121 Days until B'con in Indy. Wow.My only experience with Indy was a layover for my brother's wedding to a beauty from a popcorn growing family and, boy, did that bite. Not the wedding or my beautiful sister-in-law, but the layover. My fondest memory of their wedding was my Uncle Eddie (now passed) stuffing his foil-lined pockets with shrimp cocktail, much to my family's dismay. I could've cared less. I was so hammered and dancing like a cracked-out Kevin Bacon on his shitty VW.
Indianapolis. I hear there's great steaks to be had in this gem of the Midwest. I am so open to meat recommendations, soul food recommendations, BBQ. Give me a list people. Please.
Enough about B'con.
Idea for flash fiction challenge. Patti? You reading? What if those signing up for the challenge have to write a story where Jeff Spicoli (upper left) is either the main character or a walk on? Just a thought. I caught the end of Fast Times at Ridgemont High the other day, the Judge Reinhold closing scene--the one where Brad Hamilton (Reinhold) thwarts a hold-up by tossing hot coffee on gunman and Spicoli compliments him for his daring, "Allllright, Hamilton!"--Oingo Boingo cued--roll the credits.
Yeah, people can point to Mystic River, or Dead Man Walking or even State of Grace as Penn's finest hour as an actor, but Spicoli? Tell me you don't love the guy. Dude can fix anything. His dad's got this awesome set of tools.