Monday Mo

It's going to take at least two more cups of coffee to get my head into the new week.

My daughter apparently says all sorts of things, just not in my presence. As I explained to my mother, it's apparently a Michigan J. Frog effect. My mom didn't know the reference. One of the things that apparently gets said is mo-mo-mo meaning 'more' (not, apparently, in the manner of a Rebel Yell, however), as opposed to ma-ma-ma meaning 'mama,' which also gets said, just not around me. Everybody loves the Michigan Rag. Either that, or I am just so in tune with Charlotte that she sees no need to verbalize her mental state. Of course, Charlotte's mother does not favor that explanation, and I didn't want to push it on Mothers' Day weekend.

I was already in enough trouble. I had been talked into giving her her gift a week early (she's bad with surprises and I'm a pushover), which left me with nothing for the weekend. I got her another gift by accident on Friday night. I put a bid in on Morrissey tickets on E-Bay, with the idea that they wouldn't possibly sell for what I had offered, and then I could tell her I had thought of getting her the tickets (plus mark), tried to buy them (plus mark), but hadn't been willing to spend a bunch of money (double plus mark). So now I'm going to the Palace Theater on Friday. Don't get me wrong, the man's a genius and even without Johnny Marr (currently playing with Modest Mouse...how many words that start with "MO" are there in the English Language??), it'll be a show worth seeing, but my experience at shows like the Pixies and the Soft Boys has been a little depressing. At least that's the appropriate mood for a Morrisey show.

Where was I? Mothers' Day. We didn't do anything special. As a matter of fact, on Saturday, I explicitly didn't do something special. I backed out of volunteering at the ODP Dinner so I could go to a Northwestern University Alumni club event with my family. My wife, the NU alum, is a big HRC fan. Me, not so much, really. Therefore, me going without her seemed kind of cruel. I'm not sure if I missed anything. Joe Hallet says I would have been wildly enthusiastic. Jerid says I would have been sleeping. Who knows? As it turns out, I was several hundred yards away at Crew Stadium, watching a soccer game in the party area behind the goal underneath the scoreboard. None of us were aware that it was the home debut of the new Argentinian superstar, just that it was tremendously colder at 8pm than it had been at 4pm.

I'm typically the one into the sporting event, but I didn't feel too bad about not paying attention. I met a sportswriter for one of the largest papers in the state, and the game didn't hold his interest. I also met a media guy who is taking a communication job at the Statehouse. I think I owe my wife a favor.

Especially because the next day, the Holiday itself, I spent all day out back trying to bring our garage up to Bexley city code. I met some neighbors who sympathized with my efforts and complained a bit about the code enforcement, but honestly, I'm glad the city pays attention. We're a small city, and I'm still a newcomer, but I'm continually getting more obnoxious with civic pride. All of the articles about Hilary's visit talk about a recent audit of Ohio politics done by David Wilhelm, former WJ Clinton campaign manager, former DNC head, and current Bexley Resident. And while Mr. Clinton will be speaking at the OSU commencement, Bexley High School's commencement will apparently feature BHS alumnus Frank Lesser, Emmy-nominated writer for the extremely funny Colbert Report.

So now it's Monday Morning, and time to actually start doing stuff.

Like drinking coffee.