Saturday spottings (wet ones)

Winter rain, pretty much by definition, is colder than any other rain you're likely to encounter, but it has one saving grace: so long as it's falling, you have no snow issues. And yes, there were occasional snowflakes in the mix this afternoon, but they were a distinct (not to say "white") minority. Besides, this is the most rain we've had in weeks; since the first official day of fall there has been less than an inch and a half, not to mention a smidgen of snow that melted down to Barely Damp.

I spent some of the day up in Edmond, to sample some of that soul-sucking conformity that, we are told, characterizes American suburbia, and it occurred to me somewhere west of Bryant on Second that it was the traffic, not the conformity, that was most likely to let the air out of one's soul. There are, nonetheless, a couple of things about Edmond (but only a couple) that bug me: too many streets called Oak Something or Something Oak, and too many houses with that fake-stucco stuff, which is to homebuilding what polyester is to wardrobes. (This latter, of course, is hardly unique to Edmond.)

The main reason I was there, though, I've already told you about: to snag a copy of the new David Kent thriller, The Blackjack Conspiracy, preferably while Kent was on hand to sign it. I did catch him offguard with one of my patented irrelevant questions: "So how long before you lose the radio voice?"

He blinked for a moment, then smiled and said: "It took me years to get it; it may take just as long to lose it."

Bookstores, of course, love these little signing parties, if only because they tend to attract characters like me who have never once left a bookstore carrying only one book. (Today: four books, $70.) And it's always nice to have something to read while it's raining — or worse — outside.

Posted at 4:26 PM to City Scene