Fatale Abstraction

Okay, we've got a lot to cover.

With the primaries and whatnot Tuesday plus an evening concert, I wore something a little more ostentatious than usual for work. Distracted by a shadow-dancing goober, in my haste I didn't read the signage at the polls. Walked up to the table with my voter reg card and handed it to the folks at the table just as in the last election. They axed me to sign in, and I noticed every person who'd signed in had filled in the email and phone number spaces. *heigh ho! that's new.* I'd never noticed people doing that before. Well, erm, uh, okay. I said "I'm not putting my email address" and the woman seemed taken aback but said "uh, that's okay." I said "what will they do with my phone number --do they sell it on a list? Who would call me?" She said "just the Democratic Campaign." I said, fairly sneering "well I certainly don't want those people calling me. No thanks."

They gave me my ballot and an "I voted" sticker for my garment. I went to the booth and lo and behold, I was holding a Democratic primary thingie. Sheeeeut!

Okay, that goober guy had been be-bopping between me and the sign that directed Democrats to the table I'd gone to. I went back to the table and inquired and found I was indeed in the wrong place. For an instant I considered voting for Hillary, but then decided I couldn't even when it didn't really count. I went to the other side. I think they were gobsmacked to see a flamboyant person who wasn't voting on their side of the aisle. As I was leaving, I looked back to the Democrat poll table and saw some really choice wastrels signing in, and I giggled to myself all the way out the building as I thought of the way I'd expressed my distaste for the Democratic Campaign. Oh, and the Republican primary didn't have "I voted" stickers. I think this must be how they're doing their exit polling. I kept my Democratic primary sticker on all day, just for grins. The guy holding the Hillary sign outside the school fairly lit up when he saw the sticker on my lapel. I wanted to say "step away from the bong, dude."
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In the PM:
8:09 left work
8:14 mailed a package at the Main Post Office
8:21 handed LouLou off to the $15 House of Blues Valet (ouch!)
8:35 tucked into a hamburger with a washdown of Stella Artois
whilst reading something by Heinlein
9:15 arrived at my seat during the first song

They Might Be Giants were fantastic, and this was an interesting audience to look at. The banter between songs was almost the best part. But the hyper-nerd energy in the audience was almost the best part. All the young- and old-nerds-in-lurve was almost the best part. The WHOLE room singing along was almost the best part. When John Flansburgh introduced the band and admonished the audience to "give up some grassy knoll love for" the guitar player- that was absolutely the best part. When John and the other guitarist were playing an instrumental bit, John Linnell intoned in the most pedantic way possible, calmly "Yes," and then a few seconds later "Continue." Funny stuff, clever men. I liked it a lot.

Oh, and if you have wee sprogs, TMBG has a couple hit cds for children out now called "Here Come the 1-2-3s" and "Here Come the ABCs." The 1-2-3s has been out for about a month and is the number one kid record in the country, which has also pulled up the ABCs cd into the top 5 as well. This is excellent brain fodder for little ones. I recommend the Alphabet of Nations, which was SO much better live than you can even imagine.

It was Nerdvana. Good stuff.

10:57 collected LouLou from valet, tipping $4 (couldn't bear to
pay a whole $20 for parking, and heaven knows I'm no cheapskate
11:14 home again, jiggity-jig

TMBG/Discworld Trivia from Wikipedia:

In the Terry Pratchett novel Soul Music (Set on The Discworld) a group of musically gifted short people call themselves 'We're Certainly Dwarfs' as an homage to TMBG. This is mentioned by the author in The Discworld Companion.

Remember to keep the nightlight on inside the birdhouse in your soul.