Today's an anniversary of sorts. I started blogging exactly six months ago. I'll be honest -- I'm surprised I've kept at it. I'd been toying with the idea of starting a blog for a couple of years. If you know me, you know I'm pretty good at coming up with ideas but pretty bad at executing on them. For example, a couple of years ago I decided to start a religion. It was called Religion de Miguel. No, it wasn't based on worshipping me. Religion de Miguel had its own backstory, a messiah, daily high holy time (12:34PM, in case you're wondering), and even a Facebook page (which I didn't start). But, it kind of faded into oblivion. It still gets some mention around the house and with a few of its devoted followers but we're no longer actively recruiting. Maybe I'll pick it up again someday.
Unlike Religion de Miguel, I think blogging is here to stay. I'm not quite as obsessed with it as I was at the beginning. But, it's still pretty important to me. The good news is that I have more ideas than time to post but I can live with that. To help me out, Nick bought me a little notebook to carry around so that I can jot down ideas as they come to me.
I still have a lot of goals for the blog. Right now, I'm trying to get to more readers from around the world. I've been stuck on 10 countries (hello, Luxembourg) for a while now and that's been a bit frustrating. Perhaps I should post about the women's World Cup. Who knows, maybe that will get me some views from Equatorial Guinea.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Thoughts From the Dayton (MD) Branch of Sam's Army
My favorite sports team has always been the Buffalo Bills. It started back in the early '70's when I first got introduced to football. I've always loved my Bills even though, with all their ups and downs, it's been tough to stick with them. I've made it through all kinds of "highlights" including the 20 straight losses to the Dolphins back in the '70's, the 4 consecutive Super Bowl losses in the early '90's, and the last 11 years of playoff-free football. Even in the midst of the lockout, I still make my daily visit to Buffalo Rumblings, the best all-Bills blog on the web, for my fix. For any other Bills fans out there, you should check it out for photos of their new uniforms.
Lately, though, there's been a new team threatening the Bills perch - the U.S. men's national soccer team. Over the past few years, I've started to follow them religiously. During the qualifying run-up for the 2010 World Cup, I didn't miss a game. In fact, I got so into it that I decided that we're going to name our next dog "Concacaf." During the World Cup itself, my scream after Landon Donovan's stoppage time goal against Algeria was louder than any cheer the Bills ever got from me. And, we've never taken the kids to a bar to watch a Bills game but there we were last summer watching the U.S. - Ghana game at Nottingham's.
Last night, the U.S. played the Gold Cup final against Mexico in a sold-out Rose Bowl in Pasadena, CA. Unfortunately, Mexico won 4-2. Here are my post-game thoughts:
Lately, though, there's been a new team threatening the Bills perch - the U.S. men's national soccer team. Over the past few years, I've started to follow them religiously. During the qualifying run-up for the 2010 World Cup, I didn't miss a game. In fact, I got so into it that I decided that we're going to name our next dog "Concacaf." During the World Cup itself, my scream after Landon Donovan's stoppage time goal against Algeria was louder than any cheer the Bills ever got from me. And, we've never taken the kids to a bar to watch a Bills game but there we were last summer watching the U.S. - Ghana game at Nottingham's.
Last night, the U.S. played the Gold Cup final against Mexico in a sold-out Rose Bowl in Pasadena, CA. Unfortunately, Mexico won 4-2. Here are my post-game thoughts:
- The better team won.
- I didn't realize that Pasadena was a suburb of Mexico City. Of the 93,000 spectators in attendance, it seemed like 85,000 were wearing the red, white, and green of Mexico. Maybe that's why the entire post-game ceremony was conducted in Spanish.
- Welcome back, Freddy Adu. I thought he was the best U.S. player on the field even though he still has a tendency to hold the ball too long at times.
- Speaking of Freddy, why is that so many of our best players (Adu, Steve Cherundolo, and Landon Donovan) are only 5'7" -- and balding?
- I wonder if Carlos Bocanegra would be flattered or freaked out to know that Nick now has his haircut.
- I bad-mouthed Jonathan Bornstein all night after he came in to the game following Cherundolo's injury. I guess I wasn't alone. ESPN's post-game player grades summed up Bornstein's play by giving him a 2 (on a scale of 1 to 10) and commenting briefly and succintly as follows: Bornstein was dreadful, failing at all his defensive tasks. That says it all, doesn't it?
Friday, June 24, 2011
Still Looking
U2 came to Baltimore Wednesday night. I went with a couple people I used to work with at Aetna. As usual, they put on a great show. The sound was fantastic. They played "Ultraviolet" during the encore -- just for me. Best of all, they pretty much stuck to the music with Bono preaching quite a bit less than he has the past few times I've seen them.
After the show, I found myself flashing back to the first time I saw U2. It was back in 1987 at RFK Stadium in DC. I remember the show very well. Kim and I drove down and stayed at my sister Maria's apartment for the weekend. The concert was on a Sunday night. Kim had to work the following Monday so she couldn't stick around for the show. So, I ended up going with Maria, some of her friends, our other sister Lisa (who was going to college in DC), and a couple of Lisa's friends.
We had tickets way up in the top tier of the stadium. There were no big video screens or other accoutrements (did I used that word correctly?). It was just the band, a ton of speakers, and your basic light show. That was all the crowd needed. From the first notes of the opening song ("Where The Streets Have No Name"), everyone was in a frenzy - screaming the lyrics, moving their feet, pumping their fists. There was a huge rainstorm in the middle of the show but that didn't slow anyone down -- except Bono who slipped and took a fall from the stage. That ended up cutting the show short by a few songs but noone was too upset. The night had been that good.
The show was awesome, which is why I remember it so vividly. It had only one downside -- it raised my expectations for every U2 show I've seen since. And, my expectations are never fully met. I came close one more time, at a show during the Zoo TV tour the early '90's. But, the gap between expectations and reality has gotten wider with each successive show.
On Wednesday night, I'll admit I got bummed when I saw anyone sit down during the show. I wanted to ask "Why did you even buy a ticket?" to the people who left early to beat the rush. I tried -- but failed -- to get the people around me to sing "40" when the show ended. So, as I walked to my car at the end of the show, I was trying to reconcile those thoughts. Did I have fun or not? Given how hoarse I was from singing so loudly and the sweat that was still dripping off of me from all the jumping around I'd done, I decided the answer was "Yes." And, I knew that, in 3 short weeks, I'd be doing it all over again in Philadelphia -- general admission tickets on the floor this time. Best of all, Nick will be there with me.
After the show, I found myself flashing back to the first time I saw U2. It was back in 1987 at RFK Stadium in DC. I remember the show very well. Kim and I drove down and stayed at my sister Maria's apartment for the weekend. The concert was on a Sunday night. Kim had to work the following Monday so she couldn't stick around for the show. So, I ended up going with Maria, some of her friends, our other sister Lisa (who was going to college in DC), and a couple of Lisa's friends.
We had tickets way up in the top tier of the stadium. There were no big video screens or other accoutrements (did I used that word correctly?). It was just the band, a ton of speakers, and your basic light show. That was all the crowd needed. From the first notes of the opening song ("Where The Streets Have No Name"), everyone was in a frenzy - screaming the lyrics, moving their feet, pumping their fists. There was a huge rainstorm in the middle of the show but that didn't slow anyone down -- except Bono who slipped and took a fall from the stage. That ended up cutting the show short by a few songs but noone was too upset. The night had been that good.
The show was awesome, which is why I remember it so vividly. It had only one downside -- it raised my expectations for every U2 show I've seen since. And, my expectations are never fully met. I came close one more time, at a show during the Zoo TV tour the early '90's. But, the gap between expectations and reality has gotten wider with each successive show.
On Wednesday night, I'll admit I got bummed when I saw anyone sit down during the show. I wanted to ask "Why did you even buy a ticket?" to the people who left early to beat the rush. I tried -- but failed -- to get the people around me to sing "40" when the show ended. So, as I walked to my car at the end of the show, I was trying to reconcile those thoughts. Did I have fun or not? Given how hoarse I was from singing so loudly and the sweat that was still dripping off of me from all the jumping around I'd done, I decided the answer was "Yes." And, I knew that, in 3 short weeks, I'd be doing it all over again in Philadelphia -- general admission tickets on the floor this time. Best of all, Nick will be there with me.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
The Pitch
I have a fantasy that, some day, I'm going to write a screenplay and have it made into a super-successful movie. I'll then turn out the 2 requisite sequels (each of which will earn slightly less money than the original) and ride off into the sunset with Kim.
I don't believe that developing the screenplay is the hard part. Instead, it's all about the ability to pitch your idea. With your pitch, you have to get the production company hooked. The pitch has to be simple, straightforward, and compelling.
I was reminded of the importance of a great pitch when I was flipping through channels using the Verizon Fios guide this past Sunday. I was trying to find a movie to kill some time. Here's what I stumbled across: "A simple farm boy teams up with a mysterious hermit to rescue a princess ..." Because I was using the guide function, the rest of the description was cut off. But, with just those 14 words, I was hooked.
What was the movie? It was Star Wars, of course. The full description goes on to say "... before joining a group of interstellar resistance fighters in conflict with an evil galactic empire that has recently completed construction of a devastating superweapon." I didn't even need that part. My guess is that, when George Lucas was pitching the idea, his audience didn't need the second part either. Like me, they were probably on board as soon as he got to "mysterious hermit."
In any event, I need to keep working on my screenplay ideas. I used to have a lot of hope for a comedy in which Harry Potter, Indiana Jones, and George W. Bush team up in "The Quest for Osama bin Laden" but that one doesn't seem relevant anymore. So, I'm going back to another idea that I think has potential: "A middle-aged, down-on-his-luck custodian (Owen Wilson?) gets a job as a retirement community maintenance man. A group of widows (Helen Mirren, Jane Fonda, and Betty White?) place a bet to see which one of them can get him in bed first. Hijinks ensue." I just need to work on the ending.
I don't believe that developing the screenplay is the hard part. Instead, it's all about the ability to pitch your idea. With your pitch, you have to get the production company hooked. The pitch has to be simple, straightforward, and compelling.
I was reminded of the importance of a great pitch when I was flipping through channels using the Verizon Fios guide this past Sunday. I was trying to find a movie to kill some time. Here's what I stumbled across: "A simple farm boy teams up with a mysterious hermit to rescue a princess ..." Because I was using the guide function, the rest of the description was cut off. But, with just those 14 words, I was hooked.
What was the movie? It was Star Wars, of course. The full description goes on to say "... before joining a group of interstellar resistance fighters in conflict with an evil galactic empire that has recently completed construction of a devastating superweapon." I didn't even need that part. My guess is that, when George Lucas was pitching the idea, his audience didn't need the second part either. Like me, they were probably on board as soon as he got to "mysterious hermit."
In any event, I need to keep working on my screenplay ideas. I used to have a lot of hope for a comedy in which Harry Potter, Indiana Jones, and George W. Bush team up in "The Quest for Osama bin Laden" but that one doesn't seem relevant anymore. So, I'm going back to another idea that I think has potential: "A middle-aged, down-on-his-luck custodian (Owen Wilson?) gets a job as a retirement community maintenance man. A group of widows (Helen Mirren, Jane Fonda, and Betty White?) place a bet to see which one of them can get him in bed first. Hijinks ensue." I just need to work on the ending.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
P.S.
I'm serious about these deer. I really hate them. When I posted yesterday, they had left about 5 blooms in the entire back yard. That's 5 out of what should have been over 100 lilies. As if that wasn't bad enough, I'm sitting here typing this at 6:48AM on Saturday morning -- in my underwear, with grass clippings on my feet and shaving cream on my face. I just chased off the latest intruder who I saw casually stroll into the back yard for her breakfast while I was upstairs shaving.
I'm now down to 2 blooms.
I'm now down to 2 blooms.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Felix Salten Is The Enemy
Felix Salten was the author of Bambi: A Life In The Woods. This book, of course, was the basis for the Disney movie Bambi. I think every child in America sees Bambi before the age of 5, thus ensuring a lifelong love of deer and a belief that deer are innocent creatures that need to be protected from the evils of Man. What a complete crock. Here's what Felix didn't tell us in his story.
- Deer are evil and spiteful mind-readers. They spy on you from the safety of the woods as you admire your landscaping. Using a sixth sense that man has not yet figured out, deer determine which plant is your favorite (for me, it's lilies). They then make that plant their preferred food source. As if that's not bad enough, they wait til the plant blooms, give you a single day to enjoy that bloom, and then spend the next night feasting on it. You wake up the next morning and every one of your lily blooms has been munched down to the stalk. It's almost like they were never there in the first place and you start to question your own sanity.
- Deer don't play fair. Knowing that you really want to keep your favorite plants safe, deer convince master gardeners that they'll stay away from plants that have been repeatedly sprayed with foul-smelling Liquid Fence. Those master gardeners then convince you to spend large amounts of money on Liquid Fence, swearing to you that it will save your plants. Because you're desperate, you start religiously treating your plants with Liquid Fence. Once a week, at dusk, you prowl your yard, spraying Liquid Fence on all your prized plants. You pretend you don't notice when the stinky concoction (it basically smells like rotten eggs mixed with urine) blows back on you while you're treating the plants. You even put up with your dogs vomiting after they lick the Liquid Fence off the plants. Worst of all, because you're a man, you're not allowed to cry when the Liquid Fence fails to do the job and the deer still eat your plants.
- Deer try to kill you. They're too cowardly to do this on their own. Instead, they recruit deer ticks to join them in their effort. After subjecting the ticks to a rigorous training regimen (which consists primarily of teaching the ticks to surreptitiously climb up your leg and embed themselves in your groin and then escape detection for 48 hours), deer select the best and the brightest of these ticks and make them carriers of Lyme Disease. Then, they release the ticks to wreak havoc. So far, they've gotten me twice this year.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
MTB For City Council!
My sister, Maria, is running for city council in Canandaigua, a small city of about 11,000 people in the Finger Lakes region of upstate New York. That got me thinking. I'm now a "new media journalist." Isn't it my obligation to write a first person account of the candidate, complete with insights regarding her qualifications, a summary of what makes her tick, and details regarding her early preparation for the job?
Let's see:
Let's see:
- Maria definitely loves her country and is well-prepared to defend it. Back in the cold war days of the early 1980's, she thought that she'd grow up to work for the CIA. She used to say to me "Hit me as hard as you can. I need to learn to withstand pain in case I'm captured and tortured by the enemy." I was more than happy to oblige. Her pain threshold is (was?) pretty high.
- She's a fierce competitor and never gives up. As an example, she loved to play tennis (she was on the varsity team at good old EFA) and I was her most frequent opponent in the off-season. If I remember correctly, she never beat me. But, that didn't stop her from trying. On further thought, isn't this actually a clear example of Einstein's definition of insanity?
- She's not scared of anything. In her early days in DC, she supplemented her income by delivering Domino's pizzas on her bike throughout northwest DC out of the Domino's located off of Dupont Circle. Even though she's all of 5'1" (on a good day), she had no fear about going anywhere to deliver hot pizzas to her customers. She would ride that bike into some pretty interesting neighborhoods (this was back in the days before gentrification of places like the U Street corridor). She even had a bike or two stolen, all in the name of capitalism.
- She's very good at paperwork, which I think is important for any government official. I think this stems from her early days playing "insurance" in the old garage behind the house on 5 Brown Square. Of course, we didn't know what insurance was, but we knew it had something do with filling out forms. She was good at that. Actually, now that I think about it, I think I was the one who was good at filling out forms. Maria was good at handing them to me and telling me to get busy.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
The Trouble With Reading
Hannah got me a book for my birthday. She made a good choice and got me These Guys Have All The Fun: Inside The World of ESPN. Not only is it about sports, it promises to have plenty of gossip and stories of inter-office backstabbing. Best of all, I can digest it in small bites.
During my high school years, I was probably one of the most frequent visitors to the West Elmira Branch Library. I always had a book checked out from the library. I spent a ton of time each summer sitting in one of our beat up old folding lawn chairs in our back yard, soaking up the sun (at least on my front side) while reading the latest book I'd checked out of the library. I used to love cracking open a new book, knowing that I could shut out reality (yes, even in blissful Elmira, you needed to shut out reality sometimes) and get lost in the story for a couple of days.
Somewhere along the line, though, things changed. The thought of opening a book stopped being exciting and became intimidating. I'm not sure exactly what happened but I think a lot of it had to do with having less free time. When I do have time to myself, I just don't want to commit that time to reading books. I'm the same way with DVD's. Books and movies seem like such big time investments and I'm not certain I'm going to get the return on that investment. I'd rather waste that time going to my favorite celebrity, music, and sports web sites or flipping between channels 623 (Investigation Discovery) and 665 (HGTV).
I have started to enjoy each week's short story in The New Yorker. Most of them are 4-6 pages long which is perfect. If I get through the first page and it's not working for me, I call it quits. If the story holds my interest, I put in the 15-20 minutes and walk away satisfied. This morning, I read a really good story in the May 23rd issue called The Trusty. It's by Ron Rash. I've tried to find it online so that I can link to it but it's behind the pay wall at The New Yorker so you can't get to it (which probably makes you say "Then why did you mention it?"). It's got a great ending. In fact, it was so good that I spent time online this morning googling Ron Rash, trying to find something else of his that I could read. Luckily for me, he's got several short story collections. I'll have to visit the library and give them a try.
During my high school years, I was probably one of the most frequent visitors to the West Elmira Branch Library. I always had a book checked out from the library. I spent a ton of time each summer sitting in one of our beat up old folding lawn chairs in our back yard, soaking up the sun (at least on my front side) while reading the latest book I'd checked out of the library. I used to love cracking open a new book, knowing that I could shut out reality (yes, even in blissful Elmira, you needed to shut out reality sometimes) and get lost in the story for a couple of days.
Somewhere along the line, though, things changed. The thought of opening a book stopped being exciting and became intimidating. I'm not sure exactly what happened but I think a lot of it had to do with having less free time. When I do have time to myself, I just don't want to commit that time to reading books. I'm the same way with DVD's. Books and movies seem like such big time investments and I'm not certain I'm going to get the return on that investment. I'd rather waste that time going to my favorite celebrity, music, and sports web sites or flipping between channels 623 (Investigation Discovery) and 665 (HGTV).
I have started to enjoy each week's short story in The New Yorker. Most of them are 4-6 pages long which is perfect. If I get through the first page and it's not working for me, I call it quits. If the story holds my interest, I put in the 15-20 minutes and walk away satisfied. This morning, I read a really good story in the May 23rd issue called The Trusty. It's by Ron Rash. I've tried to find it online so that I can link to it but it's behind the pay wall at The New Yorker so you can't get to it (which probably makes you say "Then why did you mention it?"). It's got a great ending. In fact, it was so good that I spent time online this morning googling Ron Rash, trying to find something else of his that I could read. Luckily for me, he's got several short story collections. I'll have to visit the library and give them a try.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
What I Learned in the Last Year
Sunday was my 44th birthday. I've never found my birthday to be a big cause for celebration. It just means that I'm getting older and it's hard to see much positive in that. But, on the drive home from work today, I was thinking that there are some good things about getting older. For example, with each passing year, you accumulate more experiences. I guess the trick is to sort through all those experiences and pick out some learnings that can help you in the future.
I got to thinking about the most important things I learned in the past year. Here are a couple of them:
I got to thinking about the most important things I learned in the past year. Here are a couple of them:
- Kim's parents were right years ago when they told us (over one of those great long dinners on the porch at Fox Point where I never wanted anyone to get up and start clearing the table because that meant that the conversation was over) that the role of a parent is to prepare your kids to be independent so that, when they leave, they're successful in whatever they choose to do. As hard as it was to have Hannah go off to college last fall, it was more than worth it to see her have such a great time at school. I know she's only started to make her own way but I think we must have done pretty well getting her ready.
- Patience really is a virtue -- and I still don't have enough of it.
- Fishing is fun -- but only when someone else is driving the boat and setting the rods.
- Getting up at 5:30AM is much better than getting up at 4:45AM, although it's still pretty darn early in the cold dark months of January and February.
- Being asked for your opinion, even when the direction that's chosen isn't the one that you recommend, is much better than not being asked for your opinion at all.
- When drilling a hole in a piece of wood, never place the hand that's supporting the wood directly in the line of the drill bit.
- When the boat is frozen in at the dock, make sure that you drop the goose directly in front of the duck blind. If you don't, it's not a good idea to play human ice breaker and try to retrieve the bird.
- All organizations have problems -- they may be different problems, but they're problems nonetheless.
- I really miss Artie Lange.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Father of the Year
Kim's always taken the lead on coming up with ideas for Christmas and birthday presents for the kids. It's pretty rare for me to come up with an idea on my own, let alone go ahead and make the purchase. Last Christmas was an exception. My great idea -- 3 tickets to the New Kids on the Block / Backstreet Boys "reunion" tour.
Hannah was somewhere around 6-7 years old and Nick would have been 4-5 when the Backstreet Boys were at the height of their careers. At the time, we lived on Maple Avenue right next door to the Boslet's. The Boslet's had two girls, Emma and Tess. Emma was Nick's age and Tess was about 15 months younger.
Emma, Tess, Hannah, and Nick played together constantly. There were a couple of recurring themes whenever they were together. They were all into the Land Before Time videos so Nick spent a lot of time chasing the girls while roaring. We had a bunch of stick horses and cowboy hats and the four kids could spend hours in our basement running in circles pretending they were in the Wild West. Finally, Emma and Hannah were huge Backstreet Boys fans. They used to put on dance routines and they'd always get Nick and Tess to participate.
When we moved to Big Branch Drive, the dinosaur games and stick horse riding stopped. But, the Backstreet Boys stayed. In the first couple years that we lived here, whenever the kids were in the basement playing, they'd put on their CD's and it was usually the Backstreet Boys that got the most airplay.
In any event, when I heard that the Backstreet Boys were going on tour this year with the New Kids on the Block, I thought "What a perfect gift for Hannah, Nick, and Jay." Somehow, I seemed to forget that Nick had grown up and was 17 years old and Jay, besides being 14, had really been too young for the whole Backstreet Boys thing in the first place. Oh, well. Too late. I'd already bought the tickets so the three of them were going.
Last night was the show at the Verizon Center in DC. All 5 of us went into town. We parked the car, got the three of them some dinner, made plans to meet up after the show, and then walked over to the arena. The sidewalks were filled with people going to the show. I'd guess that 90% of them were 20-35 year-old women having a girls night out while reliving their childhoods. Another 5% were gay guys of the same age who were doing the same thing. The final 5% were husbands and boyfriends who were tagging along for the night. And then, of course, there were Nick and Jay.
As we said our good-byes and the three of them went into the arena, Kim looked at me and said "I can't believe those boys are going to that show." "They'll be fine," I said, "It will be fun." While saying that out loud, in my head I was telling myself that I was creating one of those great shared memories for them that they'll remember in 20 years, asking each other "What was Dad thinking when he got us NKOTBSB tickets?"
Anyway, they made it through the show. Hannah, of course, loved it. Her first comment,as soon as we saw her, was "That was awesome." Once in the car, Nick told us some great stories. He gave us a play-by-play of the antics of all the people seated around them. My favorite was his story about the group of guys a couple rows in front of them who mimicked every dance move that NKOTBSB made, right down to tearing off their own shirts when Donny Wahlberg ripped of his. Jay just told us that there were tons of women screaming continuously and that he was glad it was over.
All in all, I think they had a good time. But I'll probably take this year off from buying any Christmas presents for them.
Hannah was somewhere around 6-7 years old and Nick would have been 4-5 when the Backstreet Boys were at the height of their careers. At the time, we lived on Maple Avenue right next door to the Boslet's. The Boslet's had two girls, Emma and Tess. Emma was Nick's age and Tess was about 15 months younger.
Emma, Tess, Hannah, and Nick played together constantly. There were a couple of recurring themes whenever they were together. They were all into the Land Before Time videos so Nick spent a lot of time chasing the girls while roaring. We had a bunch of stick horses and cowboy hats and the four kids could spend hours in our basement running in circles pretending they were in the Wild West. Finally, Emma and Hannah were huge Backstreet Boys fans. They used to put on dance routines and they'd always get Nick and Tess to participate.
When we moved to Big Branch Drive, the dinosaur games and stick horse riding stopped. But, the Backstreet Boys stayed. In the first couple years that we lived here, whenever the kids were in the basement playing, they'd put on their CD's and it was usually the Backstreet Boys that got the most airplay.
In any event, when I heard that the Backstreet Boys were going on tour this year with the New Kids on the Block, I thought "What a perfect gift for Hannah, Nick, and Jay." Somehow, I seemed to forget that Nick had grown up and was 17 years old and Jay, besides being 14, had really been too young for the whole Backstreet Boys thing in the first place. Oh, well. Too late. I'd already bought the tickets so the three of them were going.
Last night was the show at the Verizon Center in DC. All 5 of us went into town. We parked the car, got the three of them some dinner, made plans to meet up after the show, and then walked over to the arena. The sidewalks were filled with people going to the show. I'd guess that 90% of them were 20-35 year-old women having a girls night out while reliving their childhoods. Another 5% were gay guys of the same age who were doing the same thing. The final 5% were husbands and boyfriends who were tagging along for the night. And then, of course, there were Nick and Jay.
As we said our good-byes and the three of them went into the arena, Kim looked at me and said "I can't believe those boys are going to that show." "They'll be fine," I said, "It will be fun." While saying that out loud, in my head I was telling myself that I was creating one of those great shared memories for them that they'll remember in 20 years, asking each other "What was Dad thinking when he got us NKOTBSB tickets?"
Anyway, they made it through the show. Hannah, of course, loved it. Her first comment,as soon as we saw her, was "That was awesome." Once in the car, Nick told us some great stories. He gave us a play-by-play of the antics of all the people seated around them. My favorite was his story about the group of guys a couple rows in front of them who mimicked every dance move that NKOTBSB made, right down to tearing off their own shirts when Donny Wahlberg ripped of his. Jay just told us that there were tons of women screaming continuously and that he was glad it was over.
All in all, I think they had a good time. But I'll probably take this year off from buying any Christmas presents for them.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Another Trip to the Big City
Yesterday was Nick's birthday. For his birthday dinner, he asked that we go to Abbey Burger Bistro in Baltimore. We'd never been there before but a friend had told us about the place a year or so ago and just raved about the burgers. So, we decided to give it a try.
Trips to Baltimore with the kids are always eventful. My favorite family trip to Baltimore goes back a couple of years. We'd taken the kids in to see the Baltimore Symphony's Christmas show and then were cutting through town to get to Fells Point for dinner. As we drove past Lexington Market, Nick looked out the window and asked why no one on the street had Vera Bradley bags. Life in Dayton is clearly a little too sheltered.
Last night we took I-95 up to Baltimore and got off at the Russell Street exit. From there, we cut over the 3 or 4 blocks to Federal Hill. In that short time, I heard two shouts from the back seat of "Look, a gang" as we drove past people who were just walking down the street. I told the kids that, just because you live in the city and you're walking down the street with someone else, it doesn't mean you're in a gang. I don't think I convinced them.
Finally, we made it over to Light Street and I started to parallel park the minivan. I would have hit a guy on his bike in the process if Kim hadn't helpfully yelled "Watch out" while I was backing up. Thanks, Kim. Once we were parked, we headed off to find Abbey Burger Bistro. I knew it was in a little alleyway off of Cross Street but what I didn't know was that Cross Street is divided in two by an enclosed market. Of course, I took us the wrong way at first. In a real sign of my growing maturity, I didn't get angry -- I just turned everyone around and said "It must be the other way." In another remarkable turn of events, they all just dutifully followed me.
We eventually made it to the restaurant and everyone was happy to get back into the air conditioning. Once seated, the waitress gave each of us our own individual checklist and a little pencil. You pick your meat (the special last night was kangaroo -- I passed), how you want it cooked, the type of bun, your cheese selection, and then any toppings you want from a list of 30-40 different items. It was pretty fun. The only bad thing is that the pencils don't have erasers so you have to be absolutely sure what you want before you start making your selections.
After some agonizing, I picked angus beef with swiss cheese, bacon, lettuce, pickles, ketchup, and mayonaisse on a traditional bun. I've had a lot of good burgers in my life. Up until last night, I would have said that Five Guys burgers are the best. Not anymore. Last night's burger at Abbey Burger Bistro was the best burger I've ever had. As I was taking bites, a couple little pieces of beef fell back into the basket. I had to pick them up with my fingers so that I wouldn't miss out on anything. I can't wait to go back and the kids feel the same way -- even if it does mean another scary trip to the big city.
Trips to Baltimore with the kids are always eventful. My favorite family trip to Baltimore goes back a couple of years. We'd taken the kids in to see the Baltimore Symphony's Christmas show and then were cutting through town to get to Fells Point for dinner. As we drove past Lexington Market, Nick looked out the window and asked why no one on the street had Vera Bradley bags. Life in Dayton is clearly a little too sheltered.
Last night we took I-95 up to Baltimore and got off at the Russell Street exit. From there, we cut over the 3 or 4 blocks to Federal Hill. In that short time, I heard two shouts from the back seat of "Look, a gang" as we drove past people who were just walking down the street. I told the kids that, just because you live in the city and you're walking down the street with someone else, it doesn't mean you're in a gang. I don't think I convinced them.
Finally, we made it over to Light Street and I started to parallel park the minivan. I would have hit a guy on his bike in the process if Kim hadn't helpfully yelled "Watch out" while I was backing up. Thanks, Kim. Once we were parked, we headed off to find Abbey Burger Bistro. I knew it was in a little alleyway off of Cross Street but what I didn't know was that Cross Street is divided in two by an enclosed market. Of course, I took us the wrong way at first. In a real sign of my growing maturity, I didn't get angry -- I just turned everyone around and said "It must be the other way." In another remarkable turn of events, they all just dutifully followed me.
We eventually made it to the restaurant and everyone was happy to get back into the air conditioning. Once seated, the waitress gave each of us our own individual checklist and a little pencil. You pick your meat (the special last night was kangaroo -- I passed), how you want it cooked, the type of bun, your cheese selection, and then any toppings you want from a list of 30-40 different items. It was pretty fun. The only bad thing is that the pencils don't have erasers so you have to be absolutely sure what you want before you start making your selections.
After some agonizing, I picked angus beef with swiss cheese, bacon, lettuce, pickles, ketchup, and mayonaisse on a traditional bun. I've had a lot of good burgers in my life. Up until last night, I would have said that Five Guys burgers are the best. Not anymore. Last night's burger at Abbey Burger Bistro was the best burger I've ever had. As I was taking bites, a couple little pieces of beef fell back into the basket. I had to pick them up with my fingers so that I wouldn't miss out on anything. I can't wait to go back and the kids feel the same way -- even if it does mean another scary trip to the big city.