Category: suburbs

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What It Is: 4/19/10

What I’m reading: Finished that Philosophy of Andy Warhol, and read Jim Sturm’s Market Day and Jim Woodring’s Weathercraft, along with some stuff from the new issues of the Paris Review, Monocle, GQ, and MacWorld.

What I’m listening to: Stop Making Sense, Ta-Dah, and Oblivion with Bells.

What I’m watching: Season premiere of The Deadliest Catch, which felt a little too reality-show-y this time around. I’m sure that’ll fall away once they’re out a-crabbin’. I tried watching Julie & Julia with my wife, but found the present-day sequences so poorly written that I gave up and went over to my home office to lay out pages for my May ish. One of the big problems, beyond the sheer whininess of the lead character, is that her story seems to be about her travails as she tries to cook her way through all of Julia Childs’ cookbook in a year. But most of the cooking is glossed over in favor of the tenson of trying to keep up her blog and achieve some sort of success. However, we’re watching a movie about the blog and its writer. It’s pretty fucking clear that she succeeded at her project because we’re watching this movie. So the focus was utterly in the wrong place and the drama was non-existent. They should’ve focused on the technique of cooking and the revelation of her character through it. Or, as my wife points out, “You can’t really make blogging exciting on film.” But at least the NBA playoffs started this weekend. I’ll let you know how that goes when they wrap up in six months.

What I’m drinking: Not much, as I’m recovering from a sinus infection that led to just about the worst 30-hour stretch in my life. I’m much better now and will shortly commence to drinkin’.

What Rufus & Otis are up to: Getting ready to spend a few days with my pals Sharon & Doug, who promise not to let Otis eat any small dogs while we’re away (except maybe for the yappy one that lives next door to them).

Where I’m going: NYC for the Interphex conference. Several days in a hotel, in suits, inebriated!

What I’m happy about: My alma mater walloped some Navy ass at the annual croquet match. Also, I’m not trapped in Europe right now, unlike my production manager and my editorial director.

What I’m sad about: I’ll never be as smooth as John Barrymore.

What I’m worried about: Ru or Otis will do something embarrassing while they’re houseguests.

What I’m pondering: Why I didn’t become a policeman. (Oh, the real reason why is because I can’t grow a mustache. There! I’ve said it! Sob!) Also, what I’m going to read during my NYC stay.

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4 and 20 (thousand) blackbirds

On Saturday morning, whie Amy napped, I heard the CAW!s of The Blackbird Gang right outside my window. I took a look outside and discovered that our backyard was their newest turf:

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I was worried that blackbird-on-blackbird violence might lead to a drop in our property values, but the upside of roving gangs like this is that they never spend more than 10 minutes in one place. Really: hundreds of birds descended on our yard, filling the trees, noshing on our weeds, chattering away on a Saturday morning, and then one of them got the signal, and they all flew off.

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Why I live out here

The view of my backyard this evening, as we enjoy the last of the summer wine:

Also, I can play my music pretty loud.

(UPDATE: On the downside, when I was walking Rufus this morning c. 5:45 a.m., one of our neighbors warned me that there was a black bear further up the street. I guess the bears know when it’s garbage day, and plan their schedules accordingly. I do carry bear mace with me when I take Ru out, but I doubt my aim would be too good, esp. given the hour, the fog, and the fact that I’d also be holding a flashlight, Ru’s leash, and his bag of crap. In fact, the bag of crap might make for a better weapon than the bear mace.)