George Clooney Will Not Leave My Backyard

Well, not exactly. Though there are a great many things in my backyard - two oak trees, one covered in ivy that is possibly of the poisonous variety, half a dozen bushes of unspecified type, one of which produces bright pink flowers in the dog days of summer, a handful of determinedly cheerful daffodils, more acorns than grass, one very confused Easter plant that bloomed purple one uncharacteristically warm January day and then proceeded to die on me, several former houseplants I did my best to kill, and mainly succeeded, and enough birds, squirrels, and chipmunks to attract two or three hopeful looking stray tomcats - but George Clooney is not among these. However, he's a few blocks over, shooting a movie in downtown Anderson. The filming has been going on for about two weeks now, apparently, but I haven't been downtown so I haven't experienced any of it. But this afternoon I ran into mini-Tinseltown, so to speak. I got detoured leaving the library to one block over onto Main Street, where there were more detours. Apparently, the film crew has taken over several streets and parking lots. I drove past several movie trailers, trucks with lots of big gadgets, some guys rolling a camera on a crane, and a crowd of about thirty folks holding cameras outside the old Calhoun hotel. I presume the filming is happening there (or else these folks will be considerably disappointed). The people made me laugh, because the crowd consisted solely of women - young, old and in between. some kids were there too. Mostly they looked bored. Some of them were big enough to cause me to wonder, oughten't they to be in school right now? The drive itself was surreal. I felt like I was on some cheesy movie ride at Universal Studios (which has a bad-ass Incredible Hulk roller coaster, by the way) except I definitely needed to keep both hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times, if you know what I mean. And I think you do. ;) Nudge nudge wink wink. So long story short? The two handsomest men in the world are in Anderson, SC right now, and I owe one of them a game of Scrabble. Maybe if I throw a bucket of water on the one in the backyard, he'll leave. Hey, it works when the tomcats fight one another.

Eminent Domain

Follow the link to an interesting local story about a man who strongly objected to eminent domain. It's all my students have been talking about these days. At least it got them off their Anna Nicole Smith obsession! That, and my requirement they could only mention her in context of her Supreme Court case from a few years back.

UPDATE: He's been sentenced to death. The link is in the post title.

A Treatise On Dishes

I can't decide if this is pure theoretical genius or complete and utter bullshit. Or both.

It starts out with a woman who has not done her dishes for a long, long time. So the thought process goes something like this:

"I must do the dishes before they evolve, set up their own governing system, and plot a takeover of the rest of the house (and instead of doing the dishes already, she goes off on a tangent). What kind of governmental system do you think dishes would set up? Would they go through the traditional humanoid process, beginning with tribes, and eventually evolving into oligarchies and feudalist societies? Would their version of the Magna Carta involve inherent dish rights only for knives and mixing bowls? Would it completely ignore the basic rights of salad plates and smaller cutlery, leaving them to continually drudge in mirthless toil for centuries? Would the dishes eventually evolve into a democracy, or would they prefer a communist collective? Perhaps a benevolent dictatorship, with the all-important rolling pin as the sole political and religious figure? Would he wear a pope hat and drive a popemobile? Oooh, I likee: dishes creating organized religion? Whom would they oppressed? Who are the women and minorities in the dish world? Most importantly, would the dish run away with the spoon?"

Long story short: It's Josh's day off, so he's doing the dishes. :)

The Worst Attempt Ever

Well, I've been on a quest for, say, the last seven weeks. Or so. Billy Joel is coming to the Bi-Lo center! I can't think that without becoming excited! The piano! The voice! Just half an hour from my home! Can you tell I'm psyched?

So the first time I hear this news, I immediately hie over to the internet (preparing to be crestfallen, because I'm no idiot) in search of ticket prices. And Lo, the cheapeth tickets for the show of the Man of Piano were available for sale at the priceth of forty drachmas plus five ($45 bucks). And Lara saw it, and it was not good. Not good.

So what's a woman to do? Clearly, not pay for the tickets. But how to get them free? The idea seemed good enough at first: win them! It was great. I was rocking out to Elton John, Eric Clapton, Stevie Nicks, John Denver (quit teasing), Bob Seger, and of course calling the radio station every single time I heard a Billy Joel song. The results are less than satisfactory. The show is a week away and I still haven't won tickets, AND if I have to listen to Rod Stewart one more time I'm tossing the car radio out the window.

So the moral of the story is six weeks of listening to Lite FM is fine, but seven will drive you nuts.