Lileks, back from his Aegean trip, has started a new B&W series.
Also, summer camp reminiscences. Which makes me happy that the place I went to is still around. I still remember the swimming test. I had just had lessons at the high school, and passed everything to be allowed the run of the lake. One part was treading water for some duration (ten minutes, maybe). Another was diving down deep (maybe fifteen feet) to bring up a handful of muck. Probably with bloodsuckers in it.
A lot fewer than you’d think from watching teevee.
Lileks takes a vacation in Greece:
A few switchbacks up we found a nice niche that would have been an excellent spot for a small bar; seems it had served that function once, as it had benches and something like a table. We chatted with some Brits who were also dying but cheerful about it. They’d met some donkeys coming down, and the lass astride one of them leaned over and said “Worst Day of my Life.”
We continued on, up the shite-strewn path. By “567 steps” they mean a step, then a yard of irregular, ankle-snapping stone, followed by another step, followed by a yard of irregular, ankle-snapping stone smeared with ordure, and so on. Another herd of donkeys, this one thicker than the last, and not particularly concerned with our presence. Suddenly you realized you had two options: you would be crushed against the wall by donkeys, or pushed over the side by donkeys. Neither seemed appealing, just like the growing belief you would either suffer failure of the heart or the kidneys.
With pictures and video, of course.
Hates Obama. And thinks he’s a “socialist in disguise.” And Brad Pitt is an idiot, apparently.
It’s not a very good disguise.
I wish more people in Hollywood cared about that.
Liberate yourself, gentlemen.
I haven’t used the stuff since the last man walked on the moon.
The new Planet of the Apes movie appears to be quite disturbing. [Warning: Spoilers]
In our seats, waiting to hear him play banjo with a bluegrass band and Edie Brickell. Then, the fireworks.
[Saturday-morning update]
What a great show. I hadn’t realized how seriously Martin had gotten into his music in the last few years. He’s equally adept at both bluegrass fingerpicking and clawhammer, and he and Brickell did some beautifully spooky songs in the latter style. He also hasn’t lost his comedic touch. “It’s always been my dream to play the Hollywood Bowl on the 4th of July. Call me crazy, but I feel that, as I step on this stage, I’ve taken a big step in that direction.” (Paraphrase).
Only disappointment was that the show wasn’t long enough, and the fireworks (accompanied by a medley of Sousa tunes from the Air Force Band of the Golden West, ending with the classic Stars and Stripes Forever) less spectacular than I’ve gotten used to in recent years, but still well worth the money and effort to attend.
[Update a while later]
One other thing. Paul Simon made a guest appearance, and sat in for a song.
I can’t imagine what is going through the minds of people who take pictures of their junk at all, let alone send it across the ether.