I’m listening to Harry Connick Jr. croon and I don’t much feel like blogging. I’ve poured over reports, etc., out of S.C. but I don’t have anything insightful to say. My sister, MindOverMary, got to vote in S.C. and she blogs as well as I can about the election.
My grandson’s blog, Blogoraptor, has been updated to include the 50th anniversary of LEGOS and, just in case you missed it, the loss of a tooth. My son in law’s brother is extensively quoted in a Tulsa newspaper article on the “Fightin’ 45th” going to Kuwait and Iraq.
Went to the same party as MCARP Saturday, but I stayed longer and had, I suspect, more fun. I met a woman at the party I wanted to “chat up”, but I quailed and asked around about her to make sure that she was single and all and then asked a mutual friend to set us up. Very unlike me not to have the stuff to just walk up and be a little bold, but I was not up to it this time. I think I may have also stumbled into tickets to a Foo Fighters concert coming up soon and that’s a good thing. Meanwhile, the food at this party was fabulous and so beautifully presented that it was almost a shame to dig in. I was, in fact, bold enough to dig in.
Friday night, after dinner with friends, I went to VZDs about 10 p.m. to see Watermelon Slim and the Workers. I thought there would be dancing, but there really wasn’t; it was still fun and I really like his music and own a couple of his CDs. If you like the blues, you should look into him and give a listen to his newest, Wheel Man.
I’m digging the good weather, but the ragtop has stayed up over the MidLife Chrysler. Tonight, I took an aimless drive around Lake Hefner and found myself amazed at how developed it is at Rockwell and Hefner; that’s out in the country to me, but it’s apartments and strip malls to the folks who live there.
Sinatra’s Siamese side, the talkative half, is about to drive me crazy wanting in and out and in and out and pet me feed me now now now now now. He says he favors Obama because he’s a mixed breed, too. I knew I’d been too focussed on politics when he said that and my impulse was to argue with him, a fruitless task, so I gave up and started reading Maureen Dowd’s “Are Men Necessary?”. I want to write a book, too. I want to call it: “Are Mondays Necessary?”.

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