Grab bag!

3.2.2kX

Well yeh, the drying-up of the idea spring that was not-living-in-LA-unmarried-no-kid has had terrible effect on these Venue Announcement rants and for that I'm rather ashamed. Not much fun in "I say hi to a giant tree when I bike past it every morning, woo!" which, sadly, is sometimes the extent of my excitement for the day (Ez and little wife antics and interactions NOTWITHSTANDING but who wants to hear all about them all the time?).

If you said, yes to the above question, I'll start the Grab bag! with a fun story about the playground. Sometimes we go to this swell playground that is decked out with climbing things, swings, bouncy things, grass, picnic tables and--thanks LA!--great weather. The only problem is the fuckin' jerk parents who supervise their mostly-cute kids. The adults come from the near-upper-crust or wanna-be-upper-crust and predictably act like they own the place. I saw one mom with I swear to god $100k-worth of diamond jewelry on her wrist, fingers, ear lobes and neck. Diamonds galore at a frikkin' playground. Srsly. What does she wear to Ralph's? Fur? Asshole.

Then, last Sunday, there was guy. Ez was running around and snagged a mini-soccer ball. Christi said, "No, Ez, that's not your ball," and guy said, "That's OURS!" He said it with attitude. I was immediately annoyed, so of course, every time I looked around, there was guy. At one point a different fella was trying to get a kite shaped like a dragon aloft. He was having a time with it, partly because people like Ez tracked the thing down when crashed and wouldn't let go. (Ez has quite an iron grip.) So guy says, loudly, "I gotta help this guy get it up," yuk yuk, and he goes over and assists. It's effective, but as he walks past the kite-pilot, replies to "thanks," with "I'll charge you later." I said, loud enough, "He probably will." Ha.

Thrilled speechless by that? Hey, I said I gotta dig deep for thrills and making a snide comment to a fuckin' jerk (It's OUR ball!) registers as a cheap thrill. Wanna hear about the roma tomatoes I planted? Nah.

I will tell you a fun one from this morning, though! I drove Jailbreak the Jeep to work so I could drop it next door for a good washin' (Ez cheezed the back seat but good a couple weeks back and I needed some help decheesing.) So I'm approaching the four-way stop where I turned left to the car wash and approaching the opposite, oncoming stop was a taxi van. I could see that the guy inside had a gypsy-like shrine in the front seat with shit hanging from the ceiling, magazines, newspapers and coffee cups all over the dash, something on the rear-view -- a real collection. And I can tell you I've been in enough cabs like that to know that these veteran cabbies, these Lifers that live in their taxis PUSH OTHER DRIVERS AROUND.

Knowing this the instant of seeing him, and noting that he and I were going to get to the intersection at exactly the same time, I knew that he would not yield to my signaled turn. Sure enough, he hit the gas as I started to make my turn and kept coming, surely expecting me to yield, which I did not! Ha! He blared his horn and gave me a look like I'd just fucked his cat so I looked him right in the eye and said, "FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK YOUUUUUUU!" in a way that if he could not hear me, he positively knew what I said. Then I laughed. Fukn pushy cabbie. ha!



Tonight - Bloom's Saloon.



bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!