Better Late Than Never, But Never Better Late

There's a reason we refer to ourself as "The Editor" most of the time, rather than as a "reporter." We're just made for sitting at a devil-box criticizing people for their own good, as opposed to doing anything, or working, or chasing down a story, or exerting any effort whatever concerning anything at all. Case in point: Last night's big deal Scott McClellan book-pimping "event" at the nearby Barnes & Ignoble, which we mentioned in this very space, & then stated we would attend, implying, at least some sort of informative report on Mr. McClellan's event. Well, we did, but even though we'd been sitting in the three-level chain bookstore for a good hour before reading pulp sci-fi from the '30s, we managed to be late to said event. Here's the criticism part: Because every single retail establishment on the Third Street Promenade (For those who don't know: the City of Santa Monica closed four blocks of, yes, its own Third Street to vehicular traffic, making an instant mall, w/ what passes for "upscale retail" in middle-class America having taken over what once were no doubt failing Mom-&-Pop businesses.) has closed its restrooms (Guess who they don't want using the facilities?) one must leave the Promenade & wander through an already piss-soaked alley to a City parking structure to answer nature's call. And by the time we'd returned from pre-event bathroom (Caused by a "venti" coffee @ the Starbucks inside the B&N to prevent our collapsing on our face during the "event") & nicotine breaks, the author reading room at B&N was jam-up & jelly-tight, & we were unable to get any nearer than two people away from the door. Which was fine while Mr. McClellan was speaking, but once question time started, we were unable to hear the questions, & Scott kept going off mic to answer them. So, in our dedication to duty, we just gave the hell up & went back to the Northwest Smith story collection we'd been perusing. Not that we'd expected to hear (let alone actually learn) anything new. And what we did hear of Puffy McMoonface's talk was the same old same old that's already been bandied about the webs, radio, dead-tree media, etc. I. e., who gives a shit, really? It should be obvious by now that we don't.