The new gal in the office is trying o make social inroads with me. There’s no reason to be unsociable with her; we just have vastly different energy levels and styles of conversation. She learned of my interest in wrestling and promised to bring in a gift playing on that. She made a big show of handing over what are, in reality, Power Rangers. Look like little Happy Meal toys. I think her kids lead her astray. It’s a nice thought. I hope she doesn’t feel she’s failed to make nice.
When they left, I contacted Travis to remind him of They Might Be Giants tonight. He wants to go, but we don’t have a set meeting time tomorrow. I’m also to hook up with Meredith and Josh. I’m playing this one loose. As long as I see the band around 9:30, I don’t care what we do or where we meet.
Picture of the Day
From the BBC:
In the news
The rhetoric over
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Monday might see a nationwide walkout of immigrants to protest the ugly debate over border policies. May 1st has long been the European May Day to celebrate labor rights.
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Gas prices went down overnight here by seven cents. Thanks, Bush.
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Broadway has become more of a desperate tourist trap as musicals have emerged in two disturbing trends: a) the what-the-hell remakes from other media; and b) jukebox musicals, where a slim story is woven between songs by a particular performer. The latter has seen shows based on Johnny Cash (which just closed after about a three-day run), the Beach Boys, The Four Seasons, John Lennon, and of course, the best and first, Abba. The former of the trends has two new members. First is The Wedding Singer. The NY Times says it too easily glosses over the ‘80s and turns the show into a musical version of Trivial Pursuit about that decade. The second remake is Lestat, the third vampire musical in as many years and seemingly the third to go down in flames. Rumors swirl that Mel Brooks wants to bring Young Frankenstein to the stage to follow up The Producers.