This is one of those posts where I'm struggling with my blogging persona. Friday's frivolity created a wealth of fodder for my blog, but I enjoy having a regular pay check and health insurance, so I am ever mindful of the line which denotes oversharing. To bump right up against that line without crossing it is a delicate thing. Interestingly, I ignore that line's existence completely when I write fiction. Fiction is...well, fiction...and to quote author Christina Dodd, should be written "balls to the wall" or don't bother. I agree wholeheartedly.
But Friday's frivolity is non-fiction, the kind of wonderful reality everyone needs now and again. Especially after one has suffered through a particularly miserable Thanksgiving. I joined Linda and company in Louisville for dinner and Lewis Black at the Palace.
My friend, Linda, has an eclectic group of friends. How she collected me, I couldn't say. I'm not strangely quirky or a walking, talking nonsequiter like some of her other close friends. I am able to think on my feet, a necessary survival skill in that crowd, and I guess that qualifies me for inclusion.
Donnie is a writer/musician who has lived big. I infer this from the wealth of information he imparted on a variety of subjects about which I was clueless. And mind you, I read a lot. He has a rapier wit with no filter, and early on in the evening, before I got the lay of the land, he had me sputtering and choking on just about everything he said. Donnie is the primary reason I'm struggling with my blogging persona. I want to title this post with one of his nuggets of wisdom, but I'm certain it crosses that heretofore mentioned line. Really....every funny thing he said crosses that line.
We ate dinner at a hibachi grill, and together, Linda and Donnie managed to thoroughly piss off our chef. Linda annoyed him because she kept getting distracted, missing his tricks, and then wanting him to do them again. How she missed a flaming onion volcano is a mystery. The flames shot three feet into the air directly in front of her. After he dismantled the volcano and began to cut up the onion, Linda said, "Oh...he didn't do the volcano thing." To say the chef gave her a black look would be an understatement. Combine Linda's inattentiveness with Donnie's eye-rolling and refusal to be impressed, and I can only applaud the chef's professionalism. He never once threw his large knife in either of their directions.
After the show, as we followed Robert's complicated instructions for meeting him at the car (Robert is Linda's husband and seems to have a zen quality about him in these situations. Donnie said they only let Robert come along to pay for things and park the car.), Donnie pointed out a strip joint sitting adjacent to a bar. He proceeded to explain that in Louisville, full-frontal nudity is not allowed in an establishment that serves alcohol, so the patrons have to shuffle back and forth between the bar and the strip joint. Toplessness and alcohol are legal together. Linda piped in and said that Lexington, a smaller city, is more progressive in this respect. Donnie's response? "If beer and b*** are your measuring stick, then yes, Lexington is more progressive than Louisville."
We had expensive floor seats (Thank you Robert) to see Lewis Black, a nationally recognized comedian. I see him regularly on The Daily Show. He was funny, riffing on politics, Tiger Woods, and such. I was entertained. But the only line from the entire evening I actually remember is Donnie's.
Tomorrow, I'll blog about Linda's friend, John. His story about a box of porn, a Baptist preacher, and a man with cerebral palsy really needs an audience.