In my line of work, a slow work week is a double-edged sword. I finish a bit earlier and less exhausted, but with considerably less cash to throw around on silly things like horse races & beer & new musical toys & groiceries & rent. This was one of those weeks. Actually, I should say these were two of those weeks. Yegad.
It was a nice day. Actually had time for a lunch break. Ate completely crappy pastries & drank burnt coffee watching suits & tourists pass by at the top of Viagra Triangle. Watched a couple young canvassers from my old org. work the corner to little avail. I don't miss that job, and they won't, either.
They're shooting in my work neighborhood. Some football movie titled "The Express" with Dennis Quaid. I read somewhere the story is set in Syracuse, NY., which makes much sense ...
Jerry Falwell passed on this week. I was thinking I must be some low-life, because when I received that bit of news, my gut reaction was "good -- maybe as of now the world is a bit less hateful." Obviously, I wasn't the only person on earth to feel this way, and it was heartening this morning to read Cathleen Falsani's religion column in the Sun-Times to find she had pretty much the same reaction I did.
That old Everly Bros. tune, "Walk Right Back," in my head most of today.
Heading home from work ... the blue line lurches doggedly forward filled with a demographic more reminiscent of a Naperville-bound Metra than the mass transit of Chicago's eclectic & hard-working NW side ... some fratboy in a backwards blue baseball cap yells, to nobody in particular, "Cubbies ... how about those Cubbies?"
"Uh, did you just say, 'how about those yuppies?'" a woman's voice chimes. The three of us who did not just walk out of the J. Crew catalog and onto the el had a nice laugh at that one.