Illustrated by Jennifer.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
"You look like douchebags."
"Your dad and I are going to a Pretenders concert," I said. I was standing in E.'s family room talking to his teenaged son. "How are we supposed to dress?"
"Not like douchebags," said the boy.
"What do you think?" I asked his friend.
"You look fine," she said.
"See?" I said.
"That's the stupidest coat I've ever seen," he said.
"It's a leather jacket, for God's sake. What's wrong with it?"
"It's a leather jacket. It's supposed to be ancient."
He started humming under his breath. It took me a moment to catch the tune. Fat guy in a little coat.
"Pretty tough for someone who's afraid of a Huddle House," I said before going upstairs to find E. Time to go.
We had dinner before the concert, E. and I, with another guy, a mutual friend who's recently divorced. Duck salad and mussels and martinis. Grown up food and drinks.
Afterward we walked over to the venue, one of the good nightclubs in the country, maybe in the world. There was a warm up band and more drinks.
And the show? The sound was muddy, the song selection adequate. Did it make it onto my list of best concerts? Probably not.
But it was Chrissie Hynde singing "Chain Gang" in a little room filled with men and women wearing leather jackets that our kids hated. We toasted each other and if we weren't young, we weren't quite old either.
Posted by Snag at 8:50 PM
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Jennifer assigned me to find ten things I love beginning with the letter "U." It would have been easier with the letter "I'" but I'll give it a shot.
Ukuleles: Capable of producing amazingly complex music.
Ulan Bator: Things would be easier if my kids lived there.
Ulcer: Of course I have one.
Umlauts: Make anything scarier.
Uncontrollable: I've got one.
Undead: Who doesn't love a zombie?
Ungulates: Beautiful and delicious.
Unicorns: Also beautiful and delicious.
Uvulas: The uvula is reputed to help one snore. I don't need no stinkin' uvula.
Uzi: I wish I had one in my car.
Posted by Snag at 12:28 AM
Monday, February 16, 2009
"Hi sweetie," the Lovely Bride said to our youngest. "How did the basketball games go?"
We had a basketball tournament on the other side of town this weekend. Even with five hours between the second and third games it was too far away to come home.
"Won one, lost two," he said.
"It happens," she said.
"Yeah," he said. "We had fun."
"That's good," she said. "What did you do between games?"
"Played pool? Where?"
She looked at me, then looked back at him. "At a bar?"
"It was great. Dad and me and E. and A., and some other people from the team went out for burgers at this place Dad knows. Then we played pool for a couple hours."
"Please tell me the grown ups weren't drinking," the Lovely Bride said.
"No, just Diet Coke," he said.
"Beer in the afternoon makes me sleepy," I reminded her.
She turned to me. "Why would you take your son to play pool in a bar?"
"They weren't gambling," I said.
"That was a great Las Vegas story you told us," said my youngest.
"Shut up," I told him.
"Go on," the Lovely Bride told him.
"Please don't," I told him.
Posted by Snag at 11:59 PM
Posted by Snag at 11:58 PM
Friday, February 13, 2009
6:45: What do you mean the goddamned computer's not working?
7:10: Wake me up again and I'll kill you.
8:25: Wish I was dead.
9:00: Start cleaning.
9:45: Lattice bacon? What the hell?
10:00: Molest sausage.
10:05: Sprinkle cooked bacon.
10:10: Scream at dog.
10:15: Roll sausage.
10:17: Roll bacon.
10:19: Put in oven.
10:21: Start cleaning stupid house.
11:15: Greet guests.
11:16: Open beer.
1:30: Put rolls in oven.
1:45: Start eating.
1:45:02: Holy crap, this is good. Way better than expected. Need to buy smoker. Need to make every day.
Posted by Snag at 5:33 PM
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
My oldest son recently took practice tests for his college entrance exams. Having inherited his brains from the Lovely Bride, he did well.
He must have checked a box on a form somewhere requesting information from interested colleges. As a result, he's getting bombarded with emails. Having inherited his cynicism from me, he's taking it with a grain of salt.
"Who've you heard from?" I asked him.
"I don't know. Schools," he said.
"Forward them to me," I told him. "I'm curious."
He did. Emory. Columbia. Swarthmore. Iowa. Washington. Boston. Duke.
"Duke!" my youngest shrieked when he heard. "I can't believe it, you're being recruited by Duke!"
"They don't want me to play basketball, you moron," said the oldest.
The youngest continued to chatter. "You're going to be a Blue Devil!"
"God, he's stupid," the oldest said to me.
"I'm going to UNC," the youngest said.
"Why? Do they have a good hobo program?" I asked.
Before he could answer our puppy attacked him.
"Cujo, kill," I urged.
He began rolling on the kitchen floor with her.
"He'll be lucky to get into middle school," said his brother.
"As long as we get him out of the house someday," I said.
Posted by Snag at 5:49 PM
Posted by Snag at 10:52 AM