Al Franken = Dick

Recently on the Today Show, Matt Lauer posed this question to Al Franken : "Earlier in the program we asked James Carville how important the Valerie Plame story was to the average American on a scale of 1 to 10. He said 2. We asked Laura Ingraham and she said -1. What do you think?"

Al: "I think Laura Ingraham is an idiot."

Kudos to Al for a remark that is both great comedy and searing political commentary.

Wanda Sykes Sucks and Wins Award!

My friends and family were appalled on New Year's Eve when we watched the ball drop in New York. We had NBC 5 on the telly here on the Northern Border of the Greater Chicagoland Area. Wanda Sykes joined in the commentary of the scene in Times Square.

As the ball dropped she made comments about "dropping a Negro down the pole" and how a "Negro would be polishing the ball." These gratuitous stupid comments apparently pass for comedy these days. They were so out of place and inappropriate that everyone in the family room looked at each other and said "What?"

Congratulations to Wanda for being the Inaugural Recipient of the "Monthly Wrong Side of the Saw Kerf Award" for ignorant public behavior. Too bad she couldn't wait until February when we celebrate Negro history.

Amateur Night

Another year has passed. The best parts of 2005 were the White Sox, improvement of personal health and no health issues of consequence among family and friends.

Now it is time for the ritual partying. Some party at bars or restaurants where the prices have been jacked up for the occasion. Other go to friends' homes where the partying is usually pretty lame. Still others go to expensive mega-parties at hotels that are the world's largest meat markets. Most will drink responsibly, many will clog the roadways with blood alcohol levels of lethal proportions.

I tended bar on the Street of Dreams in Chicago during my twenties. I worked twelve hours every NY Eve. I have had enough out with the old, in with the new. December 31st is just another reminder that we are getting older and our appointment with the grim reaper is that much closer.

Like most Greater Chicago-Milwaukee-land Area parents with children, DW and I will stay home and safely watch the ball drop in New York at 11pm. Probably be asleep by midnight.

Hey, I need to get up at 6 with the dogs.

2006 Goals

After some sober reflection, I believe I have come up with reasonable 2006 goals.

1) Improve fitness. I will continue to spin 4 days a week, run 3 days, join the Sunday night swim club for 6 weeks this winter, Pilates twice a week and do weight training 3 days a week. The new twist here is the swimming. I am not a very good swimmer. It is more like controlled flailing. People of Polish descent are not very buoyant.
(Meanwhile I dread the descent of 500 New Year's Resolutioners on my gym this coming week.)

2) Understand my wife and daughters better. It is a female world, I am just living in it.

3) Work at something I enjoy. I just finished a 12,000 word chapter book designed for kids in 3rd to 6th grade. I am going to try to sell it and write another. My daughters thought it was pretty damn good. The day job I ultimately get will be something I enjoy, not just a grind.

4) Only three goals? Believe me, less is more in this case.

Mini-motorcycles

The 11 yr old gomerNeighbor kids got mini-motorcycles for X-Mas. One is a mini mini and the other is like the one in the picture. I got to listen to them ride up and down the street all day today. The local municipal code prohibits the operation of these vehicles on village streets and sidewalks.
My moral dilemma for today, do I leave a copy of the code on their windshield wiper asking them to stop, or do I mind my own business? If I leave the note and they do not stop, do I call the authorities? They live four doors down, and I don't know them anyway. They moved in this past summer. developing...

On England!

I bought myself this England World Cup jersey last week in *England* at EPCOT to further enhance my role as footie poseur. It looks damn nice on me, too. It cannot be worn for more than four hours at a time because the polyester picks up body odors like there is no tomorrow. Maybe that is why euro-trash wannabe's wear it, to be authentic.

Mary Kate Moss to All!

Sorry, Christmas leaves me cold. The gifting is excessive, the kids are at their greedy little worst and no one wants to offend non-Xians. School Christmas parties became Holiday Parties. Now they are Winter Parties. Not good enough for 7th Day Adventists, who demand their children do not participate in parties of any kind. It is all humbug.
But thanks for the card, anyhoo, ListGod.

Bears + Packers = X-Mas

Update Dec 26th: Glad I was wrong- the Bears DID score 24 points like I wanted and did comport themselves like a playoff team. Kudos! - TLR -

At four pm Central on Christmas Day, the oldest rivalry in the NFL is renewed. The circle of life has dictated that the Bears be on the upswing this season, having now won ten games and lost only four, mainly because of the ravenous animals they call their defense. The Packers are mos def on the downswing, with a decimated offensive line, receivers that can't catch and an old cajun at quarterback.

This reporter feels the Bears are overrated as seven point favorites and that they will not cover. The offensive Bear offense may be just the meat the Packers defense craves this week. The emotion of playing on Christmas, at home, for pride only in front of a National Tee-Vee audience may carry this band of green and gold assassins to victory over the Chicagoans. Remember, when the Bears have the football they are the most boring team in pro sports. The Chicago QB is a somewhat talented and somewhat injury-prone youngster who has not played a full game in two years. Grossman may well be fagged out by the end of the first half, and that is when the injury man comes-a-callin' I am telling you what.

The Bears know that if they win, they will clinch the NFC North title, so that may be enough emotional incentive to help them overcome the insult of having to be in Green Bay on Christmas. But I doubt it. I cannot believe in this team until they show they are capable of putting up 24 points a game on a semi-regular basis. Prediction: Green Bay 13 Bears 12

More Gomer Frolicking

Here a cute little feller is jumping around the landscaping at MGM Studios (same spot the NASCAR folk were in) while mom contemplates divorcing her near-braindead husband who just spilled his beer all over his scooter.

Gomers at Disney

A few months ago I posted about NASCAR types camping out in the shrubbery at Disney's MGM Studios Theme Park. Well here is another example. Junior frolics with his sword at EPCOT among the rosebushes while grandpa Amos looks on approvingly out of the frame.
The family was waiting for dusk when the Christmas Tree would be lit. How magical.

Made It Back From Dinny World

I made it! Five days and four nights of frivolity. After so many trips I had to fortify my Lankiness with many beers purchased at the various resorts, restaurants and theme parks in order to stay sane. I mean, how many times can you ride Figment's Journey into Imagination without going mad? I spent some time taking cellphone snapshots of unusual sightings, as I generally do to relieve boredom. Well, that and looking at women's racks. Here is a pic of a lady wearing a "turkey carcass hurlers" t-shirt. A little googling revealed nothing more. I meant to ask the lady who wore the tshirt what it meant but was too afraid to do so. She was that scary looking. She had a big spherical mole barely attached by a tag of skin on one eyelid and only about five teeth that I could see.

Off to Disney World in a *gulp* Airplane.

For about the twentieth-fifth time in the last thirteen years, we are packing up and heading to Orlando. It is only a four-day getaway to escape the snow and cold, but that is better than not going at all. DW is in charge of packing her stuff and the DD's. I am in charge of the guy stuff. Usually I forget underwear (twice) socks (once) or cell phone (once.) I always forget something, which is why I cannot sleep the night before if our flight is the next morning. I worry about missing the plane or forgetting some key piece of clothing or equipment. I toss and turn and sweat all night.

Some of my most gut-wrenching recurring dreams relate to airports. I either miss my flight, get on the wrong flight or fly to Honolulu on a whim for a 2-day trip, regretting it as soon as the plane is airborne.

Other variations are A) descending and landing through high tension wires and narrow city streets, B) taking off on a ramp and then not ascending any more (dream usually ends there) C) forgetting my luggage and finally the ever-popular D) I am at the controls of a jumbo jet taking her in. This is grist for some headshrinker's mill, I am telling you what.

Saturday Saturday Saturday Saturday

Okay, enough Elton John. Today in spin class I hit myself in my privates if you know what I mean. I dropped my hands to my lap as I laughed at someone blowing her nose like a foghorn and boom goes the dynamite, I hit the boys with my knuckles. Shite, it hurt for like 5 minutes!

In a little bit we go to neighbor's 40th birthday party. It is in a restaurant with appetizers, dinner and drinks. (translation: Po the Polacko is going to eat his fill.) There is also music and dancing but fuggetaboutit. I won't dance, don't ask me. I bought the poor bastard a nice bottle of Tres Generaciones tequila and some stool softener. I thought it was a good choice.

Green Bay Should Be Outlawed

I vote we make northern Wisconsin part of Canada. Milwaukee can be the point of entry to the USA.

Today the Packers play the beloved Bears at Soldier Field.

Fearless Prediction: Sunny skies, colder than cold and the Bears beat crap out of the hapless Pack 20 to 0. Favre gets knocked out of the game.

55 is the New 35!

Happy birthday to me, one day late. I promise this will not be a "birthday musings" post.
In January I had a fitness goal to achieve by my 55th birthday. I achieved that goal. I feel lighter, I have more energy and I am motivated to take on another goal in 2006. The Real Age website says my Real Age is 45. yay.

Dear Wife and kids took me to Wildfire in Lincolnshire for dinner. The cashew crusted grouper was very good. The girls all had red meat. Then we haunted Hawthorne Mall in Vernon Hills for awhile. We stopped at various places including Scott's Sports Collectibles where I saw a man holding a Cubs trash can having a discussion with his son, who was holding a Sox can.

"Dad, can I get this?"
"No, how about a Cubs trash can?"
"I want the Sox one."
"I am not going to buy a Sox one. How about a Bears one?"
"But the Sox won the World Series."
Me: "Hard to argue with that logic, dad."
Dad gives me a look of sheer despair.

I leave the store with a White Sox Santa hat and a White Sox World Series clock. The pile of Sox swag grows.

Magnificent Mile Parade = Bad

The family trekked down to downtown Chicago to see a Disney theme park commercial, ostensibly a 25 minute free Holiday Show. We stood in the shadows of the Wrigley and Tribune buildings, watching Disney characters and dancers lip synch the entire show. It was okay, the kids liked it.

Then it was off to the Fairmont to see a two hour Disney Timeshare presentation, nicely packaged as a reception for current Disney Vacation Club owners, complete with free hot pupus and a bar. My daughter cried when I did not drop an additional $11,000 for more DVC points so she could get the Princess Aurora lithograph.

Next, we stopped at a condo Open House next door to look at how Chicagoans can live in the heart of downtown. Pretty nice, actually, and not overly expensive at $200 thousand for a studio with no view.

After that we moseyed onto Michigan Avenue to watch the Magnificant Mile Parade across from the Disney Store. A worse parade was never seen. No music, some characters, no charm. Short and not-so-sweet. Oh well. the kids were happay as we trudged back to AlmostWisconsin with bags of Disney swag and American Girl clothes, including an Irish Dance outfit for a doll that cost $28.

Post-World Series Glow

I must say I have an aura of contentment around me these days. It has been a very pleasant off-season so far. I have been arguing with my mates about politics and the Bears instead of worrying what the Chairman and his minions are doing this off season to improve the World Champion White Sox. Meanwhile did I hear that the sales of White Sox World Series merchandise has eclipsed the sale of 2004 Red Sox stuff? Can it be?

Joseph Pilates

A pretty cool cat who invented an exercise regimin that increases both strength and flexibility. It is hard to do correctly. If it hurts, it is being done incorrectly.

Physical fitness is the first requisite of happiness. In order to achieve happiness, it is imperative to gain mastery of your body. If at the age of 30 you are stiff and out of shape, you are old. If at 60 you are supple and strong then you are young."
Joseph Hubertus Pilates

Thanksgiving Looms

The annual ritual of practicing the Deadly Sin of Gluttony is coming up quickly. This is another celebration I don't care much for. Maybe back in the day families actually gave thanks to God on the last Thursday in November, but these days it is pretty much an excuse to either go on a mini-vacation or get started on Xmas shopping. The day itself is usually highlighted by a family get-together that includes excessive drinking, eating and sleeping in front of a TV while the womenfolk plan their Black Friday shopping strategy at the kitchen table. (I guess that is not so bad after all.)
Some families still happily congregate and renew their familial bonds, I am sure. Those have to be in the minority, just like children born in marriage and marriages that do not end in divorce.
Then there are the families that see each other reluctantly and end up getting drunk and fighting while an American football game blares in the background.
All in all, I can take it or leave it. I think my favorite Thanksgiving weekend occured in 1987 (?) when I was a rakishly handsome single guy in California. I made my own turkey, drank too much beer and fell asleep on the couch. (See, these things can be done alone, too!) Upon awakening I drove to Vegas in a fog and descended upon the Mirage for a couple days gambling, drinking and sleeping. Oh, and I gave thanks for the opportunity to be a wastrel.

Bad Nicknames

Sugar Booger.
Zu-Zu.
Fatty.
Toenails.
Soupy.
Ears.
Weasel.