It was perhaps ten PM. Sitting in the back of the coffeehouse Rienzi, my girlfriend practiced her version of "A High flying Bird"
It was one of those rambling discussions that tend to occur at four AM when everyone was sobered up, tired, but too revved up to sleep.
It wasn't pretty. I woke up with the song echoing in my mind; Too Much Of Nothing.
Stella was first posted two years ago on this date, and I am presenting it as a Flashback Friday special:
I have been struggling with adobe illustrator. It's the computer end of my carving business. I use it for experimental layout, but primarily for text applications. Last night I was getting my nose buried in short videos on text manipulation and design in Illustrator when I ran across the term majuscule
Maybe one of you can help me? I've misplaced a location and can't find it.
Celebrity. We tend to think of celebrity as a media-fed feeding frenzy of attention. We may not know why a person is famous or what caused the fame, but we devour every saucy post and article on them.
We all have observances of personal as well as regular holidays. So sometime each year, not too long after Easter, I drive to Boston, walk up Grove street, and remark on how quiet it now seems. The street is clean, the cars of recent vintage, and clearly, the old neighborhood is markedly upscale.
The young woman observed me throughout my set. It was a bit off-putting, frankly. I went back into the boiler room afterward; it was the only greenroom that this coffeehouse had for performers to tune instruments or have a cup of coffee. However, my privacy didn't last. The young woman barged in and began berating me loudly.
I am not henpecked. I am among the fortunate in that I have a wife who smiles at me and allows me to make my own mistakes, correct them, and not get told that she told me so. I do, however, get the occasional "look."