R.A.G.E.

I got home last night, pretty late after what I like to call a 'Chicago Handshake' which involves six or more hours at O'Hare, often a few gate changes and several security re-screenings, and occasionally followed by a lost bag upon arrival. When I got home I found this waiting for me, and found it vaguely comforting.

I had gone from Boston to Chicago to program the next tour at a big warehouse in the middle of nowhere, or in the middle of Illinois, whichever you prefer. I flew in, rented a car and drove the hour and a half through corn fields and leering cows to Sycamore. It was actually really pleasant.















As an aside, I busied myself during the four and a half-hour flight by watching 27 dresses without the audio and trying to work out the cryptic messages that Catherine Heigel's weird, cheshire face were giving off. Also, I made notes on words and phrases that were entirely edited out of CBS's 'How I Met Your Mother.' The following is a brief, but still confounding list of words that were cut straight out of the in-flight programming leaving the roar of jet engine in its place:

Boobs
Sleep
Vagina
Bitch
Slept

When I got to the hotel in Illinois there wasn't a whole lot going on apart from the T.G.I. Fridays-esque after-work bar next door. I still find their slogan 'where it's always five o'clock' to be a bit unsettling.

No more unsettling than the farm supply store across the parking lot which sold everything from complete welding kits to Larry the Cable Guy's wardrobe.















Then I spent about ten straight hours staring at this giant screen with its little, CGI lego people, and tried to pretend that it was a rock show. And so it was....