There are some things that just won't fit enough to make one entry apiece.
Under the near-flat screen computer monitor here in the living room, we've got a white weather clock with a digital display. 9:01 a.m., a symbol of the sun under "FORECAST", and this says that it's 67.7 degrees in here, with 50% humidity. You'd think that would lend itself to a cool day, and maybe it will, but yesterday, with the same weather, it was pretty warm.
I've been reading Dreams & Schemes: My Decade of Fun in the Sun, a compilation of columns by Steve Lopez of the Los Angeles Times. The Soloist as a book got big play when it came out, and it's disappointing at first that these columns were relegated to a smaller publisher, but you know, it feels right. Camino Books, Inc. is no-nonsense, here's the book in floppy paperback, and read all you want. He's always been Los Angeles, but this brings him right back into the bits and streams of this particular world. I hope he makes something off of it. I'm no help, since I checked it out from the library yesterday.
Treme came from Netflix, and I watched the first episode yesterday morning and the second episode this morning. There's not only attention to the new, conflicted, heartbroken world that emerged from Katrina, but also the anger toward the federal government for their utter failure not only in doing anything right away to save the people of New Orleans, but for levees that were a failure in construction and maintenance. John Goodman as Creighton Bernette embodies this in a rant during an interview with a British reporter, and it's apt, since Goodman has lived in New Orleans for years. The viewpoint of Treme is so wide-ranging, taking in the musicians that live to make New Orleans alive again, those who struggle to pick up what's still left, and those who have no clue about New Orleans beyond what they see on TV, such as the three members of a Christian group who have flown out from Wisconsin to rebuild one of the wards. They don't quite understand the world that has emerged. And then there are those, faceless, who say that the city shouldn't be rebuilt. These citizens, even fictional, still represent those who believe that not only should it be rebuilt, but it needs to live again, lively and important to all those who made New Orleans home. It would be like asking after an earthquake if parts of California should be rebuilt, holding that very same doubt. New Orleans is just as much a part of the United States as anywhere else in the nation.
Today, Dad, Meridith and I are planning to walk through a food truck festival going on where all the cars of this valley are sold. Food trucks of all kinds will be there, including one that sells quesadillas and nachos (my area) and one that sells cheeseballs (I think Meridith's going to try to buy up everything from that one). There's also a Jewish food festival in the huge parking lot at College of the Canyons, and Dad wants to stop by that one, though I'm sure it's pretty much the same as it was last year in the parking lot of what used to be Bristol Farms, when Bristol Farms was still there. There's also a food truck that sells "potato tornados", fried twists of a potato on a stick, with the option of sausage within it. There's a lot of possibilities and this will be our first time amidst food trucks. They're omnipresent in Los Angeles, but never like this in this valley.
I doubt I'll be able to burn off all the calories consumed from this festival while walking past everything that's offered, but hey, exercising right after eating and while eating sounds like a good deal to me. Just a quesadilla, nachos, and whatever else I don't know about yet and I'm good.
