In which we wonder about whether the Kaiser rolls

I can’t figure out why the registration mob hasn’t moved on to Monticello yet. The usual suspects are keeping their own counsel, for some reason. Go fig. Same tournament as always, same weekend, same everything, most especially rounds for folks who won’t be getting into Yale and Bronx plus the whole Academy slash JV spin. Am I missing something here? Jeesh.

I love reading Facebook this time of year. Everyone, from the principals to the kindergarteners, is complaining about going back to school. Oh, they had to get up early this morning. Oh, they had to work today. Oh, it will be a whole three days before they get off for Labor Day. And then they’ve got to wait a whole week for Rosh Hashanah. And then can Yom Kippur come fast enough? And that’s just the Catholic schools! Jeesh yet again. The old heart bleeds, let me tell you. Of course, there are a few folks, usually of the collegian persuasion, who are looking forward to the new school year. They’re starting to realize how nice they’ve got it, and how it’s unlikely to stay that nice. In a year or two they’ll all be pounding the pavement looking for work and trying to find a reasonably priced apartment in Brooklyn. (Does anyone not live in Brooklyn anymore?) Life, like a lot of inexpensively priced cuts of meat, is tough. But if you boil it long enough and add onions, you’ll probably enjoy it.

We spent last weekend in Providence. Interesting city. On the one hand, the area around Brown is classic and walkable, with old houses going back to before the Revolution, and in the middle of it the Rhode Island School of Design, which has a spectacular collection of all sorts of goodies. On the other hand, the loveable Route 95 cuts straight through the city, and the swath it cuts, lined with heartless/soulless buildings, is an urban wasteland of empty streets. If you prepare yourself with machete and pith helmet, though, you can make it over to Federal Hill, which is one Valet Parking spot after the other (and, also, one Italian restaurant after the other, although whether or not there is any connection I won’t venture an opinion). Good eats, if you find the right place.

The cause of our trip was the catching of an Eddie Izzard show. For those who know his work, you know that it was worth the travel (the three hour journey from home took over four hours both ways, thanks to endless traffic snarls), and for those who don’t, you should cure yourself of this cultural lack immediately. Start with “Dressed to Kill,” probably. Trust me on this one.