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25
Feb 20

What do you think Gerald is really like?

Last night Phoebe yawned at all the wrong times. And, otherwise, couldn’t be bothered to cooperate. That blanket is cozy. So cozy that this is how she wants to be cuddled.

I wonder how that will work in the spring and summer after they are accustomed to a long winter. She can’t be bothered to worry about that in between her naps though.

But dig those two little freckles on her nose.

We went to Chipotle for lunch today — this is a problem with it being a block-and-a-half away. You visit a lot. Gerald is still causing havoc:

So the last four times we’ve been there — again, a block-and-a-half away — something has been out of order here. Got my order wrong, too. Gerald’s attention to detail is catching. At least they had forks this time?

Believe me, if I knew this Gerald character was going to become a real and so blatantly reoccurring thing I would have created a full backstory for him.

He has one, of course, he’s the third shift leader in charge of drinks at the local Chipotle. The rest is going to write itself. But I should have started detailing that aloud. If this keeps up I’m going to have to, aren’t I?

Television tonight. In addition to the two shows, they had a comedy troupe do a bit of improv. So the gimmick here is that everyone is in on the bit except for the woman in white. She left the studio while the improvisational bunch got a person, place and activity and she had to figure it out based on the context clues of Sarah’s inner characters.

To see the whole thing, which should be online soon, is to get the whole joke. It’s pretty clever, really. But, mostly, I’m impressed that the show that invited them in is now doing different little things every day. Last week they had the furry exotic animals, the week before they had musicians and they did a food feature the episode before that. It’s always nice to see the student shows feeling empowered to spread their wings, and to keep doing it. Better than doing the same thing over and over.

Chili tonight. And a lot of shouting on TV. Only some of it the debate.

We’d been having a conversation, as television people, about how you might obscure the other candidate from scoring points. Because, as we know, the real impact of a debate isn’t about the night of, but about the replay, the day after. Or, these days, the social media clips and the next day’s television replays. If you’re a producer, you’re looking for glib and pithy lines that fit in an appropriate length. You want clear audio. Not a lot of crosstalk.

So, really, if you’re getting whupped on the campaign station, turn it into a continual shouting match. And the closer we get to votes that are sincerely impactful the substance of the “debates” becomes less and less substantive. Sounds like the country of late, really.


24
Feb 20

Leave room for cream?

Friday night we saw Bert Kreischer, who is as clever and frat-tastic as ever. He played two shows at Butler, and we stood outside in about 20 degree weather until almost the published curtain time, which meant the actual start was, of course, later. Someone said he started the first show late, and that it went long. So the rest stood to reason. That meant we were going to get extra comedy, but first we had to move seats. Because I sat in the wrong row. Joke’s on me!

Anyway, the show was terrific. If you like bawdy material it works. He can put the whole room in his hand and give them whatever he wants. The crowd control of it all might be the most interesting thing. They’re just stories. Stories he’s spiced up for maximum impact, and often even the tangents are deliberate, but how he can hold a room for 90 minutes just telling tales is interesting.

Near the end he basically took requests, because he’s reaching some interactive iconic level of comedy now. I assume that’s owing one part to his talent, but another to the times in which we live, how there are bits online everywhere, and how he has embraced the intimate part of fandom that social media creates as a bit of his act.

And of course he has to tell The Machine story because, as he said Friday night, a Facebook version of that story changed his life and put him where he is today, which is selling out shows across the country and about to premiere his third Netflix special.

The Facebook version of The Machine story works, he said, because the Facebook algorithm put a key, but unnamed player in the actual story as a top commenter and she verified the whole thing. You can look the whole story up on YouTube. It’s 10 minutes or so long, and if you like bawdy, over-the-top humor, you’d find it amusing.

If that’s not, however, your thing … errrmmmm … here are two quick cycling videos!

The Yankee got her tri bike. And this weekend she braved some cool temps and finally gave it a try. (It’s a cruel thing to buy yourself a bike in February and wait.) The fit isn’t there yet, but she looks pretty pro, don’t you think:

If that one is a little blurry I blame my upload connection and her speed.

But watch this one, she’s coming right out of the screen!

I’ll never be able to keep up with her on that thing.

Also, it is my turn to buy a bike. Hmmmm …

I should mention this:

Yesterday we had sun for a record-breaking fifth day in a row. I don’t remember the last time we saw the sunshine for five consecutive days. Maybe November, for sure in October, if I had to pick a definitive time. Certainly it has never happened here in February. Yesterday, even, we got all the way up to 56 degrees — making for an excellent afternoon for a run. Maybe this sort of weather will happen some more.

It rained all day today. We’re due for snow on Wednesday.


21
Feb 20

We are leaving the week behind

Quite a few years ago we impulsively pulled into a Sonic. I feel silly saying that because, really, how often does one pull into Sonic as part of a plan? We’re coming back from the beach and decided we wanted blizzards. We parked, the guy’s voice came over the little speaker and we placed our order, feeling a little like we were in a different era. Maybe they’d skate our snacks out to the car. Maybe it would be just like you imagine.

We aren’t Boomers and the guy wasn’t a carhop. He shuffled slowly, painfully, aimlessly, like there was nowhere to go. Like he didn’t know which of the other empty spaces this order was supposed to go. Like he didn’t know what to say.

“We’re out of spoons. Can I interest you in a fork?”

The blizzard is an ice cream with a thick viscosity, but, no, you can’t interest me in a fork. (We went to the drive-thru at the McDonald’s next door and said they’d forgotten our spoons and they, of course, gave us two.)

That was the precise wording, though. “Can I interest you in a fork?” So polite and, yet, absurd, that we committed to memory, added it to the lexicon and turned it into a perma-punchline.

The Sonic orbited a grocery store. I just measured the distance on Google Maps. It is 618 feet away. So my near-incredulous “Walk across the parking lot, walk into that Publix and buy a box of plastic spoons,” remains on point.

Today I got to make the joke again. Because we went to Chipotle (again) and they were out of forks.

Chipotle on Kirkwood, I observed, should join forces with the Sonic on Whitemarsh Island. Between them, they could maybe they could put together a full set of plasticware.

Have you ever tried to eat rice with a plastic spoon? It can be done, but you shouldn’t try to do it if you can help it.

Also, that same out of order note has moved down the line.

Gerald, the fictional third shift leader in charge of liquid refreshments, really is the worst.

Here’s the classic Friday evening photo. See ya, work week:

There’s not much better than putting it all in the mirror, is there? And sometimes if the car is pointed in the right direction you get lucky with the sideview.

One of the few things better? Terrific pizza:

We went to Indianapolis for the night, which meant we went to nearby Carmel for a decent pie. Because, again, in a college town with 46,000 students, you can’t get a superlative slice. Mellow Mushroom should always be closer. We’d be there every week.


18
Feb 20

To get us through a Tuesday

Since we’re trying to mentally stretch out weekends around here, and since we were just talking about the sky and the weather and all of that. This is what it looked like during Saturday’s late afternoon run:

Not too bad. Sunday was an even more picturesque day. The Yankee had a rest day planned, but she said “You should go for a run and enjoy it.”

Meaning the weather, I think, which is more likely than enjoying the run. It looked like this:

And so I got in five quick miles. Quick for me. At one point I was running a 6-minute-and-change pace. During several phases I had a comfortable seven-minute mile pace. And then my legs or my lungs would remember I’m not a teenager anymore.

After a run like that, though, you get to use the compression boots. And so I did enjoy that this evening, and it inspired my last Valentine of the season:

Something about all of this meant I was a trending topic on Twitter:

It wasn’t me, but The Jet. This happens from time to time. I’m going to claim it anyway, of course.

Tonight, we had to move around one of the cats’ play things. They protested, as cats do, by sitting on it:

Sit-ins have a long tradition of respect. You wonder if the animals have been checking things out on Wikipedia when you aren’t looking. Maybe there’s more to it than you realize when your pet does the “I know you don’t want me in here, but I’m going to flop down, roll over, go cute and limp” routine. It could be a powerful social statement, when the cat tries to get into your closet.

Go check me out on Twitter, I might be trending! And there’s more on Instagram as well.


17
Feb 20

There’ve been worse weekend ideas on Mondays

There’s a difference between personality and style. Personality, at its most basic, demonstrates characteristics that help the rest of us distinguishes one character from another. You can see this in siblings. You can see it in twins. Style, meanwhile, is a way of doing a thing. I am talking about the connotation of style that is to do that thing in an appreciable way. Appreciable in the sense of I see the nature of how you handled that, and I admire, sir or ma’am, your elan. Style.

This cat has personality, at the very least:

That personality is usually: Let me aggravate you as much as possible with my understanding of where you don’t want me and my immediate, continual and pressing need to always be in or on those places.

His sister, who I managed to take just one picture of this weekend, has a style. She’s aloof and insistent on very much having her way in controlling whatever is going on. Not in a bad sense, it’s just about her terms. And if you can’t oblige that, well, she needed to be somewhere else right now, anyway.

Here was my original Valentine e-card on Saturday:

And here’s a picture from Saturday’s run:

It was a nice-enough day. Generally cloudy, occasionally a bit of sun, and finally warmed up to 43 degrees. Still that snow, though. So we had a nice easy neighborhood run, and then ran through the next neighborhood, too. Got about four miles out of it, and in no particular hurry.

More from the weekend to pad out our tomorrow. Hey, if your weekend goes to fast, just look back on it with a fond nostalgia for the next two days. Then, before you know it, you’re already at Hump Day. You’re going to spend your Thursday and Friday thinking about the next weekend anyway …