Happy Hour at Brio, Pool Party at the Renaissance, Virginia-Highlands Summer Fest, BBQ Ribs at Brad’s, The Filthy Fifty Workout, Righteous Room,  6 Feet Under with my Cousin,  Grand Central Station Pizza with Alex’s Family.   This was a good weekend.

After the summer-fest let out  I ran into Kristy and DaveK on the street.  Kristy was hiccupping every third word, and DaveK was harassing cars.  And women, though that was for my benefit.   Apparently I need the help.  Even my dad chimed in on that subject  this weekend, asking the whereabouts of every  girl I ever introduced to him until finally saying,  “Let me give you some advice Sean….. you are a bit of a slob”.  

Maybe I am, maybe I ain’t.   You try moving all your stuff back into  your high-school bedroom, and keeping it orderly.  I don’t know that anyone’s ever broke up with me because I was a slob.    Rich likes to ride me about my distaste for deodorant. He says a girl I dated mentioned it to him.   I just take it as a depressing sign of the times that a whiff of pure man-style Sean is considered offensive, but when I go out  I have smell the cologne of every guy in the restaurant.     Maybe I’ll go buy some of that Hummer Cologne, pour some of that over my head and see how you like it.

So yeah, finally DaveK blew out a flip-flop, playing fogger in traffic. I offered him one of the two extra pairs I keep in my car/locker (slob, remember), but they ended up taking a taxi back north.  By the time I caught back up to Brad and Staci, they had befriended two Italian Dames who live in New York but were in town for the oncology Convention.    (Cousin Gina was in town for the same conference. I took her to 6-feet-under for friend green tomatoes and alligator. If you are reading this in Long Beach, Vote Ulaszewski for 2nd District  tomorrow)

They were really cool girls so Staci invited them to dinner Sunday night,  and it was a great evening.  After Brad cooked up some ribs  (Rubbed, no boiling)  I drove the Italians back to their hotel, and was prodded by one of them, to the dismay of the other, to reveal my political affiliations.   The inquiry was insistent, and yet  delivered with such a forced disinterest that I knew she really was hoping I would give her a “its all right I hate BusHitler too”  signal so she could drop the pretense and get to her point.  The invective swings both ways of course; The night Rich and I met DavidK and Kristy, Rich got stony silent when the subject of Al Gore came up. Three of us managed a light-hearted conversation about the man/machine that is Al Gore, such that I still have now idea what their political affiliation is, yet, it was obvious Rich thougt it bazaar that I would refuse the neat opportunity to bash the guy.  Personally, I think he's a bit to comical to be a villian.

I told my self a while back that I would answer political-afilliation questions  with a straightforward, sturdy, “I am a Republican”, but these days the Republicans  are so disappointing.  It's not the war, either, its the completely wasted opportunities:  Spending and Tax Reform being the two that spring to mind.

Interstingly enough, Democrats who want to appear as centrists use the word 'disapointing' the same was 'centrist' republicans used it during the Clinton years: "I am just disapointed that such a great political mind misused his popular support", their story went. There is nothing wrong with the expression in theory, but it's most often a ruse, since people who say things like that can't name one  position of the opposing party that they agree with. I have no problem listing a half dozen good things about Clinton's presidency, though I have genuine  contempt for the guy. I hold Al Gore, and Kerry, and Hillary in much higher regard, strangely enough.

So when I say I am disapointed , I mean it.   DaveM pointed that this morning’s headline is “Bush to support constitutional ban on gay marriage”.  Right, that’s the friggen problem George, gay marriage.   Granted, one headline does not tell the whole story, but still, what a crock. Vote Ulaszewski.

On a light note, someone asked me where I was from this weekend and I said "Atlanta".  The relief I felt when I realized that I didn't have to expand on it, was palpable.  I may play the aloof card a bit -The reluctant speaker who feigns exhaustion when asked to talk about the more interesting things in my life- but it's a genuine relief to be able to meet the "where are you from" question with a succinct, uninteresting, "Atlanta".

Then I drove back to Marietta.