Basically Just Exactly

Chicago, you're no good for me. We both know. Here and there for a moment, it becomes clear to me that you love this, this thing you do. You can't not, I suppose, and then I love that you love it, and we laugh about it, and I love you again. I smile and offer directions to tourists and don't lie to them like I'm tempted to when they're toting Cheesecake Factory to-go bags and looking for the American Girl Store. When the older women on my street pass by with their tiny dogs and throw tiny looks at some tiny half-pajama outfit, I smile and say hello and good morning and what is his/her name? I wear sunglasses and walk south for coffee, dodging stray sprays from the sprinklers in the patches of grass between the sidewalk and curb, tiny fenced-in, manicured plots still wet from yesterday's rain. It's hot and sunny this morning, will rain hard later, and I've just made outdoor plans for this evening.

We're together, then not, but I fall for you again and again, each time I'm on a train that's not too bad and the light's just right. Budweiser, Beatles, whatever; it's gorgeous and I love it because it works and makes me happy in spite of all else. And this video does too.

Do what you want, you always do, but I suggest watching this a few times; Chicago, palimpsestic.

Let's (just) be friends

I am averse to profundity. It is not a thing that is on the internet.

Profundity does not reside in a blog you read, nor in one I write. Let's just be clear about this one thing. I think profundity is on Kindle but I don't really know. I don't have a Kindle.

I respect you too much to make promises now about what you might expect here. I'm a person on the internet who is a person in the world. There's a venn diagram somewhere that could illustrate these persons to you, perhaps, but I'm bad with circles and numbers, so I'll spare you.

Let me tell you a few little things:

- This is a profundity-free zone. And by "zone" I hope you understand that the internet is not a place. As the old idiom goes, a cupcake is a cupcake is a muffin.

- I used to roundaboutly write about sandwiches and other things. There will be sandwiches. Oh, there will be. Unless things go horribly awry. But to answer in the negative (as one is wont to do), you won't exclusively find sandwiches here.

- And by sandwiches, I mean discussions of sandwiches. Kristin and I are still working to develop ways to blog food to one another. So far, I've lost 45 minutes and half a fudgesicle on this endeavor. We'll keep you posted on our progress. That was a blog joke.

- I promise you up to 340% more fake statistical evidence than any other blog on the interweb, guaranteed.

- I will forget most made promises almost immediately after having typed them.

- Any apologies herein are disingenuous and exaggerated for dramatic effect.

- I sincerely apologize in advance if anyone is offended by anything at anytime, ever.

- I like shiny things, pretty things, letters, style, and sarcasm. On these issues, I will not disappoint. That is not a promise.

Our internet personalities are but shades of our non-virtual selves. I'm not trying to be profound here--I don't mean shades as in Shades of the Dead in the Odyssey. Then again, maybe sort of like them, in that on the internet, as in hell, tales are told, histories are elaborated, and epics are enhanced, but the Shades are left for eternity and the guy the reader cares about goes back home and slaughters all the guys who've been eating all of his food and trying to hook up with his wife.