Of bridges

I started this blog a few years back, but didn't point it out to anyone. I didn't care who -- or if anyone -- would read it. I thought it might be fun to document the fun evenings my friends and I would have while dining and imbibing. I thought I also might teach myself a bit more than the basic html I already knew.

Then I got married, didn't write as much until my marriage was heading south, and eventually erased the whole thing. I think it's high time I wrote another post about dining, even though it was standard bar fare.

Last night I got together with some lads from my home town at The Village Tap in Roscoe Village. Petey, Skinner's Brother, and their friend J. and I decided to meet, hoist a few pints and connect after not seeing each other for quite a few years. (Actually, I'd never met J., but he was an old friend of the other two.)

So, we're sitting there, talking smart, telling lies, laughing, keeping an occasional eye on the Cubbies/Phillies game televised in the ubiquitous corner TV. We're eating pita and hummus, hot wings and drummies, and washing it all down with microbrews. At some point, I look up and notice the ballgame is no longer on. Some sort of calamity has struck -- CNN is on, and a bridge has collapsed. My eyes widen as I notice "Minneapolis" and "35W", my former and sometimes current stomping grounds. When I'm in Minneapolis, I cross that bridge every day at rush hour.

Our jaws hit the table. I don't have my cell phone with me, so I can't call any friends back home and get the skinny. Petey has his Blackberry with him, and calls his sister-in-law in Minneapolis. She gives us a little more information, and lets us know that everyone she can think of is safe.

I... I... I, I, I.

I don't know what to say, other than I hope those who were involved in the catastrophe are okay. My heart goes out to those who were smushed or have drowned, and their friends and families. I don't envy those who now have to make a daily trek to find another route across the mighty Mississippi.

The smartiepants over at The Aristocrats had something cogent to say about it, as usual. And have also put into words what many of us are thinking.

“No structural deficiencies” reported in 2006 on the bridge, according to Gov. Tim Pawlenty, however, it had been rated "structurally deficient" in 2005. Apparently still stinging from the heckuva job they did in New Orleans, the White House promises a "robust" federal response, to the tune of a whopping $5 million and some prayers. The Preznit also offered his sympathies, and used a press conference doing so to also slam the Democrats.

At least one pundit seems almost bummed out that terrorists didn't cause it, and whines about people "crawling out of their padded cells to pin the collapse on conservatives."

And 4o years ago, during the Summer of Love, Bobbie Gentry had a song about a bridge.

I was 5 years old, and perhaps I can trace my attraction to brunettes -- from youthful lusting after Raquel Welch and Agent 99, to adult lusting after my ex-wife -- to Bobbie Gentry.

I remember being excited to watch the Smothers Brothers each week. And one night -- bonus! -- they gave us this, performed live: