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More about the wake later...
Oct. 16th, 2009 11:23 pmThere are zombies doing the macarena in this coffee house.
The advent of art school students in my hometown seems to be an improvement, at least for the night life of this moribund place. They had a zombie march this evening and now there is a tiny rave in my favorite coffee house. There are only a few kids dancing, but the DJ totally has fiber in his stool. The Cheat would be pleased.
Utica has had an art museum for a long time. Three prominent, wealthy and single men died in the 1920s. They left their money to an endowment for art, which became named for them: the Munson William Proctor Institute. We all call it the Munstitute, since Proctor already has his name on two parks (one designed by Frederick Law Olmsted) and my high school. About a decade ago the Munstitute made a deal to be a campus of the Pratt Instutute in Brooklyn.
I don't feel as bad about Utica as I have in the past. Then again, my get-out-of-jail pass is stamped and I got to go to Canada for a few days. The Thousand Islands are two hours from here and Ottawa is only 3.5 hours from here.
Today I defrosted the fridge at my childhood home. We had a normal fridge when I was a child, but my parents got this non-defroster used a dozen years ago. It has held up amazingly well, since it's less complex. It also has a huge freezer. Nevertheless, it suffers from neglect since my parents live more at my gramma's old house. It felt good to boil water and get sheets of ice to drop into my hands. It was also a finite task: when the ice was out of the freezer and I had dried out every last drop of water, I could turn the fridge back on, put back what wasn't garbage and relax.
Cleaning anything else in the house seems too convoluted. There is no space on the kitchen table, but I don't even know where to put anything. If I put cereal in the shelves where it would have gone when I was a kid, I have no idea what else I may find. I also have no idea where to put the boxes in the way of the shelves unless I just haul everything into the cellar.
Suddenly there is a live chiptune band playing. Somehow it's good, but my ear plugs may be helping. In any case, typing at a bar instead of a table is proving to be painful...
The advent of art school students in my hometown seems to be an improvement, at least for the night life of this moribund place. They had a zombie march this evening and now there is a tiny rave in my favorite coffee house. There are only a few kids dancing, but the DJ totally has fiber in his stool. The Cheat would be pleased.
Utica has had an art museum for a long time. Three prominent, wealthy and single men died in the 1920s. They left their money to an endowment for art, which became named for them: the Munson William Proctor Institute. We all call it the Munstitute, since Proctor already has his name on two parks (one designed by Frederick Law Olmsted) and my high school. About a decade ago the Munstitute made a deal to be a campus of the Pratt Instutute in Brooklyn.
I don't feel as bad about Utica as I have in the past. Then again, my get-out-of-jail pass is stamped and I got to go to Canada for a few days. The Thousand Islands are two hours from here and Ottawa is only 3.5 hours from here.
Today I defrosted the fridge at my childhood home. We had a normal fridge when I was a child, but my parents got this non-defroster used a dozen years ago. It has held up amazingly well, since it's less complex. It also has a huge freezer. Nevertheless, it suffers from neglect since my parents live more at my gramma's old house. It felt good to boil water and get sheets of ice to drop into my hands. It was also a finite task: when the ice was out of the freezer and I had dried out every last drop of water, I could turn the fridge back on, put back what wasn't garbage and relax.
Cleaning anything else in the house seems too convoluted. There is no space on the kitchen table, but I don't even know where to put anything. If I put cereal in the shelves where it would have gone when I was a kid, I have no idea what else I may find. I also have no idea where to put the boxes in the way of the shelves unless I just haul everything into the cellar.
Suddenly there is a live chiptune band playing. Somehow it's good, but my ear plugs may be helping. In any case, typing at a bar instead of a table is proving to be painful...
