This past weekend, J. and I had tickets to see "Mamma Mia" in Minneapolis. It's the first time in about fifteen years that I'd been to a professional musical, and the first time in about a year that I've been to the theater.

I'll preface this by saying that the musical was completely and utterly enjoyable. Abba music sung by a cast in spandex and platforms can't be all bad, and when you get a group of men in tight lycra wetsuits doing a dance number in swim fins, masks and snorkels, you can't help but crack a smile. The energy in the auditorium was great (despite the energy level needing to be adjusted for Minnesota), and I highly recommend the show to anyone...it's just plain fun, and I was very glad to have seen it.

But now, the rant. I used to be really into the theater. All through high school, I was involved in some way, shape or form with productions, acted and teched a number of community theater productions after graduation, and even found myself a theater major at UW-Milwaukee for a while. Then I discovered film, and it ruined me for theater forever.

There's a couple of critical differences between film and theater that resonate with me. The first is subtlety. In theater, you need to play to the back of the house. In film, you need to play only to the camera, which can sometimes be mere inches from your face. You can always tell someone with a lot of stage experience, because they always overact on film. It's awful to try to direct, and that's why I prefer to work with malleable non-actors.

Another difference is the control you have over what the audience sees or doesn't see. In film, if there's a gun hidden in a desk drawer, I can insert a closeup to let the audience know about it and convention tells us that by showing it, there's a certain level of importance in the story. Theatrically, there would need to be a very large character aside to the audience to let them know the same information.

After years of honing my filmmaking skills to work with those subtle nuances, going to live theater is often unbearably UN-subtle, and has the potential to drive me up a FREAKIN' tree. If I do go to live theater, I tend to prefer black box or chamber; there's still a possibility that there will be some appreciable subtlety in a more intimate venue.

Putting my personal preferences aside, however, I still had some problems with "Mamma Mia" that I think are inidicative of American theater in general. And, no, I'm not going to talk about how spectacle has replaced substance (a phenomenon which has been increasingly popular since the eighties super-musicals like "Cats" and "Starlight Express"). Though I must admit, "Mamma Mia" had less of a plot than most musicals, and the lengths they stretched that tiny bit of plot to fit existing Abba songs was sometimes laughable.

I'm talking about talent. Or lack thereof. There's this heirarchy of theater that I've always recognized. You start off in community theater, move to local professional troupes (like MRT), then on to more regional organizations, like APT, a Broadway touring company, then to Broadway. From what I've seen, an actor demonstrates a certain level of talent and ability to get 'promoted' to the next level.

Kristie Marsden, as Sophie Sheridan, exuded 'ac-tress' from the moment she appeared on stage, and even when she was in the background as part of the chorus, tried to upstage everyone. My first impression? Frikken' primadonna. Unfortunately, she had nothing with which to back it up. Most notably, she sang from her throat, not her abdomen, and I had to wonder how someone could get to a Broadway touring company without that most basic of skills under her belt?

Don Noble, as Sam Carmichael was frequently off beat or out of tune. Buried under a chorus, he was fine, but, couldn't carry a tune or keep rhythm in his solos. What's up with that?

Monique Lund as Donna Sheridan was a shining star in the cast, the one with true musical talent, which she had an opportunity to let show in the finale of "The Winner Takes it All". Wow--can she belt out a tune!

All the audio was over speakers, even though the show played in an older house with excellent acoustics. The music was arranged for an electronic band (synth, guitars, bass, percussion, drums) instead of orchestra, so perhaps the amplification of the music made some amplification of the voices necessary. Or perhaps actors are getting lazy and relying more on wireless mics than the ability to project to the back of the house? On top of that, the mix was muddy, with the orchestra frequently overpowering the vocalists.

I remember when a play or musical was covered by a handful of stage and overhead mics, more to augment and fill in the gaps in what the audience heard from stage rather than to completely replace it. Is it that talent is getting lazy? Or is it that the economics of live theater is so awful that the only way to make it financially is to pack houses too large for the experience? In either case, it's a trend that's been happening, and it's not one that I like to see.  ¶ 22:16

 
As the holidays approach, and we look for things to keep us busy (and in denial about the cold and dark), movie-watching springs to mind. Of course, you could be a traditionalist and watch those old holiday standbys like It’s a Wonderful Life, Holiday Inn, and White Christmas. I, on the other hand, will be spending my Christmas with some alternative titles.

The first film, Hardware, takes place at Christmastime, which is why I chose it for my list. In a post-apocalyptic future ravaged by war and UV radiation, Dylan McDermott plays Mo, an ex-soldier, returning home for holidays from ‘the Zone’ with a canvas sack of scavenged junk. He plans to give a metal skull to his girlfriend, who uses such strange objects in her sculpture. Little do they know that the skull is from a self-replicating Terminator-style military robot. Predictably, the robot revives and all hell breaks loose as it tries to kill every living thing in sight.

For me this film is an impressive example of what you can do with a lot of ingenuity on a limited budget. Sets are minimal, the design aesthetic isn’t nearly as slick as that for the Terminator series, and the director has mastered the art of building suspense through creative editing and performance rather than relying on the few prosthetic and blood effects. I like to think of the film as Terminator with a brain.

William Hootkins (Wedge from Star Wars for all you film geeks out there) plays Lincoln, one of the creepiest voyeur neighbors you’ll ever see on screen, and Iggy Pop is the radio voice of “Angry Bob”. The film’s got a great soundtrack composed by Simon Boswell and includes tracks by Public Image Limited and Ministry.

Second is Brazil, considered by many to be Terry Gilliam’s (Time Bandits, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas) finest and most sophisticated work. It’s the story of Sam Lowry, a mid-level bureaucrat ‘somewhere in the 20th century.’ Bored by pushing paper, he loses himself in fantastic dreams. After seeing the woman from his dreams in real life, he gradually slips away into his fantasy world in an effort to find her.

Throughout the film, there’s a darkly comic undertone to the portrayals of the paperwork-heavy bureaucracy that requires receipts and receipts for receipts. This is another film with masterful art direction, exquisite camera choreography, and fabulous performances from Jonathan Pryce, Jim Broadbent and Ian Holm. The director’s cut of the film is significantly different than the regular video release so hold out for that if you can.

Why is this film on my Christmas list? This film also takes place at Christmastime, a wonderfully ironic counterpoint to the bureaucracy run amok.

And last, but certainly not least, David Lynch’s Eraserhead rounds out my perfect Christmas Eve. This cult classic, Lynch’s first feature length film, is the story of Henry and his girlfriend, Mary, blessed with an unexpected bundle of joy. The film is dark and disturbing, featuring many wonderfully surrealistic Lynch-ian moments.

Rich black and white cinematography and very deliberate sound design help round out the mood, as Henry comes to terms with the changes that a new baby brings to his life.

Frequently, David Lynch is asked about this film and its meaning, and always counters with “What do you think it means?” He listens to the answer, nods, and says, “That’s one interpretation. But not my interpretation,” and stays deliberately vague. I’ve not had the opportunity to ask, but I wonder if his reaction would be any different if I proposed my theory that his film was the Nativity story from Joseph’s point of view.

Hardware is the hardest of these films to find, but well worth the hunt. Both Eraserhead and the director’s cut of Brazil are available at Riverwest Film and Video.

Originally Published in Riverwest Currents, volume 2, #12
  ¶ 22:40

 
Sitting in the dark at a film festival for ten days, and my mind starts to wander. I love being hit with a huge barrage of images, and seeing what my conscious and subconscious mind spits back at me.


A few ideas are converging...Jean Cocteau said, "Film will only become art when its materials are as inexpensive as pen and paper." That's starting to happen. You can buy all the professional equipment necesary to make a film for less than the cost of a new car. Cocteau's dream is fast approaching.

Walter Benjamin's "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction" explores how the concept and nature of art changed with the advent of mass production. With the ability to quickly and cheaply reproduce replicas, everyone could soon own a copy of the Mona Lisa or Michaelangelo's David. The essay explored how this concept changed the 'uniqueness' or an artwork.

Jean Baudrillard, in Simulacra and Simulation offers an expension on this concept: Are the copies any less valid than the originals?

So how does that fit together? I'm thinking specifically of photography for a lot of this. In the past, photos were mounted and framed in a gallery (Benjamin's "art"), or, like school photos, made into a stack of prints to hand out (Benjamin's "mechanical reproduction"). Obviously, the digital analog to the latter is e-mail or online photo galleries. Send or post your work and all the world can view. But what do you do when you want to create 'art' from your digital images (and, as Baudrillard would probably ask, does it really matter?) You can print them, frame them and hang them up. The same as you would for film. But then it's not really an analog--it's exactly the same process for film as it is for digital prints.

Starting with that question, I'm really interested in conceiving of a truly digital analog to the traditional gallery print of a photograph. What does that look like?

I think back to my Tree Project. For that, I envisioned a series of small LCD panels which would display digital video of the Oaks I catalogued, and CD players for the corresponding audio. This might be the start of a digital exhibition format.

A flat-panel LCD on the wall, fed by a memory stick or flash card with a specific digital image, or a series of specific digital images. Which then begs the question--do you use a single image on a flat panel monitor because that's the way in which art is traditionally viewed, or do you display a series of images simply because you can?

When you sell your art, what do you sell? The flash card with the image, or the images plus the display device? How do you digitally sign each specific piece to prevent unauthorized duplication? Does the addition of the display device to the price of the artwork make it prohibitively expensive for all but the wealthiest of collectors or museums? Does this additional cost put the this easily replicated form of art into the realm of that which Benjamin noted as the 'old model' for art? Does a step forward technologically move us backward in the distribution of the media?

I think the exhibition model I've devised for my Tree Project comes close...perhaps that deserves a closer look one of these days.

  ¶ 09:35

 
At book club this morning, we spent more time discussing the conceptual issues behind information overload than the material itself. While interesting to hear everyone's perspective, in retrospect, I wish I would have pressed for more detailed information about what people found exciting.

My ears are still ringing, but I think that's more a function of the Lovelies show last night.  ¶ 23:28

 

You're Bettie Page!


What Classic Pin-Up Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

  ¶ 10:01

 
Last night, I went to grab some photos of The Lovelies for Riverwest Currents. Or would it be more accurate to say this morning, since I left right around midnight?

All I know is that right now, I can't sleep 'cause my ears are ringing.   ¶ 01:43

 
  ¶ 18:42

 

Tonight, I did the first of the Techno Trance Headshots. These are some of my favorites from the shoot.

  ¶ 23:42

 
Oh my god. What am I going to do with myself? Here it is, the day after the festival ended, and I'm terrified by the idea that I'm not going to be seeing three movies tonight. My brain will atrophy without new and exciting stimulus. What ever will I do?

Seriously, though, it's beena phenomenal experience. Saw a lot of incredible films, met a lot of wonderful new friends, and my head is swimming with all kinds of wonderful new ideas and concepts. It's going to be a fun couple of weeks dumping the contents of my head to paper. Or my blog.

I love feeling like this. That whole exciting, aniticipatory inspiration I can only get from immersing myself in film. I feel alive.

Of course, I need to sped a few days burning CDs of my photos, drawing up contracts and releases for the various parties who need them, and then, I think I'm going to get started with an online portfolio for potential clients.

And finish my festival reviews. Writer's cramp by Christmas, I suspect.
  ¶ 10:48

 



One of the shining faces at Sunday's awards brunch.
  ¶ 23:41

 

The closing night party for the festival was held at Mantra lounge. Breakdancers provided entertainment.  ¶ 23:36

 



Tonight's party was the Wearable Sculpture Fashion Show, held at Turner Hall in Milwaukee. This was one of the models.  ¶ 23:31

 
I'm feeling a little under the weather today (which, in itself is an interesting expression--weather, being the atmosperic coniditions, is, by nature, mostly above us anyway...).

I'm guessing that a lot of it is due to the film festival. My sleep schedules been screwed up, and I've been spending hours on end slouching in movie theater seats, knees propped on the seat back ahead of me. I'm also in a very interesting mental place where the films are oozing together in my memory, my dreams are about the films, and memories of what's going on in my non-festival life are tainted by scenes from various things I've seen. It's almost like a hypnagogic state, and I'm diggin' it.

But still, I'm tired, feel run down, and will be glad when it's over and I can get on with a more regular semblance of life...until next year, when it starts all over again.  ¶ 14:15

 
Sitting in the dark at a film festival for ten days, and my mind starts to wander. I love being hit with a huge barrage of images, and seeing what my conscious and subconscious mind spits back at me.


This is one of the things that I've been thinking about a lot, but it wasn't until the festival that I was finally able to articulate it. It came out of a discussion that some friends and I were having about Numafung. While I found it to be very reminiscent of 60s and 70s ethnographic films, they found it to be an incredible commentary on the interconnectedness of close-knit communities. One of the comments was about how the whole web shakes when you pull one string. I, of course, saw none of that. I saw the acting (very good for most of the cast being non-actors) and cinematography (very flat) and plot development (good, but without traditional western conflict development), but didn't see anything in the film that touched a nerve about community.

That got me thinking...why do people glom onto certain aspects of what they see, hear or read, as opposed to others? Is it based solely on a person's experiences and interests what they choose to latch onto?

For book club this month, we're submitting things we've written. I've sent everyone a link to my blog. I was interested to see what everyone came back with when we had our discussion...what people chose to discuss or not. And as I started thinking about how I had expereinced Numafung differently from the people with whom I was discussing it, I realized that I had done a very similar experiment with book club.

If I give you more information that you can comfortably digest, what do you choose to expereince of that body of information?

To me a movie is far more than I can digest in a single sitting, and if a movie really interests me, I need to see it multiple times to absorb all the wonderful nuances of character and plot and technical expertise. But on a single viewing, do I experience the script? the characterizations? the technique? It varies, and my personal experience is more likely than not different from anyone else's in the theater.

Are there common experiences that eveyone has, and if so, why? Are these images powerful enough to illicit common reactions? Archetypal enough that everyone can identify with and personalize them? or just so shockingly new as to be memorable? and if I, as a filmmaker, want to create something that's experiences consistently, regardless of my audience, how is that possible? is it possible?

Such delectable questions to ponder for the next few decades.  ¶ 11:26

 
“Donnie Darko” appeared on the festival circuit in 2001 to critical acclaim, and was picked up for limited theatrical distribution shortly thereafter. Typically playing in art houses and college theaters, the film played Milwaukee for two nights as part of the University of Wisconsin—Milwaukee’s Spring 2002 screening series. Through word of mouth, the film has developed a cult following, and movie-lovers across the country are counting it among their favorite films.

A debut feature for the then 28-year-old writer/director, Richard Kelly, “Donnie Darko” is a brilliantly conceived film that is simultaneously a rich character drama and a surprisingly innovative science fiction film.

The film takes place in 1988. From dead-on art direction and wardrobe design to sparkly dance troupes and cheesy motivational speakers (Kurt Russell), the film does an excellent job of transporting us to another time and place. The first line spoken in the film is from Elizabeth Darko (Maggie Gyllenhaal), who blurts, “I’m voting for Dukakis” at the dinner table. A lively political discussion quickly disintegrates into family bickering and effectively establishes the dynamics in the Darko household.

We’re introduced to Donnie Darko (Jake Gyllenhaal), a troubled high-schooler with a penchant for sleepwalking and visitations from Frank, a pretty creepy looking giant rabbit, who warns him about the impending end of the world. During one of Donnie’s midnight escapades, a jet engine falls into his room. He returns home in the morning, surprising his family who had assumed he’d been crushed. Federal agents abound; it turns out that no one knows where the engine came from. We begin to suspect we’re in for an interesting ride that goes beyond Donnie’s internal struggles.

In his quest to understand what’s going on, Donnie’s therapist (Katharine Ross) subjects him to regression. A teacher (Noah Wylie) surreptitiously gives him a forgotten book called “The Philosophy of Time Travel”. Donnie realizes that the author is a local woman nicknamed ‘Grandma Death’, regarded by many as the local kook. Frank’s visitations grow more frequent and more intense. Donnie continues to sleepwalk and get into trouble at school. All of his searching and discovery culminates in a surprise ending where Donnie must make the ultimate sacrifice for love.

The brother/sister chemistry between the real-life brother and sister Jake and Maggie Gyllenhaal adds a refreshingly wonderful dynamic to the film, and appearances by Drew Barrymore as Donnie’s English teacher is a fabulous addition to the ensemble cast including Jena Malone, Mary McDonnell and Beth Grant. The film features a killer soundtrack of Eighties standards including Duran Duran, The Church and Echo & the Bunnymen.

For those of you with access to the web, check out http://www.dinniedarko.com. Going beyond the typical promotional website, the site plays like a video game, allowing you to discover conspiracy theories, character backgrounds, and additional pieces of the story we never see on screen.

Donnie Darko is available on VHS and DVD at area video stores and the Milwaukee Public Library. The DVD features page-by-page images of Roberta Sparrow’s “The Philosophy of Time Travel” if you wish to learn more about the topic.

Published in Riverwest Currents, on November 2, 2003 10:32 AM.
  ¶ 13:33

 




This is how they cart film around at the Oriental Theater.



Tonight's festival afterparty was the Jazz Orgy at RC's. The band jammed. Yow. I think this shot captures the essence of drumming quite well.
  ¶ 23:29

 

Tonight, Chump Change premiered in Milwaukee. This is the official Miramax release premiere, and it was the first time since the renovation that Milwaukee's Oriental Theater had sold out. There was an afterparty at which members of the cast and crew were in attendance. Steve Burrows, writer, director an male lead, sits with Traci Elizabeth Lords (yes, the Traci Lords), the female lead, and Steve's wife, Margo. Of course, no Milwaukee film party would be complete without an appearance by Mark Borchardt.   ¶ 23:25

 
see the photo essay

Last spring, our lovely aldermen decided to make one morning per month a no-parking-on-the-street morning so they could sweep the streets. They started a pilot program, with resounding success, and made it permanent just in time for leaf season this fall. On the first Friday of every month, I'm not allowed to park in front of my own house between 8am and 2pm, under penalty of ticketing and towing.

At 7:45am, three little parking enforcement Jeeps begin circling the block. Two flatbed tow trucks have passed by my window in the past ten minutes...there goes the third. A Public Works Supervisor (obviously immune to the parking restrictions) is parked in front of my house directing operations with a walkie-talkie.

Holy cow. Two more REGULAR tow trucks--you know, the life the bumper off the ground and tow you off on two wheels (hopefully the front or rear set, as opposed to the right or left set)...they're serious about this business.

I have a strange relationship with parking in this community. It's almost legalized extortion, that I feel powerless to do anything about. We have a one car garage and two cars and I park out on the street.

So I'm faced with dealing with Milwaukee's Draconian parking regularions (one flatbed and one lift-n-tow just went by). First, it's illegal to park on the street between 2am and 6am. Each year, I need to spend $40.00 on a permit that allows me to do so. Second, we live near the University, a 'commuter impacted parking district' so I need to stand in line to get a free permit to park in front of my own house for more than two hours at a time on a weekday. I'm not sure what irks me more. The time I waste dealing with the permits, or the principle of not being able to park in front of my own house.

It's also illegal to park for more than 24 hours in one spot. I work from home, live close to many amenities, and there are literally times where I don't drive for a week or more--usually in the summer when I can bike to meetings more comfortably than in the chill of Wisconsin winter. we found this out the hard way over the summer when we got a ticket for being parked more than 24 hours in the same location. (two cars being towed to the impound lot. bu-bye)

And one of the other things that happend was a couple years ago (and another flatbed heading down the street toward more cars), in a cost-saving and crime-fighting measure, the common council moved parking enforcement out of the police department and into public works. That means that instead of a handful of cops writing parking tickets on top of their regular law enforcement duties, there's now an elite force of jackbooted thugs in little white Jeeps who do nothing all day by drive through the commuter impacted parking districts with chalk wands issuing ticket after ticket after ticket after ticket.

From where I sit in my office, I have a clear view of the street, and my van parked below. At least once a week, a Jeep will pull up behind my van, and I can see the person inside, feverishly entering data into their little ticket dispenser. I love to watch the look on his or her face when they get to the front of my car and realize I've got my permit which exempts me from their stinking tickets.

Move along, buddy.   ¶ 08:25

 


I've been doing some photo work for Techno Trance Bellydance. They had awful photos on their website, and needed to get some shots of the live performances. I plan to do headshots for each of the troupe members later in the month. It just so happened that they performed at the opening night party for the Milwaukee International Film Festival. These are some of the shots I captured.   ¶ 23:08

 
It's my birthday today.
And the Milwaukee Film Festival is starting.
What a great present.  ¶ 11:26

 
So there's this book I read (Modern European Filmmakers and the Art of Adaptation) which gets into a lot of the 'critical theory' behind the adaptation. One of the things they postulate is that writers choose words to play on inner emotions to evoke a feeling. Filmmakers need to use external visual and sonic stimuli to evoke those same responses.

What I read into that is the very nature of the adaptation requires that the film and book be completely different animals. Where I see adaptations fail is when they try to use the book too much (e.g., Virgin Suicides) or where they claim that it's an adaptation, when in fact it's merely 'inspired by' (e.g., Corelli's Mandolin).

As a filmmaker, I have a personal predilection against voiceovers, narration and flashback, which, far too often is used to convey the internal struggles of the characters. For me, choosing to use those devices instead of finding an innovative way to visually present the same information (remember, film is a visual medium--show don't tell) is nothing more than creative laziness.

The best adaptation I've ever seen? Snow Falling on Cedars. The way they used flashbacks and transitions to them was in line with how the book presented the information, and it was one of the few instances where the flashback sequences worked brilliantly with the rest of the film's visual style. When it works that well, it's usually a sign that the creatve forces behind the project took a lot of care and time into deliberately designing and planning each and every shot to convey the most visual information possible.  ¶ 08:41

 
Last week (October 26 through November 1, 2003) was Protection From Pornography Week, but I'm confused. The press release seems to indicate that the Bush administration is really trying to protect children from pornography and combat the child pornography industry. Wouldn't a more appropriate name be Protection from Child Pornography Week? Can someone please explain why child porn is being wrapped up in porn-in-general? Can someone explain that to me in a satisfactory manner?

I didn't think so

Backlash
J. responded:

Seems that he can't make a distinction between exploiting children and pornography...combining the two concepts into one statement is a sneaky tactic. Who's going to come out and say they disagree with protecting children? But to then call it "Protection from Pornography" lumps *all* porn into something that is "dangerous" for kids.
Election 2004...election 2004....

Thanks to Nicole for information about Protection from Crappy Pornography Week

Attack Of The Killer Porn: Are you terrified of hot dirty sexy icky images? You need BushCo's Protection from Pornography Week, by Mark Morford, SF Gate Columnist   ¶ 21:53

 
I'm doing some publicity stills for TechnoTrance Bellydance, and showed up at the studio tonight to see what the existing lighting was like. I snapped a couple photos. The lighting pretty much sucks, but I really like these two. I like 'em better at full resolution because the graininess adds an interesting texture. Click on the photos to load larger images.






  ¶ 23:46

 





Blech.

  ¶ 17:51

 
I hate today's weather. It's cold, damp, rainy...blech. On the Dan Wilson weatherscale, it's a big fat zero.

On the other end of the scale, clocking in at a perfect ten, is 72, sunny, no humidity, and a slight breeze that brings the 'feels like' temperature down to about 68 (it's strange to talk about a wind chill when the air temperature is 72.)

I'm drawn toward cooler temperatures, and while I used to like winter and downright COLD a lot, I'm finding that I'm not so much liking that as much as I used to. This fall, on some of our colder, damper days, I was really not enjoying myself, and found myself wearing an extra layer or three just to stay comfortable. I never remember having to do that before.

I hope it's not a sign of things to come.

This is one of those days that I really resent not having a fireplace.  ¶ 15:17

 
I need more drinkin' buddies.

Let me clarify. I'm not much of a barfly. Sure, I like to hit Nessun Dorma for a Brown Mumbler or the Landmark for cheap rail drinks and imports occasionally, but honestly? I'm not a big fan of secondhand smoke night after night after night after night after...

There's also the issue of water. I've found that by doing at least a 1:1 liquor to water ratio, I can stave off the ill effects of drinking heavily almost indefinitely. If I start to feel the ill-effects coming on, I just have another pint of water. Most bartenders give me 'the look'...you know the one, you get it when you ask for a Guinness in a corner tap in West Allis, or ask if they'll take a personal check...when I ask for water, and I'm not all that thrilled with getting 'the look'.

So I find myself wanting to go out for coffee or tea more often than to bars. Anodyne/Brewed Awakenings on Brady Street has been smoke-free for years, Rochambo (also on Brady Street) quarantines the smokers upstairs, both Alterra locations have been smoke-free since inception, *$s is smoke free (if I get really desperate), and Node, well, Node has wireless internet. And an acceptable air handling system. So I deal with it.

So I go to these various coffeeshops and I order a beverage. I've been acquiring a taste for soy chai lately, or Rishi's Serene Tea, Rochambo's herbal that has Missoula in the name (and I think of David Lynch every time I sip it), a cuppa decaf, or a decaf Americano for those places that don't brew decaf.

Sometime, someone will come with me. Usually, they order a beverage of their own. Sometimes I'll buy them one. Sometimes, they buy me one. And we sit and write, or talk, or just hang out. And drink.

I don't know about you, but that sounds like a drinking buddy. A buddy with whom I...drink.

I need more drinking buddies. Especially the ones open minded enough to understand the 'drinking' can imply something other than a cold MGD.  ¶ 05:01