Ravings of a Textual Deviant

It?s not often I get to use the phrase ?smooth vocal stylings? in a review, but I can?t think of a better way to describe a Leisure Kings show. Imagine, if you will, 80s pop music loungified?Vegas-style. Now, imagine that it sounds good. I couldn?t help but be reminded of my first impression of Moulin Rouge, which was that there was absolutely no way that it should have even worked?let alone been fabulous?but it did, and it was, and the world was a better place because of it. The only possible explanation, I concluded, is that a sufficiently talented artist can make anything work. Even if you normally steer clear of novelty acts and polyester (and really, what sensible person wouldn?t?) check out the Leisure Kings. Must be seen live to be believed and enjoyed.

Shameless plug: If you like this review, check out my other work at Shotgun Reviews.

Disclaimer: The keyboardist is an old friend of mine from high school–one of the few people from that foul abyss whom I actually want to catch up with.

“Basically, we caught Russia with Iraq’s lipstick all over its collar.”

There’s a visual for you.

It’s common knowledge that I’m evil. Not just a little evil, mind you, but really evil.

Alisa and I were hanging out and drinking tea after work yesterday. I came up with something especially devious–something that Alisa, who is most devious in her own right, hadn’t come up with. I grinned at her and said “Aren’t you glad that I’m not a lawyer, too?”

She looked right back at me. “You’re way too evil already without any professional training.”

By way of introduction, I’m a raving Toronto Maple Leafs fan. Have been for years. I love watching hockey, especially playoff hockey, especially a game 7.

Last night, Toronto eliminated themselves from Stanley Cup playoffs. Oh, there was another team on the ice, but Toronto did themselves in. Mind you, this is the same team that played an amazing game last night, against the same team, and won it. I am disappointed. Profoundly disappointed, and not because Toronto lost…not because Toronto lost badly…and not even because they lost badly because they shot themselves in the foot. I am disappointed because the same guys who played an exciting, intense game last night lost this game by shooting themselves in both feet and the ass before the end of the second period. They deserved to lose that game. Small children who had never seen ice hockey before could tell that they deserved to lose that game. I couldn’t stand to watch any more after the end of the second period.

Dorothea tells me that the Grand Ellipse has fans. Junkies, even. So, step up, Ellipse-watchers–who are you? How did you find out about the game? Comments? Questions? Opinions? Bring it on!

So, a few people who shall remain nameless have been wondering what’s going on in the Grand Ellipse. As one Ellipsoid is due to arrive in Irkutsk any time now, I have updated the Times. Mind you, the most recent issues have not yet made the journey to that isolated Siberian outpost, but what is there ought to keep you occupied for a good while.

Update: Alisa and Dorothea are already heating up the wires between Indy and Madison discussing the latest. Emails coming in fast and furious, while I sit back and enjoy. Dorothea doesn’t “see any point in positing more than one mole. That?s just paranoid.” Isn’t it, though?

Ingested this AM:

One prescription allergy tablet
One prescription PMS tablet
One Excedrin migraine tablet
One Excedrin PM tablet
One decongestant tablet
Three cups of tea

The next best thing to feeling better is feeling nothing. I’m surprised I’m still upright, but my head doesn’t hurt, my eyes don’t itch, I’m not sneezing, and I can stand to be in the same room as myself. Lucidity is overrated, anyway.

I always thought that if Jane Austen had written a housekeeping manual a la Mrs. Beeton, she’d have titled it Lawn and Laundry.

Well, perhaps not. But she ought to have done.

This weekend was fairly light on obligations, as these things go. The Big Project was to help Ed organize his notes for the A+ certification class he’s teaching. (The previous instructor was called up and sent to Bahrain on short notice, leaving neither syllabus nor lesson plans behind.) The plan is to create handouts with some helpful graphics, sample questions, and so on. It’s not difficult, as he’s creating the content, but it is time-consuming. I didn’t let it consume all my time, though.

My first priority for gardening this spring is to put something in where my extremely dead rosebush used to be. I have a circle of bare dirt and twigs approximately five feet in diameter, located at the southeast corner of the house. I’m going to put lavendar in the back, sage in front of it, then chives in front of the sage. All I have to do now is clean up the area and turn the soil. I have lavendar seedlings already, and sage and chives happily germinating in re-used yogurt containers, sitting in the greenhouse window. Also sitting in the greenhouse window are tarragon, basil, thyme, and oregano seedlings. In matching pots, no less. I’ve got some rosemary seeds going as well, which have a nice, big pot waiting for them. Still trying to decide what’s going to end up in the faux-Aztec planter; preferably something that can stay outside year ’round.

I also have a very large and inconvenient shrub at the southwest corner of the yard. It has a nasty habit of overgrowing the Stop sign on the corner, and it blocks the view of anyone trying to turn out of our cul-de-sac. It lost a rather large branch to the winter weather, so there’s now a big hole on one side of it. In late summer, it will go the way of the extremely dead rosebush. One of my friends has offered to put in tulip bulbs for me when she’s on maternity leave this fall, and I am happy to take her up on it. Thrilled, actually. By then, the lawn should be rather more presentable and with any luck, I’ll have managed to get some more landscaping rehabbed.

Just in time for Passover, the Ten Plagues in a charming, collectible set of snowglobes. Courtesy of Cathy. It’s a shame only two plagues are available so far…

So, here I am, out at the state Department of Revenue office for a meeting. When the meeting broke up for lunch, we opened the conference room door to find that someone had brought in a black bear cub. I think the woman who brought the cub in either works here or is related to someone who does, because she had brought it in specifically to show us. I gather that she raises them for zoos, trainers, and so on. I’m not keen on the idea of trying to domesticate wild animals (especially large predators) for the entertainment industry. Given the choice, I’d have been watching the cub and her mama through a good pair of binocs in a nice, big national park. However, getting to see her up close was way cool.

The cub, Lilly, was about 11 weeks old, and the size of my friend Sean’s adult pug dog. According to the person who brought her in, newborn cubs are about 6 ounces, or “smaller than Coke can.” Lilly’s still a baby, so her diet is puppy milk and peach baby food. The first thing I noticed was that she really did look exactly like a teddy bear, the way she was being held. When she was set down to explore, she was all over the place in a curious but careful way. Her behavior was somewhere between a cat and a puppy, although you’d never mistake her for either. She reminded me of a very young child–curious, intelligent, and eager to explore. A piece of glass set into the wall had her a bit confused, but otherwise, she seemed just fine, even with a crowd of people gathered around to watch her. She had her picture taken with one of the people who works here.

On one hand, I can see how an up-close-and-personal, controlled experience with a bear cub could be a very positive experience for a person. I admit to having a “oh, how cute!” reaction (which doesn’t normally happen with human babies) and thinking how adorable she’d be if she stayed small. I also had a flash of insight as to why people become naturalists. On the other hand, I can’t help but think it’s not that great for the bear, even one raised by and around humans. Perhaps especially one raised by and around humans.