Whine and cheese Friday

Regis is making Ruben sandwiches for us while I finish the last bottle of summer wine, a white Barefoot Cellars sauvignon blanc that tastes good when it's 90 degrees but not so good when it's 40. We switch to darker beer and redder wine when fall comes.

I made it back safely from the conference, having time to ruminate on the many irritations of hanging out with 800 people for 2 days. This is not the same blog post you will read on the Special Education blog that I keep for the district, by the way. A few of my observations:

• Some people can't sit next to another human being without talking. Two women behind me this morning processed everything the speaker said in a loud stage whisper. They missed half of what the speaker said, so the other person constantly said, "What'd he say?" I sit in the front because I'm easily distracted and I couldn't figure out a polite way to tell them to shut the hell up.
• Even presenters with PhDs can be random and irritating. I had to leave the 8-12 session because the presenter kept backtracking and segue-ing. I was gnashing my teeth.
• When they have this many heavy hitters at a conference of this size, somebody should tell the break-out presenters not to present AGAIN the basic information that you already learned.

Enough carping. All in all, it was fascinating. One funny story. I walked into the 10:30 session this morning and the presenter said, "Hey, aren't you the woman who was lost downtown yesterday?" Yeah. That's me.

This is a picture of Bob Dylan in his early days. I love his hair and wish I could achieve that lofty curly hair look with the sullen poetic pout.

Bob has a new CD coming out in a month (I call him by his first name because I saw his concert in Mankato ten years ago.) so I just pre-ordered it. I had to bribe Regis with a bag of M&Ms not to do that voice that he thinks is Bob Dylan. He makes fun of me for liking Bob and I make fun of him for feeling nostalgic about You Can't Get to Heaven on the Frankford El.