Monday, October 18, 2004
The Wisdom of Tom Boyle
I think it's OK to start talking about baseball again.
I stopped by Yesterday on my way home the other day (that yellow shack on Addison just down the street from my house that's painted as bright as the optimism Cub fans in Wrigleyville hold for most of the year). I really popped in to check out an interesting looking James Dean bumper sticker, but stayed to chat baseball, another bastion of American nostalgia, and walked out with a new friend.
Yesterday is the kind of place you'd go to to buy a Dodgers World Series pennant from 1988, a Mark Grace headshot from 1982 or that Chicago Tribune paper from 1955. You could also pick up an advanced issue Spider-Man 2 poster or a "Curly for President" placard. Tom Boyle owns the yellow shack, which is how Yesterday is better known, particularly and affectionately recalled by the many fans who troop by on their way to a ball game. He's an old guy who's been around the block and back the other way by half a step, not much white hair left, nails chewed off. I guess you can call him a lifelong Cubs fan. He took the Jimmy D bumper sticker from the window and showed it to me, a souvenir from the James Dean Museum in Fairmont, Indiana. Five dollars -- out of my budget for a piece of kitsch. So Tom starts to tell me what a finn can buy me these days. If I threw in another dollar, I could own a Kerry Wood rookie card.
Just six dollars?
Yep, dropped to about a third of its value in the last 10 days of the regular season, just as soon as Woody sunk under the pressure of regular Joe-ness. (To put it in perspective, a talking bottle opener with Chippy Caray calling a home run doubled in value one day after the season ended.) In the picture on the card, Woody was slender, a kid, brimming with optimism. He looked like he could strike out 20 batters in a game.
Tom pulls out a photocopy from a Sun-Times page, so old he could maybe put it up for sale with the rest of his wares. He tells me to read it out loud. It's a letter he wrote in 1991, and in it, he talks about how the Cubs are always playing catch-up, how they always let the other guys score first and never quite get the runs back or can't hold on to the lead. How they always carry so much promise but like a sherpa whose union card expired, just drop the load to stare blankly into space at what to do next. How they can't play fundamental baseball, unlike the Cincinnati Reds, who showed from 13 games back how you can actually win a game with some bunting and a couple of pokes.
Tom points out again that he wrote the letter in 1991. His point being, it's 2004 and not much has changed. Other things that haven't changed in Chicago since 1991 -- they're still rude when serving you your red hot at the Wiener Circle. Stuffed pizza still makes you sick when you try to eat too much of it. You still find room for a Margie's Candies sundae no matter what. And everyone is sad again in October.
I stopped by Yesterday on my way home the other day (that yellow shack on Addison just down the street from my house that's painted as bright as the optimism Cub fans in Wrigleyville hold for most of the year). I really popped in to check out an interesting looking James Dean bumper sticker, but stayed to chat baseball, another bastion of American nostalgia, and walked out with a new friend.
Yesterday is the kind of place you'd go to to buy a Dodgers World Series pennant from 1988, a Mark Grace headshot from 1982 or that Chicago Tribune paper from 1955. You could also pick up an advanced issue Spider-Man 2 poster or a "Curly for President" placard. Tom Boyle owns the yellow shack, which is how Yesterday is better known, particularly and affectionately recalled by the many fans who troop by on their way to a ball game. He's an old guy who's been around the block and back the other way by half a step, not much white hair left, nails chewed off. I guess you can call him a lifelong Cubs fan. He took the Jimmy D bumper sticker from the window and showed it to me, a souvenir from the James Dean Museum in Fairmont, Indiana. Five dollars -- out of my budget for a piece of kitsch. So Tom starts to tell me what a finn can buy me these days. If I threw in another dollar, I could own a Kerry Wood rookie card.
Just six dollars?
Yep, dropped to about a third of its value in the last 10 days of the regular season, just as soon as Woody sunk under the pressure of regular Joe-ness. (To put it in perspective, a talking bottle opener with Chippy Caray calling a home run doubled in value one day after the season ended.) In the picture on the card, Woody was slender, a kid, brimming with optimism. He looked like he could strike out 20 batters in a game.
Tom pulls out a photocopy from a Sun-Times page, so old he could maybe put it up for sale with the rest of his wares. He tells me to read it out loud. It's a letter he wrote in 1991, and in it, he talks about how the Cubs are always playing catch-up, how they always let the other guys score first and never quite get the runs back or can't hold on to the lead. How they always carry so much promise but like a sherpa whose union card expired, just drop the load to stare blankly into space at what to do next. How they can't play fundamental baseball, unlike the Cincinnati Reds, who showed from 13 games back how you can actually win a game with some bunting and a couple of pokes.
Tom points out again that he wrote the letter in 1991. His point being, it's 2004 and not much has changed. Other things that haven't changed in Chicago since 1991 -- they're still rude when serving you your red hot at the Wiener Circle. Stuffed pizza still makes you sick when you try to eat too much of it. You still find room for a Margie's Candies sundae no matter what. And everyone is sad again in October.
Thursday, October 07, 2004
Driving All Night Chasing Some Mirage
The first weekend of October, with the Cubs season falling off the clothesline, the Yankees already clinched and two Bruce fans in absurd withdrawal a year after the barnstormin' end of "The Rising" tour...
Chicago -- October 1, 2004
Joan
Have landed in Chi-town an hour late and seen rain, rain and Wrigley Field. It's like Brooklyn, except for the losing baseball team. :) Anyway -- dinner at D'Agostinos (NOT, to my relief, the grocery store chain!) after chasing food across Wrigleyville and elsewhere. I am sleepy but excited -- we see Him in less than 24 hours!! Des is checking Backstreets for Philly's set list. It's looking pretty good. BUT this just in -- they're calling Him Mr. Scialfa on Backstreets, following some concert at the Roxy. Bad enough she has to ruin every rendition of every "Rising" song...
OK. It's late. We have an early start tomorrow. Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, cajun food, then the big push towards the pit, the Boss goils (heh) and night #1: Cleveland.
Des
There was no screen door slamming and Roy Orbison took the night off, but together with the pizza, D'agz proved itself one of the best parlours in the city once more when it served up a heartwarming jukebox rendition of "Thunder Road" together with our supremely thin crust mushroom and tomato pie. It's pretty official -- we're at the starting point of 850 miles of Bruce fever.
*****
A BP station in Indiana -- October 2, 2004
Des
9.12am, first gas stop. Joan fills the tank because she doesn't get to do it in Jersey.
Joan
AND -- save for mild credit card confusion, I have to say -- pulled it off seamlessly.
PS: INDIANA = SCARY. We've passed a field of refineries in Gary, then corn, then a car of antique men bearing Bush-Cheney stickers. We may have to deck Bruce (the car -- It and not Him) out in Kerry-Edwards paraphernalia just to counterbalance.
Listening to Giants Stadium (tour '03) concert. Patti is to the E Street Band like Indiana is to the greater USA.
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/desireekoh13/detail?.dir=5e99&.dnm=db97.jpg
Des
12.18pm. Stopped somewhere outside Toledo for gas and bathroom.
Joan
Fallen Timbers Service Plaza. Carnations in the ladies' room. Classy.
Des
Circa 2pm. Rolled into Cleveland. Checked out Fat Fish Blue, venue for dinner, then on to the Rock Hall. Fortune Corporate Battle of the Rock Bands contest going on, as well as a special Mary Wilson exhibit. Why? Don't know.
Rock Hall is just as I remembered it -- like some sort of a rock & roll frat house where everyone's memorabilia and paraphernalia from their jock strap days are displayed unabashedly. But to have an entire day there to read every scrap of handwritten songs on napkins, typewritten legal wrangles and pick-scratched guitars is better than being VH1 head honcho for the day. It's like a lifetime's worth of rock & roll in one visit, no college degree necessary. But rock & roll is bigger than all us of put together.
I was proud to see that many of the visitors were wearing Bruce shirts (in fact, it was easy to see later that most people at the show were there for Him, as the Bruuuucing began even before opening Bright Eyes took the stage). In this sometimes industrial, sometimes rural, a little bit commercial but always in the middle of nowhere Midwestern spot, Bruce is still, unarguably, everyone's hero.
Later on. Fat Fish Blue -- food was fantastic, but it's hard to not win over my gastronomical heart when you offer broiled crawdads. When Bruce wrote "Hungry Heart," this is really what he meant. I'll take this wrong turn and never go back.
After. The show -- sad to say, but all I wanted was for Bruce to take the stage. I felt bad for Bright Eyes (sounded good starting out but soon regressed to a slight hum above noisy ambience to me) and REM, but everyone knew who everyone had come to see. If Bruce shows are always passionate and energetic, think about when He's actually playing for a cause He believes in. If this was "Spinal Tap," we'd be turning the knob way up to "12." The finale with everyone on stage was rebel rousing -- even Bright Eyes looked like he was having fun (but everyone has fun with Bruce). What's so funny about Peace, Love and Understanding?
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/desireekoh13/detail?.dir=5e99&.dnm=7d45.jpg
*****
October 3, 2004
Joan
Bob Evans' Diner (post hash browns and postcard writing). Bruce has done it yet again -- totally astounded thousands and done the impossible. Concert last night was incredible, but we're about to head out toward Detroit, so I'll be bfe. Bright Eyes, tortured, angsty, and almost acidic demand for accountability. The kid'll go places, I think. All that intensity'll grow into something with real spirit -- maybe helped along by this series of concerts.
REM was a breath of fresh air. Michael Stipe is so gangly and animated and dapper in his white suit and marionnette dance moves. Wish they'd played more oldies to involve the crowd further, but was happy with what the band offered. Favorite moments: Michael standing on the front speaker, one hand pointing upwards, just waiting for the chords to die down. Then the long wait for Him: He who forbade "Broooocing" for the night's opening. (PS: I'm sighing as I write this).
Amazing opening included "The River" (!) and moved on to a house-party reminiscent Mary's Place... I could write forever about the set list, but don't have time (check Backstreets, silly!). John Fogery emerged energetic for some CCR... Michael Stipe for "Because the Night."
But the most phenomenal moment was the show's closing. Imagine a stage full of talented artistes covering the widest range of ages, talents and musical styles, leading an arena of thousands in this amazingly hopeful chorus of "Peace, Love and Understanding" and "People Have the Power" and really meaning it. Serious chills seeing this hope reflected on everyone's faces -- Bright Eyes, Michael Stipe and of course, Him -- as the arena resounded with an instrument-free chant/chorus of "the people have the power" over and over again. They've done what I thought would be impossible. And I feel like I'm seeing Nov. 2nd with new hope... can't wait for tonight!!
Des
2.04pm. Sitting at a Bob Evan's in Toledo, Ohio nursing a Bruce hangover with the Harvest Feast: three eggs (scrambled, extra well done), two buttermilk pancakes (topped with apples), three slices of bacon, a slice of ham and golden home fries. A tall glass of iced tea, refilled, for today's caffeine-induced needs. Twelve hours before it's all over, 24 hours before I get the chance to fully recover. This will be our "Almost Famous" moment, only one weekend of abandon and not caring, because three decades after the 1970s, it's too scary to let go completely.
On to Motown.
*****
October 4, 2004
Joan
Waiting to board my flight after realizing I've kept Des's wallet and notebook on hand. So... these items make the early AM haul to New York with me, then back with FedEx. I'm so incredibly tired. But the trips, concerts, loss of sleep were all totally worth it.
Another rousing performance in Motown -- not that we saw much beyond the basement of the Cobo Center. (Our 4pm arrival was alas too late, and we missed the pit lotto by a mere 10 people. Fat luck followed by chaos, then line after line waiting for someone to make sense of the multiple wristbands and numbers and rules and fanatics.) We eventually made it inside and an incredible two rows from the pit. Save for an obnoxious 40-something Bruce Willis wannabe who was gyrating like a moron and punching the air all night, the night was a repeat of phenomenal. Bright Eyes outdid themselves and REM wore its skin comfortably -- Michael settled into the performance almost immediately, and though I was disappointed not to hear more oldies, his "Leaving New York" was moving enough to bring up the performance.
Then Bruce, who stepped up with Des's pre-concert request, "Darkness." (Mine, "The River," came on last night!). Forgerty added his dose of excitement, "Mary's Place," "Born to Run," then too soon came the requisite ending. Tonight's crowd was more tightly packed, which made for a more rousing chorus of "people have the power." Dixie Chicks made their way from their concert across town with James Taylor (must've ended early!) to join in on last chorus. "Vote for Change!" ended the set -- again, this look of pride spreading across the audience and performers' faces. Really -- the concert could not be better. And I'm just so ecstatic to see how powerful Bruce's hold on an audience can be -- and so proud of how he's chosen to direct this gift. Could there be a better way? [Please excuse meanderings. It is so late it's early, and I'm still shocked we made it here without falling asleep at the wheel. Serious kudos to Des for driving like a pro.]
I'm excited we took the chance and braved 800+ miles for these concerts. I really feel like we were a part of something really true -- and again am seeing Nov. 2 in new light. I feel like these concerts really have made a difference and have recalled the musical movements of the '60s, when music effected so much emotion and compassion in everyday people. I wish I could do the spirit in the concert hall justice, because it was just miraculous. Suffice it to say I'd do it all over again -- despite the deafening fatigue and onset of a sore throat -- in less than a heartbeat.
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/desireekoh13/detail?.dir=5e99&.dnm=e24a.jpg
*****
October 7, 2004
Des
Woah. Four days after Detroit and the shows have left its mark on me -- yep, I have a cold. Two hours of sporadic sleep Sunday night (it was 4am by the time I rolled home after dropping Joan off at O'Hare) split by a 90-minute radio drop excursion downtown, the Target opening Tuesday night, has just left me worn, fatigued and begging for more (Bruce, that is). Take a knife and cut this pain from my heart.
Detroit was the better show for me because it was a smaller arena, fuller crowd, and standing close to the front of main floor section (it's like a human push-up bra), you could feel the energy surge through, compress and then explode in the kind of ecstasy only great rock & roll knows how to implode. We'll never know the joy of hiding under the blankets and listening to Alan Freed on the AM after lights out or when the most important thing in the whole world was heaven at the edge of the Pacific Ocean in a three-minute pop song. But just as people once sat in a large field in upstate New York watching rock & roll channel a powerful stream of consciousness, we stood there for a peripathetic revitalization. Perhaps it was the emotion of the weekend, maybe it was the lack of sleep, it's certainly the passion pounding from the stage, but I was moved during "Born to Run" and "People Have the Power." John Kerry -- let me vote, and you've got a friend.
Driving back, Elton John's "Your Song" came on the radio somewhere in Michigan. I love that scene in "Almost Famous" when "Tiny Dancer" trickles in to the morning after. It would have been too perfect if that had been recreated that middle of the night... instead, we got our own song because it was our time. And one day, when we're trying to figure out what happened to us while we were busy making other plans, there would be 45 hours that we could file under something we'd do under that giant Exxon sign.
Rest of the pictures: http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/desireekoh13/album?.dir=5e99&.src=ph&store=&prodid=&.done=http%3a//pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/desireekoh13/my_photos
Chicago -- October 1, 2004
Joan
Have landed in Chi-town an hour late and seen rain, rain and Wrigley Field. It's like Brooklyn, except for the losing baseball team. :) Anyway -- dinner at D'Agostinos (NOT, to my relief, the grocery store chain!) after chasing food across Wrigleyville and elsewhere. I am sleepy but excited -- we see Him in less than 24 hours!! Des is checking Backstreets for Philly's set list. It's looking pretty good. BUT this just in -- they're calling Him Mr. Scialfa on Backstreets, following some concert at the Roxy. Bad enough she has to ruin every rendition of every "Rising" song...
OK. It's late. We have an early start tomorrow. Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, cajun food, then the big push towards the pit, the Boss goils (heh) and night #1: Cleveland.
Des
There was no screen door slamming and Roy Orbison took the night off, but together with the pizza, D'agz proved itself one of the best parlours in the city once more when it served up a heartwarming jukebox rendition of "Thunder Road" together with our supremely thin crust mushroom and tomato pie. It's pretty official -- we're at the starting point of 850 miles of Bruce fever.
*****
A BP station in Indiana -- October 2, 2004
Des
9.12am, first gas stop. Joan fills the tank because she doesn't get to do it in Jersey.
Joan
AND -- save for mild credit card confusion, I have to say -- pulled it off seamlessly.
PS: INDIANA = SCARY. We've passed a field of refineries in Gary, then corn, then a car of antique men bearing Bush-Cheney stickers. We may have to deck Bruce (the car -- It and not Him) out in Kerry-Edwards paraphernalia just to counterbalance.
Listening to Giants Stadium (tour '03) concert. Patti is to the E Street Band like Indiana is to the greater USA.
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/desireekoh13/detail?.dir=5e99&.dnm=db97.jpg
Des
12.18pm. Stopped somewhere outside Toledo for gas and bathroom.
Joan
Fallen Timbers Service Plaza. Carnations in the ladies' room. Classy.
Des
Circa 2pm. Rolled into Cleveland. Checked out Fat Fish Blue, venue for dinner, then on to the Rock Hall. Fortune Corporate Battle of the Rock Bands contest going on, as well as a special Mary Wilson exhibit. Why? Don't know.
Rock Hall is just as I remembered it -- like some sort of a rock & roll frat house where everyone's memorabilia and paraphernalia from their jock strap days are displayed unabashedly. But to have an entire day there to read every scrap of handwritten songs on napkins, typewritten legal wrangles and pick-scratched guitars is better than being VH1 head honcho for the day. It's like a lifetime's worth of rock & roll in one visit, no college degree necessary. But rock & roll is bigger than all us of put together.
I was proud to see that many of the visitors were wearing Bruce shirts (in fact, it was easy to see later that most people at the show were there for Him, as the Bruuuucing began even before opening Bright Eyes took the stage). In this sometimes industrial, sometimes rural, a little bit commercial but always in the middle of nowhere Midwestern spot, Bruce is still, unarguably, everyone's hero.
Later on. Fat Fish Blue -- food was fantastic, but it's hard to not win over my gastronomical heart when you offer broiled crawdads. When Bruce wrote "Hungry Heart," this is really what he meant. I'll take this wrong turn and never go back.
After. The show -- sad to say, but all I wanted was for Bruce to take the stage. I felt bad for Bright Eyes (sounded good starting out but soon regressed to a slight hum above noisy ambience to me) and REM, but everyone knew who everyone had come to see. If Bruce shows are always passionate and energetic, think about when He's actually playing for a cause He believes in. If this was "Spinal Tap," we'd be turning the knob way up to "12." The finale with everyone on stage was rebel rousing -- even Bright Eyes looked like he was having fun (but everyone has fun with Bruce). What's so funny about Peace, Love and Understanding?
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/desireekoh13/detail?.dir=5e99&.dnm=7d45.jpg
*****
October 3, 2004
Joan
Bob Evans' Diner (post hash browns and postcard writing). Bruce has done it yet again -- totally astounded thousands and done the impossible. Concert last night was incredible, but we're about to head out toward Detroit, so I'll be bfe. Bright Eyes, tortured, angsty, and almost acidic demand for accountability. The kid'll go places, I think. All that intensity'll grow into something with real spirit -- maybe helped along by this series of concerts.
REM was a breath of fresh air. Michael Stipe is so gangly and animated and dapper in his white suit and marionnette dance moves. Wish they'd played more oldies to involve the crowd further, but was happy with what the band offered. Favorite moments: Michael standing on the front speaker, one hand pointing upwards, just waiting for the chords to die down. Then the long wait for Him: He who forbade "Broooocing" for the night's opening. (PS: I'm sighing as I write this).
Amazing opening included "The River" (!) and moved on to a house-party reminiscent Mary's Place... I could write forever about the set list, but don't have time (check Backstreets, silly!). John Fogery emerged energetic for some CCR... Michael Stipe for "Because the Night."
But the most phenomenal moment was the show's closing. Imagine a stage full of talented artistes covering the widest range of ages, talents and musical styles, leading an arena of thousands in this amazingly hopeful chorus of "Peace, Love and Understanding" and "People Have the Power" and really meaning it. Serious chills seeing this hope reflected on everyone's faces -- Bright Eyes, Michael Stipe and of course, Him -- as the arena resounded with an instrument-free chant/chorus of "the people have the power" over and over again. They've done what I thought would be impossible. And I feel like I'm seeing Nov. 2nd with new hope... can't wait for tonight!!
Des
2.04pm. Sitting at a Bob Evan's in Toledo, Ohio nursing a Bruce hangover with the Harvest Feast: three eggs (scrambled, extra well done), two buttermilk pancakes (topped with apples), three slices of bacon, a slice of ham and golden home fries. A tall glass of iced tea, refilled, for today's caffeine-induced needs. Twelve hours before it's all over, 24 hours before I get the chance to fully recover. This will be our "Almost Famous" moment, only one weekend of abandon and not caring, because three decades after the 1970s, it's too scary to let go completely.
On to Motown.
*****
October 4, 2004
Joan
Waiting to board my flight after realizing I've kept Des's wallet and notebook on hand. So... these items make the early AM haul to New York with me, then back with FedEx. I'm so incredibly tired. But the trips, concerts, loss of sleep were all totally worth it.
Another rousing performance in Motown -- not that we saw much beyond the basement of the Cobo Center. (Our 4pm arrival was alas too late, and we missed the pit lotto by a mere 10 people. Fat luck followed by chaos, then line after line waiting for someone to make sense of the multiple wristbands and numbers and rules and fanatics.) We eventually made it inside and an incredible two rows from the pit. Save for an obnoxious 40-something Bruce Willis wannabe who was gyrating like a moron and punching the air all night, the night was a repeat of phenomenal. Bright Eyes outdid themselves and REM wore its skin comfortably -- Michael settled into the performance almost immediately, and though I was disappointed not to hear more oldies, his "Leaving New York" was moving enough to bring up the performance.
Then Bruce, who stepped up with Des's pre-concert request, "Darkness." (Mine, "The River," came on last night!). Forgerty added his dose of excitement, "Mary's Place," "Born to Run," then too soon came the requisite ending. Tonight's crowd was more tightly packed, which made for a more rousing chorus of "people have the power." Dixie Chicks made their way from their concert across town with James Taylor (must've ended early!) to join in on last chorus. "Vote for Change!" ended the set -- again, this look of pride spreading across the audience and performers' faces. Really -- the concert could not be better. And I'm just so ecstatic to see how powerful Bruce's hold on an audience can be -- and so proud of how he's chosen to direct this gift. Could there be a better way? [Please excuse meanderings. It is so late it's early, and I'm still shocked we made it here without falling asleep at the wheel. Serious kudos to Des for driving like a pro.]
I'm excited we took the chance and braved 800+ miles for these concerts. I really feel like we were a part of something really true -- and again am seeing Nov. 2 in new light. I feel like these concerts really have made a difference and have recalled the musical movements of the '60s, when music effected so much emotion and compassion in everyday people. I wish I could do the spirit in the concert hall justice, because it was just miraculous. Suffice it to say I'd do it all over again -- despite the deafening fatigue and onset of a sore throat -- in less than a heartbeat.
http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/desireekoh13/detail?.dir=5e99&.dnm=e24a.jpg
*****
October 7, 2004
Des
Woah. Four days after Detroit and the shows have left its mark on me -- yep, I have a cold. Two hours of sporadic sleep Sunday night (it was 4am by the time I rolled home after dropping Joan off at O'Hare) split by a 90-minute radio drop excursion downtown, the Target opening Tuesday night, has just left me worn, fatigued and begging for more (Bruce, that is). Take a knife and cut this pain from my heart.
Detroit was the better show for me because it was a smaller arena, fuller crowd, and standing close to the front of main floor section (it's like a human push-up bra), you could feel the energy surge through, compress and then explode in the kind of ecstasy only great rock & roll knows how to implode. We'll never know the joy of hiding under the blankets and listening to Alan Freed on the AM after lights out or when the most important thing in the whole world was heaven at the edge of the Pacific Ocean in a three-minute pop song. But just as people once sat in a large field in upstate New York watching rock & roll channel a powerful stream of consciousness, we stood there for a peripathetic revitalization. Perhaps it was the emotion of the weekend, maybe it was the lack of sleep, it's certainly the passion pounding from the stage, but I was moved during "Born to Run" and "People Have the Power." John Kerry -- let me vote, and you've got a friend.
Driving back, Elton John's "Your Song" came on the radio somewhere in Michigan. I love that scene in "Almost Famous" when "Tiny Dancer" trickles in to the morning after. It would have been too perfect if that had been recreated that middle of the night... instead, we got our own song because it was our time. And one day, when we're trying to figure out what happened to us while we were busy making other plans, there would be 45 hours that we could file under something we'd do under that giant Exxon sign.
Rest of the pictures: http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/desireekoh13/album?.dir=5e99&.src=ph&store=&prodid=&.done=http%3a//pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/desireekoh13/my_photos
