My weekend was pretty uneventful. On Saturday I went to Milwaukee to have lunch with my dad's sister and her husband. My dad comes from a Catholic family, and is the youngest of seven kids. He'd 56 and his oldest brother is 72. They grew up in relative poverty (less than the equivalent of $10,000/year), but all of his sisters married into wealth and his brothers managed more or less to muscle their way into the Good Ol' Boy Network. Consequently, my father is the only one in the family who can't afford to vote Republican, and possibly the only one who doesn't (though Aunt Thelma has been suspected of being a leftist sympathizer).
My sister and I were a little worried because last time we had dinner with my aunt and uncle, the discourse turned to politics and we got a lot of "Fox News good, NPR bad." Not so this year. Actually, the political content of the afternoon boiled down mostly to "now you kids voted, right? Good for you." It was a relief that we talked about the things families talk about -- "How's the new house working out? How can you possibly stand to live with all those pets? Does anybody actually like reality shows?" The meal was enormous and very, very good, and we watched the football game on TV afterward. I wouldn't normally do that, but I guess it's nice to know who won for the water cooler discussion at work. The guys from Wisconsin were the ones who were wearing red, right? Kidding. We don't have a water cooler.
On Sunday I'd planned just to do my laundry, but evil_jim called and I decided to hang out with him. We did stuff and it was pretty cool. He gave me a photograph signed by Mr. McFeely himself, David Newell. Apparently he was at a book signing (or something?) which Jim attended while he was in Washington DC. Jim would be back on my good side except that he hasn't been off it since The Noodle Incident, which reminds me -- what have you all done for me lately? It's been awhile since any of you have offered me a good human sacrifice.
Anyway, shortly before I left Jim's place I received a call from my parents informing me that the Aurora Borealis was visible, so we went out and had a look. After I left Jim probably drove further out of town to get a better view, but I had laundry to finish so I stayed in and watched Bananas. Woody Allen makes a poor substitute for the Northern Lights, but he's easier to pilfer catchphrases and one-liners from.
Now I'm at my desk listening to Brak from Space Ghost, in case you wanted to know.