Super Tuesday: Hillary, it is!

Today, I voted for Hillary Clinton, and while I had reservations beforehand (and even during!) my vote, I have come across some commentary that makes me feel a lot better about my decision.

First, consider this stunning article by Robin Morgan. She brings up some points that I wish I had in hand months ago. I was particularly taken by her noting the fact that while the older Kennedys embrace Obama, the younger members of the clan are siding with Hillary--so much for him being the beacon for the youth vote. She also offers an intense review of the mysogyny at root of so much of the anti-Hillary sentiment (and no, men aren't the only folks spreading it around). And she offers a pretty good summation of why a vote for Hillary makes the most sense. An excerpt:

"I’d rather say a joyful Hello to all the glorious young women who do identify with Hillary, and all the brave, smart men—of all ethnicities and any age—who get that it’s in their self-interest, too. She’s better qualified. (D’uh.) She’s a high-profile candidate with an enormous grasp of foreign- and domestic-policy nuance, dedication to detail, ability to absorb staggering insult and personal pain while retaining dignity, resolve, even humor, and keep on keeping on. (Also, yes, dammit, let’s hear it for her connections and funding and party-building background, too. Obama was awfully glad about those when she raised dough and campaigned for him to get to the Senate in the first place.)"

Plus:

"Me? I support Hillary Rodham because she’s the best qualified of all candidates running in both parties. I support her because she’s refreshingly thoughtful, and I’m bloodied from eight years of a jolly 'uniter' with ejaculatory politics. I needn’t agree with her on every point. I agree with the 97 percent of her positions that are identical with Obama’s—and the few where hers are both more practical and to the left of his (like health care). I support her because she’s already smashed the first-lady stereotype and made history as a fine senator, because I believe she will continue to make history not only as the first U.S. woman president, but as a great U.S. president.

"As for the 'woman thing'?

"Me, I’m voting for Hillary not because she’s a woman—but because I am."

Secondly, somehow I missed the bit about Barack Obama campaigning with an "ex-Gay" gospel singer in South Carolina, a man who said, in short, that lesbians do not exist.

(Allow me to reply: Actually, it's ex-Gays who don't exist. Ex-straights, on the other hand? We are legion.)

If you want to learn more about this little under-reported debacle, I suggest you read the Salon.com article, "Obama: Don't pander to homophobes," by James Hannaham. (If they let you.) An excerpt:

"Obama's gay advocates obviously support him regardless of this fumble. But his gay critics are right to ask why he thinks getting homosexuals to sit at the same table with antigay and allegedly 'ex-gay' Christians represents some kind of balance. Had McClurkin been a Holocaust denier, my money says Obama would be 'embracing a change' in his tour's entertainment lineup, lickety-split.

"It shouldn't surprise anyone that Obama is playing to both sides -- that seems to be what he's best at. He means well, but you know what they say about the highways in hell. However, adding Sidden to the mix without giving McClurkin the shaft was enough of an afterthought to incense the gay community without fixing the problem. Did Obama overestimate the depth of the black community's homophobia and unintentionally solidify the stereotype about him -- that he's the white man's black candidate? Well, if Sharpton refuses to pander to the homophobic faction of the black church, why should anybody else?"

Now, pardon me, I must go make a donation to Hillary's campaign.....

Do I flip a coin?

I am in such a quandary over the upcoming primary, I don't know what to do. Just when I think I've "decided," some new piece of information comes up, and I'm back in voting limbo yet again.

Could I vote for "Hirack Clinbama," possibly?

My latest preference was for Hillary. GWB has left the country in such disrepair, I thought it was imperative that the next president be able to act, and act quickly, to fix our country. There's just so much "cleaning up" to do, and the Clintons have years of experience cleaning up after Republican-made messes. Barack, on the other hand, has no such experience, and I feared that charisma or no charisma, movement or no movement, he would soon find himself up against some very unpleasant characters in Washington who were immune to his charms, to put it mildly. What then? What happens when your major claim to fame doesn't play in the trenches? And you don't have the option of voting "present"?

Well, that held me for a while. Then I read the endorsements of MoveOn.org, someone in The Nation, and beyond. And one of our neighbors, who, forgive me, I would have pegged as McCain devotees, put a Obama sign up in their yard just this week. In fact, we've seen countless Obama signs in our neighborhood and one Edwards--but none, not one, for Hillary.

And we had dinner with friends last night who derided Clinton as a part of the machine. Which, compared to Obama, she certainly is.

But I don't think she's as much of a "tool" as her husband was; but then, I could be wrong. And Obama certainly offers hope to a lot of people, which is not something one hears about Hillary (except from middle-aged and older women, I should add, but our dreams should not be the basis of such a major decision).

I dunno. If I could only grasp the Obama charm, that might help. But I don't. But then, I don't really look for charm in my candidates. I voted for the "old" Al Gore and John Kerry, for pity's sake.

Ah, heck. Whatever happens, I'll be voting for the Democratic candidate come November. And whoever it is, I hope the quanitifiable, verifiable and Electoral College-agreeable majority of voting Americans follows suit.

Two much!

We heard about a couple of dachshunds who needed a home--and fast--from our petsitter, and thought we should have them over, just in case Shwea took a shine to them.

Well, they were adorable, as one would imagine, but not to Shwea. They were a hair-raising, snarl-inducing duo who left her shaken, not stirred. The older one wasn't the issue; it was the younger, un-fixed one who thought Shwea's Back 40 was fascinating--he was the problem.

Oh well, it was worth a shot.

There are other people interested in the dogs, happily, so it's not as though we were the last stop before the gallows.

Still, it would have been nice to have a little more animal life around here--but these two were too much for our reigning animal, Her Highness Shwea.

And whatever Shwea wants, Shwea gets......

Now what?

So, Dennis K. has dropped out of the race, Ted and Caroline K. are backing Barak O. (who I think has more potential to become another Jimmy C. than another Jack K.), and Hilary C. is not exactly inspiring confidence, so what's a liberal democrat to do?

Put her head on her desk, that's what......

What are you doing?

Congressman update: Learned that my cousin also inspired a 0% rating from the AFL-CIO. (No wonder mother spoke of him but little!)

Goodbye, Uncle Rich!

Last Wednesday, my Uncle Richard breathed his last. We couldn't imagine Rich without Barb, and apparently, neither could he.

I miss him, and his stack of yet-to-be-read magazines, very much. He was a fabulous uncle, and won me over when I was just a wee one (he did a great duck imitation, let me tell you). He was of the co-conspirator school, and would wink and call you over to discuss "secrets" that were just hilarious nonsense.

Wonderful, delirious nonsense.

He and Barb shared wonderful senses of humor and tremendous style--two things our family did not exactly have in abundance, shall we say.

We'll muddle on somehow, but life is a little less absurd and a lot less tasteful, now that they're gone.

Ah, the shame continues

One of my compatriots suggests that my cousin the Congressman isn't as bad as he could be. Reviewing his record, one wonders what, exactly, that could mean. Perhaps my source is mistooken, but according to this site, the Congressman is a Moderate Republican of the rightward leaning variety, which means he is:

PRO
Death penalty
Gun ownership
Patriot Act
Privatization of Social Security
School prayer
School vouchers
Tax cuts for the wealthy

AGAINST
Abortion
Gay adoption
Gay marriage
Public health initiatives

Of course, he could be for public stonings of gays who have had abortions--that would be worse (certainly for me, his cousin), but good golly, he doesn't look so good from here!

But one site should not be my sole source--I will investigate further, and report back.

Ennis, we miss you!

I strive to keep clear of celebrity gossip (unless I'm in a doctor's office and there are People magazines around; then, I'm powerless), but I can't get enough info about what happened to Heath Ledger.

Linda and I are so sad he's gone--we thought he should have received the Oscar for his nuanced performance in "Brokeback Mountain," but figured an actor of his talent would have other chances.

So much for that, eh?

How liberal am I?

I've taken three "Who should you vote for (for president)?" tests and Dennis K. was "my" candidate each and every time.

I think that qualifies me as a liberal.

Or hopeless.

Hopeless liberal?

Family secret NO MORE!

In the church basement set, a favorite expression is, "You're as sick as your secrets." Well, apparently I have been keeping an aspect of my background on the down-low, and it has been suggested to me that I may be keeping this information in the family closet, as it were.

As a person with a comprehensive website, blog and MySpace page, I'm not exactly a closed book. However, there is a part of my family history that I haven't addressed, and well, I guess it's time to address it. My quiet on this issue hasn't been part of some elaborate cover-up--I am not mentally equipped for covert operations, as anyone who knows me can verify--but rather, a family/Midwestern/Catholic tendency to just leave things (particularly unpleasant things) be.

You see, back in Wisconsin, I have a cousin who is--well, there's just no way to sugar-coat this, so I'll just get it out--a Republican. Not only that, he's a member of Congress.

Yes, I, Ann Podolske, life-long liberal and mid-life lesbian, have a card-carrying and vote-making member of the GOP in my family tree.

How did this happen? Well, no one can really say how such things happen, but I do have a theory. The Congressman's father, my uncle and dear mother's only brother, was lost in WWII, and as a result, the Congressman wasn't raised with any Democratic influence at all, poor dear.

I guess he's a Republican because he just doesn't know any better. And while some might think that I, as a member of his family, have the duty to try to help the Congressman see the error of his ways, I know that I am powerless over how he votes on bills (the wrong way, typically), and that all I can do is take care of myself, donate to my favorite lefty causes, vote Democratic, and pray for him.

If there were a GOP-anon, I'd belong, but alas, there is no such organization.

Yet.

Good show, great view from the pews, bad news

Last night's set at The Studio was a "keeper," indeed. Did a mix of bits on drinking, aging and gay marriage--what a combo, come to think--that appeared to keep the packed-in-like-sardines audience laughing. Of course, I failed to ask Rick for a DVD (have absolutely no sense as to when I'll do well, alas), but he graciously offered to make me one afterwards.

And there will be more Studio dates in my future, as well, which, after a show like last night's, sounds just grand. Thank you, Mr. Jenkins.....

As for today, Linda and I also had a good morning at our newly-adopted place of worship--yes, it has come to this.

Good thing, for I came home to learn that my last remaining uncle is now a candidate for hospice, poor dear. Since my aunt died, his health has deteriorated dramatically--this past week he was declared not even fit enough for the Alzheimer's ward, for pity's sake! He's also not eating, which really signals the end for our people. Most people, actually.

We're hoping for a miracle, but the thing is, I doubt that he is. Looks like he's just tired and ready to go home.

It finally dawned on me: I'm in my Loss Years. One has many years where death is but an eventuality, and then, when you're lulled into a false sense of security, the Loss-A-Thon begins.

Oh, I was going to devote this New Year to The Comedy, wasn't I? Sorry about that!

For the Linda archives....

My own Ms. Malaprop now has two horse-themed misstatements to her name. To wit:

1) Don't look a gift horse in the house.
2) That was the horse that broke the camel's back.

I anxiously await the third, so I can add it to my "Linda segment" that she has been lobbying so heavily for--yes, yes, be careful what you wish for, indeed.

Now, I don't speak with the precision of a Henry Higgins, say, but Linda makes me feel positively erudite. But when I'm not sure of a quote, I do the rising inflection business--you know, the question-mark-in-the-voice trick--to show my lack of confidence in my speech. Linda, on the other hand, speaks with authority no matter what, and so one hears the mangle, but doesn't quite believe his or her ears.

A talent, that.

Hasta la vista, 2007!

While I thought 2005 had distinguished itself as a year for the "Into each life some rain must fall" archives--it was the year I lost 70% of my long-term job and had my first colonoscopy, after all--2007 was a doozie.

Linda and I had to say goodbye to our cat Oatmeal, my dear aunt Barb, and, as if that weren't enough for one year, our dear shepherd mix Linus, aka Lamby man. That just happened on the 28th of December, and we're still reeling. (We put together a web site in his honor--it's helped a lot, and I highly recommend putting some sort of archive on your loved one together to anybody who is grieving.)

As you might imagine, The Comedy was not a prevailing feature of 2007, which I now consider the Year of the Loss-a-Thon. However, one of the few bright spots emerging from the death of Linus is that I no longer have the responsibility of being a home health care aid for a dog, so I will have more time and freedom to pursue gigs in 2008. Linda and I will also be able to travel a bit more, and that will be good for us, too.

But who knows what this year may bring? A new dog, most likely. (Even though she's no mere slip of a girl, the house is just too darn empty with "just" Shwea in it.) Otherwise, it's anyone's guess, and I, for one, am full of hope for the New Year.

Yes, some people never learn. ;-)

Happy What-Have-You!

This logo comes from the aptly-named House of Wisconsin cheese in Madison. The place for cheesecurds and all things gloriously tacky with Wisconsin themes, such as cheesehead hats, Bucky Badger and Packer chotchkes of all description and more cow paraphenalia than you can shake an udder at (not that one should do such things). I asked the proprietor if I could place this logo on my blog, as I, too, am a "genuine article" from America's Dairyland, and feel I've earned the right to this badge of wholesome honor...of sorts. He kindly agreed.

Besides, so many people have "Holiday" themed nonsense on their blog--I thought it would be nice to have something different, don't you?

Well, there isn't much to catch up on at the moment, but once we've opened our presents, there may be. Christmas in Lesbianville--you know there's some Carhartt involved, but that's all I'm saying, for now.

MySpace isn't the only space in town....

According to my sources, many of the entries in the blog I began on MySpace won't be accessible to anyone but MySpace members, and I am never comfortable with restrictions on info, even my humble mutterings.

So I'm going to try to keep posting in both places, but for simplicity's (if not sanity's) sake, I may ditch my old, decrepit website over on Verizon.

Besides, I have been reading Dr. Wayne Dyer's book on the Tao lately, and per the dear doctor, the Tao suggests jettisoning as much "stuff" as possible.

Particularly stuff one likes.

While I am a fan of the "less is more" school, I can't say that I'm quite ready to give up a few of my favorite things quite yet. But, with Linda raising the Early Retirement spectre early and often, I have begun getting rid of things that I don't really need that cost me money. For instance, I cancelled an e-mail account I have had since the dawn of time today that I only used to gain dial-up access out at the cottage about twice this summer. Maybe once. $18/month for one dialup per year just doesn't seem worthwhile, does it?

Now, I'm going to look over the old website and see if its time is nigh. It won't save me any money to give it the heave-ho, but it may lighten my psychic load.

And if any gal needs her psychic load lightened, it is yours truly.

Bandwagon. Jumped upon.

Well, I finally got the gumption (thanks to some prodding by my Comedy Buddy and coworker, Jennifer Myszkowski) and now have a page on MySpace.

Thought it was for the young'uns, but after roaming around in the comedy section, I realize that my preconceptions were just that: Based on speculation, not fact.

Looks like this page could signal the end of this Blogger account. The MySpace comedy page not only features a blog, but it also offers a nice place to display coming shows--rather a one-stop shop for anyone interested in yours truly or The Comedy. Don't know if you've noticed, but I barely keep up with this page--to keep up this page, my web site and a MySpace page would take more time than I have.

Well, it's time for dinner. We'll see what we do.....

Retirement-planning on the cheap

Linda has been on sabbatical for about four weeks now, which means she has not been going to work.

Newsflash: She's enjoying being out of the Corporate realm very, very much.

Shocking, isn't it?

Since I work from home three days a week, this means we've had all sorts of time together that we didn't used to. A circumstance which, you can imagine, has its upsides as well as down. My favorite part of her sabbatical is that she is much happier, which is a very good thing. My second-favorite part has to be the opportunity it gives me to hear Linda say things, typically without any context, that just crack me up. Recent examples:

"I like cupcakes."
"I am sort of excited about the gutter guard."
"You never understand me sometimes."

That last quote suggests one of the downsides, for if there's something Linda loves, it's a project. When she was at work, she directed her project management skills on work-related issues to great effect; my concern is that now that she's at home, she may focus her formidable talents on home-related issues. In other words: Me.

I have no desire to be a homo-improvement project, mind you, and hope that the gutter guards or other exciting feature of our home grab her attention instead. Here's hoping!

One other charming (okay, and alarming) thing Linda has taken to doing is checking her retirement plans with the 8 Ball I have in our office. She's asking it, "Should I retire?" And the damn thing's been saying, "Yes."

I asked it myself, and it said the same thing. Even asked it if we'd have enough money, and it said, "Without a doubt."

It must know something I don't, but if this keeps up, I may soon be a sole breadwinner.

Yeah, I like the sound of that as much as I like the idea of being a homo-improvement project, but let's just wait and see.

Besides. I like cupcakes, too.

Surprises galore

Am sooooo sorry for the gloomy turn this blog has taken, but I know from painful, firsthand experience that you can run, but you can't hide, from reality. And reality? It has its gloomy parts.

But surprises often break through the gloom, which keeps things interesting. And infinitely less depressing.

For instance, we were sure that Linus, our dear shepherd mix, was going to go to Doggie Heaven not terribly long ago. He was listless, he wasn't even sitting up to eat, and when it was meal time, he was refusing his favorite foods. He wasn't even interested in liverwurst, disgusting stuff that he used to drool a river over (which was disgusting too, but it made him oh-so-happy). In short, he was taking a "Is that all there is?" attitude to everything. In short: He was Peggy Lee with paws.

To see if there was something else afoot, in mid-October we called the house call vet in to give him a checkup and to ask her opinion of where he was on the quality of life scale. After looking him over, she told me he was a candidate for euthanasia, and she could do it right then. Immediately. Like, now. I was taken aback, shall we say, and said I would have to talk it over with Linda, so the vet gave me a number of days that she could come back and put him down, and I saw her out the door.

I then had a very painful cry (as opposed to a "good cry"--it certainly wasn't one of those), then gathered myself together and went to see how Linus was doing.

He was doing well. Really well. He was sitting up, eyes aglow and looking as perky as perky could be.I think his tail might have even been wagging. A little. He wasn't walking or anything, but he was a new dog. And I think he was trying to tell me something.

All he needed was a sign saying, "Hell no, I won't go!"

Surprising indeed. In fact, he's been doing pretty well ever since the vet came by, though he has had moments of food fussiness. He had been eating Dinty Moore beef stew--also a disgusting enterprise--like it was going outta style, then suddenly turned his considerable nose up at it. It was as though his senses came to their senses.

But no matter what, he eats baby food--yes, baby food--with abandon. As long as it's fed to him with a spoon.

Yes, I feed baby food to my dog with a spoon. You got a problem with that?

I'm not the first. This baby-food-with-a-spoon business was something my cousin in Wisconsin said she did for an ailing dog of hers, and it has been our culinary Ace in the Hole with this guy. (Thanks, Pat!)

It's genetic, I think. At my aunt's memorial, both Pat and I were there solo. Our respective spouses (she married a guy--it happens in the best of families) were both home, tending sick dogs.

This, apparently, is what my people do.

As for the memorial, it was a little bizarre, and not in a good way. The primary oddness was that it was led by a priest. My aunt was Catholic, true, but she wasn't a church-going Catholic. I think she was more than a little scarred by her religious upbringing (how unusual) and as an adult, found the whole church-centered enterprise a giant waste of time. She was a Christian in deed, not in pomp and circumstance.

At least that's my take on it--we didn't discuss such matters in my family. (We didn't discuss most matters--except politics--in my family.)

Anyway, the priest had a whole religious service put together, including a reading by yours truly--yes, the dyke in the woodpile read from the Good Book. (No, there was no thunder or lightening.)

I was annoyed at first, for had I been told I was to give a reading by the members of the family deciding such things (again, we don't discuss most matters), I would have found something appropriate. Instead, the priest had me read something that I couldn't make heads nor tails of, and when I suggested we find something more suitable, he told me he would rather we keep this piece, for it was the "crux" of his entire service. So, not having an alternative at the ready or a spine (for that matter), I read it. For him (for of course, the service was all about him).

(Any residual bitterness about the Catholic church, Ann? Oh no, not me!)

There was a surprise here, too. When I got up to do the reading, I began reading the wrong thing. Not on purpose, I promise--but my passive-aggressive subconscious (or was it Barb?) had me mess it up but good. I stopped myself after I realized my mistake and after I apologized to the peeps and Barb herself, we had a light chuckle and I finished my task and sat down.

I was a bit aflutter at first, but then my sister-in-law said something kind (she can't help herself) and my cousin Pat whispered to me, "Barb would have liked that goof most of all."

Maybe. But I think she would have been most touched by the comments made by my brother, who could have had a tremendous career as a speech maker for any occasion if he hadn't been so darned intent on a life in public service (go figure). He summed up the many literal and figurative gifts she gave us wonderfully, as well as her tremendous humor. For instance: He opened his comments by reporting what Barb would say in mock exasperation each time she opened the door to us. "What--you again? Well, I suppose you should come on in..."

Lovely, that.

Anyway, I have gone on, haven't I? Sorry, but I have been away, and felt some catching up was in order. Now, I must get to work, which is, bless me, something I get to do from home today. Ah, flexible work arrangements. (Can I hear "Amen"?)

And now that some of my gloom has lifted, I am thinking about The Comedy anew. Good thing, for there's another Girls!Girls!Girls! on the horizon (November 30, to be specific). Go to my "Comic Attempts" page for details, if this is of any interest to you.

Trying times, these

My dear aunt is gone, one of my dear dogs is going to join her in the not-too-distant future, and my dearest has been having a challenging time.

And her challenges are my challenges, don't you know.

Sigh.

Am reminded of a lyric from a song on one of my Ella Fitzgerald CDs: "Into each life, some rain must fall, but too much too much too much is falling in mine...."

Indeed.

But this too shall pass, as they say, which is cold comfort when "this" includes one of the sweetest creatures on the planet.

And The Comedy has taken a back seat to all of this "stuff," as you can imagine. Alas, there's sad news on this front, too. Jimmy Tingle is letting the lease on his fabulous theater lapse, so there will be no more Jimmy Tingle Off-Broadway as of November 1.

The man and his staff knew how to treat comics, and his theater could be tremendously intimate with the right crowd.

It was also the site of my favorite show ever, the Laughing Liberally Tour of 2006.

Oh well.

I haven't been posting. Now you know why.

Count yer blessings, eh?

Not exactly standup fodder, but...

Spent a long weekend in Wisconsin tending to a dying aunt and dementia-ridden uncle, which will never be a lead-in to a successful joke. Thing is, despite the gravity of the situation, my aunt found humor in much of what was going on, and while she couldn't laugh (her remaining lung is what's failing her), she was causing mirth among her family, friends and health care workers while I was there. For example:

When the hospice nurse told that she was about to get a nebulizer treatment, she responded, "Oh, goody!" Her next-door neighbor (and dear friend) who was in the room said, "Really? You like these treatments?" To this, my aunt replied with an eye roll and what could only be called a growl. The neighbor laughed and said, "Oh, you're being sarcastic. You'd think after all of these years I would have known that!"

Sarcasm has long been a forte of this aunt, but her sharp wit has also long been tempered by incredible sweetness. She was always very generous to friends and family, and with all of the helpful people in her home this weekend, I have a lot more faith in the concept of karma. She also spent a lot of what little breath she had left on instructions as to the health and well-being of other people. She asked visitors more than once if they were cold--not because she was, but because she was worried that they were. She also worried about her husband, and gave me the unenviable task of asking him if he'd been tending to his business. (You haven't lived until you've approached your 80-something uncle and said, "Uncle, I hope you don't mind, but Auntie was wondering if you've been to the bathroom....")

Of course, this hasn't all been a Hallmark movie for my aunt. She went without oxygen at home for a very long time because of some ridiculous Medicare requirements that required her to go the ER on a regular basis for oxygen until she was practically blue. Where is the sense in that? It has to be cheaper to have an oxygen tank at home than to use the ER to breathe, doesn't it?

And then there was the "Angel" recommended by the hospice who was going to spend the night at their house until the end. Well, this gal not only smoked on a regular basis (great for someone working with a lung patient, don't you think?), but she didn't just smoke cigarettes and--this is the clincher--she was a born-again recovering alcoholic who cautioned my aunt of the damnation that awaits her if she doesn't [fill-in-the-blank]. Yes, the hospice hooked my aunt up with a pothead preacher.....

My aunt was never one to suffer fools or fundamentalists gladly, so this person presented a unique challenge, shall we say. I wasn't at their house during this episode, but the "Angel" only spent one night at the house, and relatives and friends have been filling in for the rest of the time.

Another funny (to me, I'm not well in the noggin', you know) episode was what she said on occasion. After a long silence, she woke up and told my cousin she had to use the commode before they came to pick her up. Who "they" were was unclear, but where she was going was fairly plain, and my cousin and I were both amused that they suggested she approach the Hereafter with an empty bladder. How very tidy of them!

She also woke with a start and started feeling her head--apparently, "they" were trying to take her hair. Why, I don't know, but "they" were much with her over the weekend, and I think she was being eased over to whatever or wherever is next by these people, even if they had a slightly bizarre set of priorities....

There's not much more to report, but I am very, very glad I made this trip. I have not spent this much time with my aunt and uncle in recent memory, and I felt honored--privileged, even--to be able to spend a portion of my aunt's last days with her. (She's still alive, but not expected to make it through the night.)

On other fronts, it dawned on me this weekend that while the Northeast has the f-bomb, the Midwest drops the "crap" bomb when circumstances warrant. Good thing for me, for "crap" is a workplace-approved term at Big Company--and at my aunt and uncle's house, it turns out.

Good night at The Studio

Last night's show at The Comedy Studio was a success, and this gal needed that. During the day yesterday I was the source of frequent irritation for my significant other, which, shall we say, did not exactly put a spring in my step.

True, I know the source of most of this irritation is not me but stress, which we have had by the truckload for months now. Though we love him dearly, the care and feeding of our increasingly decrepit Linus is wearing. Plus, we've both been just knocking ourselves out at work on a regular basis, and there's no end in sight.

Sigh.

Anyway, heading off to a comedy show under the emotional weather, I was understandably ambivalent about how it was all going to work. I wanted to try some new material, but didn't really have the time to test it out beforehand, thanks to my boycott of a certain convenient open mic that got my knickers in a serious knot.

What got my knickers knotted? They had begun charging comics for performing, for pity's sake--I know every performance space is short of money, but charging your performers is a mercenary bit of business, IMHO, and on par with bringer shows (in some clubs, you can perform at an open mic only if you "bring" six paying customers along), which are popularity contests, not comedy showcases. Good news: Rumor has it they have stopped hitting up the talent--I would be very happy if that was the case, for there are precious few places to test material in this neck of the woods, and eventually my coworkers will tire of being comic guinea pigs.

That said, I went up and did my usual material to great result, and even snuck in a little new stuff that didn't exactly wow, but showed promise. Happily, I had a DVD made, and now have a set that I can and will use to try to get more work, once I am free to pursue comedy work with abandon. (As long as Linus needs round-the-clock care, however, I will be only doing the minimum to keep my comic fires burning.)

And not only did I have a good set, but both Jennifer and I got a bunch of new dates from our friend Rick Jenkins. (Jennifer had an incredible set, too--that gal is comic force to contend with, let me tell you!)

So, even though I left home feeling a bit of a zero, I left The Studio feeling rather okay about it all.

And that, my friends, qualifies as progress in these parts.