That Wild Night Life (among other things...)

I make no secret of how I am settling into middle-age. Tonight is a prime example. For our New Year's Eve excitement we will not be painting the town red or tripping the light fantastic anywhere. Instead, Shlomo and I will be spending the evening with our dear friends Tom Hanks and Julia Roberts as we relive Charlie Wilson's War. Exciting, no?

Another sign that I am a middle-aged man: today I went to Best Buy and put that previously-mentioned gift card to use...on this, this, and this. That is one of my New Year's resolutions...to become more versed in classical music. We are seeing the 5 Browns in January and Itzhak Perlman in April so my education will probably consist of those two concerts, these three CDs and possibly watching this.

As far as other resolutions go, I am struggling this year. Lose weight, spend more time with Shlomo, argue over the little things less, etc. I am not saying my life is perfect, but I am smart enough to know that it does not get much better than this. I have a great partner. I enjoy his fantastic kids. My cousin's kids are still the lights of my life. The zoo is good. Hell, life is good.

My hope for the coming year is that everyone Shlomo and I care about can find the same peace and perspective in their own lives. Happy new year! Here's to a great 2008!

Shlomo, Shlomo, Shlomo

I thought I would share a few observances from my beloved as of late and my retorts. It might give a little insight into our relationship.

• Shlomo hates when I put links in the blog. He does not like to have to click to see things I mention like this, this, or this.
• If you know us, you know that our most common disagreement is over his Blackberry. I have finally given up and decided if you can't beat him, join him. My Blackberry Pearl should arrive in 5 to 7 working days.
• He has now ventured into the world of the French-cuffed shirts (or as the Republicans would say Freedom-cuffed shirts). I am still uneasy about his as cufflinks are both my domain and my trademark. However, him having a few stylish pairs simply means more at my disposal.
• We both seem to share an obsession over this. That was for you, Shlomo. That's not grrrrrrr-eat!
• However, he has been very complimentary of the coconut- and banana-meringue pies that I made this week. I think he learned his lesson about criticizing my cooking on Thanksgiving. That was a fun experience.

But all kidding aside, Shlomo. I love you more than anything. I cannot and do not want to imagine my life without you. Now, seriously, who would buy those shoes? However, maybe I should get them as they would match this.

Let Your Voice Be Heard

There is a new poll about the most pressing issue in our country right now if you scroll down the sidebar. It has annoying arrows that I cannot get rid of, but still, this non-scientific poll should give our nation the answer it is so desperately seeking. There is a certain speech pathologist I know who hasn't been able to sleep for days over this. Well, I assume she hasn't been able to. If she has been sleeping, she clearly does not care about our country.

That Dreaded Disease

Something is wrong with me. It's not good. I don't know how I have contracted this horrible...for lack of a better word...affliction. I did not see it coming. But, I--the king of the bargain--have seemingly lost the will to shop.

Case in point: lunch today. For almost a decade, I have enjoyed some light shopping on my lunch break. It usually amounts to stuff I really don't need (an over-priced bejeweled pug and pink poodle by him are good examples) or ever really use (decades dessert plates from Pottery Barn, anyone?). However, today I visited Best Buy. I even had a gift card courtesy of my boss. It wasn't going to cost me anything. I could get a couple of CDs or DVDs or whatever. What did I leave with? Nothing. That's right. Nada. Zip. Zilcho. Doris Day/Rock Hudson movie collection? No thanks. Ultimate Dirty Dancing soundtrack? Not so much. Yes, these are things I probably would have enjoyed, but I left the store empty-handed.

I guess the only possible explanation is that Shlomo and I have simply shopped too much. (Don't get too excited Shlomo...I still want that one thing we are waiting until March for.) Maybe that is part of the problem. When there is one thing I want more than anything else, maybe nothing else matters if that thing is truly within reach. If you know it is not really a possibility like, say, a chateau in the south of France or a yacht, it does not have the same effect. So maybe, just maybe, my expensive taste is starting to work in my favor. It's possible.

By the way--that one special item--yeah, I am saving it for a later post. I don't want to talk about it now for fear that I will jinx it. Oh, and M-Dawg, I am sorry for taking you on my fruitless trip to Best Buy. It won't happen again. Although, we might have to go back on January 8 when this comes out.

In the meantime, please pray that my desire for retail therapy returns. How will I spend those boring Saturday afternoons if I am not procuring pricey items? Training the dogs? That's a lost cause (but not for that certain someone in Arkansas with a new puppy...hang in there). Doing something charitable? Maybe. Exercising? I could not even type that with a straight face. Face it...it's either shopping or napping. Hopefully, God will once again bless me with the desire to shop. I can sleep at the office.

Reading Railroad

Okay, I admit it. You caught me. I posted my "Books to Read in 2008" list and I have already started...even though it is still 2007. I am currently reading (and have no idea when I will get back to it) The Darkest Evening of the Year by Dean Koontz. I am waiting for the incredibly dark, supernatural turn. It's Dean Koontz. I know it has to be in there somewhere. So far, it is just the story of a girl who rescues golden retrievers. Yes, she has a past. But who doesn't? I have to admit, I am not a huge Koontz fan because I view him as a little too commercial (not that there is anything wrong with that!) and some of his stories are downright creepy. However, Fear Nothing and its sequel Sieze the Night are two of my favorite books. If you have not read them and have the means, I highly recommend picking up copies.

On a brighter note, I have set about acquiring the books for 2008. I view this as a positive first step. I just placed an order at Amazon for a couple of them. This one I have to finish before the movie hits Houston in a couple of weeks. Such pressure. Shlomo and I keep hoping that January will be a slow month. Hopefully, it will be and I will get time to dig into a few of these.

In the meantime, I will let you know how my reading list goes and how the current book turns out. As someone who used to read a couple of books a week, it is pitiful how few I listed for the year. It is even more pitiful how uncertain I am that I will get them all read. But, let's take a moment to celebrate the upcoming arrival of this! All hail, Ms. Weiner and her allowing us to catch up with Cannie her main character of Good in Bed. I cannot wait to see what has transpired. (I know I am crazy, but I kind of think of her as an actual person...that might be why I really cannot read Dean Koontz that often...they aren't real, Anshel. They ARE NOT REAL!) Oh well.

The Christmas Re-Gift...A New Take

So this is how it played out. A few weeks ago, my dad called and asked me to find a Christmas gift for my mother. This is not an uncommon occurence. That gay gene is good for something. Anywho, my mother is often wise to this game and has an uncanny knack to call within 48 hours of my dad with a list of things she would like. Sometimes, she even manages to place her call before him. You also have to understand that they live in the same house and I am the middle-man who is 500 miles away.

My mother wanted some jacket from Talbot's (hey--she is their target demographic--no judgment). I went to Talbot's and procured said item made of red corduroy. I told my dad how much he owed (which was exactly half the cost of the jacket as we did not want another heart attack and knew my mom was good for the rest). My mother was here a few weeks ago, I sent the jacket with her, she even had it dry-cleaned, and best of all, she paid me for it.

Now, fast forward to this past weekend when we all gathered at their house to exchange gifts. Before the gift exchange, my dad had given me the $50. I gave it to my mom. We were good to go. All was well. My mother opened the jacket, acted surprised, my dad seemed pleased.

That was until this morning. He was going to the grocery store to pick up a few items and my mother gave him $40--the same two twenties he had given me (which I had given back to her, etc.) She simply placed the remaining $10 bill on the counter in the kitchen. My dad comes home, sees the $10 and the interchange goes something like this....

Dad says, "Is this my $10?"

Mom replies, "No, it's mine"

Dad chimes in, "Well it was mine and I gave it to Anshel (that would be me). What are you doing with it?"

Mom: "Uh, he owed me money for something. How do you know it was yours?"

Dad: "Because I recognize that bill. That's the way I fold it."

Busted. WTF? How close is my dad to his money that he now recognizes individual bills? Seriously, people. You cannot make that shit up. Oh well, Happy Holidays.

Little Sister...All Grown Up

As we always said in Arkansas growing up, "Thank God for Louisiana." Wow. This was unexpected...but I am guessing more so to the parents-to-be than to me. Oy vey.

Two Men and Some Babies

Shlomo is frustrated with me. I have known this for two whole days and yet to share it in the world of blogginess. Our chicks are hatching. At last count, there are two. However, the finches lay eggs every other day and there were four eggs, so who knows if there will be more in this nest or not.

Often you see babies and think that is a face only a mother could love. I will tell you right now, I am clearly not a mother. I want you to imagine a naked pink gremlin the size of a peanut. That is what they look like right now. It will be about three weeks or so before they are big enough to leave the nest and about six months old before they have their adult feathers.

Although they are the Burgess Meredith of the bird world at the moment, it is still pretty exciting. I have mentioned our lack of success with our fish procreating (Shlomo--I still blame those scavengers you love so much!) and both of the dogs have been spayed. With Shlomo and I reproduction is limited at best. So, anyway, babies in the house...it's great as long as I don't have any 2:00 a.m. feedings.

Notice to all Inventors

This is the country where Henry Ford developed the Model-T, the Wright brothers first flew an aircraft, heck--we even put a man on the moon. So my question is this: why can no one invent a vending machine that will take my dollar bill on the first try? Seriously. It doesn't matter how smooth or crisp my bill is, it takes at least three tries. I should not have to go through all of that for a Skor bar or a bag of Chili-Cheese Fritos.

Cool Rider?

On my 30-minute drive to work this morning, I uncovered a shocking discovery. It probably will not come as a surprise to those who know me. I don't know that it actually surprised me, either. But, here it is. I am not cool. Furthermore, I don't care to be cool. I am in my mid-thirties. I don't want to be twentysomething anymore.

Case in point: my car. When I was in my 20s, I drove a little red convertible. It was fun. I loved barreling down the freeway with the top down. Now, I drive a fairly standard SUV. I like being able to go to Costco and actually buy something. I like taking the dogs to be boarded and not have them panting profusely (that means you, Lulu) in the seat next to me. I also like that I don't feel quite so worried that an SUV will run me out of my lane because they don't see me. I am that SUV.

As if that was not bad enough, let's review my job situation. A few years ago, I worked for this happening software company that was literally voted by a fashion magazine as the coolest place to work in America. It was cool for about six months. Then, they had a few bad quarters. Layoffs ensued. I was never a victim of the layoffs, but it was unsettling. All those great perks like the gym, the on-site salon, the gourmet chefs in the subsidized cafeteria? They mostly went with the released workers. Now, said company no longer makes the cool list. I left of my own volition. I work in a less cool company, but I actually don't mind going to work nearly as much. I feel I have a little job security. Security? I think that tops cool.

So anyway, I am driving to work...I exit, pause my Betty Buckley cd (because I am that cool) and order my usual Egg McMuffin with no meat at McDonalds. That's right. I like breakfast at McDonalds. I used to kind of hide this fact. No more. It's me. I am embracing it. In fact, for lunch, I might just go to Olive Garden. Cool? Not at all. Do I like their salad? Yes, I admit it. Yes, I do.

But before you begin to think I have completely embraced my nerdiness (I mean Shlomo and I are planning to drive over an hour one way to pick up a pair of birds tonight), I will point out that I did recently purchase a new Andrew Marc leather jacket. However, I view it more as finely-made rather than cool.

So, as I ready myself to get home late tonight and curl up in bed to watch a Will and Grace rerun or some movie from Netflix on the flat-screen with surround sound rather than go out to some club, I realize that I have passed the phase of my life where cool matters. Fine is better. Besides, how cool could an accountant have been to begin with?

It's Supposed to be about Pop Culture, Isn't It?

I know the blog is called PC is for Pop Culture and I know I don't always cover that. So here are a few of musings over the past week's events.

1. So Chachi got married and it wasn't to Joanie? Why do we care? Wasn't he famous like 25 years ago?
2. Britney is now a thief and a drunk and just plain crazy? For some unknown reason, I do kind of care.
3. Oprah, you may occasionally tell me what book to read. However, I can make my own decision who to vote for. It may be Obama, it may not be. I liked you better when you were not political. Hillary and Edwards should not be ruled out.
4. All hail the Queen of Broadway!
5. What was with Barbara Walters's 10 Most Fascinating People? I think it was more like 10 semi-famous people I could get an interview with. Victoria Beckham...major? Yes. Fascinating? Not so much. Katherine Heigl? Pretty? Yes. Talented? Probably. Fascinating? To whom? J.K. Rowling at number one? If you want someone from the entertainment world, I think she should have looked in her own backyard and chosen Rosie. She took a ho-hum show and made it exciting. Whoopi made it ho-hum again.

Babies in the House?

This weekend we discovered something very exciting in the aviary...two of the hens are sitting on nests. One nest we know has at least four eggs in it. The other--we are not certain how many. We know we are nerds to be excited over this, but our fish were supposed to reproduce. It's been a year. Our only additions have been because we paid for them. I still blame Shlomo and his obsession with having scavengers for this. Sorry, Shlomo. I do.

I know from recent posts you think this would be Pinot and Merlot, but not so much. They are inseparable, but have not taken to a nest yet. I will keep you posted. The estimated hatch time is 14 to 16 days, but it will more than likely be at least a couple of weeks after that before we see the birds.

Taking a Bite out of the Big Apple

Shlomo and I just returned from five glorious days in New York. Ah, New York...how I love thee. Lately, we seem to go every three or four months even if it is just for the weekend. It's one of our favorite things to do...the theatre...the shopping...the shopping...the food...the theatre...the shopping...okay, you get the drift. Oh yeah, and usually if we are there for more than two days, we try to work in a museum and shopping in the gift shop, of course.

Highlights from the trip:

• Pink. I think that is enough said on that subject. I love their shirts. Even Shlomo appears to have converted to my way of thinking.
• Cufflinks half-price and Barneys...I love me some garnets with smoky topaz.
• Spring Awakening...the second time was better than the first. Front-row, baby!
• Seeing Greg Brady walking down 46th Street on our way to see Kevin Kline and Jennifer Garner in Cyrano de Bergerac.
• Jimmy Smits sitting two rows in front of us at Cyrano. Hello, Gorgeous! Who knew he was like nine feet tall? Also, people, if a celebrity puts on their cap and glasses at intermission, it means they want to be left alone. They deserve a private life like everyone else.
• Let it Snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow! There was at least a little bit falling on every day but one. I loved it. Shlomo hated it.
• Late night snack at the Russian Tea Room. I felt just like I was Angela Bower on Who's the Boss? dining there. She always went there with her high-filutin' clients. It seemed so glamorous then. Dining there fulfilled a life-long dream of a little gay boy in Hicksville, Arkansas. Caviar...yum!
• Any day wandering the streets of Soho is a good day. But, those cobble-stones can be a bitch. My feet may never recover.
• Buying a leather jacket on Sunday at Bloomingdale's 40% off and going back to the store on Monday only to discover that the sale was over. Yippee for me. It's like buttah!
• Brunch at Norma's with the best hot chocolate I have ever had. Valrona and cream...can't go wrong there.
• Jackson Pollock at the MOMA...with the shine only tarnished slightly due to the fact that Shlomo kept referring to him as John Pollock.
• More ridiculous shopping to be blogged about later.
• Xanadu, Die Mommie Die!, Rosie Perez in The Ritz, and Young Frankenstein...sorry Fronk-uhn-steen. Okay, there was not a bad play in the bunch. Picking a favorite is like picking a favorite Menendez brother...impossible!
• Three episodes of Gossip Girl on the flight back. It's getting good. Reeeeeaaaaallllll gooooooood.

Alas, now I am back home and struggling through a not-so-glorious day at the office. In the meantime, I will have to content myself with this, this, and this.

Lady and the Tramp

I rarely blog (if ever--okay all the time--pretty much every third post) about our ever-expanding menagerie of animals. Yes, our terrier mix Fargo has an occasional (and in the case of yesterday--ferocious) accident in her crate. Our pug Lulu has constant demands for attention. And, it seems there is always a fish or two in some sort of crisis where we wonder if they are "okay."

This weekend, however, we realized that we had crossed a line and we may never be able to go back. On a dreary, rainy Saturday morning, Shlomo and I were up and out of the house at 8:00 a.m. to drive 30-something miles to a bird show. Rumor had it that there would be the ever-elusive female Red-Faced Parrot finch there. Now, you would think that someone who left at 8:00 on a Saturday would be first in line, right? Wrong. We were second.

Luckily, we were able to procure said rarity in the finch world. Our sweet little girl (named Merlot) was boxed up and we drove her home to join Pinot (her male counterpart) and the 12 other finches in our small aviary.

We have added new birds before. They fly out of the box, look around for a minute or two...and are part of the community. Not this time. Upon flying out of the box, Merlot was immediately spotted by Pinot. I think I can best describe his reaction as saying it was like he was just released from prison and discovered that Eva Longoria was his parole officer. He was on her like, well, stink on shit. Merlot, after thirty minutes no longer looked like the pretty little bird we had brought home. She was tattered and tired. In fact, I am pretty sure Jodie Foster could have based her performance in The Accused on their first few minutes together.

Now that a couple of days have passed, he seems to be leaving her alone. However, they are constantly at each other's side. Our only hope now is that the nesting process will begin. Keep in mind, we have no idea what we would do with baby birds, but it has already been established that we are nerds and will figure that out when the time comes.

Stuffed.

The turkey is turkeyed. The yams are yammed. The casseroles are casseroled. And, the pies are pied. 8 hours of cooking for one meal. Yes, it's one good meal. But, is it REALLY worth it? In the end, I say yes. Shlomo's kids seem to really enjoy it. Their bragging does not stop. Shlomo himself brags on my cooking. He should. He does not cook, but thinks he can tell me every step to make.

Note to Shlomo: This is how it works. In my kitchen (like in the kitchen of my mother), there is one chef. That is me. If you want to make something, I am happy for you to. I don't have to do it all, but you don't cook (scrambled eggs, aside). Please, keep me company. I love to spend time with you. However, I pretty much know how to do whatever it is that I am doing. Telling me that it is not the way you have had something does not help me. If you ask for something, I go about finding the best way to make it (which might, just might, be different from the way you have had it in the past). Please forgive me when I lose my temper in the kitchen. It is hard work in there. It is work I enjoy, but it is still hard work.

Aside from my necessary note/apology, it was a great holiday. It is always fun to see Shlomo's kids. Their constant bickering is still funny. Exhausting, but funny. Six people, one turkey, steaks, 8 pounds of yams, a double recipe of broccoli rice casserole, 24 rolls, and three pies...how could it not be a great meal?

To my dozen (Please, God, let it be a dozen!) of readers, I hope you too had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Now, we are all onto the rest of the holiday season. It's time to pray for good weather and no "Noreasters." Otherwise, I might miss Die Mommie! Die! on stage. That would be a holiday tragedy.

Turkey Trot

So Shlomo and I had to do our pre-Thanksgiving grocery shopping last night. That is never fun. The one saving grace, I heard Irene Cara singing "Breakdancing" over the loud speaker. That is so 1984. But, of course, I could not help but sing along. Happy Thanksgiving!

A Made-for-Lifetime Movie

As much as I hate to admit it, I might get caught up in the occasional movie on Lifetime...Television for Women and Gay Men. Okay, I might have recently downloaded "The Mermaid Chair" to my iPod. (Seriously, did you know you can do that for around $4? It is the greatest thing ever!) Anyway, I have seen so many of them that I know I could write one. Of course, none could ever parallel Tori Spelling in either "Mother, May I Sleep With Danger" or "Co-Ed Call Girl."

Still, Shlomo had a brilliant casting idea for one...and, running with Shlomo's idea, I have decided that I (or someone) should write a Lifetime movie where Linda Gray and Lisa Rinna play mother and daughter. No one plays boozy better than Sue Ellen, so I think it should be called "Drinking With My Daughter" or "The Irish Lass" or "Pubs 'N Hubs." The last one could also feature Larry Hagman and Harry Hamlin as the spouses.

I am not sure what the plot will be, but I can assure you there will be drinking involved. Maybe some AA meetings, an intervention, and of course a tearful reunion. All recipes should be so simple.

Concerns of the Moment

• The finch collection now stands at 11. I think we are four away from our magic number. We are seriously out of control, but they are so pretty and fun to watch. As of now, all have stayed in the cage.
• Another stressful moment in NYC...the Broadway stagehands are on strike. It should not affect us greatly in December as only one of the six (that's right SIX!) shows we are planning to see is shut down. The issue is that the show is our favorite Spring Awakening. We have front-row seats. They better get this strike resolved.
• Slightly stressed about Dancing With the Stars this week? Who will be voted off? Who will it be? These things keep me up at night. Sad, I know.
• Thanksgiving is next week. How did that happen? Seems like we just had Labor Day.
• Elisabeth Hasselbeck had her baby. Please let this be one long maternity leave.
• Still loving Reese and Jake as a couple.
• Thank goodness JLo announced her pregnancy. I have never been so shocked.

Lambo in Limbo!

I know it seems that I only use this blog to kvetch about my shipping nightmares. However, my frustration with FedEx is at an all-time high. Lambo was shipped international priority from Jerusalem last Wednesday with a scheduled arrival on Friday of last week. There was a customs issue so its delivery was delayed until it was resolved. The issue was resolved on Friday and we were assured delivery on Monday (today!).

Over the weekend I casually (okay, obsessively) checked their website. It is in Houston. The only problem is it says "Package not due for delivery." Shlomo and I have now called their hotline four times. We have received the runaround four times. The first two calls, we were assured delivery today. Now, who knows.

I hate FedEx. And, don't even get me started on UPS. Just give us our sheep! The spot over the mantle is all cleared.

****************************UPDATE**************************

Shortly after the woman at FedEx told Shlomo that it would be hours before she knew anything more because it was en route from Houston to Sugarland (a suburb in the wrong direction), it was delivered to his office. I would take back every bad thing I said about FedEx, but those things are still valid. UGH!

Houston, We Have a Problem!

What a morning! I am at work...happily going about my business (okay reading the gossip columns on-line)...when I get a very dreaded email (that quite frankly I hope none of you ever receive). Telecharge sent an email to inform me that the Off-Broadway showing of Die, Mommie Die! which Shlomo and I had purchased tickets is cancelled. Of course, they would be happy to reschedule us for another showing.

Here's the deal. We had six shows scheduled for five days. Everyone knows that the theatre is dead on Monday, so you do the math. All I needed was to find another show that was playing at 10:00 on Saturday night and I would be set. There are no other shows playing at that time. That is why we had our tickets then...it did not interfere with the other shows we wanted to see.

We booked it at 3:00 on Saturday. My nerves about this exist on many levels. Our flight gets into La Guardia at 12:22. That gives us 2 and a half hours to go to baggage claim (I cannot do five days in New York in December and not check a bag...impossible!), hail a taxi into Manhattan, check into the hotel, grab a bite to eat, and be at the theatre. Shlomo is not the least bit worried. I say mark your calendar now. A blizzard will hit NYC on Friday, November 30.

I know that in the whole scheme of life this is not a real problem. No one is really hurt or dying...unless you count our good friends at Continental airlines if that flight is late.

A Good Day Goes Bad

Shlomo is out of town. (That's right, OM, he is in Phoenix until Friday.) I was doing fine dealing with this. I made an appointment for a massage and was all set to watch Private Practice and Dirty Sexy Money tonight. Quelle nightmare. Private Practice and Dirty Sexy Money will not be seen tonight so that ABC may bring you a special presentation of the stupid-ass Country Music Awards.

This perfectly good day now sucks. I am off to drown my sorrows in a bag of Twizzlers.

The Grammar of Rasp

Everyone has certain stories from their childhood that have become the "classics" of their lives. One of my favorites is when my brother Rasp was in the 5th grade or so. He was called on to conjugate "to think" into its past and past particple tenses. Rasp paused for a moment (or at least I imagine he did) and responded, "Think, Thank, Thunk." When you see the title of my new link section, you will now know why.

Sadly, his grammar has not improved much with age. I can say that. I wrote every paper he ever turned in. My wardrobe at the time was much better for my efforts.

Fly, Little Birdie, Fly!

I think I have vaguely mentioned before that Shlomo and I have finches. (It's kind of a long story as to how we got them, but the short version is that he wanted a kitten and I said how about some finches instead.) Currently, we have five in our expanding brood.

Earlier this week, we got a fantastic antique cage to house them in. It's very large (4 feet by 7 feet including stand...or so) and will house at least a dozen birds. I will post a picture of it at some point. On Monday night, we set up the new cage and moved the birds over. This went off without incident.

I think you are seeing where I am going with this. Last night, Shlomo had a meeting at the temple. One of the wicker nesting boxes was crooked in the cage and really bugging me. I took it upon myself to fix this eyesore. No problema...right? Wrong. I get a chair to stand in so I can open one of the little doors at the top of the cage. I climb onto said chair. I open the door, stick my arm in start adjusting the nesting box.

Finches are not like parakeets which you tame and walk around with them on your shoulder. They maintain their wildness. The fun in having them is to observe them in their habitat and admire their beauty. Arm in cage results in a fluttering of finches. The next thing I knew, little Kate or Spence (we cannot tell them apart) was fluttering around the hallway...outside the cage.

I tried to remain calm. (Tried: operative word.) I swear while standing in the chair, I almost plucked that thing from the sky, but shockingly the little bird was too fast for my slightly overweight self. Then, a potential miracle happened. It flew from the open hallway (which opens to the floors above and below) into the study. I leapt (although not in split leap fashion as it plays out in my mind) from the chair and rushed down the hallway to close the door thereby confining it to one room.

I gathered the net and was off to catch my bird. I crept into the room...looking around...determined to find my prey. Nothing. I could not find her. Then, I saw her...perched atop the ugly (sorry, Shlomo) faux bamboo tree. I casually walked in her direction. She took off across the room. Again, I sauntered to the other side. She took flight again. In disgust, I swung the net in the air in her direction. She disappeared. Much to my surprise, she was in the net.

I promptly took her to the W.C. (the smallest room I could think of), removed her from the net and returned her to the cage. I battled the bird and lived to tell the tale. I felt like a badass. If I believed in the slaughter of innocent animals, I would totally go hunting this weekend. Prey is nothing when I am on a mission. It should live in fear. Since I don't hunt, I will probably just buy a few more birds to fill the new cage.

Addict...Schmadddict

On the return flights from Israel, I started Peggy Guggenheim's (yes, those Guggenheims) autobiography Confessions of an Art Addict. It is so bizarre to read someone matter of factly say something to the effect of, "I decided to buy a painting a day to start my museum." (It might not be a direct quote, but it's damn close.) Since I mostly slept on the flights back, I am still reading the book which is kind of embarassing because it is less than 200 pages.

To make the story a bit more personal (possibly too personal), the book wound up where almost all books that I read eventually wind up...the bathroom. So as I am getting ready yesterday morning, I hear Shlomo from the W.C...."Sweetie," he questioned, "Are we art addicts?" I am not saying we are...and I am not saying we are not. I am saying that you have read the blog and seen pictures of recent purchases. We (meaning he) declared we were done long ago with art purchases. I have a feeling you have not seen the last of said purchases.

Well, it could be worse. I used to be addicted to soap operas. Should Genie Francis come back to General Hospital, I probably could be again. Soap operas are cheaper than art...maybe that would not be a bad thing.

On the 6

Okay, on her blog http://www.trishamatalynn.blogspot.com/, OM tagged me to list six things that you do not know about me or that are at least interesting. This is hard as I think I am kind of boring, but here goes...

1. If you ask me my favorite book, I would say East of Eden by John Steinbeck because it is a book I love and it sounds like you have to be pretty smart to read it. Actual favorite book: Dazzle by Judith Krantz. What can I say? I love all that Hollywood glamour. I have probably read it 10 times. It made me want to be a celebrity photographer. Hell, I still want to be a celebrity photographer. I suck at taking pictures. Speaking of Ms. Krantz, I wish she would write another book. It's been a while.
2. I have a huge fear of public nudity...not just my own...anyone's. I don't think I can really expand on that much further. Why can burkas not be fashionable for Jewish guys? Needless to say, I will not be going to see Naked Boys Singing when I am in NYC next month.
3. My dog Lulu is named after the only doll I was allowed to have as a little boy. She was a hand-me-down from my female cousin who is 9 years older than I. She had no clothes, a mass of matted blonde hair, and only one eye closed. I loved her.
4. I claim to love to cook. I actually love to cook. It's not a lie. Yet, I have not prepared a home-cooked meal in months. In fact, two burners on the stove do not even work. We have got to call a repair man...sometime in the next year or so.
5. I ate red meat about a year ago. (I have not eaten it for about 12 years.) We were at a cocktail party...the drinks were strong, all the food had flour (which I could not eat at the time) except the tamales. I had to sober up before dinner, so I ate a couple. I am not proud of this. And, my stomach was messed up for days. Damn my lightweight drinking.
6. I cannot stand Star Jones. However, I am oddly compelled to watch her and even went to her wedding website one time. One time? Who am I trying to kid? I had it bookmarked.

That's about it. I am supposed to tag blog buddies to do this. I really don't have blog buddies yet. I don't even know if I have six readers. If you feel compelled, post your six things in the comments section.

I'm Baaaack

Jet lag is hell. I am not going to lie to you. It is. I slept 10 hours last night and can still barely keep my eyes open. The trip was phenomenal. I promise to post details and pictures. However, it will take a few days for me to actually be organized enough to actually do that.

Okay, so I am gone for two weeks and Dancing With The Stars goes to hell in a handbasket. Marie faints. Jane has food poisoning. And, that Cheetah Girl is voted off...WTF America!?!?! WTF!?!?!

So Shlomo and I took it upon ourselves to boost the Israeli economy. We were definitely out of control. For example, this painting will soon be hanging over our mantle. I have named it "Lambo" after our pug Lulu's favorite toy. The artist is a famous Israeli painter/sculptor known for his paintings of sheep. This is just the tip of the iceberg...cufflinks...menorahs...Shabbat candlesticks...antique ivory tusks...we were seriously out of control.

I guess I should try to get some actual work done. I promise photos and details of the trip. I just need to recover slightly.

This Year in Jerusalem

Wow! So far, it has been an amazing trip. Things are going very well. I will have all the details when I get home and am not paying by the minute to use a computer.

She had me at masturbation

Last night I had the privelege to meet former Surgeon General of the United States Joycelyn Elders. She spoke at the Temple on healthcare as part of their annual lecture series. Prior to her speaking, Shlomo and I were invited to a dinner for her and were fortunate enough to sit at her table. She and I bonded during drinks over our shared native state. It's pretty amazing to say you are from BFE and have a Surgeon General know exactly where it is. She was passionate, articulate, honest, and funny. That is all you can ask for in a speaker.

While at the temple, several little old ladies (or LOLs as I like to call them) talked to me about what a great time I would have in Israel and how many times they have been, etc. I know this to be true, but my question is why do I have diarrhea just thinking about it? I am pretty sure this is God's punishment for my constantly singing my ode to the big D in the first grade...you know, some people think it's gross, but it's really good on toast... I was such the comedian.

I know it's ridiculous, but I am seriously going to miss my shows for the next week and a half. No Dancing With the Stars, no Desperate Housewives, no Ugly Betty, no Grey's, no Damages, no Brother's and Sisters...seriously...I know I should have bigger problems and I do have the DVR, but still. My only consolation is I have downloaded the first four eps of Gossip Girl to the iPod. Hopefully, I will like the show and will add it to my list of series. Honestly, what am I going to do without Weeds for two weeks? You may say it is just a gateway series, but I am addicted.

That's about it for now. I probably will not blog while in the Middle East. But, you can expect plenty of updates when I return on Halloween.

Et cetera, Et cetera, Et cetera...

Okay, I am swamped this week trying to get ready to go to Israel...work is hell...I have stuff every night...Shlomo is in Florida, so I have more to do than if he were here...so here it is fast and furious:

• I had a great post yesterday, but my boss walked up before I could post it and I lost it. Damn the company for expecting me to actually work.
• My painting finally arrived from Santa Fe on Friday. It looks amazing. It's odd when you get something that you never thought you would be able to own. I can still stare at it for an hour. I know I am a loser.
• Whatever happened to Natalie Merchant? A song of hers just came on my iPod. I miss me some Natalie.
• Dancing With the Stars seems to be getting it right so far this season. My hope is Mark Cuban is the next to go. I will be sunning myself/walking my feet off/dodging suicide bombers in the Middle East next week, so I will not know until later.
• If you are not watching Damages on FX, you should be. Glenn Close is her usual amazing self. Rose Byrne has proven equally adept at holding her own. I think there is a marathon on Saturday to catch up before the season finale on Tuesday. Buy your snacks and plop down on the couch. It is worth it.
• I saw the Jane Austen Book Club over the weekend. Cute movie. Emily Blunt is fantastic.
• Larry Craig...not guilty...not resigning...blah, blah, blah (or should I say tap, tap, tap?)...give it up. You got caught. Lies do not help any situation...except weight loss and how I look in my clothes.
• Chanukah came early as Shlomo gave me my present on Friday. It was a fantastic orange alabaster sculpture of a mobius heart that we had seen in Santa Fe. He gave it to me early to prevent himself from having to go in every gallery in Israel, New York, and even Houston to find the perfect thing to coordinate with the painting. It also made the fact that the Bayou City Arts festival had nothing of interest on Saturday a little more tolerable. On a side note, it will make it easier for me to force his present on him when it arrives in early November. I hate waiting for the actual occasion to open or give a present. I am such a child that way.
• New York in December...six plays in five days...we are out of control. At least it's a work trip for Shlomo...but it's all play (or plays) for me.

I guess that's all I have at the moment, I think I covered everything. I did not mention how disappointing the Finch/Canary show was on Saturday. Yes, we are big enough nerds to both go to and be disappointed by such a thing.

Israel is just around the corner. We all know what that means for my digestive tract. Well, at least I know OM knows what that means.

Isn't it Ironic? Don't ya think?

Am I the only one that sees the irony in the fact that George W. Bush led us into war where thousands of lives have been lost and Al Gore won the Nobel Peace Prize? I could go on with a bunch of statistics, but why? The first sentence says it all.

I hate my hair! I hate myself!

It's official. I have become one of those people I hate. Shlomo travels for business. A lot. This has always been the case since I have known him. My question is: why does it make me sad when I know he is not going to be home at night? We see each other all the time. Whether he is on the road or not, we talk or email 9 bazillion times a day. Why am I sad?

Before you start to feel sorry for me, I do have a very full life. He's gone tonight and I am having dinner with my friend Suz Somebody and getting a massage. It's not a hard life. Still, I hate that I have become this. I can be happy...I can be sad...it all depends on him. Vomit. Oh well, I guess it is love.

By the way, my hair is fine. I just remember when my brother Rasp was about five, he wanted curly hair. We don't have curly hair. After weeks of begging, my mother relented and used perm rods with no solution on his hair. She took them out, he glanced in the mirror, ran to his room and hid behind the toy box screaming, "I hate my hair! I hate myself!" It was much cuter given the fact that he could not say his Rs properly. We were not even able to get a picture. That would have been nice for blackmail later on. Although, given his current lack of hair, he might welcome said picture. Anywho, since then, when I am filled with self-loathing, we know what I proclaim.

Danke Shoen!

Wayne Newton is gone. Thank you. Enough said.

Cannonball Run

"Cannonball" (okay, "Creation"--the previously-mentioned preposterous purchase from Santa Fe) came today. Wow! A bronze sculpture really does make all the difference in our backyard. Of course, it kicked off yet another need to purchase something else. We had a fused glass mask hanging on the back fence. We determined that we needed another to really make it look right. Check it out...Myra will join the previously-procured Hettie on our back fence. Shlomo says we are "done." He always says that. I hope we are never "done" with the house. That is what makes it fun. Although, we are done with the yard and first floor for the most part.



When she comes, I will post a photo of the whole area. Until then, just imagine "Cannonball," a metal table and chairs, a palm tree, a bunch of bamboo, a jacuzzi, and a bunch of brick. I used to call it a jungle, but now I call it a "beautiful jungle" back there. I don't feel bad in saying that. We worked very hard to make it look good. Okay, we worked very hard to find a landscape company to make it look good.

Nerves and Nervousness

Our trip to Israel is in 11 days. I get diarrhea just thinking about it (a trait I share with my dear friend Ozzy's Mom...or as I will forevermore be calling her here...OM).

I think things are in order. Reservation for dog boarding? Check. Housesitter? Check (Thanks, M-Dawg!). Immodium AD in the meantime? Not yet, but desperately need it. Oy vey, I will keep you posted. In the interim, you know where I will be.

Should be arriving in 2043

Why is it that you purchase something, they promise it by a certain date, the date passes and you find out it hasn't shipped yet? Such is the case with my Roller Wilson painting. I admit I am not the most patient person in the world (but I am pretty damn close when it comes to you, Shlomo!). However, I don't think it is asking too much for someone to follow through on their promise when you are spending a lot of money in their gallery. It's not that difficult. Show is over. Crate the painting. Send the painting. It's what you do.

Julia Sugarbaker has now stepped down from her soapbox. Speaking of Ms. Sugarbaker, I cannot wait to see Dixie Carter herself in Arsenic and Old Lace at the Alley on Saturday.

Is JLo pregnant or not? Why do I care? I don't know why, but I do.

Painting should arrive on Friday or Monday. If I were a betting man, I would say Tuesday.

Phlegm, Phlegm, and more Phlegm

UGH! Since Tuesday, I have had the worst sinus infection. I am not saying it was Shlomo's fault, but he "got it first and I got it worst." Really, that is not true. I think his was worse because I started medication sooner than he did, so I seem to have rebounded faster.

One thing I discovered in my two day stupor away from the office is that daytime television has really gone downhill. I was the biggest soap fan. Now, they can barely hold my interest. The View is fine, but there are no sparks like there were last season...although Whoopi seems to do a good job at calling Elisabeth on stuff. I hate the Hasselbot. It's just my opinion, but I think people who are holier-than-thou evenutally find out they are not. I would be willing to buy a ticket to this downfall.

I did at one point find myself singing in bed, "When Cameron was in Egypt's land...let my Cameron go." If only my days off had had Ferris's inspiration.

Nut Farms and Sea Salt

First of all, Santa Fe was fantastic. Second, I just found out that Renee Zellweger is making a movie there. How did I not see her?

The exhibit was unbelievable. Shlomo and I spoke with Roller for about 10 minutes or so. He was very nice and really shared a lot with us about the show, his views on religion, Fayetteville, celebrity friends, and many other things. Honestly, I left feeling like I had talked with one of the most fascinating people I would ever meet. Crazy, but fascinating.

As part of the show, he had a friend from Fayetteville come in dressed as a nun (if nuns wore purple satin rather than black gabardine) and do a performance piece he had written about the characters from Brenda's nut farm.

Speaking of the characters from Brenda's Nut Farm, I have to say that seeing the painting I had purchased in person absolutely lived up to and exceeded my expectations. The detail on it (and on all the works) is amazing. In the lecture he gave Saturday morning, he described in detail his four-year-long process of preparing canvasses to paint. It shows in his work. They are the smoothest oil paintings I have ever seen. They truly are magical.

Now, speaking of Nut Farms, it sounds like Shlomo and I should find one of our own. In a weak moment, we purchased this for our backyard. It is an amazing bronze, but who do we think we are? I guess now I can refer to the back patio as the sculpture garden. Aren't we hoity toity?

We spent Saturday night up in the mountains at the 10,000 Waves Spa. I cannot stress strongly enough how good the massage was. It was preceded by soaking in a private tub surrounded by the mountains at dusk. Breathtaking. The herbal wrap was enjoyable (but, I am such a baby and had to keep my arms out the whole time!). But, the piece de resistance was the salt glow. I know it sounds bizarre that you would have warm oil poured over your body and then rubbed with sea salts. However, it was so relaxing. "Baby's Butt"...those are the only words that can be used to describe how soft my skin now is. I am sure that will all change in a week, but it will be one good week.

Maybe, I am Little Bit Country

Okay, on DWTS, I hate to admit it but I was most impressed with Marie Osmond tonight. I thought she did a fantastic job. Do I think she will win? Probably not. But, she and Jane will make it fairly far in the competition. Jennie Garth will improve. That Cheetah Girl will have tons of teenage fans calling in. It is probably looking better for the girls to make it further than the guys.

That said, sadly, I do not think tonight will be the last night of Wayne Newton. Simply put, he has legions of fans. While I think he should be the one go, it will be nice to see Cheryl stick around a while longer. My guess for tonight: Mark Cuban. Billionaire, yes. Fan base, no.

DWTS--Elimination

Okay, so I haven't had time to watch the actual show, but I saw where Model Girl was the first to go. I am not sad about that. I still have not watched the guys.

However, I did check out Private Practice and Dirty Sexy Money. Both have potential.

Santa Fe is tomorrow. Yippee!

Middle-Aged Music

Okay, I admit it. My musical taste tends to be decades ahead of my actual age. While my contemporaries were Jamming to the Pearl, sinking in the Hole, meditating to find their grunge-filled Nirvana, I always tended more to music of my parent's generation. I once heard Matthew Perry remark in an interview something to the effect that if you were a woman, under duress in any way, and sang about it, he would buy your album. That is pretty much true for me, but you also need to be over the age of 40 or preferably 50.

That said, imagine the sheer joy I felt today when I found out that at the end of April, Shlomo and I will be sitting 5th row center to see the Queen of Soul herself, Ms. Aretha Franklin. There seem no more appropriate words than, "I love you, ReRe!"

I have seen my share of my favorite performers...Barbra, Bette, Dolly, Emmylou, etc. However, Aretha's Gold is literally the first cd I ever bought. I think I know every word to every song on it. (That could partially stem from the fact that it was the only cd I had for about two weeks...captive audience!) I even purchased the cassette single (I know I am dating myself with that reference) when she sang Nessun Dorma as a pinch hitter for Luciano Pavarotti at the Grammys one year to universal acclaim. I found that she and I sang a lovely duet in my car.

Needless to say, this will be an incredible night for me. My expectations are high. In fact, I almost have diarrhea just thinking about it. I will spare you with my daily countdown until the show. For the record it is 213 days.

Do you know the way to Santa Fe?

I cannot wait until Friday. Granted, that is true every week, but this one is a rare exception. This Friday has been all I have thought about for months. I am going to the latest gallery opening of my favorite artist Donald Roller Wilson in Santa Fe. I have loved his work for gosh, about 15 years now. I have a few prints (okay, 4 of them). But, this is the first time I have ever been able to purchase an original work of his. It was a very extravagant purchase. Shlomo (my partner--not his real name) was very supportive of my doing so, however.

The link for the show is below. I won't say which one I bought, but if you know me it features a character with the same name of my great aunt and I am pretty sure I was called it on the playground on more than one occasion. Ah, elementary school...good times. It is also about the size of your typical photograph from an instant camera.

http://www.meyergalleries.com/santafe/show_details/152.asp

Dancing With The Stars

Okay, I admit it. I took ballroom dancing in college. It was my favorite class. Ever. As a result, I totally get sucked in to DWTS. Imagine my happiness that this is season premiere week. Here are my thoughts on the first night.

• Jennie Garth: looked beautiful and shows great promise. She seemed a bit nervous, but will do fine.
• Marie Osmond: annoying. That is from someone who was once convinced that he needed to buy one of her dolls of the QVC.
• Jane Seymour: I never watched Dr. Quinn, but that Medicine Woman was all style and grace. She is as old as my mother, but moves like a 20-year-old. Well done.
• Mel B: If you wanna be my lover...whatever. She was fine. Best-dressed. Probably got screwed by Eddie Murphy and this is her comeback consolation.
• Model girl: no strength in her body...no strength in her dancing. If it is not a guy, she will be the first to go. S-I-anora. (Not bad...Sports Illustrated reference from the gay boy!)
• Cheetah girl: (by the way...and same for model girl...if you are not a real celebrity, I don't bother to learn your name) She was very energetic and showed great skill with her Cha Cha Cha. But, "cheetahlicious" is not a word. Don't say it again.

Tonight: the men. I cannot wait to see Cameron Mathison--the original hottie with a body. And, I am oddly curious about Wayne Newton. His hair color is totally believable.

The World As We Know It

Today's musings:

• Amazingly, according to their President, there are no gay people in Iran. I am not quite sure how that could happen as pretty much 10 percent of all species in nature are in fact homosexual. I guess he found some cure for us all.
• Keifer Sutherland picked up on DUI...why do people who can obviously afford a cab insist on driving? Seriously, Keifer...take $20 and hire a cab. Your day as "young Hollywood" is long over. It's not cool.

Wow, I really seemed to have covered my homosexual agenda in my first post. Maybe I am more political than I realized.

It's a slow day at the office. All the bosses are gone. Not sad about that.