forward, take my bag, and walk away. See how easy that was? What is it with people and the claim? Of all the actions I see humans engage in, this is the most lemming-like. If only there was a cliff nearby that all the luggage t*&^s could trundle off...

Hey, back from Omaha. The travel scoobies (beyond the claim) involve my return flight from Omaha to Reno. Don't laugh, but my connection was via Chicago. It happens. Thunderstorms in Chi-town so we end up on the Omaha runway for four hours. Add an additional hour to the one hour flight and I miss all connections to Reno. A long story made shorter...I get comp'd a hotel and meals in Rosemont, Ill. and make it home Monday afternoon. That's that.

Laurel and I had the blast that one would expect. The temp was in the 90s until Easter morning when it dropped 35 degrees to the mid-50s. We dressed up and had dinner at Trovato's in Dundee, saw movies, played games, miniature golf (I won by 30 strokes, snap!), batting cages (she CAN hit), discussed insurance and premiums, had the salmon/magic tater dinner, crepes one morning, video arcaded, did endless logic problems, watched her DVD collection of The Muppet Show (season 1), and generally thought life was swell. She's at 4'10'' and way too heavy to lift or throw across her bed. She and Melissa are off to Kearney this weekend for the Future Problem Solvers competition. In case you raised the eyebrows at the insurance and premiums above...we were studying for the comp, I'm not that lame. There's a pic at Trovato's (note her original Liz Taylor necklace designed at Anne's house) and a shot of her driving one to the gap, as if Barry Bonds has anything. A lovely girl.

I'm reading Devil in the White City about the 1893 Chicago World's (Columbian) Fair. I'm still liberal. Still tall. I like a nice wrap with falafel, hummus, spinach, and romesco. That's all.

t

dodger

Since everyone 'seems' to be keeping up with my morning ride, and the dog posse therein, it'll be easy to play this story. Before I go further I need to trundle back to Omaha, circa mid-70s. I used to hang around Rockbrook Pool up 'round 108th and West Center Road...the real edge of the city back then. (Go to Omaha now and we'll drive out 300th St.-way and see how it's exploded.) We WERE the suburbs and our community pool was the cool place to be for a ten-year old. I used to ride my classic Schwinn Stingray (no gears/bendix brakes) to the pool everyday in the summer so I could check out the hot fifth-grade girls (does Kim Oberkrom ring a bell? thought so...). One afternoon I was riding my bike home with our neighbor, Brock, on the back of the banana seat when the Burns' dog, Duke, decided to chase a car (or me). There was nowhere to go so the 'Ray runned right over that damn beagle's back (picture a cartoon with a dog being almost busted in half...) and we ended up over the handlebars and across the pavement. Didn't seem like much (kids are resilient) but when I looked down I had a lovely gash on my inner left elbow that ran to the bone....then we panic. Wrapped the towel around my arm and made it the remaining few blocks home. In my defense, there was no choice but the chlorine soaked towel since the only other possible cloth was my beloved stars-and-stripes Speedo...address all smartass comments elsewhere. Damn if I didn't hate that dog, but it WASN'T intentional. From that to this...

On the ride to work a few weeks back (dark morning) I was challenged by a huge white dog that I hadn't seen in a good, long time. I vaguely remember this massive tuft of fur during the dark of some long ago Winter morning but it's been months since he's shown up on the road. He was back, or awake...take your pick. You now know I have dog-bike experience (see above), hospital experience (stitches...see above), but it does no good in the end. I immediately thought about trying the NASCAR tactic of steering straight at that clump of fur, assuming he wouldn't be there by the time our paths intersect, dogs don't do geometry. You've got to figure that a dog this big can't stop and hold ground once it's got a head of steam. As bad as the driving at a wreck idea seems to be, I think it's good advice...and normally it works out just fine. So here comes 'Saurus (now named) at an aggressive lope across my bow and I immediately....decide to wait and see just how agile this lug can be. Holding the straight line like Luke Skywalker in the first Star Wars...stay on target, stay on target. But no, I've found the one dog over seventy pounds that has ANY agility; he pauses, makes another move, and bounces back to center road. What? I make a very quick adjustment (based on my Formula Ford training) and narrowly escape death. Experience counts...not sure how, but it does.

Hey, there's a beagle in that picture...and the dreamy Speedo
love to all

big, hungry (now!), can't act

A few bits that are wedged in my brain from the last week. Let's start with the Nissan Armada; are we serious? When the world has decided that a SUV needs to named after a FLEET then we've just pitched it all over the cragged abyss. Does anyone need anything that big? I know, throw your spears to the left, I think I'm right on this one. The Armada? Some future suggestions might be: the SixthFleet, the Nimitz, PrincessCruiseLine, the QEII (I'm sure Infiniti will grab that one). I just want my due when they show up on our streets. In fact, maybe one vehicle isn't enough. We should seriously consider a formation of vehicles (a flotilla?) to get us from A to B. "Hey kids! Get in your dinghy ship-come-vehicle and follow Ma and Pa to the Mickey D's!" I'll leave that one. I did my shopping this afternoon and stumbled upon the GREATEST thing EVER invented. Ever. Fully cooked bacon; as advertised, "ready in five seconds!" FIVE SECONDS! FIVE!, "Hey baby, off to work and I only have ten seconds...make me two batches of that kicking bacon..." First, who is in such a hurry that they need bacon in five seconds? [a nod to Lewis Black who points distainfully at the eight-second PopTart instructions...] Second, can we eat in shifts; kids first (five seconds) with scalding bacon grease dripping down their chins; teens next (another five); adults (up to 15 seconds now)...let's go to South Beach and open our arteries. I know it's patently unfair to move from serious world affairs to Hilary Duff, but I must. Returning my movie at the local after the groceries (it was "Everything is Illuminated") and had a chance to watch ten minutes of Hilary's acting in "Raise Your Voice". (Don't even start on the ten minute thing, I won't have it.) As if I didn't have enough ammo to throw out at the masses; this is the motherlode. What talent. What skill. Amazing. If that is what's on offer at the multiplex then I insist you come with me...kicking and screaming.

I must be making risotto again....too much time to think. Tonight is a nice shrimp leek dealio.

I'll be nicer next time, really

hugs to all

t