'Ff'lo (fflo) wrote,
'Ff'lo
fflo

Sunday

Hey there.

I just realized I left a whole 4-year residence out of my recent post of aerial shots of where I've lived. (Can you tell which one? It's in there now.) Number of years at those places: <1, <1, 1ish, 2ish, 2, 2, 2, 2, most months of 3ish, 3.5ish & counting, 4ish, 4ish, 8ish, & around 9 altogether. Will I get the itch soon, or will this little corner of the world set an adult record for me later in 2007? Smart money's on the latter, I reckon, provided I live so long.

My feet are cold. Gotta get out in the world and moving. Spent much of yesterday wandering around Detroit with shmizla. Among other discoveries, we found the business card (at the Cass Café, where there was an opening night party for the new art on the walls) of Business Babies, which purports to use puppets (perhaps like Lu Ann in "King of the Hill," with her Bible Babies?) to inculcate children into the all-important world of "entrepreneurship." It was a relief today to check out this venture's exceptionally lousy website & realize that the entrepreneurs in question won't be winning any Most Likely To Succeeds. Wish I could say with confidence that they'll surely not get any gigs within schools, but you know how that can go. Or do you suppose, by any far-flung chance, it's really an art project joke, and that, when/if people call up, the proprietor goes off on 'em, or somehow, in some especially adept weasely way, talks 'em into art education instead?

We're planning to fire up O's videocassette player later today to enjoy, with any flatmates and/or visitors who happen to be around, Johnny Guitar, the camp classic curiosity about which you may recall my mentioning here before.

Looking forward to vjsmom's round-up of the peace protest & march yesterday. They do sound as if they had a grand time & got good'n'exhausted. I noted that NPR's coverage yesterday morning seemed to have a tone less careful not to offend "patriots" or be taken as (egads) considering the cause at hand legitimate.

Good Sundays to you all, say I, as the snowflakes thicken and call my name. O for a sled and some kids, this afternoon.
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