Events

The Chicago Tribune published a short list of dog-friendly beer gardens this morning, but left Evanston's Tommy Nevin's Pub off the list. I guess Nevin's doesn't qualify as a beer garden per se. The omission notwithstanding, Parker and I will work our way through the list as the summer goes on.

I found myself thinking about this lilting ditty around 5 this morning: I woke early one morning,The earth lay cool and stillWhen suddenly a tiny birdPerched on my window sill, He sang a song so lovelySo carefree and so gay,That slowly all my troublesBegan to slip away. He sang of far off placesOf laughter and of fun,It seemed his very trilling,brought up the morning sun. I stirred beneath the coversCrept slowly out of bed,Then gently shut the windowAnd crushed his f@&$!!g head.

Long-time readers of The Daily Parker know that I don't usually discuss my personal life. Sometimes, however, I have an experience that doesn't involve Parker (except for putting him in his crate on a rainy weekend day), that moves me to break that rule. On Saturday, I and about 100 other alumni of Glenbrook North High School wished our choir director, Judy Moe, a happy retirement. She and David Walter (the music department chair while I was there) taught me more about music than anyone since. Their...

Still no cicadas to report, but I did just see a firefly. I think this is the earliest I've ever seen one—usually they seem to come out around the solstice.

No one (and no dogs) got hurt the other day when, according to my dog-walking service, someone mistook the accelerator for the brake pedal and plowed through their storefront in Evanston. Said the owner: "fortunately [our greyhound] Jupiter was staying home that day. He likely would have been doggy mush if he had been stationed in his usual place...!" And the driver? "Oh, she's fine. And her car had hardly a scratch." No word on when they expect their storefront to be repaired. All of the windows were...

Watching for his buddies at the morning play group:

Yes, it's a holiday, but when you own a small business sometimes you work seven days a week. Yesterday, for example, Parker came in to help with my filing: I don't think I'll staff the job out to him just yet, however, given his propensity to eat the files. I'm still looking for cicadas, though none seems to have emerged near me. Yesterday riding my bike I heard one in Highland Park and one in Winnetka, but so far I haven't heard any, nor seen any nymphs or shells in Evanston. If Parker only knew they...

The Chicago Tribune has an interactive cicada map to plot out reports of 17-year cicadas emerging. Cool.

No photo today. Instead, yesterday's message from the dog-walking service: "He was excellent today. He even had a crap, which is getting to be rare." I'm so glad someone else is as interested in my dog's bowel movements as I.

I remember 25th May 1977 well. My dad and I waited in a very, very long line in Torrance, Calif., for some movie he wanted to see, and said I would really like. He had to read the opening crawl to me—something about some rebellion somewhere. I had no idea what it meant. Then I saw the first spaceship—the first one, the little one, not the planet-sized one chasing it—and I was in love. Yes, 30 years ago today, Star Wars hit the theaters. Wow.