June should be pretty fun. Got Allison’s wedding coming up, in a few weeks. I’ll be spinning the tunes for that shin-dig, Pretty pumped. Been practicing—getting myself really acquainted with Djay®. It’s a blast.
I’ll also be directing my first full-blown television commercial—and doing it solo, since Anthony will be in Europe on another job. This spot is pretty cool. My concept. For a pretty, shall we say, interesting client. Looking forward to it. More details, once we’re in production.![]()
Our reclaimed barn wood headboard is lacquered, assembled and installed. Looks pretty delightful, I’d say. A real statement piece. I think it’s a step in the right direction in our bedroom. We desperately need to turn that room into a comfortable, functional, thoughtfully designed space. Right now, it’s just a place to sleep. And a catch-all for clothes and every other kind of junk-ass crap.![]()
Bought some grown-ass man shoes with some freelance money I just got. The only non-sneakers I own, at the moment, are dress shoes and my boots—which are 10 years old and have fallen apart beyond repair, according to my local cobbler. So, these Steve Madden® Fathomm slip-ons are set to become my go-to casual/comfortable shoes. Not as lame as straight-up boat shoes, not as stiff as straight-up loafers. These are somewhere in-between. And I dig the white soles. They should arrive tomorrow. I’m sure they’ll be cool; but, I know they’ll be even cooler a year or two from now, when they’re good and worn-in.
Checked out the Strawberry Festival back home in picturesque Cheswick, Pennsylvania, this past weekend. I say picturesque sarcastically because, check this out:
Nothing like a whole town gathering to eat strawberry shortcake in the shadow of a massive, coal-burning generating station. Seriously. Rachel Carson Park is literally 50 yards from GenOn®’s Cheswick station. (Kind of funny that this park is named for Rachel Carson, probably our country’s most famous environmentalist.)
I didn’t think anything of it. Having grown up in Cheswick, the sight of the stacks doesn’t phase me. Hell, I rode my bike through the trails right next to the plant. Climbed on the coal reserves that were had piled up at the bottom of the hill behind my grandparents’ house. And I haven’t grown a third arm or felt my lungs collapse, yet.
Breanne, however, was a bit shocked, when we arrived. Aside from the stacks, all the high-tension lines, transformers, turbines, cooling towers and generators can be a bit overwhelming for someone who’s never seen that kind of stuff up-close.
I assured her we’d survive, and we had a pleasant evening at the Strawberry Festival. As evidenced by these photographs:
Strawberry shortcake hit the spot, for Oskar.
As did the bouncing castle-thing.
Topped it all off with a sweet fire helmet and a glow-in-the-dark Cheswick Fire Department cup. Score.
And while I’m showing you kid pictures, here’s a random one I snapped on our front porch that turned out pretty nice:
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Oblivians ► Call the Police









Things are looking good out front, too. The potted petunias are killing it, blooming like sons of bitches. New cushions and pillows, new rug. Very homey.













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