I'm in Kansas City.
I'm on vacation. I decided I needed to go back home to Kansas City to meet my nieces new baby. And of course, just to reconnect with my family before the three month long trolley driving blur that is "Summer in Chicago".
I was pretty stoked about how fast I got from work to my nieces softball game just outside of Kansas City. I think it was about 8 or 8 1/2 hours. Then my nephew-in-law Wendell informed me that my sister Wendy did it in 7 hours 8 years ago. Well, I know my van would never safely make that trip in that time. The heat shields would fail for sure and then I'd be scattered across the great plains and the show-me state where they would then be showing me, lying in state, in pieces. So 8 hours is fine.
I got hit on really awkwardly in some small town between St. Louis and Columbia by a really butchy but apparently heterosexual contruction worker woman. She sidled up next to me at the fountain drink wall at the QT and just kind of stared at me. In days past, when I was less secure, I would have thought she was making fun of me, but now I know better. And I just got a haircut so my charm is irrepressable. Anyway, she looked at me until I looked back and then she laughed clumsily and filled her cup with ice. Then she kind of bounced around like a stray quark in a particle accelerator with a limp and dried paint on it's shirt. As I cautiously studied this feminine beast in her natural habitat, I began to realize that apparently it was mating season for the awkward and she (being awkward and socially retarded) didn't bother to see if I was wearing a wedding ring. The most pitiable aspect of this tale is that I believe I caught her being impressed by the embroidery on my "ChicagoTrolley Co. and Chicago Double Decker Co." jacket. It's the only light jacket I have, so I wear it all the time. Being a trolley driver is not something that should impress the ladies, but apparently when you're a chuckling construction worker in heat, it is impressive.
Maybe she lives in the woods.
Anyway, we both needed lids at the same time too so I had to make uncomfortable, stunted, forced conversation with someone who may or may not have understood language.
It's weird though. I was vaguely aroused. She was cute but apparently was raised by prairie dogs.
Then later I watched my niece play softball. I video taped some of it. It was a pitchers duel. 16-15. Advantage, my nieces team. Jordan pitched two good innings and I guess was officially the "winning" pitcher even though she allowed 12 runs. Little League is great for wild statistics. I think every kid drove in a run. That almost never happens in the pros.
Little girls seem to cry a lot when they're softball skill is not what they'd like it to be. IfI had cried every time I struck out, I would have been ostracized and beaten up.
Then I finally met the new baby. My niece Dana, just had a boy six weeks ago. He's a cute kid and tonight I videotaped his first attempt at ingesting formula. He made a lot of skwinky-eye faces. Then he stared into the camera for a long time, as if he thought he was ready for his close up.
By the way, yesterday Scott and I did our last week of three at "the Kitchen Sink" at the Playground in Chicago. People enjoyed it even though it was the lowest energy of all our shows so far. In fact, grinning, another performer said, "That was the most half-assed of all your shows so far." To which Scott proudly replied, "Yep. No one phones it in like Chris and Scott" Oh, we're not "Chris and Scott" anymore. We're "The Co-Governors of Space". Look out for the story of our rise to power soon in a tiny theater nowhere near anyone.
I was pretty stoked about how fast I got from work to my nieces softball game just outside of Kansas City. I think it was about 8 or 8 1/2 hours. Then my nephew-in-law Wendell informed me that my sister Wendy did it in 7 hours 8 years ago. Well, I know my van would never safely make that trip in that time. The heat shields would fail for sure and then I'd be scattered across the great plains and the show-me state where they would then be showing me, lying in state, in pieces. So 8 hours is fine.
I got hit on really awkwardly in some small town between St. Louis and Columbia by a really butchy but apparently heterosexual contruction worker woman. She sidled up next to me at the fountain drink wall at the QT and just kind of stared at me. In days past, when I was less secure, I would have thought she was making fun of me, but now I know better. And I just got a haircut so my charm is irrepressable. Anyway, she looked at me until I looked back and then she laughed clumsily and filled her cup with ice. Then she kind of bounced around like a stray quark in a particle accelerator with a limp and dried paint on it's shirt. As I cautiously studied this feminine beast in her natural habitat, I began to realize that apparently it was mating season for the awkward and she (being awkward and socially retarded) didn't bother to see if I was wearing a wedding ring. The most pitiable aspect of this tale is that I believe I caught her being impressed by the embroidery on my "ChicagoTrolley Co. and Chicago Double Decker Co." jacket. It's the only light jacket I have, so I wear it all the time. Being a trolley driver is not something that should impress the ladies, but apparently when you're a chuckling construction worker in heat, it is impressive.
Maybe she lives in the woods.
Anyway, we both needed lids at the same time too so I had to make uncomfortable, stunted, forced conversation with someone who may or may not have understood language.
It's weird though. I was vaguely aroused. She was cute but apparently was raised by prairie dogs.
Then later I watched my niece play softball. I video taped some of it. It was a pitchers duel. 16-15. Advantage, my nieces team. Jordan pitched two good innings and I guess was officially the "winning" pitcher even though she allowed 12 runs. Little League is great for wild statistics. I think every kid drove in a run. That almost never happens in the pros.
Little girls seem to cry a lot when they're softball skill is not what they'd like it to be. IfI had cried every time I struck out, I would have been ostracized and beaten up.
Then I finally met the new baby. My niece Dana, just had a boy six weeks ago. He's a cute kid and tonight I videotaped his first attempt at ingesting formula. He made a lot of skwinky-eye faces. Then he stared into the camera for a long time, as if he thought he was ready for his close up.
By the way, yesterday Scott and I did our last week of three at "the Kitchen Sink" at the Playground in Chicago. People enjoyed it even though it was the lowest energy of all our shows so far. In fact, grinning, another performer said, "That was the most half-assed of all your shows so far." To which Scott proudly replied, "Yep. No one phones it in like Chris and Scott" Oh, we're not "Chris and Scott" anymore. We're "The Co-Governors of Space". Look out for the story of our rise to power soon in a tiny theater nowhere near anyone.
posted by Churchill at 10:41 PM
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