Attention Pacific Northwest: please claim your weather…
because it isn’t supposed to rain like this in the Midwest! We expect hail and tornadoes and just general wrath-of-God stuff with our rain, not this steady downpour for three days crap. What’s going on here? Where’s the ark?
While I’m thinking about it – Midwesterners, it’s just water. You aren’t going to melt if it hits you. (At least I hope you won’t. That’d suck, considering you’re made of the stuff.) Just wear a hat or carry an umbrella or something; people will understand, because it rained on them too.
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Friday after work I picked up some beer and a pizza and chilled at home. It was a rough week, and both beer and pizza were a welcome spot of relief. (Although sometimes I think Red Stripe goes down a bit too easy…)
Saturday R* and I hit the Japanese Festival at the nearby Missouri Botanical Garden. I knew that parking there would be a bitch, but I only live a couple blocks away, so I suggested we walk over. It was overcast, but warm, so I wore shorts and sandals; R* wore jeans and shoes and was a bit uncomfortable temperature-wise during the 6-block walk over. (R* would be sure to note at this point that they were long blocks.)
After the initial sticker shock at the gate ($10 to get in!), the Festival was enjoyable. It was actually a pleasant day – would have been stifling hot had the sun been out – so the walk around the Garden was a treat for all the senses. R* had his camera and took a bajillion pictures, as usual – although he was so busy with that that he missed out on watching the silly otaku dressed as Inu Yasha and Kagome making fools of themselves all throughout the place. (They weren’t embarrassed for themselves, but there was no need – everybody else was embarrassed for them. “Was that supposed to be Inu Yasha?” “Yeah, I think so.” “Oh, Lord, what a loser.”)
R* took me through the Climatron and we compared notes on tropical flora. His knowledge is a bit more than mine – duh, he grew up surrounded by these plants – but I think I held my own. (We did have a laugh when we came to the little candy machines – they were next to the signs for the cacao and the cashew trees, and dispensed – you guessed it – chocolate and cashews!) R* did manage to attract a bit of puzzled attention, though, when he started eating the flowers off one particular bush. (they taste like very subtle wood sorrel.)
After a while we stopped for food – I needed caffeine and sugar, and he needed something more substantial. I got some green tea ice cream and a fruit slush, while he got meat on a stick and a very delicious mushroom and noodle dish called Buddha’s Delight. (Please note – that site has the descriptions for Buddha’s Delight and Jungle Curry switched.) We ate, otaku-watched, checked out a bonsai exhibit, and wandered a bit more before heading out.
R* wasn’t quite ready for Greek food just yet so I foisted some Buster Keaton on him – specifically, his magnum opus, The General. In retrospect I should have started him off with The Playhouse, which would have been a better introduction to Keaton’s comic style and to silent film in general. (Memorable moment: “James, there’s no sound!” “Um, there isn’t supposed to be any. That’s why they call it a silent film.”)
After a bit of The General we hit the Greek Festival. R* was still mostly full from his meat and mushrooms and noodles, so he just had some tiropita and pastries; I was hungry, so I had salad and kebabs and spanakopita and a little piece of heaven. Afterwards we walked over to Ch� Yoon for bubble tea and boy-watching.
Sunday I didn’t do much. It was rainy, and I didn’t feel like going out or doing anything. Aside from playing Sonic Adventure in Japanese (makes it more challenging when you have no idea what you’re supposed to do; also, I love the way Tails says “Sonic-de!”), I ate dinner with my two younger brothers. The younger brother had plans for the night, so I wound up housing the youngest; first, though, I took him for bubble tea (but not at my usual spot – we hit St. Louis Bubble Tea, which is less Central West End-y and more Loop-y), and made him watch some Buster Keaton. (Yeah. I’m just a boba-and-Buster evangelist.)
Monday, more rain. blah. Youngest brother had to get some books for one of his classes (great timing, Dan) so I took him by a few bookstores after a quick stop at work. Finished off the evening unloading furniture from my parents’ trip to Oklahoma.
It seems my grandmother had never bothered to clean out my grandfather’s desk – not even before they were going to move it. I’m told that, when my uncle and father tipped the desk onto its side to get it through the door, one of the drawers opened, spilling glitter and Valium all over the floor. Now every time I think about it I picture my grandfather, in all his lanky greyness, as a cigarette boy at Studio 54… and double over laughing. (sorry, can’t find a better link.) Hi-larious.
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St. Louisans should read this piece from Memphis Magazine about ‘hidden treasures’ in town. I especially like the onion analogy – there are just so many layers to this place, and some are more fragrant than others.
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