Nothing like working late on a Friday night. Followed by an aimless stroll through Target where I bought a loaf of bread, a carton of milk. (No stick of butter as I bought butter for cookie making at Rainbow just the other day.) I can't remember if that was a saturday morning cartoon thing or if that was on something like sesame street where the little boy was sent to the store and and he kept repeating...all I need is a loaf of bread a carton of milk and a stick of buttah.

Ah childhood...we watched a lot of tv. Especially Saturday and Sunday mornings. Favorites in no particular order: Almost anything School House Rock, although near the end conjunction junction kind of got on my nerves. All time favorite SHR - Bill.

We liked Ritchie Rich. Jerry liked anything Marvel or Batman and Pete liked Hong Kong Phooey. I also remember sunday mornings before Sunday School we'd watch The New Zoo Review and this Great Time Machine program, mom or dad would drop us off for sunday school and we'd return home in time to watch Beyond the Magic Door (which was this jewish kids / puppet program) that was on on Sunday mornings. So while dad watch Luche Libre (yep the same mexican wrestling thing that was the inspiration for Nacho Libre movie last year) we kids gathered around the black and white tv downstairs.

We also thought we were cool because Andy Jackson went to kindergarten with us and his dad was the main creator of The Gigglesnort Hotel. (Jerry gifted me with a VHS copy of the gigglesnort hotel two years ago for christmas and I will have to say...what were we thinking!!! That had to be the DUMBEST SHOW I have ever had the misfortune to re-watch as an adult.

Back to pondering.

So I went to Potbelly for a sandwich after the Target wander and that store is a bit small to begin with however they created a little stage above the seating area (think of dorm room lofts) and this college aged woman was playing her guitar (kind of sounded like she had some loose strings or was playing one of those toy guitars you can buy at Walmart.) And she was singing what I term "angry single woman out of a friday night" songs. She had a folksy voice but as I sat there listening (absolutely no one in the restaurant really was paying her any attention, infact as she finished her "set" I gave a polite clap and she looked a bit startled...which probably isn't a good thing perched up on her loft.) I pondered...how does one get a "gig" at Potbelly? Were there auditions? Did she just know a friend who knew a friend who heard they needed a folk singer? She ended her set with a hopeful "that's it for tonight...I'll be back tomorrow"

Ah well - gotta give her credit for practicing her craft and sharing her talent.