Long Island Blues

We're just home from a manic drive through Long Island.  OMG--how do people live there?  Crazy drivers going 40 in the middle lane while other crazies zig-zag around them.  Did stop to see the Gilbert and George exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum of Art--the young Latina woman in the gift store supporting the show asked me if I like them and seemed both surprised and pleased when I said "yes."  She likes that they're unafraid to tackle topics that most people won't; I like that they formed a basis for their lives (life?) as artists way back in the early 70s and have stuck to it, suits and all.  I also approve their refusal to do Abstract Expressionism, especially now that I know that they were the first to do so.  Some of their epic pictures are beautiful, some are ugly, much like the world is right now.  A worthwhile stop.

On the dark/downside, our new Tom-tom gps routed us through lower Manhattan, a total nightmare.  We drove right past ground zero, which continues to look like a ground up mess.  

Frazzled?  Indeed, although we do have an Abyssinian kitten picked out, and we did have a great night full of sidecars and steaks and great baseball.  And the drive up Jones Beach wasn't bad either.

Sara meets Al Bundy and Bill Clinton.  Toddy prophesies Armageddon, the end times for the earth without a rapture.  Shauna writes of daily miracles in coffee shops.  How did we get so lucky?  Blogs have done what no writing teacher has ever mastered: they've got people hooked on writing with passion on topics that matter to them.  Fortunately, for most of us, there seems to be an audience of one or two or seven, certainly enough to keep the juices flowing (not in a sexual way, mind you).  

So today I lift up for your consideration the Phillies, a team that's only won a World Series once, 28 years ago, a team whose fans are legion.  While it's true that the Tampa Bay team has never won a Series, they've only been trying for a mere decade.  Let's root together for the one-time miracle to repeat itself.