Weekend Roundup Mark II

BLLLLARGHGHGH. All yesterday I kept trying and trying to post to blogger. It would save, but not publish. Rather than the cute little status clock thing coming up telling me my blog was 50 . . . 70 . . . 100% published, I got the big 404 error. Maddening.

Still, it seemed like a site problem. When everything else is working and a single page seems to be down, I generally assume it isn't a client-side error.

At least not until now. In Internet Explorer's constant battle to drive me insane, the bar has been raised.

It was as an afterthought that I tried publishing in Firefox. It worked just fine. Go figure.

I've known IE (actually, Crazy Browser, which is IE hacked with tab and integrated Google functionality--up till now the most convenient browser I've ever used) was taking on water for a while now, I just didn't want to switch. I'm lazy. Also though, Firefox doesn't seem to like the Flash installs I do. I install, and Flash works until I reboot. I then have to reinstall. Annoying. So maybe it's IE for browsing and Firefox for the important stuff.

My eLife is beginning to take on the complications of my real life. So much for escapism.

Also, for some god-unknown reason, IE won't display my picture of Vizzini from the blog about Socialism. I had to get image hosting because I'd been just direct-link ganking pictures from sites to suit my needs, but every picture of Vizzini I could find was hosted on Angel Fire or some other site that doesn't allow direct-linking. So I got some space at imageshack.us. Except the pic wouldn't render. I tried a few different things, but eventually gave up.

Then today, on Firefox, there is Vizzini in all his glory. Bleh.

And now this brilliance. Firefox keeps the formatting from Word when I cut and paste. That's something I would expect from a Microsoft browser. Firefox it is.

“I fell asleep, he musta crawled in there for warmth.”

* * *

The other day Ben offered an apology after the fact for his provincial humor. I feel bad I haven’t done the same with my highly localized angst. Sorry.

That doesn’t mean it’s going to stop.

Tonight, I see David Byrne at the Pier. I saw him I guess three years ago at the Fox in Spokane. This is a fundamental flaw with Spokane. He sells out a venue bigger than the Spokane Coliseum in Seattle. He played to empty seats in a renovated movie theatre in Spokane. There weren’t a lot of empty seats, but the point remains.

These are the things upon which my decision rests.

The funny thing is, I met him after the Spokane show, and all he could talk about was how he’d never played in a place as great as the Fox, that it rivaled his favorite New York clubs. His band seemed to agree. I’m sure it was lip service, or that he was really high, but we talked for about 10 minutes. He was in no hurry. Nice guy.

I can guarantee I wouldn’t get within half a mile of him at tonight’s show. Sometimes when a flaw involves less need for crowd control, it can be a strength.

I had a similar experience with Colin Malloy of the Decemberists, which I kind of expected, considering he was working the band’s merchandise rack after the set. He seemed amused that I was leaving after his set and before the headliners came on. If you want to hear a juvenile tirade, ask me about the Long Winters sometime. Preview: I hate them, I hate them, I hate them.

Anyway, I felt like a tool asking Byrne for his autograph—after we’d connected on such a superficial level—but I’d just paid 30 bucks for one of his books. I had to protect my investment.

“Can’t I just be sad about a horse without some touchy-feely Freudian bullshit?”