Hooray for you, Mari Sasano.

This has to be the best idea ever.

The local Salvadorean community has been putting this thing on for 7 years, they say. It’s a nice way to get the Salvadoreans out together for a little music a lot of food. We went in the early afternoon, which I guess is not when most Salvadoreans plan on going, since attendance was still sparse. It was us and mostly a bunch of volunteer teenagers.

But in a little while, the ladies started making them and the grills really got going. What a delicious smell! A line-up started to grow at the pupusa stand. For $2.50 a pop (I ate two, plus an equally tasty tamale) it’s a bargain. The entertainment at that time of day was a kid doing karaoke, but I imagine things heat up later on.

There’s still time to make the 5 p.m. pupusa eating contest!

My little brother was obsessed with Transformers when he was a kid, so I had a fair share of exposure to the toys and the first animated movie. He used to play the soundtrack endlessly. Remember “The Touch”? I do. “You’ve got the touch! You’ve got the POW-AHH!”

Anyhow, I have to say that the new live action movie is awesomely terrible. Where does one start? The robots themselves, explosions, attempts at hipness, John Turturro in his underpants. All incredibly lame. But it all comes crashing down, Michael Bay-style, into something you can’t tear youself away from.

There’s the kid (Shia LeBeouf, AKA “I expected that guy to be a chick, based on his name”) and his rather over-mature object of desire played by Megan Fox, who is actually only 21. Too much makeup ages you. Remember this, ladies: flawless skin is weird, a smoky eye is only for evenings, and shiny lipgloss is cougar-y. Don’t do it.

Anyhow, the entire movie is basically a US Army recruitment tool, plus a cheerleader for the struggling American auto industry. After all, if you are a space robot who needs to choose a car to camouflage into, why not be a Pontiac Solstice? Gross.

And the dialogue! I love it. The first thing Megatron says when he is released from his icy tomb? “I AM MEGATRON!” It’s the whole problem with good VS evil again: evil is somewhat more entertaining, although there is a touching boy-and-his-space-robot relationship between the kid and Bumblebee, who tries to help him score with the ladies. Sweet.

I never have to see it again, but it sure was an enjoyable way to get out of the heat for a couple hours.

The White Stripes played a surprise free show at a rec centre in Beverly yesterday afternoon! Paul’s brother’s friend works there, so we got tipped off. We happened to be in the 118 St area moving Clinton into his house, so we figured nothing would be lost if we dropped in.

Totally worth it. We got there, a good number of people were already gathered around a little stage in the foyer of the skate park. A sound board was set up, and a guy in a black suit, red shirt, black tie and fedora hat with a red feather was manning it. So we knew it was the real deal.

There were kids there playing foosball, a few hipsters who managed to get down there on their Vespas, and lots of local kids who just wanted to be part of it. There were even a couple of rabid fans foaming at the mouth. It was a great, mixed crowd and everyone was excited. I stood on the pool table at the back and had a great view!

The staff were ushering the kids to the front, which was so nice. No one is that nice at a licensed show. They should have little kids at all shows, it would really improve the attitude.

Anyhow, they played about four songs and whoosh! Gone. Fun!

It’s definitely aimed at Americans, but boy, does this documentary make me scared.

I’ve always known that medical insurance was as crooked a business as it can get. Blue Cross is expensive and doesn’t cover everything I need. It’s so obviously about making money, but they keep pretending that they care.

I complain about this, but in America I’d be completely screwed. Thinking over the last year, I’ve had to see my doctor for my yearly exam, strep throat, a sprained ankle, and possibly next week for a jaw/ear ache if it doesn’t get better. If I need to, there are places where I can get free birth control. Sure sometimes I wait a long time. But at least I get seen, and I don’t have to pay for it.

Moore might be biased, but I doubt he’s had to twist the facts all that much, from what I know. It’s a nightmare. Thankfully, I’m usually healthy, but I’d still be nickeled and dimed into debt. England, France, Canada and Cuba are given as alternatives, and despite the problems in our system, suddenly I felt like the principle of free universal health care was something worth fighting for.

It’s not enough to be smug about our superior system. It’s flawed, for sure: by being paid by the procedure, a lot of patients aren’t given a lot of time from their physicians, plus there should be way more emphasis on preventative medicine. A free prescription program (like in England) wouldn’t hurt, either. But it should be accessible and free.

We’re all looking for a chance to make a difference, even if it’s only to take care of ourselves and our families. How can we do that when we’re not healthy? How can we be a part of the workforce, pay taxes and contribute to our communities when we’re not physically able to?

I wouldn’t be able to freelance if I was on the hook for my own medical costs. I would have to work for a big corporation in order to have insurance. That would be the safe thing to do. And I’m sure there are those who are talented and driven who don’t end up doing the great things they might be capable of because they’re scared. Is that freedom? Does that encourage entrepreneurship?

Talk about a reality check.

It’s one of the River City Festival shows this year. And it’s bonkers: Two Gentlemen of Verona, done as a musical, by the guy who made Hair. How could it be good?

Well, it’s not. Which is not to say that we weren’t totally mesmerized by it. It’s appallingly great. The songs are written as though by some stoner making up lyrics based on what he sees walking down the street. There’s one that compares a woman’s love to rent-controlled apartments. There’s one called “Don’t Have the Baby.” They’re all hippies.

And the plot, which to be fair is not the fault of the modern adaptation but rests squarely on the Bard, is questionable. Why does Julia continue to remain in her disguise even though Proteus has already revealed himself as someone not worth being faithful to? Why doesn’t she just come out and say, “Proteus? Hello? I’m standing right here!” Why are we supposed to accept their reunion as a happy ending? Or are we?

It’s so bad it’s funny. But the cast really SELLS it. And that’s what makes it even funnier.