Buddy Holly & blueberries

These "Cricket" mobile phone store are popping up all over DC like swine flu in an elementary school. Does DC really need more commercial eyesores? Cathy's store sits about a block and a half away from a new one of these places and almost helps to create a karmic zeroing of their aesthetic banality. What a waste of positive visual space.

This past weekend we put up the permanent sign for the space. It was one of the first pieces completed, but the DCRA was maddening as usual, and the sign permit ended up taking a back seat to more pressing paperwork. Finally, Cathy succeeded in showing enough leg to get the permits, and we were off. Unlike with the Cricket Mobile stores, we have done most of this work ourselves or with the help of good friends who have a high tolerance for aggravation. Using a 24 ft. ladder, a hammer drill and the keen ability to ignore common sense, I was able to secure the sign in place. Many of our new neighbors came out to smoke, talk shop, and watch the semi-semi-professional work up close. 3/4 of the way through the process I removed a dull drill bit that had been stripped. As with all of the small tools I was using, I placed it in my left shirt pocket. What I didn't think of was that the drill bit has gotten molten hot and, while precariously perched atop the 24 foot ladder, and I had to struggle to get the bit away from my person before I set myself on fire. Thankfully I didn't fall, but my left nipple did not fare so well.

The Montana festival feels like a lifetime ago at this point. Cathy and I are gearing up for the Maine festival where I will run around like a mad man making sure that the hundreds of artists are happy while Cathy will be digging for old clothes and stuffing her face with lobster and blueberries (often all three at the same time).