Practicalmadness

I just watched the Alabama High School Shakespeare Company's (things wrong with that phrase: at least three) performance of The Tempest. It was everything one should expect from high school students performing classical theater under a tent in the middle of a park on a Sunday night, plus a really loud Prospero and a lithe, blonde and flailing Caliban. I now find myself the third (or seventh) wheel to my brother, his friends and his girlfriend, who is much more (a) female and (b) gothy than I had expected, considering my brother wears silky Savane slacks and other quite yuppish things.

The itinerary for the week involves three nights at the family homestead in Birmingham including a homecoming to the Starbucks shop where I was hired, trained and came to believe in a company which has since demoralized myself and countless others through the magic of Sudden, Violent Changes In Management. Three other nights (not necessarily in this order) will be spent on the Gulf Coast between Mobile (where there will be tall ships) and New Orleans (where there will be, well, New Orleans). I return to Chicago on Saturday and will finally (finally!) get to go to a Taste of Chicago with Jenny on Sunday afternoon. After work. (Pained shudder.)