AMATEUR NIGHT. [Wherein your humble narrator longs to smack a few palms with a ruler]
Saturday night I went to an art opening featuring work by a couple chicks I know. The exhibit was titled "Cracked: Two chicks' Eggsabition." It was a hoot. Julia's done a lot of graphic design work, and her paintings are these cutie-pie babies and animals that look like 50s style storybook illustrations. Adorable stuff. Ann's stuff is more high-art painting style, and some assemblage, too. Ann also had a little stop-motion animation film called "Eggs and Hamlet" which in 13 minutes did a super-punny version of Hamlet with apologies to Shakespeare. The characters were all played by eggs in this hard-boiled tragedy.
Afterward, Julia and 3 other women went with me to dinner at a great Tex-Mex place in Lakewood, only it was full of apeshit fratboys and the tarts who love them.
Whoops. Forgot Saturday was the annual stoopid-fest that is the Lower Greenville St. Patty's Day thingie. I try not to judge people-- I really do. I know some would say the things I like are silly and a waste of time, but I just think when tens of thousands of people converge on a place with the sole objective of getting falling-down drunk, that this is just pointless and dangerous. It's a little sad, too.
Don't get me wrong - I have no problem with the proper application of strong spirits, but in the right place and at the right time. Holidays like Mardi Gras, New Year's Eve and St Pat's days are amateur nights, people who don't understand how booze should enhance life, rather than blind one to experience.
The drive home was scary.