The spring thaw must be approaching because I’m scheduled to get out every day this weekend. My social calendar has been relatively sparse lately, so this is a welcome development.

I had lunch today with a friend who is also an attorney and wheelchair user. She was telling me about the African safari she went on. And here I thought I was being all daring and supergimp-y when I went to Europe. Now I just feel like a poseur. I have no choice but to book my own safari. I wonder if I can get a gas generator that will fit on the back of a water buffalo. .

A friend asked me to make a mix CD for her. Now, mix CDs are a tricky business. A good mix is a careful balance of the mixer’s own tastes and those of the recipient. This isn’t the time to show off your musical geekiness (well, maybe just a little). But it’s mostly about creating a memorable listening experience for the recipient. The song selection should be diverse but the transitions shouldn’t be too jarring. No Billie Holliday followed by Nine Inch Nails. This isn’t your iPod on shuffle. The best mixes are those that a person can stumble upon a decade later–tucked away in some attic corner–and instantly remind one of that long-ago friend or lover as soon as the “play” button is pressed.

A couple things have occurred as I’ve followed press coverage describing the dysfunctional outpatient care infrastructure at the Army’s Walter Reed Medical Facility. First, is anyone really surprised that veterans’ ongoing health care needs are often ignored or inadequately treated once they’re outpatients? Haven’t we heard vets complain about the VA system since at least the 1960s? This administration has made a habit of underfunding health care for vets, but both parties have long ignored the crumbling bureaucracy that is supposed to care for our returned servicemembers.

Second–and Carol makes this point quite powerfully–the conditions uncovered at Walter Reed are no worse than those confronting countless people with disabilities who are warehoused in nursing homes and institutions across the country. The inadequacy of the care provided to our veterans is certainly deserving of attention, but our outrage and sympathy should not be limited to only those cases. Everyone who requires long-term care deserves to be treated humanely and with dignity.

I’m leaving in a bit to see Frankenlaw, a musical written and performed by U of M law students. You see, most people who go to law school are frustrated somethings-or-other. Writers, musicians, male strippers (as was the case with one person in my first-year study group); law school attracts high achievers who have tired of the bohemian life and have decided it might be nice to subsist on more than a steady diet of ramen noodles. We didn’t do anything nearly this cool when I was a student, which is a shame. The world missed its chance to hear the raw power of my tenor soprano.

If some tragic accident had befallen the Orpheum Theater last night, it probably would have taken out a good third of the local hipster population. The theme of the show was near and dear to my heart: television. I especially enjoyed David Rakoff’s piece about his experimental foray into the land of television after a two-decade absence. And the clips of the TAL tv show looked intriguing enough for me to want to download order Showtime.

Dan Savage, the sex columnist and author, also did a reading. Did I ever tell you that I made a semi-anonymous appearance in Savage’s column. You can read it here. I cringe a little bit now when I read it because my letter makes me sound like a whiny, inexperienced gimp with an inferiority complex. Savage doesn’t treat me kindly in his response, and rightly so. But I also like to think of that letter as a precursor to the more finely crafted rants and diatribes that eventually appeared on this blog.