And now for something completely different: London is home to a collection of actors called the Liars’ League. Once a month they commandeer a bar and stage a reading of five short stories, They picked one of mine, “Frozen”, to include in their most recent round. It was billed by the director as, “a darkly comic tale of camping and nudity” – a description I could not possibly improve upon.
It was performed by Sophie Cartman, who did an amazing job – I could listen to her say “marshmallow” all day long. A million thanks to Sophie (1.2 million after you convert it from British pounds).
There is an ad campaign, the posters for which are easy to find in Chicago, called Mile after Magnificent Mile, which is meant to entice visitors to venture beyond the friendly confines of the city into the Illinois hinterlands. The ads are, as far as I can tell, completely and unequivocally ignored. No one from Chicago, and I mean no one, burns vacation time in downstate Illinois Continue reading “A Weekend at Illinois’ Cave-in-Rock State Park”
The college girls came bouncing past us in their bikinis. Itsy-bitsy, teenie-weenie, and polka-dotted. I was propped up against one of the only trees large enough to create any appreciable shade. I didn’t have the energy to ogle the polka-dots. I sighed and dragged myself to my feet Continue reading “Sandy”