If you want to write about anything even remotely interesting, you might have to worry your mom and dad. My mom and dad, for instance, did not know that someone died of smoke inhalation looking down the crater of the very same volcano I had looked down a couple days before.
My dad claims to want to know if I was giving the jail portion of my dating advice from personal experience, but my guess is that he only thinks he wants to know this.
Most parents would probably prefer not to know when their daughter accidentally board airplanes with knives and other implements of destruction or whether their daughter unknowingly chats with heroin addicts.
The latest thing my parents would probably rather not know is that a gunshot was fired through the front window of KPFT a mere 12 hours or so after I had the kids there to volunteer. Here's my sweet pea taking a pledge while my son looks on, not that I was proud of her or anything:
Just, y'know, a public service announcement: among all the other good, decent human beings, there are kids in that building folks! Not a great place for target practice.
But that's not what I came to tell you about. I came to talk about the draft.
Oh no, wait!!!!!! I didn't come to talk about the draft. I came to tell you about my summer and the fact that mine's over. I will now be able to return to writing about preschoolers and their bodily functions.
I meant to do something productive with my summer, like write a book or learn Hebrew or something. But I forgot. I did manage to bring my kids to a fair number of museums and some live music too. I went to Buffalo. I testified in court that a friend of mine actually does feed her daughter.
And, of course, I took pictures of bathrooms, mostly bar bathrooms and lots of them. Even though they didn't win one of my bathroom awards, I figure they're still worth a look.
Here's the bathroom at Lola's. The thing about Lola's is that one Lola's drink can be as strong as three drinks anywhere else, so that by the time you hit the restroom, it's cleanliness doesn't seem quite so urgent:
Not bad, is it? The floor is ugly, and the ceiling might be even worse, but look: they've got the graffiti framed!What more could you want from a place that serves $1.50 drinks until 11:00 p.m.?