The plan keeps coming up again. But I left the room and forgot it. Ha, my grin just stretched itself out like it normally does when I do something foolish or do something heroic, whichever it is, I think I still have the same expression on my face. And the same expression to the goddess of fertility for the easter eggs and the same expression eating dinosaur's ribs and trilobit ice cream with a few dino-riders. The 719 Burnley project is blowing up all over the place and the United States street band is in full effect to bring in the (forget spring) summer months with sounds and laughs and fortymoviehands.

I have been reading Nicholas J. Reynold's blog a lot and I must praise it. He incorporates words and imagery better than Ed Ruscha in my opinion. And tonight I will read somemore and that timeless expression on my face will most likely be there once again (and not because I will be arriving back here after seeing Hot Hot Heat, but I'm not going to mention that little trip because normally when I plan something, a little road trip of sorts to our friendly upstate hardcore town named Rochester, it normally fails miserably and horribly or calmly and patiently, either/or with more love (xo) than an Elliott Smith cover band.) (end parenthesis)

But I am looking forward to finding a Harvard Bar this weekend and coming out alive after this weekend. I do not know who will kill me first, the hordes of BoSox fans that I've been fearing since Gibby hit that home run in the '84 World Series and the picture from the front page of the Free Press that was completely accidental. Folks, its true. The cameraman was supposed to be following the ball in play and he had been doing his job until that moment when (I'll precede this next statement by saying that Tiger Stadium had a little bit of a rat problem in the upper deck press/camera boxes at the time) a rat crawled over his shoe at the exact moment Kirk Gibson hit the homerun. Well, by the time the cameraman realized what happened, that he lost the ball and now had nothing to shoot but Gibby running the bases, he....shot Gibby running the bases and its not even memorable to me since I was only two years old at the time, but I've seen replays and its funny, I can replay that entire scene in my head just from old news clippings and reel-to-reels with 1940's speak even though it took place in 1984. Thanks dad and mom for keeping that memory alive, or actually birthing that memory and others inside my head. And thanks to the future gentlemen of 965 Lancaster and DGK for a successful life thus far at a remote private school in a central, possibly, northern american city.