Letters to Holly

Monday, September 11

I'd Rather Talk About Something Else Today

Your Sis has a school-bred cold and spent the weekend in a headfog. She went to another Ladies Night party on Friday but crashed Staurday and Sunday. I ran at the gym again to the dulcet tones of Nine Inch nails. I also got to see the space shuttle launch. I ran two miles on one of the newer treadmills, and it hurt a lot. I've developed a rib pain in the last two runs, and I'm puzzled as to why. My style hasn't changed, and I'm not running farther.

After that run, I decided to try to fix the lawnmower one last time. I removed the sparkplug and dry-cranked the engine to shift some excess oil around. Then I put the plug back in. It again wouldn't start. I looked at the plug, and it looked just like every plug I've seen. Then I realized almost every plug I've seen has been a discarded one. I zipped to the local hardware store and bought a new one, jacked it in, and the mower cranked right up. So I mowed the lawn, and this is a bad idea when it's 1 p.m. and you've just run two miles. But the lawn hadn't been mowed since FDR's second term, and we finally had enough dry weather for the grass to be mowable. I set the mower to the highest setting because the grass was clogging the blade otherwise. It stopped twice, and I cleaned out the grass glumps with a hose. Also, the next-door neighbors' grandkid was alone and bored, and we chatted while I fixed up the mower. It didn't want to crank up, but a new load of gas fixed that problem. I got the whole lawn done, and that grass monkey is finally off my back. I also, apparently, don't need to buy a new mower.

That night I went with Travis and Kathy to a local sports bar where an Ohio State alumni group were holding court to watch the game against Texas. I was clearly the odd man out, the only one not wearing an Ohio State shirt. We were also easily the youngest folks there by about thirty years. I was persona non grata quickly; one superfan made a point to high-five everyone after a strong showing by Ohio State, and I was passed over almost every time. But I got to eat wings and drink beer and wolf down a burger, so screw him. I also got to buddy up with Kathy's mom, who seemed to like me once she realized we didn't believe pro wrestling was real.

On Sunday, we did nothing but watch pro football.

Your Sis cleared out about 20 epsiodes of "Mad About You" from the TiFaux while I was mowing or getting groceries, and I'm just about to start inking the Star wars drawings.

Your parents left for vacation Friday, and I started taking care of the pets. They found someone to feed them on weekends, so I don't have to make that drive for a ten-minute job.

Picture of the Day
John Travolta as Edna Turnblad in the movie version of the Broadway musical Hairspray. The musical was based on a film wherein Edna was played by Divine, a legendary drag queen cult diva. Edna is thus always played by a man.

In the News
Yes, it does feel like five years has gone by. I was driving to work and heard the first news reports on NPR. When I got to the Creative Loafing office, we watched a tiny, grainy TV set and started work on the next issue of the paper. I kept track of info with the CNN and New York Times websites. I got home about 4 p.m. and watched ABC news for hours and hours. But, of course, almost every channel had switched to some news feed. If there's one moment of footage I remember most from those hours, it's of Buckingham Palace playing our national anthem.

I saw your note about posting comments, and Blogspot is just as frustrating on this end too. You can always email me.

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