Purchase Built To Spill Tickets.
Drive up to Boulder for the show.
Go to will call to get tickets.
Have will call reject you by being told they don’t have your name on file.
Go back to the car to get the receipt.
Look at receipt.
Have it dawn on you that said purchased tickets are for tomorrow night.
Go back to will call to see if the will exchange the tickets.
Get rejected again because the show was sold out.
Have Doug Martsch see that your having trouble.
Have Doug ask what the problem is.
Have Doug give door passes to everyone in your group.
Have tons of margaritas.
Watch Douge and Brett do a sidewalk set for those who couldn’t get tickets.
See a kickass show.
Thanks Boo Radley
I got a call yesterday afternoon from my father. He was calling from the emergency room and needed me to take him home. He had been in a car wreck. He got T-boned in a major intersection by a lady who ran the red light. He’s ok. Lots of back pain, bruised ribs, bruised kidney. His car is totaled though. I went and got stuff out of it at the towing place. I cleaned out the glove box and boxed up all the belongings he had. Then we went and got a prescription filled for some pain pills. Strong stuff. He’ll be passed out most of today, which is good cause he’s going to be hurtin’. I worry because back problems can stick with you and haunt you all your life. Yesterday I told him he was lucky. He just looked at me and laughed. He sure didn’t feel lucky, but he knew what I meant.
San Francisco is a wonderful city. The weather was perfect. There was nearly no fog. Unfortunately, I only got to spend about 28 hours there. It was definitely whirlwind. I did however get to spend a little time in China Town, go to the ferry building, and walk around Knob Hill and Downtown. I stayed at the Omni which was a beautiful hotel with all the luxuries. I’ll be back, there is so much more to see.
My presentation went great. I spent most of the day in meetings, groups, and discussions. It all went well. But it was still work.
I got back home last night around 1:00 am. There was a giant hole in my shower wall. This is a good thing. The leak in bathtub faucets is finally being fixed after getting progressively worse for the last year-and-a-half. A new shower head has been put on so now I don’t have to squat my knees or bend over to rinse the shampoo off my head (which as small as it may sound, is actually quite a luxury).
Thanks for all your luck, I know it helped.
It might be true, that they are really out there. Those clouds. Pearly luminescent love. Wisps and shiny cotton wads of earth’s most natural of resources. Lightly skimming and sometimes enveloping. They float around the world wrapping around unsuspecting you’s and me’s. Most of us know they are out there only because we’ve been wrapped up in them before. When you are wrapped up with love it is a warm lustrous fog. And love, like normal clouds, look solid and separate and of their own entity from the outside or from a distance. But when you get near one, you learn it has no defined boundaries and that it’s an intangible, wonderful and refreshing fog. And when its thick you can’t see a thing. It might be true, that they are really out there. Those clouds.
People don’t meet because they both wanted to rent the only copy of Waiting For Guffman last Tuesday, or because your friend’s sister has a friend who is new in town, or because the cute girl in the black spaghetti strap top at the party last year couldn’t stop smiling because she noticed that you couldn’t stop staring. Sometimes people just meet, and sometimes they just happen to meet in a love cloud. It might be true, that they are really out there. Those clouds. And some people are lucky enough to bump into each other in their mist and swirl.
When and where we fall in love only seems random because the movement of love is just as sporadic as that of normal clouds. Right now there is one at the South Kensington stop of the Circe Line, another thick cloud is near a small lake at Minnehetti sports camp in West Virginia, and there are wisps on the fifteenth floor of Mutual of Omaha building in Salt Lake City. It might be true, that they are really out there. Those clouds. And we unknowingly walk into their fog. And we don’t fall in love with each other, we just fall in love.
I went down to Colorado Springs this weekend to visit my Grandma. She turns 91 tomorrow. We brought her a lucky bamboo plant in celebration. She normally doesn’t like us to bring any gifts for her. She believes it’s a waste of money. She doesn’t want anymore material possessions. In her eyes it’s just another thing that needs to be taken care of. As a result, she doesn’t really even appreciate them. This makes my mother angry. My mom thinks it’s more important to receive gifts as a validation of people’s appreciation of you. We brought over food from Boston Chicken. She didn’t consider this a material gift and ate it right up. I like gifts but rarely expect them. I almost always accept them.
I was born 30 years ago. My mother gave birth to me at age 25. I know this because on my 25th birthday my mom told me, “you are now half my age.” This disturbed me. It also means my grandma had my mother when she was 35. I did this math in my head on Saturday night. Thirty-five is much older than I expected. I would guess this was particularly old to be having a child during the 1940’s.
My grandma still lives by herself, in a two-story house. She takes care of all the bills. She cooks her own meals. She has a hamburger and vanilla ice-cream every Sunday. She fills her own gas. She does her own laundry. She drives herself to the doctor. The idea of her driving around makes me nervous. I think she’s too old to drive. She has a “neighbor boy” mow the lawn. She thinks he charges too much money.
My grandma was really quite during our visit. I don’t think she has a lot to say. And she is generally a very quite woman. Maybe she has trouble relating to us. She is not very social and she rarely has guests. I suspect her life is very quiet normally. Our visit was probably a little chaotic for her. It was really nice to see her again. I should call her more often, in fact, I will.