I'm going to see Ben Folds at Saltair in April, with the historian, singing son and his wife, and my daughter the makeup artist. Then, Dr. Write managed to wrangle the fact out of the internets that Rufus Wainwright is coming to Park City this weekend! The stupid website of the venue won't work, at least not for buying tickets, but I'm hopeful that first thing tomorrow morning I will have purchased tickets, one for her and one for me. This is all a little bittersweet, it must be said, because Ben Folds and Rufus W. are two of running son's very favorite artists. But I've got to go (I've got to go, I've got to go, cause I'm leaving on a midnight train to . . . Magna? Heber?).
This afternoon, college daughter and I started our spring break early by seeing Vantage Point, which is a risible exercise with a rogue Secret Service Agent and a car chase that made me want to exit this life prematurely. However, the film also boasted Dennis Quaid in a performance that simultaneously channeled Clint Eastwood's, in In the Line of Fire, and Arnold Schwarzenegger's, in The Terminator. I wish I could show you a visual. Seriously, he just wouldn't die no matter how many times they killed him. But luckily? They saved the president, so the world could go on and order was restored. Thank goodness there was root beer to ease the pain.
After that, we bought our first pairs of flipflops for the year. Because spring is almost here, sort of. And then we took Bruiser to the dog park in the rain. And then, after making dinner, I fell asleep for half an hour--apparently, it's just too much excitement to stay awake for.