Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Midweek Rants and Rhetorical Questions

  • Previously I blogged that I wasn't happy that my beloved Jewel had become a Sentry. Well, they hired half the people that worked previously, they do have a killer meat section (they're offering meat deals in that reach-in cooler!), and the ethnic aisle has been expanded. Somebody there really went nuts with the Goya products vendor, as a matter of fact. And at least the parking lot is normal. Have I whined about the stupid parking lot at the Pick N Save on Holt, right off of I-94, pretty much on the backside of Sentry? It's one of those parking lots that's just a major cluster because they thought it would be quaint to put curbed dividers all over the place, which means you're also looking at straight in parking spaces, instead of the easier-to-pull in (and pull out without bashing somebody) slanted slots. Sentry/Jewel understands that when you go grocery shopping, you're not looking for a quaint parking lot; you're looking to get in and out without some dufus rear ending you, and a spot relatively near a door. Cast your vote: quaint or easy-to-navagate? No-brainer. Plus, it’s a Pick N Save that's next to a Home Depot. Nobody is fooled by this lame attempt to make this look like a pictureesque towne square. If I wanted that contrived crap, I'd have bought a McMansion in Mequon. The nuts and a cherry topping this all off is the Starbucks and Applebees on the corners of this lot. They have their own parking lots that are curbed off. God forbid an Applebee's patron easily get into the Pick N Save lot or vice versa. No, you pretty much have to exit completely on Holt Avenue, and the circle around to get back. What is the purpose of this? To prevent somebody from the convenience of getting to any of these businesses in the same trip?


  • We bumped into some friends this week who had out-of-town guests. They suggested to their guests to go see Joan Jett at Pridefest. "Oh, no, I'm not going to that alone," the guests told our friends. "You'll be with us," our friends had replied. "Oh, but none of us are gay, is what I mean." I mention this only because I'm sure this wasn't an uncommon sentiment. What, is there some PrideFest rule I wasn't aware of, you must be accompanied by a bonafide gay person in order to enter? Or are you afraid that people might think that you might be the bona fide gay person. How would they check? Is this an issue with any of the other non-Summerfest festivals at Henry Maier Park? Do you have to be Irish to go to Irish Fest? (Do you have to show up with paperwork to explain your nationality if your last name doesn't start with Mc or O'?) Puh-leeze. BTW, by all accounts, Joan Jett rocked.

  • Chicago readers, help me out. I'm in the Windy City for a seminar Monday and Tuesday of next week. My hotel and the seminar itself is smack dab in the middle of the Loop. What to do at night? Who's your local club wonders I can't miss that somehow got booked early in the week? If they're national and good and on tour, I can probably catch them at Milwaukee Summerfest -- so that's not what I'm looking for here. Some acoustic wonder who run a Monday night open stage, or some wacked out punk that sings on the corner Tuesday nights. Don't tell me Chicago has neither. Let me know.


  • Stella leaves for her first overnight camp soon. She'll be gone three nights. This is the longest she's been away from home without me. She's excited as can be and I'm excited for her, but it's a little bittersweet. My baby girl is growing up too fast. She's in the older kids' soccer league now, too. Still looks like this consummate tomboy jockette when she plays-- she prefers skorts (to shorts) in girly colors, but that offsets her competitive warrior attitude when she takes to the field. I love watching her play soccer, because I can watch from a distance. I just love watching the kids in general from a distance. They forget I'm there, and they go off into their own worlds, and that's when I can really drink in the joy of their development as individuals, not as kids trying to show off for (or avoid!) mommy's watchful eye. I wish I could be a bug on the wall of Stella's tent, not as voyeur, or even to make sure she's being good, but just to re-live the discovery, the fun, the magic of being a kid at camp, away from home, making new friends, and falling asleep to the lullaby of crickets, bullfrogs, and other nocturnal forest critters.

  • Finally, if I ever catch anybody who smashes their damn glass beer or whiskey bottle right in the middle of the bike path, God help you. I haven't gotten a flat tire yet, but it's only a matter of time.

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