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Thursday, May 29

you light up my van

We started early this morning, determined to have our set-up for this weekend's show go smoothly, on schedule, organized, uneventful. Ha! If you want to make God laugh, make plans. He is hysterical tonight.

We got to the rental place to pick up pipe and drape for our booth. Never heard of us. Uh huh. Many indecipherable walkie talkie convos ensued. Calls were made and not answered. Busy signals echoed against the warehouse walls. Finally I said to just call us when they got it worked out, we had until 4. And we went off to do other things.

PIcked up miscellaneous supplies with no drama. Tried to find new shoes. Lots of drama. My feet don't want shoes on them. They fight me. I gave up. We had lunch at Olive Garden where the rental place found us and announced that they had our stuff. OK, this is good. Picked up the rest of our stuff at home and headed to Lockport.

Oh, I love the Kenan show. It's like coming home. Many old friends to see. Easy set up. That went so smoothly I was feeling smug. God was snickering. We left, expecting to be home by 8:30. A luxury. 20 minutes later, halfway home, I ask Russell where our card spinner is and we realize we left it outside. It was supposed to be in the van because we need to repaint it. So, OK, we turn around, head back. So it adds a half hour. No biggie.

Head back home again. Making plans for the evening. God gets the giggles. We stop at Mighty Taco for a roastitio. The night is looking good. Hop on the highway . A van near us honks and waves. We wave back. He honks again, gesturing. I roll down the window. He tells us we have no rear lights. Russell pulls off at the next exit and into a gas station, followed by another guy who wanted to tell us we had no back lights. (Is this a guy thing?)

The fuse box is located but provides no info. Triple A can only tow us. The clerk in the gas station can't get a mechanic but she can loan Russ a flashlight to double check that the fuse box provides no info. The triple A guy says if we are near a Wal-Mart, we can get fuses. We look up and, in the night sky, see the sign. Wally World. A block away. Divine intervention? Was that always there? Hmmmm.

Russ goes into the store and I follow, but head for shoes. And it is there, trying on a pair of 8 dollar sandals, that my cell rings and Russ says he has fixed it. I am surpi....impressed. Very impressed. And off we go. To be home at midnight, not 8:30, but it's OK.

There were other things. My printer defied every command I gave it this afternoon. Took hours to print up the basics I need for the show. I will only have a few journals with lines because of that. What can you do?

Our internet connection died for reasons Time warner could not decipher, even after an hour of plugging and unplugging and restarting. In the long card ride home I had a vision that perhaps I should connect the modem directly to the 'puter because it might be the AiPort thingy and I was right.

I'm going to go to bed before anything else gets screwed up. Tomorrow is Kenan, the show that really starts the season for us. Everything else is just the overture.

I will make no plans. Promise.

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