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The surrealism of everyday life


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I guess different parts of the country are on different schedules. First day of school is August 14 here--kids have been back from camp for a long time. Mind you, this is vastly different than when I went to school in this area--we started school in September and got out beginning of June. Now they start in August and get out mid-May.

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Thank you not just for letting me play that again but reminding me of a fabulous Allan Sherman tribute show off Broadway many years ago, I just remember that was the first time I saw Tovah Feldshuh.

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Indeed, I didn’t know he was doing parodies when I was like six years old.

I have no idea whether I heard “Matilda” or “Zelda” first. Happily Belafonte and Sherman were both all over British radio when I was a child. 

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  • 4 weeks later...
  • 5 weeks later...

Free at last, we can now jaywalk in New York City.

https://nyc.streetsblog.org/2024/09/26/modified-jaywalking-repeal-passes-council

I can’t wait to get out there and try it. Walk, don’t walk, I’m walking here. 

(The less funny subtext is guess who was getting ticketed for jaywalking, if anyone.)

I remember jaywalking in Austin Texas and a couple, fused to the sidewalk, yelled at me “Are you crazy, the cops are right there.”

And indeed there was a cop car parked across the street. “I hope they have something better to do,” I said. I guess they did. 

 

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I was jay-walking across insanely busy Clement Street and was vaguely aware of another person doing the same about 10 feet from me.    Took a second look.   Ooooops.     Cop.    He made eye contact, grinned broadly and told me to stay safe.  

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  • 2 months later...

Airport story. I underestimated the ease of getting to my gate at Portland (ME) this morning. Zero traffic on the road, and the airport is nearby, and for the first time ever I am the only person in the security line. No one ahead or behind. So rather than being a reasonable hour ahead of boarding, I am 90 minutes or more.

There is Starbucks or there is a bar. I seat myself at the bar, telling myself it’s too early to be drinking. Drip coffee.

As 9.30 approaches I consider breakfast. I ask my server about the avocado toast. A fierce woman appears from the kitchen and says breakfast is over at 9.30. Okay, it’s 9.27 but whatever.

At that point, the only other person in the place, a very small older woman, rushes to the counter and banging her menu down threatens the staff with “the rage” of someone who had come there just for breakfast. She continues ranting as my server and I exchange rolled eyes.

After she storms out a party comes in and orders from the post-9.30 menu and I would have thought the kitchen could make avocado toast as easily as burgers for 6 five minutes later.

I settle back with a cold cider as that‘s not really drinking. 

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