Excessive Consumption – Day 3

Yesterday we finally got a day to stay home but that didn’t mean the partying stopped.   It was a fairly scraggly group that assembled for breakfast but they lost one of their vigor for continuing our role of Thanksgiving weekend good times.  My son and ABFA had to take their road show north to New Hampshire to help celebrate the 30^th birthday of one of the ABFA’s closest friends.  Those left behind had the bittersweet task of a bon voyage party for my daughter and Wing Man who’s California adventure commences later this week.

The Scraggly Breakfast Scene

I found myself looking at both of them all day and savoring the time we have now, understanding that California residence will have a severe impact on our ability to spend time together.  My wife went completely nuts preparing a meal for the ages that included prime rib, spaghetti squash and various and other sundry delicacies.

The Party Kicks off With Return of Keene Friend and the Rhode Islanders

The Keene Friend departed early in the morning but returned all the way from Keene for the party and the ABFA’s parents traveled down as well to help us send the soon to be Californians out in style.  The entire Rhode Island contingent from Day 2 celebrations pulled up stakes and showed up at our door as the sun was setting.  It was a great group and testimony to how well thought of the departing pair is.  Buddy was in seventh heaven with my sister and Keene Friend in residence – begging targets 1 and 1A. 

The Future Californians

An immense amount of adult beverage was sacrificed along with the meal as important college football games invariably led some of us astray to the family room.  It was an evening of fun and reminiscing but every time I looked at my daughter and Wing Man I knew our lives were changing and while I’m very happy for them I couldn’t help feeling a sense of loss. I’m going to miss them something crazy.

Seated Next to Sister and Brother In Law

The late arrival of Keene Friend 2 cemented the group as we dove into a homemade ice cream cake and possibly the tastiest chocolate pie the world has ever seen.  The end of the night came entirely too early as everybody had a goodly distance to drive home.  I ended the night on the couch with my soon to be distant “kids” and tried unsuccessfully to watch the end of a college football game with them.  I’m glad they leave for the left coast knowing just how well loved they are in the east.

This Type Photo Will Not Be as Easy in Future - Really Going to Miss Them

Some Other Great Friends from Rhode Island Showed Up With Their Ice Cream Cake!

In some of the quiet time before the party kicked off I finished off the next in my Travis McGee revisit with A Tan and Sandy Silence.  This marks 2/3 of the way through the seminal John D. MacDonald series.   This book finds Trav trying to reconcile whether he should take up an offer to become a live in boyfriend to well off lady friend when the husband of another former “friend” tries to shoot him.  This leads him into a search for that former friend.  He ends up down in the Caribbean Islands where he encounters a truly evil sociopath as well as a yacht crewed by beautiful naked women (this is McGee we’re talking about).  The bad guys are developers (again) and both McGee and Meyers are truly tested in a harrowing finale.

Some words from A Tan and Sandy Silence as McGee contemplates the issue of taking up the position of a kept man for his rich girlfriend:  “A lot of the good ones get away.  They want to impose structure upon my unstructured habits.  It doesn’t work.  If I wanted structure, I’d live in a house with a Florida room, two cars, have 2.7 kids, a dog, a cat, a smiling wife, a viable retirement and profit sharing plan, a seven handicap, and shortness of breath.”

Turkey Day Take 2

Yesterday saw the second main event of what has become our traditional Thanksgiving Day celebration.  My sister went into the family business of nursing so she’s usually working on the Thursday holiday but free on Friday.  This has evolved over the past decade to a second full Thanksgiving dinner at her house followed by an extremely entertaining party with her in laws.

We started the day out with breakfast (more of a brunch) at the local Cracker Barrel before splitting up.  My wife claimed the right to go shopping while I tagged along with the “kids” to see the new Hunger Games movie – Mockingjay: Catching Fire, Part 1.  This takes the Katniss Everdeen story beyond the games into the full fledged rebellion her actions generated.  This is an obvious transition movie to get all the pieces in place for the final confrontation.  There’s not as much action and we spend a lot of time watching Jenifer Lawrence emote about the unfairness of her choices.  Luckily she’s such a great actress that’s not a bad fate for any movie goer but overall the movie was pretty depressing.  Now we’re forced to wait another whole year so the movie makers can wring the last possible dollar out of the franchise instead of delivering a satisfying movie.

We returned home to find my wife busily preparing for the day three of Thanksgiving which will be hosted at our house.  After some empanada construction the Keene Friend showed up to assume his senatorial duties in Rhode Island.

Buddy Lurking Near the turkey Carving

Since we had to take two cars down to Rhode Island Buddy was once again able to travel with us.  Keene Friend and I chauffeured the Wonder Pooch who seemed rather sanguine about the whole affair.  That is until we arrived at my sister’s house and he immediately began circling my sister’s turkey like a shark.  My first official duties are to carve the turkey which was easier this year since my sister remembered to remove the giblets bag before cooking (three years in a row and counting).    

Pit Bull Puppy Inspected by Buddy and Bailey

As I finished the carving my wife was trying to play Solomon on a piece of turkey skin to be shared between Buddy and my sister’s dog, Bailey.  She was holding the pieces up and declaring that I had cut unequal pieces when a black head slowly rose at her side like a great white rising on an unsuspecting seal.  Buddy’s head turned and the argument was solved with finality for my shocked wife.  The entire room erupted in laughter at Buddy’s stealth kill.

The food was the customarily tasty and was followed by some intriguing desserts.  In honor of the ABFA there was serious investment in chocolate.  There was a truffle that might have been a trifle but we did not trifle with it at all.  Post dinner conversation invariabley led to the lack of grandchildren as the ABFA was firmly brought into the discussion by my wife.  My daughter looked on with glee as she could now share this stage in the annual discussion with her new sister in law.  The ABFA quickly filled up her wine glass in the face of the relentless mother in law suggestions.

The ABFA Following the Grandchild Discussion

The house soon began to fill with the assorted member of my sister’s fantastic in laws and my nephew’s crew.  The crew also brought a pit bull puppy who made its evening mission to mess with Buddy.  Buddy did not appreciate the new found adulation as it distracted from his ever present need to beg food from clients who became more generous as the evening and alcohol consumption drew on.  Buddy even managed to escape from the impregnable bastion of my sister’s back yard a couple times before we figured out he’d worked his way through the garage.  Luckily there was enough food available that he merely walked around to the front door instead of exploring the greater Cranston area.

WingMan at the Table of Plenty

My brother in law’s arrival home from work completed what I refer to as the Table Gang.  One of the best times I have all year (and let’s face it – I have a lot of fun annually) is sitting around that table each year telling jokes and trying to convince a certain malevolent spirit (my sister’s sister in law) to not conjure against the Red Sox again.  She was easily distracted this year trying to convince a skeptical friend I looked like Don Draper when I had a certain hat on (did I mention a lot of adult beverage was sent down range?). 

Daughter and ABFA

After what seemed like an all too short time we were approaching midnight and the time to go.  Before that happened though my sister and daughter were dancing for some reason that will be lost to the annals of history.  The Keene Friend drove Buddy and I home while my son drove a very energetic set of ladies.  The Wing Man bore witness to the hour long drive through the cold night as my son (who for some reason wants to be called “Chopped Liver” in this blog) bore up against a formidable tag team of his sister, the ABFA, and his mother.  They were still laughing about it when the Keene Friend and I arrived.  Too….much….fun. 

My Son (Chopped Liver) Steeling Himself to Drive These Ladies Home

My Sister and Daughter in Full Dance Mode

The Table Gang

Cousin Time

The Back Yard Yesterday

The Wednesday weather more than validated the painful yet ultimately rewarding decision for Tuesday night travel to NYC and back.  Getting up for work was a little painful but I only had a half day and got home just as the snow started to fly.  We were right on the snow-rain line all day and into the night.  It would snow, sleet, rain, and then switch back and forth in an almost choreographed routine.  Buddy was not pleased with all the weird sounds buffeting the house.  I’m just glad I wasn’t trying to negotiate the roads. 

Buddy Trying to Convince me to Take Him Along

We ended up getting around 8 inches of snow from the storm that lasted into the wee hours of Thursday but it was compacted by the intermittent rain.  I nervously waited for the snow blower to turn over for the first time since March but after an extremely pregnant pause it coughed to life.  Since the snow was so heavy it took longer than I anticipated to get the driveway cleaned up but it also allowed time for my wife to complete the sweet potato peeling that was ostensibly a joint project.

The Drive North

After a hurried breakfast everybody rose to the occasion of departure time.  This is Buddy’s favorite day of the year because he usually travels with us to New Hampshire and spends the day running through the woods and fields with his cousin dogs.  That wasn’t happening yesterday because we were restricted to the smaller car due to my issues with backing up.  We bribed him with a huge bone and I don’t think he even noticed when we left.

Elder Table

The drive was beautiful since all trees were coated with the blowing snow.  It was like travelling through a confectionery's world gone mad.  As we travelled north we encountered more and more snow and an equivalent number of electric company trucks trying to restore power.  I was a little nervous since the annual gathering place for my father’s family Thanksgiving is nothing if not remote.   We arrived to a well-lit house though even with well over a foot of snow on the ground.

Middle Table

This is also one of my favorite days of the year as it is usually the only time annually that I get to hang out with my cousins from my father’s remarkable family.  The operative phrase here is “There’s just something special about cousins!”  There’s no awkward pause to reacquaint ourselves, just an immediate immersion into a warm group of people who were lucky enough to share a blood line.  An added treat was the presence of my son and the ABFA who were attending this year.

The Young'Uns 

There’s an almost breathless attempt to catch up with everyone while at the same time setting up tables, silverware, and dodging the inevitable, signature pack of dogs (sorry Buddy).  We were down to three tables which traditionally associate by age groups.  The youngest table quickly established themselves near the television showing the football games while I dug in on the middle table firmly resisting a move to the older table despite the increasing gray aloft.

Wife and I Sneak into Young Table

There was no way the traditional family football game was taking place because of the snow.  One of my cousins and I remembered shoveling off a football field when we were teenagers but there was a significant lack of the age group available to motivate.  I don’t know how many more of these I have left so I was a little disappointed.  However there was an attendant benefit to the cancelled game as more time was availble to sit around the table and cousin converse.  I always leave these celebrations wishing there had been more time to talk and yesterday that was afforded.  One of my cousin’s daughters is dipping her toe into the transit world so there was some shared angst about the inevitable governmental pitfalls involved.  Another cousin has written a book about the carriage house and ancient mill he has restored in West Virginia.  I did miss the game though.  I was anxious to see the ABFA in action pitted against my son.  He claims he’s sad there was no game but those might be crocodile tears.

The Rare Sighting of my Daughter Washing Dishes

Once the sun set the crowd started to disperse and we reluctantly made our way back south, trailed by our son and the ABFA who will be coming with us today to my sister’s second Thanksgiving.  The rest of the night was spent monitoring football scores and watching a movie selected by the ABFA. 

I Think Your Mother is Taking a Picture of You for Some reason

The day redeemed exactly what was expected – the all too rare opportunity to share time with family and friends which is really what Thanksgiving is supposed to be.  I know I’m thankful for the cousins I’m blessed with.

End of the Night - Buddy Herding us Back onto the Couch

Happy Thanksgiving!

No blog today - I'm going to be doing what you should be doing - spending time with family and friends and giving thanks for all I'm blessed with.  Get off the internet and do the same!

Late Night Solitary Roads Redeemed

Excuse me if this seems a little punch drunk because I’m operating on a bit of sleep deprivation.  It’s telling that I’ve been out of the Army for nearly a decade now and this used to be much easier because I was called upon to do it more regularly.  In my infinite wisdom I volunteered to drive down to New York City last night to police up my daughter and Wing Man after work so we could avoid today’s snowstorm.  They were packing out their California bound possessions so I knew they would be exhausted.

My wife, Connecticut, and New York all tag-teamed me to make this a little more difficult than anticipated.  Since I had to use my car (my idiocy keeping the other one in the repair shop) I had to rely on my I-Phone for GPS directions.  My plan was to charge the phone when I got home from work and then set out with a fully charged GPS device.  This is where my wife entered the fray.  She’d delayed her own Thanksgiving shopping session until late in the day and thought it would be a good idea to borrow my charger.  This was not a morale boost (see later how she totally redeemed herself).

So I set out for New York City around 4:30pm and immediately ran into massive traffic.  Apparently a couple million other people had the same idea about avoiding the certain traffic woes to be encountered today and created the exact same thing they hoped to avoid.  I shouldn’t complain because I was part of the problem.  My cell phone lasted until half way through my beloved Connecticut before dying a painful death. 

Luckily I’m from an earlier generation that doesn’t have to depend on the GPS.  Like any good infantry officer I had done a thorough map recon of my route through New York City to reach my daughter’s apartment.  The most surprising thing was I retained enough to successfully access the information when needed.  After more than 4 hours of being pummeled by incredibly slow traffic I arrived at the Whitestone Bridge toll booths where my EZ-pass failed to work.  My wife had drained the account with her Maine adventure and the credit card on file had expired.  One of New York’s finest approached the car and after inspecting the device directed me to a side where I could pay him in cash.  The only upside was the car directly behind me.  He had unsuccessfully tried to cut me off while waiting in line with his van liberally festooned with New York Yankee stickers.  He was forced to wait while I was processed (silver lining).   

Sadly Empty Apartment

I then found myself wandering through the streets of Brooklyn and realized I had missed the turn to my daughter’s apartment (thank God for the map recon).  I made a couple of turns and was soon parked outside her apartment, just after 9pm.  The only problem being I could not remember her apartment number and the ole cell phone was still dead (a Francisco Franco moment).  I knew it was on the 4^th floor so I started pushing buttons until someone buzzed me in.  When I told Wing Man about this, he laughed and said – “Oh you’re one of THOSE GUYS!”.  I am given to believe I may have injured my status in the New York City society by my actions.  I could care less (Red Sox Rule!) as I was finally at my daughter’s achingly empty apartment.

Anything to Spend time with These Guys!!

Wing Man was not around as he was making the last run with the U-Haul after absolutely stuffing the California bound pods.  We made some final arrangements and got on the road around 11:45pm.  I was steeling myself for another bout of the worst New York and Connecticut could throw at me because during the drive down the northbound side looked even worse than my own lethargic situation heading south.  However it failed to materialize – we flew home.  In addition, I now had a co-pilot expertly manning her I-Phone and providing sparkling conversation. The Wing Man was completely gassed by his exertions of moving a couple tons of boxes and sundry possessions all day. 

I worried a little that consciousness might be a problem but that’s where the sparkling conversationalist came in.  She plugged in a podcast (whatever the hell that is) called “Serial” that’s she been listening to.  It was fascinating.  It involves a reporter looking into the murder conviction of a young Pakistani guy that happened back in the late 1990’s.  We would listen and then discussed the case the whole way back (well that and the odd rest stop for middle aged bladders).  I got a firm promise that she would tell me how the case comes out. 

Well, ALLRIGHT!!!!

We arrived back home right at 2am so the trip back took two complete hours less than the trip south had (that’s how bad the traffic was).  Now comes the redemption phase for my wife.  Since my daughter and Wing Man won’t be with us for Christmas this year my wife spent the time I was driving by making my daughter’s favorite Christmas cookies (all was immediately forgiven).  A very long evening but those 2+ hours with my daughter were worth more than I can ever remunerate.  That did not make getting up for work at 6am any easier – well I guess it did because I didn’t regret the decision to go, whatsoever.

I’m sure everyone has been victimized by the tidal wave of information regarding the Michael Brown decision, including my poor attempt yesterday.  A friend posted the following on Facebook today.  It originated from a black NFL player and was one of the most insightful compilations of the event that I’ve seen:

“Benjamin Watson

At some point while I was playing or preparing to play Monday Night Football, the news broke about the Ferguson Decision. After trying to figure out how I felt, I decided to write it down. Here are my thoughts:

I'M ANGRY because the stories of injustice that have been passed down for generations seem to be continuing before our very eyes.

I'M FRUSTRATED, because pop culture, music and movies glorify these types of police citizen altercations and promote an invincible attitude that continues to get young men killed in real life, away from safety movie sets and music studios.

I'M FEARFUL because in the back of my mind I know that although I'm a law abiding citizen I could still be looked upon as a "threat" to those who don't know me. So I will continue to have to go the extra mile to earn the benefit of the doubt.

I'M EMBARRASSED because the looting, violent protests, and law breaking only confirm, and in the minds of many, validate, the stereotypes and thus the inferior treatment.

I'M SAD, because another young life was lost from his family, the racial divide has widened, a community is in shambles, accusations, insensitivity hurt and hatred are boiling over, and we may never know the truth about what happened that day.

I'M SYMPATHETIC, because I wasn't there so I don't know exactly what happened. Maybe Darren Wilson acted within his rights and duty as an officer of the law and killed Michael Brown in self defense like any of us would in the circumstance. Now he has to fear the backlash against himself and his loved ones when he was only doing his job. What a horrible thing to endure. OR maybe he provoked Michael and ignited the series of events that led to him eventually murdering the young man to prove a point.

I'M OFFENDED, because of the insulting comments I've seen that are not only insensitive but dismissive to the painful experiences of others.

I'M CONFUSED, because I don't know why it's so hard to obey a policeman. You will not win!!! And I don't know why some policeman abuse their power. Power is a responsibility, not a weapon to brandish and lord over the populace.

I'M INTROSPECTIVE, because sometimes I want to take "our" side without looking at the facts in situations like these. Sometimes I feel like it's us against them. Sometimes I'm just as prejudiced as people I point fingers at. And that's not right. How can I look at white skin and make assumptions but not want assumptions made about me? That's not right.

I'M HOPELESS, because I've lived long enough to expect things like this to continue to happen. I'm not surprised and at some point my little children are going to inherit the weight of being a minority and all that it entails.

I'M HOPEFUL, because I know that while we still have race issues in America, we enjoy a much different normal than those of our parents and grandparents. I see it in my personal relationships with teammates, friends and mentors. And it's a beautiful thing.

 I'M ENCOURAGED, because ultimately the problem is not a SKIN problem, it is a SIN problem. SIN is the reason we rebel against authority. SIN is the reason we abuse our authority. SIN is the reason we are racist, prejudiced and lie to cover for our own. SIN is the reason we riot, loot and burn. BUT I'M ENCOURAGED because God has provided a solution for sin through the his son Jesus and with it, a transformed heart and mind. One that's capable of looking past the outward and seeing what's truly important in every human being. The cure for the Michael Brown, Trayvon Martin, Tamir Rice and Eric Garner tragedies is not education or exposure. It's the Gospel. So, finally, I'M ENCOURAGED because the Gospel gives mankind hope.”

Now I’m going to go get some sleep.

Late Night Fires

Holiday Season Officially Kicked Off at Home with the Wife's Nativity Scene

Some holiday planning went awry yesterday when the full knowledge of the impending Wednesday snow storm was unveiled.  Wednesday before Thanksgiving is bad enough but when you throw 8” on snow on the roads with all the flatlanders from down south trying to travel through the area a recipe for disaster is born.  For that reason I’m driving down to New York City after work today to retrieve my daughter and Wing Man.  It’ll make for a long night but it’s almost nostalgic from a military career with many a late night spent driving across the country to be with loved ones over the holidays.  Today is also the day Wing Man will be packing all their earthly belongings into some California bound pods – so they deserve a break.  Luckily they’re both excellent company to keep me awake for the trip back.

My Wife's Stand In and Hard to Start Ride

Another factor for the decision was the lack of a four wheel drive vehicle tomorrow.  I turned in the evidence of my compete idiocy to the body shop yesterday and it’s supposed to be ready late tomorrow.  They gave me a small red Corolla to bide me over.  I’ve already received a complaint from the spousal unit who couldn’t figure out how to start the rental (2 years with keyless system will do that to you).  She’s used to the much larger damaged Highlander.  She says I’m going to have to keep working because she needs the big car.

The Ferguson decision not to prosecute the police officer came out last night.  The crowd ignored the Michael Brown’s family’s request to protest non-violently and used the excuse to burn part of the town down.  Race relations in the US have come a long way but there still needs to be more dialogue.  Exposing racism to the light of day always causes it to wither and die because it just doesn’t make sense.  Obviously there was a significant undercurrent of problems in Ferguson before Brown’s fateful day with the police.  His death served as a focal point for those undercurrents.  My hope is that once the rage has spent itself and the perpetrators of those crimes are prosecuted there can be an honest dialogue.

The family decries the evidence presented about Brown’s actions on that day as trying to assassinate his “character”, as if his actions had nothing to do with his death.  I can fully understand a family’s anguish at the loss of their son but I’m trying to look at it objectively which only the passage of time will permit for others.  Brown is portrayed as a “child” but he was in fact a very imposing physical specimen who’d already committed a strong armed robbery shortly before his death.  He was obviously “childlike” in his belief his size and “angry young man” attitude granted him thug like appeasement from the rest of society. 

There are many other, much more suspicious police involved shootings that the agitators (including the activist in chief) could and should have chosen to highlight the very real problem of police involved shootings. This was not the one to do it with so the important discussion is pushed further down the road by the violence the agitators fomented and then lauded.  I’ve included a summary of the testimony provided by Officer Wilson which combined with the other evidence provided was enough for twelve people from Ferguson to make the decision they did.  Judge for yourself:

“The evidence was released by the St. Louis County prosecutor Monday evening after the grand jury declined to indict Wilson.   Wilson said he had heard that someone had stolen cigarillos from the nearby Ferguson Market just before he saw two young men walking in the middle of the street, disrupting traffic.  He said that after he asked the two to move onto the sidewalk, one said, "F*** what you have to say," as they passed him. "When he said that, it drew my attention totally to Brown," he said. "It was a very unusual and not expected response from a simple request."  Then he noticed that Brown was carrying packages of cigarillos, which had been reported stolen, he said. He called for backup and then backed up his car to cut them off, he said. When he started to open the door and called to Brown, the young man responded: "What the f*** are you gonna do?" he said.  The officer told investigators that when he tried to open the door, Brown slammed it shut. "He was just staring at me, almost like to intimidate me or to overpower me," Wilson said. "The intense face he has was just not what I expected." Wilson said he tried to open his door again, telling Brown to "get the f*** back," but Brown grabbed the door and slammed it, then ducked his head inside the open window. "I don't remember seeing him come at me, but I was hit right here in the side of the face with a fist," Wilson said. "I think it was a full-on swing, but not a full shot."  When Brown turned to give the cigarillos he was carrying in his left hand to the other young man, Wilson tried to grab his right "to get out, to have some type of control and not be trapped in my car anymore," he said.  "And when I grabbed him, the only way I can describe it is I felt like a 5-year-old holding onto Hulk Hogan," he said.  As the two struggled, with Wilson seated inside the car and Brown leaning in through the open window, he tried to get his mace canister but couldn't reach it, according to the officer's account.  "I thought I was already compromised enough. I drew my firearm, I pointed at him," Wilson said. He said that when he warned Brown he was going to shoot him and told him to get on the ground, the teen grabbed the gun and said "You are too much of a p***y to shoot me." "When he grabbed my gun, he twisted it, pointed at me and into my hip pelvic area," he said. "I know his hand was around my trigger finger which was inside the trigger guard, and when he grabbed it he pushed it down and angled it to where it was like this in my hip," Wilson said. "I was guaranteed he was going to shoot me."  Brown had "completely overpowered" him, Wilson said, but he was able to twist the gun around and get a shot off, and then another, but he didn't know what he had hit. "It was a, just one of these to get him off me," Wilson said.  He said he radioed for more patrol cars, then yelled for Brown, who was running then, to stop and get on the ground.  Brown stopped, but he didn't get down, Wilson said.  "When he stopped, he turned, looked at me, made like a grunting noise and had the most intense aggressive face I've ever seen on a person," Wilson said. “

Catching Up

Yesterday was spent in heavy dancing date recovery operations as middle aged bodies are not designed to withstand the kinds of stresses a night out dancing with my wife calls for.  Even she was a little circumspect about physical activity yesterday.  The incredibly fickle New England weather is up to its usual seasonal hi-jinks.  Yesterday was almost balmy, today we’re getting a monsoon like downpour and Wednesday we supposed to get six inches of snow.  I don’t think I’m being a habitual complainer if I think this is a bit much (at least I don’t live in Buffalo – gotta keep telling myself that).

Yesterday my wife and I were matched up against the only team we had not beaten in fantasy football – the dreaded ABFA.  She got out to an early lead before we caught and drummed her into the ground.  We have a thirty point lead going into tonight’s game with two players left to play to her one.  My wife, of course, felt bad for the ABFA.  I’m not sure she grasps the whole concept yet.

Someone who does grab the concept of football are the Patriots who once again delivered a stern beating to a Detroit team that came in boasting the league’s best defense.  The game was over by half time as Brady picked apart the vaunted defense using his entire quiver of weapons.  The Lions were a hard hitting bunch which I’m sure caused prior opponents to wilt but the Patriots seem to revel in that kind of game.

Men Against Boys

I ended the night watching the Giants and Cowboys game and saw the best catch I’ve ever seen in any kind of football game.  A defensive player was mauling a young Giants receiver who shook him off, bent over backwards and made an impossible one handed catch for a touchdown.  I was watching live and even the announcers were stunned.  They called the pass interference but then said, “Wait a minute – I think he caught it!”  It was one of those moments that make watching sports worthwhile. 

The Catch - “Wait a minute – I think he caught it!”

Of course it will be over exposed over the upcoming days as we’re forced to relive it over and over and learn what the young guy’s shoe size is. I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t have his own reality show by the end of the week.  Seeing it when it happened though was a pure moment though.  I’m just surprised, since it was a Giants receiver, that it wasn’t done against the Patriots to cost them a Super bowl. 

Also in NYC the Curbside Gals were Bacheloretting One of Their Own
My Daughter (far Right) Took Time Out off Packing to Enjoy

Old and New Illusions

A fairly quiet day yesterday until I was savagely thrust into the role of partner to the dancing queen I’m blessed to be married to; more on that later.  The frigid Saturday also saw the last ride of the season on the lawn tractor as the pesky leaves that withstood the gale force winds of the past week were mowered up and assigned to their resting place in the rear wood line. My wife opined that I made quite a sight as I motored around the yard in full winter gear.

Old Friends

I warmed up back in the house with some college football and a fun visit with some old television friends.  The Keene Friend gave me the complete original Addams Family television series.  I remember watching this on Friday nights growing up and it’s still pretty funny although it has to have the most annoying laugh track in television history.  Our son called with some remarkable work news as well that completed the warm up.  More will be divulged on that in subsequent days.

I also caught a documentary on Lance Armstrong called Stop at Nothing.  It was a fascinating look at the disgraced icon who is fully exposed as almost completely evil, destroying people’s lives to hide the truth about his cheating.  It’s an insightful look into society’s need for heroes and the lengths the media will go to force a good news story on us; even if the facts don’t fit the convenient story.  It’s a withering statement on the idiocy of treating celebrities as modern day godlike figures. 

Maxwell's

Now to that whole dancing thing, I was so happy to have her back home from her Maine sojourn that I readily acquiesced to one of our Maxwell Silverman’s dancing evenings.  I failed to properly monitor departure time though as she went through a nearly three hour decision process on what was appropriate attire.  It was nearly 9:30pm by the time we arrived.  We had our usual good time with the eclectic crowd of the middle aged, the lonely, a couple octogenarians, and the odd bachelorette party.  We stayed until 1am which becomes problematic as a younger, rougher crowd shows up around midnight. 

It seems one of the new trends in youthful exuberance is to stand around the fringe of the dance floor with drinks to talk and profile.  It’s usually behavior you see as people crowd around a bar but the bar was almost deserted as these bozos blocked access to the dance floor and acted like this was normal.  My wife dominated on the dance floor despite this as I was again assumed my usual role as training aide trying to keep up with her.  A fun night.

Spousal Return Operations

I spent part of the day yesterday monitoring my wife’s triumphant return from the wilds of Northern Maine.  After conquering her fears of long distance solo driving she was typically upbeat about the adulation sent her way.  I was required to call her hourly as she made steady progress south and even pulled the standard New Hampshire tourist tactic of stopping by the conveniently located state liquor store (it’s how you know you’ve entered the granite state).  After laying in some supplies for Thanksgiving she expertly negotiated the final miles to a boisterous welcome home from the Wonder Pooch.

The Long Driver Returned - At Zorba's Last Night

Since my excellent boss spent some extended hours with the political leadership this week he was sorely in need of the medical effects offered by our First Friday celebrations.  He’s caught in the middle between the politicos and the union as the construction of our new facility is underway.  The environmental cleanup of the new location is steadily eating into the construction budget and the union is protesting as more and more of the promised facilities are taken away in response.  A steady stream of his favorite adult beverages delivered by the always superb Brew City staff helped drown out the leftover bad taste.

One I got her off the telephone (four days’ worth of catching up, don’t you know) I vied with Buddy for welcoming home my wife.  We adjourned to Zorba’s where I received a blow by blow account of her entire week.  As I sat there listening I realized (again) how much I had missed her vital company.  It’s weird that the longer this marriage goes the higher the co-dependency rises.  All I know is that I’m happy to have her back.  Happy enough that there may be some dancing in my immediate future, if she has her way (not long odds there).

Yet another Travis McGee novel fell yesterday when I finished The Long Lavender Look.  I’m on the downslope of my return to the magical 1960-70 world of John D. Macdonald but the books continue to amaze at how well they’ve stood the test of time.  Trav and Meyer are speeding down a late night Everglades highway when they’re forced off the road to avoid hitting a woman.  They’re shortly arrested for murder by the local sheriff.  The book has McGee slowly digging into the mystery he was charged with and inevitably linking up with dangerous villains and tragic women.  This book was a welcome return to McGee’s natural environment of Florida with the vivid descriptions only MacDonald did so well.

Per usual the words are what made the book so entertaining.  Here’s McGee near the end of the book bemoaning the cost of his recently concluded adventure, the warrior poet at his best:  “Something was going wrong and it went further wrong. I don’t know.  I lost it, somehow, without knowing what I lost.  Some kind of . . . sense of light and motion and purpose.  I went ragged around the edges and bleak in the middle. The world seems to be coarsening, and me with it.  Everything that happens takes away, and less flows back.  And I respond less, and in the wrong way.  I still amuse myself but there’s some contempt in it now.  I don’t know. . .  I don’t know.”