I haven't been around much this summer on the blogosphere. I've been a bit busy and, quite frankly, my summer has not been all that exciting. Nothing to report. I've been trying to be very disciplined with working out, singing and doing morning pages (from The Artist's Way). I've also been trying to keep my son's brain from atrophying so we've been doing math and reading all summer.
I hope I haven't lost you to boredom yet but you can see why there's not much to blog about. We did see U2's 360 tour a couple of weeks ago. I was completely underwhelmed. The sound was not good where we were sitting and we kept trying to find a better listening point. The stage itself was supposed to make the concert feel intimate. Instead, I felt like I was watching it on YouTube. This is coming from a diehard U2 fan. Well, I was. Back in the day, I could tell you anything you needed to know about those guys and I had such a crush on Larry Mullen. I might still do. I think I may be a bit over them now. Bono just seems too preachy to me these days. At the end of the concert he wanted the audience to sing Happy Birthday to Nelson Mandela. These guys are Irish, we're in Philadelphia, it was Bastille Day and we sang Happy Birthday to Nelson Mandela? I like Nelson Mandela, don't get me wrong but it seemed just so out of place. I get that Africa is in a crisis. I understand. But if Bono is so gung-ho about this cause, why doesn't he sell off some of his houses or motorcycles or guitars (that he can't play, damn did I say that out loud?) to help the cause. I mean, either practice what you preach or don't preach. My apologies to the U2 fans out there.
A side note on singing: I found a new singing teacher whom I love and I have made such progress since switching to her. And, she's a lovely human being. It's like a win-win-win.
I don't go to Trader Joe's for the social aspect. Yes, they are kind and unique grocery store but I don't actually want to hang out there for the afternoon, if you know what I mean. One day, and this is good, the customer in front of me, instead of packing his groceries, was speaking Klingon to the cashier. Klingon! Really? This isn't a freakin' cocktail party. I'm not even sure Klingon would go over well at a cocktail party.
Now you know a bit more about the real me....the curmudgeon. Hopefully, it won't prevent you from reading future posts. But if it does, I understand. Just please, do me a favor? Pack your groceries at Trader Joe's? Deal?