My mom isn’t very mobile these days but she has always been politically active so I asked her if she was going to be able to get out and vote tomorrow. She’s in Ohio, which is a powerful swing state, so her vote is more influential than mine. Apparently, she has already voted via absentee ballot, clever girl that she is.

I asked her who she cast her vote for and she said Barak Obama, mainly because she couldn’t stand the thought of a Vice President, possibly President, Palin. I asked her if she ever thought she’d see the day when a black man stood on the threshold of becoming President. She said that she’s been through this before. Many years ago, according to her, people were convinced they’d NEVER see a Catholic President. Along came JFK and the impossible happened. Let’s all hope that Obama is elected and that the historical similarities end there.

According to a CNN poll released today, 5% of Americans are still undecided. How can anyone still be undecided?! After two years of intense campaigning by both parties, how can you still not know who you’re going to vote for? What a bunch of liars. Of course, they’ve decided. If you’re truly undecided, you haven’t been paying attention. And that’s the most charitable thing I can say about you.

Quick, name this company:

and this one:

and this one:

I’ve spent my entire career in corporate meat-n’-potatoes graphic design. It is the wet dream of every company to develop a logo that it so beautiful in its simplicity, and so impressionable, that it becomes steeped in the public subconscious. None of the above examples contain the name of the company and yet, because they have become part of Western culture, you know which company they represent. Do you know how hard that is to achieve? Do you know how many logos dare tonot include the company name?Very few. Typically, it takes years of market saturation to make a glyph mean something more than just a glyph.

I woke up with flu-like symptoms. I refuse to call it a flu because Mrs. Wife was after me to get a flu shot and I never do. I’m anti-flu shot. So if I now have the flu, where will that leave me and my philosophy? Everything in me has been laid to waste. My head, muscles, stomach. I feel like I’ve been split open and turned inside out.

It was so beautiful out that Mrs. Wife took the girls down to the shore for a walk on the boardwalk in the sunshine. I decided to tag along. I believe that the salty sea air has medicinal qualities. Of course, as soon as we got there I felt even sicker, so after taking the daughters through a hay-bale maze that someone set up for Halloween, I sat on a bench facing the ocean. They went for a walk and I slowly, like a falling baby sequoia, laid down on the bench and dozed. Mrs. Wife came back and was clearly embarrassed. She said I looked like a bum sleeping off a bender. Harrumph.

I had a doctor appointment yesterday. (Perhaps this is where I got my flu illness?) My doctor, a highly-paid specialist who lives in one of the wealthiest communities in this area, and his assistant were both lamenting the fact that New Jersey is leaning towards Obama. Dr. said that if Obama wins, he’s going to have to install parking meters in the lot to enhance his revenue. Assistant was particularly venomous and spat out, Barak Obama isn’t even a real American!

This country does not have a capacity to heal itself. I’m no better. I’d have the same black bile for Sarah Palin. Does anyone know how this happened?

I met Nurse H after work for a bite and a show. Sometimes, New York has a way of throwing in a few unexpected bonuses. The evening would have been satisfactory enough as is, but as we moved from one venue to the next, some flourishes were added.

The restaurant didn’t open for dinner until 6:30, so I met her for a drink at The Garage down in the West Village on 7th Avenue and Grove Street. As I came out of the Christopher Street subway station, I realized that it had been a long, long time since I visited this neighborhood. It was like seeing an old friend again. At the bar, Nurse H was nursing a glass of red wine. I had a post-work Belvedere on the rocks to decompress from a horrendous day. We chatted for about twenty minutes and then, right behind us, this began:

An early show! It was only 6:00 p.m! Where else can you accidentally stumble across a live jazz combo that early in the evening on a Thursday night? And no cover! A piano, drums, stand up bass and lead trombone. I love a good trombone solo, don’t you? Seriously. Do you know who The Specials are? They’re a ska band extraordinaire. Great trombone solos.

They were all top-notch musicians and Nurse H fell in love with the drummer. We dropped a few dollars in the fish bowl and proceeded to the restaurant. We walked south on 7th Avenue and as we came to the corner of Bleeker Street, we stumbled across this guy:

We ate here:

We walked half a block down Commerce Street to here:

This is the Cherry Lane Theater, an intimate and storied theater. Lots of early Becket and Albee were premiered here. We saw Fault Lines. It was presented by The Naked Angles Theater Company, who know a thing or two about drama. The first :25 minutes of the play consisted of some amusing dialog that introduced the characters and a slowly meandering plot. But after one specific line was spoken the play really took off and delivered some powerful plot twists.

Wave after wave
will flow with the tide
and bury the world
as it does

Tide after tide
will flow and recede
leaving life to go on
as it was

Pert