Wednesday, July 04, 2007

There were all sorts of plans in the works for a good, old-fashioned Independence Day throwdown in the Middling City.
However, the weather, all rainy and such, has put a literal damper on fuses short and long.
The rooftop party, the in-the-park party, the former outdoor grilling party moved indoors party all lost some of their respective lusters.
Someone the other day, and Yours Truly did not believe this, stated that these days there is only one MC venue for watching pyros in parks - Riverside Park.

* musical sidebar: Let us think now, right now, of Porno for Pyros, Perry Farrell's post-Jane's Addiction ensemble. Short-lived, but ear-worthy. "we'd make great pets" ... yeah!

Gone is the LaSalle Park hoopla where, Brucey and I reminisced today, we, along with a carful of others, watched the LaSalle barrage over the 190, stopped on the shoulder, police telling us via in-car p.a. systems - and other watchers - to move along lest we render our eyebrows short and crinkled.
We were that close, drifting ash from the casings in the air.
Today is the one day of the year that YT wears her Budweiser buddies, quite proudly.
They are fashioned so that when one steps into a wet media the Bud logo is left behind.
So in lieu of standing around a soggy grill YT has been working all day, as has been an occasional tradition.
Last night met out Annie and three of the Deck sibs at Hardware which was not, thankfully, full of live music. We meandered over to Staples where I discovered (although Annie knew the score) that there is oso much more space beyond the dark wood bar - an entire rumpus room stocked with mismatched tables and chairs, a grammar school-type screen, a few odd angles, an assemblage of odd-shaped doors.
Thinking suddenly of training for Iron Girl on Bastille Day: curls (arms, not hair), push-ups (arms, not underwire support), some scales (musical, not weighing), some perusing websites devoted to archiving lyrics, and ankle stretches.
Time to wander away from the laptop, to, as some are wont to say, merge again into the real world.
It is a patriotic, gray, verdant day and night.

Love of all things verdant.