April 19th, 2002

2020 lack of vision

crushing the first snails of summer

It finally rained last night and as I wheeled my bike along the garden path I heard a tiny crunch, and then another tiny crunch, and then another. The snails have woken up for the summer. When I first moved into this house I worried about the snails, now I just trample them under foot. Callous or realistic?

Another review last night, two schoolkids and a lost fringe actor ranting away on a psychedelic stage about Elvis and a bunch of other things they didn't seem old enough for. The monologues were a rag bag from all over the place -- one was written by Christopher Walken for God's sake -- and I swear that everyone in the audience who wasn't actually related to the actors was a writer. Still, they gave me flying saucers, and they had the biggest strobe light I'd ever seen (maybe they look smaller from further away, it's an intimate venue) and played Iggy Pop and Bowie at me as well as the King (and Paul Simon's Graceland, ugh, but only briefly) so no complaints really. Except for trendy mum laughing extra loud whenever her boy did anything rude, that did piss me off.

Wow, this Christopher Walken Fansite really is the business.

Did I mention that some of my illustrations got pulled off the web by an auditor in Helsinki to illustrate her presentation, "The Seven Deadly Sins of Computer-Assisted Auditing"? Those wacky Fins. "For this topic I would like to use your art work to give more attention on the topic," she asked me. Bless. (The pictures she used.)