I may treat myself to a showing of Phantom of the Opera next month. I’ve seen it a couple times before, once in San Francisco and once here. Musicals typically don’t do much for me, but I have a soft spot for this one. The whole disfigured-artist-suffering-from-unrequited-love thing somehow resonates with me for reasons I can’t explain. And it’s playing at the Orpheum, which is only a few blocks from my building. There’s a whole string of theaters in my neighborhood; the Orpheum, the State, the Pantages. And in another year or so, the new Guthrie will be completed on the riverfront, also within walking distance. See, this is why I live downtown. Even though I may only make it to these establishments a couple times a year, I like knowing they’re nearby.
Just passed 200 pages in the book. About friggin’ time.

It was simply too gorgeous to stay inside today, so I spent much of the day away from my desk. First, I went to Uncle Hugo’s to pick up some summer reading. It’s a funky store with lots of old paperbacks and a knowledgeable staff, but like I’ve written before, it’s a pain in the ass to navigate in a wheelchair. Books are scattered everywhere and I came damn close to toppling over a couple stacks. But the staff were very helpful and retrieved a bunch of titles for me, which encourages my philosophy of supporting local businesses. Then I spent a few hours at Grand Ole Day in St. Paul. It’s a kind of street fair that runs along historic Grand Avenue, with a lot of live music and pretty good people watching. It used to be called Grand Ole Days, but I think they had to cut it down to one day for budget reasons. I’ll post some pictures I took later tonight or tomorrow. I’ve lived here nine years and this was my first time at that event. There’s a few other things like that which I’ve never made it to, like the Aquatennial and Taste of Minnesota. I’m going to try to remedy that this summer.
And today was the first day where it really felt like summer. The sun was warm on my face and the air smelled like cut grass and barbecue sauce. And I was walking around and thinking it would be nice to have someone to hang out with and do typical summer stuff, like hang at the lakes. Maybe I should start going to these public gatherings wearing a big sandwich board that says FREE LEGAL ADVICE IN EXCHANGE FOR CASUAL DATE.
Yup, that would work.

Got my hair cut last night. My hair is the kind that grows incredibly fast. It goes from “presentable” to “big-ass Jewfro” in a matter of a few weeks. But I have a sweet deal worked out with my stylist where she comes over to my place. The only bummer about getting a haircut is that we never seem to be able to fully contain the hair. Somehow, it gets into everything. My chair. My clothes. I’ve inhaled strands of hair into my trachea a couple times, which leaves me sounding like a cat coughing up a furball. And I’ll admit right now that I’m incredibly vain about my hair. Do you remember the scene in the movie O Brother, Where Art Thou? where George Clooney is startled awake from a sound sleep and the first thing he mutters is “My hair!” That is so me. it’s my only physical characteristic that I actually like and that’s why my bathroom is stocked with overpriced shampoo and frou-frou styling products.
My broadband connection mysteriously stopped working last night. After giving it some thought, I thought the problem might be related to one of the several splitters I had in the cable line to split the signal between my modem, my video card, and the television. And I was right, which means no more television on the computer. Not a big deal, but it was a nice convenience. I think I’ll still keep my appointment with the cable guy to check my signal strength.

Congratulations to Stephanie Herseth, who is the second Democrat to win a Congressional special election this year. And in neighboring South Dakota, no less. I hesitate to say that the political tide is turning in this country. The election was close and she’ll have to do it again in November. But when a Democrat is able to pull out a victory in what is supposed to be a solidly Republican state, the future seems a bit more hopeful.
Last week, I wrote a short entry in defense of the Washingtonienne, former Senate aide who was fired for blogging about her sex life. Well, wrote in article in the Guardian and she comes off sounding like a brat:
I left Washington on Thursday and my timing could not be better: it’s Fleet Week in New York City. Fleet Week is when ships full of US sailors and marines pull into New York harbour to promote our proud maritime heritage. As an American woman, I cannot help but feel proud of the men who defend our country: they are much better off here than in Iraq. They roam the streets in their uniforms looking for fun and everybody wants to show them a good time. All politics aside, women love a man in uniform, especially boy-crazy girls like me. Like I said, my timing could not be better.
And now she is on the verge of getting a book deal, natch:
But the real reason I went to New York is not to hook up with sailors; I am here to meet with book people. If I get a book deal, that means I will actually have to write a book, which means I will actually have to do some work to make a living, which is bitterly ironic, since I had the easiest job in the world before I got sacked.
Sigh. To be expected, I suppose. We all have to work with what we have.

Memorial Day is the kind of holiday that easily lends itself to all kinds of platitudes and bromides. I’m going to skip all that. Instead, I want to let the numbers speak for themselves:
Revolutionary War–4,435 combat deaths
War of 1812–2,260 combat deaths
Mexican War–1,733 combat deaths
Civil War–184,594 combat deaths
Spanish-American War–385 combat deaths
World War I–53,513 combat deaths
World War II–292,131 combat deaths
Korean War–33,651 combat deaths
Vietnam War–47,369 combat deaths
Gulf War I–145 combat deaths
Gulf War II–814 combat deaths
If you add these numbers up, it’s equivalent to the entire population of Columbus, Ohio. And keep in mind that these numbers only reflect combat deaths, not total casualties.
Draw your own conclusions.