birthdays, ronin, and airplanes.
The quote of the day:
"When I met you, you were like, 'Oh, fiddlesticks, I burned the darn muffins.' Now you go into a bar and ten minutes later sailors come running out. What up with that?"
"Did you ever kill anyone?"
"I hurt someone's feelings once."
I've read a couple of articles--I bet it was the same article, rewritten a couple of times by the author for different markets--about how the Social Set used to find flying elegant, how flying used to be an event...and now that the Great Unwashed has filled the planes with their carry-ons and their blue jeans, the Blue Hairs find flying to be a disturbingly plebian experience.
Clearly, my betters have never sat in coach, which has all the romance and mystery of a cab ride. Flying is such a ho-hum, everyday experience, that I can't imagine dressing up for it.
Anyhow, all of these thoughts were generating by flying to Chicago on Friday and back today. In case you've been wondering.
Friday
We flew to Chicago.
We had dinner at Darin's parents's house with Mitch, Scott, and Darin's grandmother Ilse.
Darin and I watched the premiere of Homicide--what up with the Zen Detective?--and then Darin, Mitch, and Scott hung out for a while.
During the night, for a variety of reasons--such as it being way too hot in our room, which caused Darin to snore very, very loudly--I couldn't sleep in the guest room on the pull-out couch and ended up sleeping on the living room couch.
Saturday
The main event of Saturday was Steve's 60th birthday party. 35 of Steve and Carole's friends stopped by to wish him a happy birthday, and Scott's a cappella singing group Lake Shore Jive (it's a pun on Chicago's Lake Shore Drive) provided the entertainment.
Darin and I forgot our digital camera, but the gift Darin, Mitch, and Scott got Steve was a digital camera, so perhaps I will get some of the photos from that.
After the party, Darin, Mitch, Scott, and I headed off to see Ronin, which we all really liked. Despite it originally being a script by some guy I've never heard of it, there is no doubt that this is a David Mamet film--Mamet put his name on this as Richard Weisz, because he won't put his name on a film if he doesn't get sole credit. It's got a group of con artists who don't trust one, who speak in cryptic sentences, and who have no backstory whatsoever.
There are a few things I really, really liked about Ronin--for example, this is a movie that gives no aid and succor to the audience whatsoever when it comes to figuring out what's going on. And there are a few developments that I didn't expect, which I always appreciate.
After the movie, we went back to Darin's parents's house for dinner.
DIANE
We're going to eat again?
MITCH
We're at the Adler house aren't we?
Dinner consisted of a giant bagel. Reportedly this is a bagel for 10 people. 10 hungry people. 10 hungry people larger than the Adlers. 10 large hungry people who need sustenance for the greater part of a week.
The bagel was at least two feet in diameter, contained a layer of cream cheese and lox at least two inches thick, and came with tuna fish, liver, sliced tomatoes, sliced onions...
This was a honkin' bagel.
I had a wee wedge of bagel. Which was still more than I could eat.
After dinner, Darin, Mitch, Scott, and I headed down to Scott's new condo in Bucktown. It's one of these condos in a brick warehouse places, and pretty cool. It had a giant open area--kitchen, living room, and dining room all in one, plus two bedrooms and two bathrooms.
Both Mitch and I were upset that we missed Fantasy Island, but we watched Cupid while Darin and Scott did stuff on the computer. Cupid was likeable but somebody give Jeremy Piven tranquilizers already. After the show was over Mitch went to do computer stuff and I sacked out on the couch.
Darin and I headed home late--after 11--and he slept on the couch downstairs. I guess sleeping on the pull-out couch is not for us and the next time we go to visit his parents we'll have to stay in a hotel.
Sunday
We got up and ate bagel.
Steve dropped us at the airport by the skycaps. We finally got a skycap to pay attention, and he came back to us with, "Your flight's been cancelled."
Say what?
We waited in the world's longest line to get to a clerk who said, "Oh, you'll have to check in at the gate."
Great.
We headed to the far side of Chicago and checked in at the gate. The attendant told us he'd call when he was able to get seat assignments for the people from the cancelled flight.
Then we heard the gate had been changed. So we walked to the other far side of Chicago to a new gate. I waited in line again, only to be told that I didn't have to sign in again. Well, whatever.
We waited through the boarding process--complete with bribes...errr, incentives...from American to take a flight to LA leaving 20 minutes after this one--and at the very end our names were called. And we got seats on the 2-side of the aisle, which was surprising considering how they'd kept talking about how full the flight was. As it turned out, the flight was slightly more than half full.
Read two books this weekend:
- flying to Chicago: The Magician's Tale by David Hunt. A noir thriller set in modern SF. Kind of kinky. A more satisfying mystery than most, and the writing is great. There are a few strands interwoven here and there that made me say, "Huh? This is here because..." But it reminded me of San Francisco a lot.
- flying to LA: A Free Man Of Color by Barbara Hambly. A mystery set in antebellum New Orleans, with Creoles, Americans, coloreds, and blacks. Hambly evokes the society and feeling of the time quite well. (Yes, I've read Feast of All Saints, which I also liked.)
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Copyright 1998 Diane Patterson
Send comments and questions to diane@spies.com