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I make no secret of the fact that I would rather lie on a sofa than sweep beneath it. But you have to be efficient if you're going to be lazy. |
Saturday, September 30, 2000
One year ago: Mating Rituals
Three years ago: Launch Window
I woke up early (for a Saturday), bathed, and woke up H--- so we could get on the road. I enjoyed listening to NPR along the drive, especially Car Talk. There's a reason why they have the most-highly-rated program in public radio! The cruise control in the Volvo worked great! I hadn't used it before because I'd been driving in the dark and didn't want to stop somewhere and study the controls. But now I know how to make it work. We stopped for breakfast at Macdonalds, bagel sandwiches. I especially like the steak bagel! H--- won a free extra value meal in the game they are running now.
We arrived around ten. A---- was home! I hadn't realized, since I'd left the house last night before I got one final email from Jack describing a difficult evening with her. She'd been released at the hearing on Thursday. Jack said that turning herself in was definitely a smart move.
* * * * * * * *
Jack proposed we go to the used bookstores in town for an afternoon outing. He'd buy any books the girls picked out. He really would like to encourage their reading, and H--- is in a program at school that gives you points for any book read over the course of this school year. I drove.
A---- is still in a dream world, perhaps she was just trying to get a rise out of her father: "What car will I drive when I get my license, now that we don't have the van any more?" He refrained from exclaiming "No car of mine!" but tried to refocus on her actually taking drivers ed, which doesn't seem likely to me.
I wasn't thrilled with the interaction between A---- and H---- in the back, poking, teasing. It was within the normal range of teen behavior, but it was irking me. I resolved to have A----- sit beside me on the next leg of the trip. (A---- next to her dad didn't seem like a great notion, either.)
I focused my book search: some P.G Wodehouse, a Georgette Heyer hardback, and a Bujold hardback. At our second stop, at the bookstores downtown (three on one block!) I called Jack's attention to the large shelves full of Dover Thrift Editions. Each is only a buck or two, classic literature and readable popular books of the past, so the girls could pick out as many as they wanted. Neither wanted any of these. H--- ended up with some Heinlein Young Adult novels, and A---- picked a few books on Wicca (a surprising new interest).
We stopped for a late lunch at Boomers, burgers, shakes, and fries. This place was a good independent drive-in (but I insisted on eating inside, not in my new car). A---- took off after eating, wanted to take the bus downtown. She had no patience to wait for it, though, and ended up getting in the car with us, to drive to the grocery store, where there's a bus stop with a shelter. But the weather was beautiful, and she was actually farther from downtown than where we were. Huh? She could have walked downtown and been there sooner.
* * * * * * * *
At the grocery store, we bought food for a chicken stirfry, and lottery tickets. It's eighteen million dollars! We're talking about real money here.
Back at the house, I started work with Jack on the long-awaited clearout in his bedroom. We needed to clear off the bed so H---- could have somewhere to sleep. He asked her (for pay) to clean and defrost the refrigerator and freezer the while. It really needed it!
I was truly pleased by what we got accomplished up there! A big bag of clothing to be gotten rid of. Hardware and papers that had been strewn across the floor (making walking hazardous) were stacked and sorted. I threw a lot of trash away. Jack did get tired of the task, and went to take a break. He wanted me to quit, too! But I was on a roll. Horizontal Surface Reclamation, hurrah!
A---- was back home in the late afternoon, made some no-bake cheescake in partnership with her sister, then left again.
Dinner turned out very well! Jack chopped most of the veggies (bell pepper, snow peas, kohlrabi, green onion), and I did the stirfrying myself. A bottle of szchezuan sauce helped -- both Jack and H---- like spicy food, and I can take a degree of heat. I'm slightly concerned that I couldn't find the lid for the rice cooker. It's glass; could it have gotten broken? We sat down and watched a video of The Lathe of Heaven while eating, and Jack even got a few loads of laundry done. A---- returned home before her curfew deadline.
There was a brief storm (shrieking, shoving, pounding the furniture) when A---- found out that her CD player wasn't working (I stayed out of the way), but it blew over.
A---- and H---- were asleep fairly early, so Jack decided that we should go see the Clumsy Lovers, who were playing at a club downtown. We got there around ten thirty, just as they were starting. I'll let him give his reaction:
I don't know about your yardstick folks, but for me the basic measure of whether a live band is good or not is my t-shirt. Mind you, I am not talking about how cool the band t-shirt is -- although that is important too -- I am talking about how hard it is to take off my t-shirt when I get home.
We can call this the stickyness index. If my t-shirt slips off without any effort, my armpits are dry as a Scotchman's wit and no trace of funk hangs about me then I know I didn't have a good time. It is clear that I just sat there and listened to the music, something I can do at home without having to breathe stale cigarette smoke and hear some guy talk about tractors. I might as well buy a CD of the band, but probably wouldn't like it much anyway.
But, if my t-shirt is clinging like a second skin and when I do finally manage to get it off I can wring out two or three cups of mixed beer and sweat -- well, that is when I know I had a real blast! When I know that this band has what it takes to get my old body boogying. That my sedentary soul somehow got into a live wire.
Clumsy Lovers is the second kind of band. They play the kind of music you just can't sit still for. The kind of music that fills the dance floor up so tight that everyone is dancing with everyone else because you can't even find your date anymore. The kind that gets even Jon shaking his booty. The kind that has me trying to do a combination of a hornpipe and an Irish jig while holding a sixteen ounce glass of beer (and trying, unsucessfully, not to spill it). The kind that leaves me with a t-shirt I need help to peel off...
You might say that this is my kind of live music. It doesn't matter to me that their music genre sounds like a mongrel mix of Celtic, Bluegrass and Rock. All that matters is that it is feel-good music with an irresistable beat played by a band that is obviously having as good a time as the audience. Oh, and the fiddler is one hot chick too!
Well, despite any comments about hot chicks, I liked the band also. I didn't really dance much (toetapping was the extent of it) and I did go sit towards the end of the evening, but that was because my right foot was bothering me a bit. It was very warm and smokey (the last time we saw this band it was a non-smoking venue).
The music made a good ending to a long but productive and fun day!
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