This is the first full week of my Poor Wife's summer break, a week which traditionally is spent moving stuff around at school, since art teachers tend to have enormous caches of supplies. This year, though, as they've thoroughly screwed up the room assignments she finds herself stuck waiting for someone else to clear out her new room, so it all came home and currently fills the shed and the guest room, and the dining room is now the command center for the summer class she'll be starting in a week. So I'm trying to dedicate my free time to her, and my little charges in the landscape which are being assaulted by a late-spring series of 90º days. All of which has somewhat curtailed my reading time, and has meant composing posts in my head and trying to write them down later without spending hours at it. If I disappear for a day or so, rest assured I'm not enjoying myself.
So, short takes: President Clinton is in town, he spoke tonight and will be signing 500 copies of his book tomorrow. I'd have gone to the speech, but I didn't find out about it until it was long past sold-out. The book and the autograph I can do without. But I did get to hear some local hairdo on the Constant Tape Loop of Local News we're blessed with on cable call him, "the controversial former president" (do we have one that isn't?), note that he would "only be signing copies of his book," (and not, evidently, Your Left Breast), that "some people" had "paid up to $500" for a ticket to tonite's speech (I suppose they'll be sending their Investigative Team to find out if it was their own money), and concluding with a note that the Controversial Former President is the highest-paid speaker in the land. God, I hate these motherfuckers. That was essentially the content of my email to her.
The ever-charming Kathy takes on the Kos Kontretemps and other bloggers she no longer reads. I do read Roxanne, and I'm sorry to have dropped Kevin Drum, who does a lot of good work. But I wanted to point out here that the high-traffic bloggers who are genuinely funny, (e.g. TBogg, s.z., norb) as opposed to the wonks, never seem to do any ego tripping. I've met a celeb or two in my day. Johnny and June Carter Cash were as nice as nice could be. Liberace was a genuine, sweet guy. I got to shake the hand of Jorge Luis Borges. I played violin for Josef Gingold. The only person I ever met who was on a star trip was z-lister Lorna Luft. Curious, ain't it?
My Poor Wife tells me that CNN went wall-to-wall for about three hours this afternoon with a California police chase, then simply dropped the story. Nothing on their site about it now. Apparently there weren't any blonde girls in the car.