The Point of People, Dogs, and Children

The snow really started to come this weekend. It fell tentatively, but getting steadier, like it figured out despite all our loud words and cursing, we couldn't do shit about it. Camilla had a cookie party, and she invited literally like sixty people, which if that isn't holiday cheer dedication, I don't know what is. Every table surface in the house covered in cookies, cookies were falling out of the sky like the heavy snow flakes. As of yesterday evening, my net worth is a giant ziploc bag of cookies, and a pound and half of extra cookie dough sitting in my fridge, and 4 brand new tires which served their purpose well when driving back to Jere's house, and the road was guarded by shiny cops, local access only, all sheet ice and obstacle. Taking Jere's daughter A. anywhere is full of charm now, since she's all talking and understanding. Andrew picked her some snow covered sprigs of lavender, walking back to the blanketed cars, and she was all like "oh! Lavender!" and that's what it is, these moments of oh! Lavender! oh! Peanut Butter cookies! oh! Driedel!





Everyone is pregnant now, all of a sudden, well maybe just two of you. But soon there will be multiple little babies, and then children at parties, and the population of my circles is growing on it's own. The word breeding is taking on new meaning. Families, you are all families now. I am friends with whole families. That's wonderful and solid. I'll have entire photo albums full now of people and adventures, and someday when we are our parents we'll look back and remember the pictures our own parents showed us once of us as kids, running around the cookie party, leaving crumbs and crayons everywhere, with pretty young 30 year olds standing around in striped sweaters and bows in their hair, getting drunk, talking about bands and urban development. All those pictures are starting, this year.

So now there's you, and your other, and your baby, and your dog, and me I'm happy to be in the background in your pictures, happy to buy books for your daughters and teach them about gluten and try to find the seatbelts in the backseat of my car to strap them in.

This morning, after watching the softcore Sunday news with Jere's family, Andrew had us over for "civilized" brunch, where the bread and the rolls and the juice were all made by hand, and all of us disheveled and wandering. Meredith played art teacher and we made Christmas tree decorations in front of the fire, sipping press coffee, Mexican hot chocolate, trying to remember the names of Greek Gods for the crossword puzzle.

In past years, people had kids and it annoyed me. People had grown up jobs and houses, and it annoyed me, they got all responsible and boring and lame. It turns out that was because I didn't like those people enough. Because when people you really like get these things, it only makes them better. Interesting people only get more interesting when you move them through different scenes.

So the holiday season is here, and I'm happy with it, and I'm pretty much looking forward to your new babies and the dog I will get someday and fruitcakes and snow and candlelights and then muddy Spring and more summers with beaches and road trips. I want all of you to be so happy. And more importantly, there's no reason to worry you won't be. Good job all of you! Stay happy, and healthy, and beautiful, please.

Driving back home, Jere told A., curled up in the backseat, tired after a morning of chasing the dog in a cardboard christmas tree box, a fairy tale about himself and a sandwich shop. I'm going to try and paraphrase it, because I loved it so much. Father stories are the best.

"When I was young and poor, I lived above a sandwich shop. Every day I could smell the food below, and I told the shop owner I loved smelling the food because it was as good as eating it. The shop owner got mad at me, and took me to court. He told the judge "This man owes me money, for smelling my food." The judge asked, "How much money do you want?" The owner said "500 dollars, for all the sandwiches he would have eaten if he hadn't smelled them." The judge asked me "do you have 500 dollars?" And I said, "all I have is a little money. But I wouldn't give it to this man, because smelling is free." So the judge had me gather my money, and change it into coins. Then I poured out the change in front of the shop owner. And the judge said to him "This is what you get, the sound of money, which is the same as the smell of sandwiches."



PS: I just found out my friend's dog had to be put down this weekend. It seems horribly unfair that they should go through that, while I spent the weekend with happy healthy dogs. Goodbye Roscoe. I only met you once for the weekend, but you were lovely and happy and gorgeous and friendly. David, no dog could have asked to be treated better in his old age than the way you took care of him. You did everything the right way. I'm so sorry. Your dog was awesome.

See, I like your questions because it gives me a reason to feel useful at 2 am?

Okay, so I'm coming up to Cleveland soon for a wedding, can you suggest places for lunch and brunch? Thanks!:)

Oh brunch. Always a great source of aggravation for me.

Flying Fig has a great brunch. They have this amazing drink called a Hot Russian which is basically a White Russian with enough espresso in it to make you believe that maybe that dream you had only a few hours ago really was your great American novel, and also maybe you would like to go back to the hotel room, get more drunk and have more sex, because who cares its Sunday and you're half trashed already so fuck this reception. Maybe I should point out I mostly drink at brunch.

Or you could be cooler and less degenerate and go to Li Wah for dim sum.

As to lunch...lunch lunch lunch. I love LeLoLai's, which is a bakery not a restaurant. But the Cuban sandwiches are amazing, and the coconut macaroons are addictive.

The Beer Engine on Madison in Lakewood is great for slightly more interesting burgers and sandwiches. Bar atmosphere once again, but friendly. Like, where you go if you are a bartender in Lakewood and wake up at 3pm and need sustenance. Really great chips.

Sahara Restaurant on Lorain Ave is great Lebanese food. They open at 12pm. The waitresses are girls you wish were your best friends.

You'll notice these are all West Side places. Sadly, if I'm driving all the way out to the East Side for lunch, it's Hot Sauce Williams all the way.

What do you think of the Clash of the Titans remake?

I never saw the original so I don't have any nostalgia kicking in, or defensiveness.
I'm a fan of giant monsters and winged horses.

My only two worries are these:

1) 300 SUCKED as a movie. And I get real tired of special effects real quick if the plot doesn't hold up. I'm getting a 300 vibe from that whole glowing toga thing in the trailer.

2) Krakens are giant squid, which is terrifying. Squid have beaks, large nasty ones which make them resemble horrifyingly crazy mutant water emus.

I am EXTREMELY disappointed the Kraken, one of my favorites, has no beak and in fact looks like it needs dentures. Shark teeth? Really? Teeth are not imposing on a large creature unless they are huge and defined. BEAKS are huge.

I will totally be going to see this with The Boy. But my expectations will be low.

Write a poem

Beginnings

Once upon a time
In a galaxy far far away
On a distant shore
It was a dark and stormy night
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times

A screaming comes across the sky
This is the saddest story I have ever heard
It was a wrong number that started it
Through the fence
124 was spiteful
I am a sick man . . . I am a spiteful man
There was a boy called Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it.

The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel.
The cold passed reluctantly from the earth,
It was the day my grandmother exploded.
Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way

It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen
The mechanical unicorn opened it's eyes.

Do you believe artificial sweeteners/preservatives are ruining our bodies and lives? (paraphrased because formspring ate the question, with obviously no concern for FDA regulation)

The first time I read Upton Sinclair's The Jungle, there was one single little sentence that stuck with me. It made the most impression on me, shining past all the other poverty death destruction despair ect.

"How could they know that the pale blue milk they bought around the corner was watered, and doctored with formaldehyde besides?"

See, you say "Um, because it was blue?" But you also say "how stupid to think sticking leeches on you would cure a disease!" and then you eat an apple that's been genetically engineered to stay crisp for thirty days. Cheese that comes pre-shredded and pre-colored. Butter that isn't butter. Or you fry some salt and preservative infused turkey in your non-stick Alzheimer pan, while in the microwave your rice in a bag with flavoring is steaming away. You rub aluminum play-doh smelling salts into your lymph nodes and smear your lips with paint that smells and tastes like air freshener. And later you'll breathe in traffic and smog through your windows like you have every day of your life, while you wipe down every surface in your house with a powerful disinfectant that isn't harmful to your cats at all, promise.

I have it on good authority alcohol kills lots of other things. In addition to hope, I mean. Just saying.

Ask me anything