Weekend In New England
So, yeah, DC would really get to me sometimes. I couldn't afford to run home to Chicagoland more than once in a blue moon, but I had a standing invitation to jump on the train, run up to Providence RI, and visit Ellen at Brown, and I often did. She would always set an appointment for me with her hairstylist in Cranston, who would give me a marvelous cut and color after hours and at an affordable price I would never get in DC for that level of quality (I think he did it as a favor to Ellen). Sometimes she'd have her girlfriend there -- one time in particular we had to do this reverse "La Cage Aux Folles" where I would pretend *I* was Ellen's girlfriend, since her real girlfriend had yet to come out to her parents (who were visiting), but what with my obvious heterosexuality I don't think I fooled them one single bit, and there was that dangling question of why it was so important for the parents to meet Ellen anyway if they were "just friends." Still, while the Oscar nominating committee won't be calling me anytime soon after that performance, it's made for lots of re-telling giggles here at JoAnn's Silver Top Diner. This was one of Ellen's favorite places, and it fast became mine too. I don't think I've been anywhere else in the country where I could get my food cooked under infra-red broiling and bottom line, the legendary blueberry pancakes (or were they muffins? but still...) were to die for. Especially at 3 in the morning after an evening of hair coloring and such.
Oh, sorry about the headline, it just fit, but I fully well realize that now, you've got that damn Barry Manilow dreck painfully in your head like those earworms in "Star Trek - The Wrath of Khan." So, here's RISD hanger-on Jonathan Richman singing on the same topic to make it all better.