…retreeeeet! At least for Friday night.
My friend K and I were invited to a play last night. It was called Art. It was four people talking about the Meaning of Art. I really wanted to go home and watch What Not to Wear. Hello I am a happy Philistine.
Today I have to go to a conference put on by history students to talk about librarianship as a career for history majors.
Being a librarian means never having to ask, "Do you want fries with that?" I went to library school because I didn't want to be a bank teller any more. Is that encouraging enough? The talk is 2-3:45pm. I hope somebody shows up.
Today the NCAA basketball final four games are played. I don't really have a dog in the hunt, but I just want to make a small personal note:
Titus Pullo, Mike Love. Mike Love looks grimmer on the court. He plays for UCLA. Not that I'm rooting for UCLA. I'm just sayin'.
I went to Birmingham to see the first rounds of the NCAA tournament with my family. All the teams we saw are out now. We got to see the famous St. Joseph's hawk:
He flaps his wings through the entire game, from the national anthem, one wing flapping and the other held over his heart, through half time, until he leaves the floor after the final buzzer–he left with alacrity, looking neither left nor right, and I'm sure his feelings were mixed about his team getting booted in the first round. My nephew asked, "How are they chosen? Last man flapping at tryouts?" My brother asked, "What do you think he does after the game?" and my mother answered "Double rotator cuff surgery." Broad shoulders, skinny legs, we were thinking. Every member of my family told me the Hawk got a full ride scholarship, so it must be true.