Drinking Like a Radio

Your Sis came to Asheville with me Friday, but she didn't test-drive a scooter. She's on the waiting list for the safety-course at a community college, and she's disheartened about the potential time before she becomes a student. This isn't a midlife crisis; this is her annual summer project that hit a speed bump. She hoped to drive to work on her new scooter when the school opens next month. We drove to a parkway restaurant next to a hotel. This hotel was the scene of some memorable college drama for me in the winter of '92, and it amuses Your Sis to no end.

We hit the farmer's market on Saturday to make veggie kabobs for that night's teacher party. Again, we grilled. We've become master grillers of late. The party was good -- not too much shop talk and the mood was much more relaxed than during semesters. I also drank an entire bottle of Syrah, but I was assured I wasn't an ugly drunk. I never am. I'm a polite drunk. A charming drunk even.

Your Sis did school work over the weekend, and we took turns working on our tans for the August vacation. We watched the first Hellboy movie last night to prepare her for the sequel. I didn't like it when I first saw it -- it veers hard away from the comic's dark tone -- but time and old age has helped me grow to enjoy it.

Picture of the Day
I found this kids book in Malaprops. It's hysterical, and the author has a few other books out, including one where zoo animals pester a girl for supplies to make a getaway car. We don't need kids to buy these books. But, I have to admit and I urge you to say nothing to no one, I'm warming to the idea of being a parent.

I also found a comic book that details the creation of an episode of This American Life, and it may be my favorite comic book ever. It's a smidgen outdated. It predates podcasts, and the advice on getting on amateur radio is almost quaint now. Then again, I used to make fake radio broadcasts in my bedroom as a kid. I had tapes and tapes of my radio station.