Friday, October 2, 2009

Hey Baby, Want Me To Set Your Potato On Fire?

Holy shkamoly...

I haven't blogged much in the past two weeks. 'Cause you know why? Because work, Judaism and rock and roll have been kicking my ass in the best and worst ways. I spent Rosh Hashanah in Philly, came back to NYC, then turned right around for my first ACLU business trip back to DC, staying at a hotel mere blocks from my old place. It was weird coming back this soon. Kinda like running into a recent ex at a party, and having to make weird small talk. "Oh, DC,'re looking well. Am I seeing someone? Well, you remember New York. Yeah, well, it's soon and all, but it could be serious. You? Well, someone will come along. Well, anyway, I'd love to stay but I gotta go do a thing. Say hi to the family." And then you jump on Amtrak and run like hell back to a city that knows how to treat a lady. NYC tells me I'm pretty...and lets me take Acela. Snack on that, DC.

Oh, and the trip? We just briefed the Supreme Court press corps on the upcoming court term, and earned a whole mess of juicy articles, including the LEAD STORY ON THE FREAKIN' FRONT PAGE OF THE WASHINGTON POST. No big.

I got back to DC just in time for back-to-back U2 shows at Giants Stadium. A refresher on Robyn and U2: it could be argued that U2 is responsible for changing my career trajectory into social justice, my entire outlook on music, and consequently the great bulk of my adult life. Well, U2, and, you know, terrible relationship choices and a volatile geopolitical climate. So it's a big deal when they tour, which is every four years or so. Which is why I gladly made the four-hour round trip C.F. of a journey on NJ Transit to the Meadowlands. As a word of advice, if you plan on sharing mass transit with 80,000 other people at the exact same time, it better be for someone who changes your life. Otherwise it might be the most miserable experience of the year. The first night we were way far away, the better to see the ridiculous claw from outer space stage setup.

And the next night we were right up close!

If you don't think money can buy happiness, I respectfully beg to differ.

Now granted, all of this took a bit of a toll on the system, and consequently I haven't been all that able to sleep more than five hours a night for the past week and a half. Even the metabolic crash of Yom Kippur didn't slow me down. I didn't go to services, as I'm not yet part of a congregation, but I did make homemade chicken stock, which was the second most Jewish thing I could think of. And I cleaned my apartment. And broke fast with my friend Alex at a German beer hall in Brooklyn. Achtung bubbe.

And I accidentally set my potato on fire in the break room yesterday. And no, that's not a euphemism for anything. But it should be. Hey, you get the lead in WashPo, you get to set your lunch ablaze in the microwave...ONCE. It's a rule.

Throw in about a half dozen shows, an Eagles win and a loss, and some awful dietary decisions, and I'd say that brings us up to speed. Now if you'll excuse me, it's 7 pm on a Friday, I'm about to leave the office, and I have an intense night of sitting on my butt, watching Lost, and eating cheese to look forward to. And I think I'm gonna love it.