The Weekend in Foolish Attention

Bits and bytes of the week

A CHICAGO BUCKET LIST ITEM. I finally, after thirty years living here, went to watch the turning of the river green for St. Patrick’s day and caught the parade. It was an iconic shitshow with thousands of drunk idiots at 9:00am cheering and crowding and peering over bridges to watch boats spewing green liquid and churning it up. I started to walk up to my place with the intent of grabbing a bus but ended up strolling through more thousands doing pub crawls in a million shades of green. I used to be fully Irish (at least that’s what I was told) until my mom found out that we’re half Welsh. Given that St. Patrick was probably born in Wales, it all worked out well for me.

HE’S LUCKY HE WASN’T TRIED IN DODGE CITY, KS. It looks like Donald Trump needs to arrange a $454 million bond to comply with a New York Court ruling in less than a week, but the Grifter-in-Chief says he can't find a company to put up the bond.

Sure, New York is going to come after his non-liquid assets if he can’t guarantee the payment but if he had been levied this fee by the magistrate in a small Kansas town, known for their copious speed traps and tenacious pursuit of even $37.00, he’d be in chains right now.

TRAUMATIZING RETIRED WOMEN. I bought a ticket to a storytelling show in Arlington Heights. A single seat at a table for four. When I arrived, there were three ladies dining. I grabbed my seat, introduced myself, and, keeping in mind I was not a part of their night, tried to avoid either listening in or inserting myself.

“Do I know you?” asked one of them.

“I don’t think so.”

“Are you one of the performers?”

“Not tonight. In May, but not tonight.”

“Wait! You’re the picture she sends out to promote the show!”

It’s true. For a few years after leaving Chicago, the producer of this show used a picture of me telling a story as the masthead for her promotional emails.

Suddenly, I’m the new thing at the table and all three are now interested. At some point, I mention the Casino book. One looks it up on her phone and stops short. “Wait. What is this other book about?”

Ah. Yes.

I spend the time it takes them to finish their charcuterie board and get halfway through entrees answering their many questions about the other book.

“We wondered who bought this seat and were speculating who it might be but, Don, you were definitely not what we expected.”

I get that a lot.

Kinda creepy but I wish this was around in 2014, if you know what I mean…

THE GHOSTS YOU WANT BE HAUNTED BY. Of course, coming back to the big city after a five year absence, there were likely to be people whom I have no interest in interacting with. I’m looking to provide more grace in my life but that does not equal engaging those who have proven to have been disloyal, vindictive, or simply lousy friends. I am warned by some to avoid those who I would’ve avoided anyway and stories of unlikely camaraderie between others I find suspicious. As the Book says one can choose which ghosts to be haunted by and my choice to get back here has zero to do with returning to that set of circumstances.

It’s slightly overwhelming but I’m solid. Focusing on my day to day, seeing the few people I actually trust, reminding myself that my trust is thing I give and can easily withhold. Sure, given my history, my trust issues are tantamount but I recognize it and can proceed accordingly. Spending a year and change with my family (whom I trust without reservation) but few else has left the muscle a bit atrophied but I’ll get it all back.

FAT SHITBIRD CALLING THE KETTLE BLACK. Donald Trump going on about how fat Illinois Governor JB Pritzker fat is a bit surreal, yeah? At least he didn’t decide to try to shame Pritzker for being a criminal and a rapist with serious debt troubles…

HOT POT? YEAH! Had dinner with Ada Chang Wednesday. She suggested Happy Lamb Hot Pot. Never had it before but in my pursuit of different cuisine and flavors, I was in. It was tremendous. So was the conversation cementing how completely unchanged the storytelling scene is from what it was. Same petty squabbles, same players pulling the same shit. Still in my ‘gathering intel’ on my new (old) home, I’m finding myself less inclined to jump into the same old pools of experience. Been there, done that, amiright? I’ll hop onstage next month and get some stage time to see if it sparks that familiar high but something I became accustomed to in Wichita is the blanket of anonymity. In contrast to my dad’s admonition that “You just like the attention,” I’m finding that I’d rather get the right kind of attention rather any kind I can get if attention is even on the table at all.

AMERICANS ARE UNHAPPY. Looks like America hit a real low on the happiness index this week. I’d suggest that when you spend a majority of the time focused on the problems in life and a minority of time checking in on the positives, you’re just gonna end up unhappy. Not rocket science, kids. A society with multiple chips on shoulders is bound to be a whiny bunch of sad sacks. Go get some hot pot and your mood will improve.

IT’S BEEN THREE WEEKS, CALM DOWN. That’s a quote from my boss as I tell her about my researching the arts scene to determine next steps. She’s 100%.

NOT GOOD NEWS. “Two of the largest U.S. newspaper chains will stop using content from one of the largest global wire services—a stunning development in news media,” reports Poynter. “McClatchy—which owns about thirty newspapers, including the Miami Herald and The Kansas City Star—will stop using some AP services… We’re talking about millions. The move will save Gannett money, and at the same time, will cost the AP money… The AP has journalists in every state, as well as nearly a hundred countries.”

At this point, we have to assume that everything we read news related on a national level is either made up or created via AI. You know, like getting your news from TikTok (Gen Z) or Facebook (Boomers).

---

That’s the week! Do something nice for yourself this coming week and calm down.