The Delaware Avenue bubbling goes on.
My neighbor has yet to dial the police. Percy remains confounded by the noise and scents emanating from the forbidden closet. I'm sweating about what happens when that steady gurgle stops.
Here are some items completely unrelated to that.
They grow up so fast ...
The Canadian geese that congregate at our office's retention ponds hatched their young a few weeks ago, and waddle awkwardly through the parking lot, delighting almost everyone until their masked parents turn aggressive.
Life moves fast in the animal kingdom - the goslings grow from tiny, fuzzy yellow creatures to gray, ugly and agitated, hissing at any pedestrians coming too close. Those ponds might stop stormwater runoff from construction, but they've created an ideal ecosystem for America's favorite nuisance bird.
Thank god for the box turtles and the occasional wild turkey running through the parking lot.
Ryman Relief
... I've skipped out on Marty Stuart's late-night jam twice, missed the last of Porter Wagoner, jumped at a journalism conference the weekend Lou Reed arrived, and been shut out of a Wilco pre-sale for the first time ever.
One year later, I finally have tickets to a show at the Ryman Auditorium, the first temple of country music. Better yet, it's a front-row balcony ticket to see The Raconteurs.
Better less, it's the first seat in the section farthest left of center - record company lowlifes swallow 75 percent of Ryman seats before they even go on sale.
So of course, it will probably still suck somewhat, despite Ticketmaster's claims of a full view. I'll cope, since it marks the first time Jack White has hit that famous stage since my infamous move - minus his surprise appearance with Bob Dylan.
It's a steeper price than the band's surprise shows at the Cannery Ballroom, but in the end, I think it will be worth the unofficial Ryman surcharge.
There's Nothing Brotherly About Half-Marathons
... I'm back on a running routine this week. Signing up to run a half-marathon in Philadelphia in late September ensures that.
I'll try a longer run on Sunday morning, and hope my knee understands what pain must come.
No comments:
Post a Comment