NP: The New Pornographers, Electric Version (CD)

It's funny how things can change when you're not looking.

Last night, I finally got around to seeing Big Fish. Not a bad flick, and I guess the personal message I can take from it is the difference between the creative and the analytical mind. There was a definite Mulder/Scully thing going on between Edward Bloom and his son Will, and nowhere was this demonstrated more thoroughly than with Will's stunningly bad attempt at telling stories like his dad that purported to be the big emotional payoff.

Which isn't to say the moment didn't have an impact, but I was already well down that creative vs. analytical path and couldn't really back up. That'll happen sometimes.

More importantly, the evening gave me an opportunity to meander a bit around what used to be part of my extended neighborhood. When I lived by Wrigley, I'd walk down Clark Street as far down as Tower Records, for obvious reasons, and since I've moved and become so much more car-dependent, I just don't find myself in that part of town very much.

So I was very surprised to see the shiny new assisted living complex as part of the redevelopment of the formerly empty lot just south of Diversey. Along with a Best Buy. All in all, it looks like a positive use of the space, even with a big box retailer involved. Except that it's not in a big box. I'm noticing this more and more, most recently with the Trader Joe's and Circuit City that have joined the traffic and parking clusterfuck that is the Clybourn Corridor. Stores are trying to integrate into the architectural style of the area, rather than stick out in the middle of a parking lot.

Some of this is obviously due to the lack of big parking lots, but it's a somewhat aesthetically pleasing trend. Even if it rammed home the point that southern Lakeview/northern Lincoln Park isn't my stomping ground anymore.

From an entirely different angle, the evening was a pleasant surprise. Or a seismic event, but the first precedes the second. As is now customary on Saturday nights, I fled the impending schmoop of the apartment for the movies and points beyond. Immediately, I saw lots of couples, and guys with flowers, and while I've moved beyond the ritualistic bashing of Valentine's Day as it's become more and more mainstream (although you should still go here), it still affected me at least a little.

Then I realized that the last time I was at this particular movie theater, it was with someone that I had high hopes for, only for that to go nowhere fast. So, fleeing a relationship currently inhabiting my apartment, check. Many people out celebrating relationships, check. Choice of entertainment reminding me of failed relationship, check. This was not looking good.

The movie was, though, and then there was the nostalgic walkabout, ending with a party thrown by one of the regulars at Vaughan's. Stroke of luck number one was that since one of the bartenders from that establishment broke her hand in a drunken frenzy last week, she couldn't work and ended up at the party. So I knew more people than just the host. Stroke of luck number two? Good conversation and the promise of more in the future. Lets leave it at that for now. Although it could become the mother of all causal connections and reaffirm my belief in complexity theory, but again, that's a story for another time.