understated civic engagement has been our unofficial theme for the past several days. on thursday we had tickets to the colbert report: i expected an all-palin show, as i'd seen something on colbert's website about endorsing her for president and she'd given her speech to the RNC on wednesday night, but our half hour was equal parts convention criticism, palin material (an interview with the remarkably game creator of draft sarah palin for vice president), and ron paul interview. such a winning kook, that ron paul! like jon stewart, colbert is charming in person - more so, perhaps, since his character compels him to amuse the audience at all times (he groomed his makeup artists as they walloped him with concealer between takes and made eyes at us as he studied cue cards). the production assistants were very aggressive about making the distinction between Colbert in Character and pre-show colbert - those few minutes before the cameras rolled were our only chance to rap with The Real Stephen, man, and we were not to forget it. i suppose that means that our interstitial entertainment was ironic, but i like to tell myself he's a coy man either way. the audience was small - about 100 of us, compared to the 200 or so who see the daily show - which was nice and intimate, though there was less collective body warmth to compete with the arctic conditions in the studio (seriously, are the lights really that hot?). i would go again, though joe feels that we should try to see other shows for the first time before repeating. conan o'brien? saturday night live? contemplating my next move.
on saturday evening we thumbed our noses at the hanna-related storm and headed out to sound fix records in williamsburg for the burg for barack, a bake sale / silent auction / miniconcert to raise funds for obama. it's sort of weird to watch a group reclaim their stereotypes:* as the ethereal songstress who came on first noted, "we're all doing what we can to get this man elected! we can bake cupcakes, and...there are a lot of good-looking people here tonight...and we can listen to indie rock!" we (read: joe), in turn, can eat baked goods like nobody's business, and the lemon bar i took down for obama was excellent. it was also oddly pleasurable to dig around in my pockets on the way out, discover that we had money left after cookie-buying, and dump said money in the collection box on the way out. "merf merf crowdnoise," said the woman at the food table when we passed her in the silent auction." "what?" i replied." "you two are just the happiest people," she repeated. "you smile all the time." that's a first for me, internets (like generations of women in my family, i am famous for looking angry): apparently this election is good for my soul.
sunday was the broome street block party, an event our friend melissa organized with sponsorship from transportation alternatives. she worked her ass off putting the afternoon together, and it turned out wonderfully: the street was covered with chalk drawings by the time we got there, ice cream-covered kids were ricocheting around the block like sticky little superballs, and a decent crowd gathered when the musical acts (including melissa's band, last year's model) got going. as is customary, i refused to dance, but i had an excuse: i donated blood at the health fair down the street (the poor van people only had four other donors all day; they tried to get me to take a sack of the surplus snacks they'd brought, but i couldn't inflict reduced fat cheez-its** on an unsuspecting public with a clear conscience). by the time i got back from the blood van, joe had patronized most of the nearby eateries (the roasting plant, doughnut plant, babycakes). i accused him of being pregnant and then made him queue with me at gus's pickles; he retaliated by going back to babycakes. so dancing would have been difficult for a couple of reasons.
now joe is covering for his counterpart down in washington DC, and i have switched to salad and salon. how was your weekend?
*very 2001: a space odyssey, really.
**dear blood banks of america: if you're going to give the people fruit punch and regular old cookies, you might as well give them the real cheez-its. even mayor mike eats them.
8 comments:
Good. David accused me of selling out, since I checked my irony at the door on a visit to Café Gratitude with a friend (Their food is great. Well mostly. Some of it tastes like actual dirt. But usually it's pretty easy to guess). Then lots of sun, the camera Obscura, and a trip to the Marin Headlands. Sadly, David would also not go salsa dancing with me, when a old friend I ran into on the street told me about his gig. But! I will overcome. One of these weekends.
The weekend was nice. My friend Bob just became a pop -- please welcome to The Show young Cooper James Ives, coming to us at 8lbs 10oz (yowza). Born a Yankees fan, which can't be helped, but word is he is super-cute. All are well.
Only down note is that Ma is royally peeved at the Obama campaign for not hooking her up with buttons per her request. She seems to get, however, that there are bigger problems in the world than not getting Obama merch.
And sorry to burst your bubble, but blood banks here in Chicago have high-end cookies/crackers and full bottles of Vitamin Water in the fridge. Lap of luxury, I tell ya.
weekend, meh, how 'bout just sunday? hung with audrey (pal from 5th grade, just moved back to so cal from atlanta). we hiked, her stepmom made us lunch, we napped, her dad bought us wahoo's. pretty dang awesome if you ask me. next sunday will be half over by the time i get to you, thank you 6-hour flight and 3-hour time difference. let us dine somewhere magnificent to make up for it--you know that those blue potato chips aren't going to stave the hunger!
my weekend included a closely fought and rather brutal indoor soccer league game. we won, 5-4 - i scored one goal and suffered a mild rug burn from being pushed to the turf. people: this is supposed to be the "C" league - mildly competitive, not the fucking NFL.
on sunday i rode in my first cycling century (the flattest century in the east [tfce]) - 100 miles (actually, 102) through southeastern MA and RI's east bay. lots of scenic ocean views. the first 50 miles or so were not too bad - i'd been "training" by doing 50 mile rides every sunday with the local club. the worst stretches were miles 50-60 and 75-90 - not coincidentally, the miles just after rest stops. i think my body thought the ride had ended each time i stopped. it took the better part of the day - 6:45 on the bike, 7:30 overall, and i averaged 15.1 mph, which isn't too far off the pace i usually set for shorter rides.
@meg: wait, how is raw food selling out? i would think you'd get big points for sustainability, or at least for gumption (i've done the raw thing a few times out here, and i am not a big fan, even though i'm the sort of person who gets cravings for broccoli rather than chocolate). i give you points for gumption.
@tom:i think moveon will give her a free sticker, no? i don't want to ask, as i just got off of their radar a few months ago, but the opportunity is out there, i think. i had to cough up an extra buck for a button at the thing in williamsburg, but since i was doing my downmarket liberal impression of scrooge on christmas day anyway, it was okay.
unrelated but scary: in the course of researching a story for the ladymag, i just learned that there are 384,000 google results for barack obama antichrist. this country, i tell you.
@sara: magnificent dining, check. as it turns out, joe will not have to go to DC next week, so we can frolic like children of the all-night diner.
@jacob: you are a machine! also, you should know that because i love you, i will not be wearing an '80s-looking black velvet marc jacobs dress with zipper epaulets to your wedding. just barely.
ah, yes, but there are 407,000 results for john mccain antichrist. i'm just sayin' ...
Raw food isn't selling out (you must come next time you are out. I swear it is delish, and I like steak). Checking my irony at the door is selling out, since I was reminded that we are in fact, 'bringing the irony BACK.' But you have to check it at the door, for gods sake. You order in affirmations and answer a question of the day. You'd be too peeved to eat if you didn't. You do feel sort of yoga-ed out by the time you leave though, if you roll with it.
i was just reading about Cafe Gratitude's project to outdo Jared the Subway Guy: http://www.mayibefrankmovie.com/
and thinking i ought to check that place out...
last time i was in SF, i made the mistake of tuning into AM talk radio and heard a host describe Obama as "absolute evil incarnate." followed by a caller who congratulated him on "telling the truth about this frightening man." it's enough to make one sign up to canvass for Obama-Biden all October...
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