Last week I sat in the car at Willie's and noticed an old timer walking with a cane, severely limping. It was terrible weather, icy, snowy, and honestly this teetering man looked like he could yard sale at any moment.

I opened the car door, stepped outside and yelled out to him "Hey! Are you okay? You need some help? Can I open the door? Anything?" but he refused the help I offered to him. He was struggling to move for God's sake and I hated seeing that knowing I could help.

In my eagerness to help, I wonder if I insulted the man. If you think about what might matter most to someone with mobility issues, maybe the answer is the independence and freedom that comes with the ability to get around, no matter how difficult. Maybe that mattered to him a heck of a lot more than wanting to end the misery involved with struggling to get into the store.

Well, I'm in that phase again where I tend to start to write an entry only to discard it. I can't decide what to write about or to what degree. No outpouring of affection or what is bothering me here today. Mostly I am just exhausted.....

I got new kitchen knives - hooray!
I still don't have the cutting board I want.
I still need a new pan. The one I have is shite.
Josh found my iPod - again, hooray!
Now I can't decide what to put on my iPod.

I'm glad Anthony Bourdain traveled to Buffalo. I wonder what he thought when confronted with Middle America. Middle America, and the people in it, don't seem to me to be subjects for which an aging NYC hipster might have an appreciation beyond bemused tolerance. For the record I love his show, and we share some common loves (some might call them vices) but something seems fishy. Maybe I'm wrong but I think the Rust Belt stuff from someone in his position is going to be cringe-inducing.

Well, I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas. Josh and I made it to Jamestown and back in one piece, mercifully, as we did not know how well maintained the roads would be on Route 60. All is well, everything is good, except I still must get to Southern Tier so I can pick up the Oak Aged Ale Cuvee #1 again, which was just an awesome beer, but is severely overpriced outside of the brewery.

I would also like to announce that Tito the deer has indeed been converted to delicious sausage, steaks, chops, a roast, and other assorted goodies. My father took the venison loin, which I am absolutely dying for, and everyone knows how little I care for food in general (historically speaking) so that should say something about how much I want that tender loin. With a recipe like this I bet it is just amazing. I want to go out for a good meal sometime.

I got a little bit of money for Christmas, but I don't really much want for anything. At least that is what I tell myself. Anyway, I never ask for gifts. I've never really thought about how easy or hard it is to shop for me although I've had girlfriends that have ad-libbed magnificently (I still love my Chelsea FC blanket, and I do recall some awesome stripteases and dressups). I don't know what I want for dinner let alone what I want for gifts. Cash is nice because I can always say that I bought something useful with the money whether it's truthful or not.

I've been thinking of a wants/needs list and this is where it stands:

Wants

---

- New iPod to replace my (probably) lost one.
- A good enough car deck to plug in an iPod.
- Sirius Satellite Radio
- Belgian beer chalice, preferably Westmalle or St. Bernardus, although many of them are very nice. Something sturdy.
- Blu Ray player
- A decent Dolby 5.1 system - nothing outlandish, but it has to have HDMI inputs and hopefully an iPod dock for a future iPod.
- Music Blu Ray discs, concerts, shows (fuck movies).
- A decent table top or desk top radio for my bedroom. Digital, with high quality AM/FM/Shortwave reception, with an alarm and an iPod dock.
- One bottle of high quality bourbon. Something really good.

Needs

---

- New clothes of all kinds. I hate shopping
- A legitimate knife set, a good set that will last
- A legitimate cookware set. Again, stuff that will last
- Legit Wine Glasses, Champagne Glasses
- New cutting board
- Sheet pans, other things that aren't covered by the cookware set
- Cooking classes so I know what to do with my new kit. For some reason, as long as I can recall I've wanted to learn Spanish cooking and go to Spain but suffered from low confidence due to earlier cooking mishaps.
- Probably some new living room furniture and decorations. Oh god, people, I need help, I have no eye for style. More than one girl has told me I need a female touch. I always say, "You're not kiddin"

• THE BOTTOM LINE - WHAT WINS? ***

What out of all of this do I want the most? The Blu Ray player and stereo system, of course. I'm a guy. Oh, and the bourbon is second by a thousandth. I think I might be reasonable and get the cookware and the bourbon, or maybe the clothes and the bourbon, still allowing for some very moderate irresponsibility, waiting unti Blu Ray players are reasonably priced.

Merry Non-offensive, Non-denominational Miscellaneous Holiday to you! I have to admit I've been feeling more Grinch than Whoville citizen due to some unfortunate circumstances in this past week.

We Fuck You For Your Patronage

First of all, the 2008 Grinch of the Year Award goes to the multiple time recipient, the owner of the parking lot across the street from Blockbuster on the 700 block of Elmwood Avenue. On Sunday evening there was literally nowhere to park, with whatever spaces available in the neighborhood either taken by cars that nobody cared to dig out, SUVs, or unreasonably high snow that we all saw trapping vehicles, sometimes for hours.

You would think that given the holiday season, and the unbelievable circumstances, a guy could park overnight so he can actually make it to work the next day. Oh no, they didn't ticket me, they had my car (and probably a few others) towed. It took around $200 total to get to South Buffalo to get my car back and released, not to mention the lost hours and productivity. There is no mercy with the fucking asshole who owns the lot, so I'm not feeling too merciful when describing the character of someone who would treat neighbors this way.

You, owner of the Globe lot, are the most hideous, shameless, embarrassment of a person imaginable. You treat neighbors as pests to be removed, and you kick people when they're already down. What's even more shocking is that you don't know enough to be ashamed by what you did to people in what everyone knows are very difficult circumstances. It's a good thing I have a decent job and can absorb the $200. God forbid I was a single working mother who would then have to sacrifice someone's Christmas. You deserve nothing but sickness, hate and misery this Holiday season, you wretched, black hearted, small minded, loser of a pseudo-human being. I recommend some form of chemical castration for you because these values should never be passed on.

I would recommend to my neighbors to never patronize Globe Market, Blockbuster, Spot Coffee, and New World Record (which by the way is dead, you fucking idiot) as the sign says but we all know that just won't happen. A simple FUCK YOU will have to suffice, as well as a public statement of disgust, which is oh so richly deserved.

Revoke All Buffalo Driver Licenses NOW

Anyone go to the Airport yesterday? If you did, you would have seen people lining up parked just before the arrivals, blocking off a lane meant for arrivals through traffic. A free cell phone waiting lot, part of the airport complex, was created specifically for people to sit and wait for people to arrive so they don't emulate the behavior of these knuckleheads.

Given that it is an established fact (ask Josh) that Buffalo drivers are among the worst in the country even in great conditions, what do you do when they insist on shithead behavior like this, screaming by at 65 MPH on an icy/slushy road, or blowing by everyone waiting in a lane so they can merge, skipping everyone? Anyone who has merged onto the 33 from the 198 knows this ignorance. Enough is enough, the citizens of Erie County simply cannot be trusted behind the wheel. Driving is a privilege, not a right, and it's time for everyone to prove that they deserve to be a driver.

Passing everyone on the right, just so they can merge ahead, skipping everyone else - that should cost you money and points. Driving recklessly fast in bad conditions should cost you money and points. Double parking, points and money. Riding someone's ass, money and points. Basically, any act of driving that is abnormally obnoxious and either inconveniences someone unnecessarily or could potentially endanger someone should cost someone dearly. I'm afraid only severe punishment in this case will bring about positive change and correct everyone's behavior.

For God's sake people, shake yourselves! This is a first world nation for now, start behaving like it.

Well, allegedly taxes could go up on clothing, gasoline, and in a number of other areas because our state government leadership cannot set real priorities or even understand first grade mathematics. Only in government can a budget be called a values document. We have some real numbskulls in local government.

Tax hikes on clothing, gasoline (indexed to the price of gas), cigarettes sold on reservations, local cash drives...er....property reassessments, SUNY tuition hikes. State and local government do a bang up job giving the working man a break, let alone people on fixed incomes. The talk is about people "paying their fair share" who already get roto-raped by the State. Oh, and how about rules put in place to require new license plates, thus triggering more revenue? They can't fuck you enough.

Any chance we'll get a break if and when we ever pull out of this stinking mess? I'll go ahead and safely guess that they'll do what they've always done - fail to adapt, fail to prioritize, shift blame for an upstate exodus and a shrinking tax base onto someone else. Our deficit is projected to get worse, not better, yet they treat necessary belt tightening as if it is torture. If I didn't know any better, I'd think they are purposefully trying to push people out of the state.

PS - PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE NYS don't repeat the same lie about a cigarette tax hike being about my health. NYS doesn't want anyone to quit smoking - it is too profitable.

So, President-elect Obama will reportedly offer Israel a "Nuclear Umbrella" in the event that Iran strikes it with a Nuke. Anti-semites the world over are fuming. I have to say I'm surprised by this development. I thought Obama's typical response would be to bend over and spread 'em wide. I hope not - Medvedev is practically smirking at us.

I guess this is where I think it is going to go if Obama does make this offer - The Russians will agree to protect Iran from an Israeli attack, if they have not already, or make some other aggressive move. There will come a time when Israel doesn't ask our permission to protect themselves - they have already drawn up plans, as militaries tend to do, to handle any contingency.

Now the way news works lately is that it ends up in the media before the media even checks their facts, so it wouldn't surprise me to hear later that Obama never agreed to any such thing.

Well, no lie, the Festivus Pole is going up in the Washington State Capitol. I have to admit I can't completely divine the motivation. Is it there to point a finger at the Nativity, is it there to mock that sign, or is this "private citizen" making a point about the Governor's policy? Regardless I laughed out loud when I heard the news this morning. The irony is delicious.



How about that Illinois Governor? Fitzmas comes early! The miasmic little bastard currently is en route to an "unknown location" - hopefully a dark prison cell but maybe I'm being a little presumptuous. How does not one stare, mouth agape, when the allegations against him and the juicy tidbits have been heard? The Conservatives already are trying to tie the guy to Obama as it pertains to the selling of the Senate seat. Interestingly enough, David Axelrod now says he was "mistaken" when he said previously that Obama had spoken to Gov. Blablabla about the Senate vacancy. Honestly, I don't think you need to cover a non-issue, David, it's a little goofy to be afraid of the Cons on this. The article is dead on, refusing to bribe is not a crime!



Thank God we have, finally, I think, a decent Governor. What's the hubbub over Gov. Paterson saying "When you go black you never go back" at a dinner where media usually isn't allowed, where people roast each other, where things are off the cuff? I really don't care. The Governor's a cutup, who knew? I'm pretty sure you have to be dead to be a saint these days, right? I'll take being able to deliver a good joke over that haute-whore indulging behavior of Spitzer 10 times out of 10.

't-go-back/

Am I ever ready for an effete, socialist European beverage! Today my brain has been about as efficient and effective as the NYS government. Heh, well, maybe I should give myself a little more credit than that, I have gotten some things accomplished today.

I don't get it. My diet lately consists of cigs, pricey beer, various pasta, bread, chili, diet Peach wedge. I got on the scale at my Uncle's and it said 160. I had to verify the measurement at Jerry's house. I haven't been 160 since high school, and now Jerry is heavier than me which has never been the case. I don't think I'm sick or anything.

Some time ago (e:Drew) encouraged everyone to write about their hero. There has never been any doubt about who that is for me, but I've hesitated because I feel like nothing I write could ever be good enough. I'm inspired tonight so I want to talk to you about the man who gave me a chance in life - my grandfather Jack Larson.

Exerpt from the USS Rich DE695 Wiki Page:

On June 8th, 1944, at approximately 09:20, when the USS Rich was about 300 yards (300 m) from the minesweeper Staff, which was in the process of taking USS Glennon in tow, a mine exploded 50 yards (50 m) off Rich's starboard beam. This tripped circuit breakers, knocked out the ship's lighting, shook up the ship hard, and knocked sailors off their feet, but caused no structural damage.

Three minutes later, a second mine went off directly under the ship. Approximately 50 feet of her stern was blown off, from frame 130 aft, just aft of the 1.1-inch mount in 'X' position. Even though the blown-off stern section caught fire, survivors clung to her wreckage, and it sank shortly afterward.

A third mine, another influence mine, exploded below the ice machine room forward, delivering the final blow 2 minutes later. The forward section was totally wrecked, the flying bridge demolished, and forward fire room severely damaged, and the mast came crashing down. Life rafts were ordered cut loose, and Rich was ordered abandoned. A few minutes later, she sank. Of her crew, 27 were killed, 73 wounded, and 62 missing; in all, 91 were killed outright or died of wounds following their rescue. Rich was the only American destroyer escort lost in the invasion force.

I've spent countless hours wondering what went through his mind when the Rich was destroyed. You're 18 years old, disoriented, many of your friends are dying or dead, you are blown off of your ship, you see a floating hand with a ring, you wonder if your time has come.

Jack bore the scars of the war for his entire life, his back littered with shrapnel wounds and gouges in his flesh, but he also learned the traits that earned his generation the title "Greatest". Having come from a very, very poor family in Pennsylvania, and going through this experience, he had a strong sense of family, of sacrifice, of loving your neighbor and community, things that were the products of hardship and shared suffering.

One of the things I admired most about Grampa was his work ethic. I'll never forget the early mornings, the metal lunch pail, the smell of coffee, the thermos, the simple eggs and toast (he liked the eggs with lots of pepper). He was a millwright, a proud Union blue collar man who worked himself to the bone for over 35 years, getting up early every day to give his family the best life he could provide. When he was away from work he always had to be working on something outdoors. I used to joke that he would rake the sidewalk if it meant he could be productive. In his old age he would volunteer at WCA hospital, serving meals and pushing wheelchairs.

The most precious thing in life to Jack Larson was his family. Although he already had done a great job raising sons of his own, his work ethic, the sense of sacrifice, and something I can only describe as unconditional love led him and my grandmother to take in two babies whose mother had left them. I can't imagine being in your fifties and starting the parenting process over again from scratch. You're near retirement, you've done enough already, and this is the time you are supposed to enjoy the fruits of your labor. No, not for Jack, he never got the ride into the sunset. There was more to do.

So in a way Jack became a father again. I had the best childhood a kid could ever ask for, something that may never have come if not for his generosity. Favorite memories of mine are the times on the weekend when he would bring sweets from Ecklof's Bakery for us to eat while we watched Sesame Street, and when he would deputize us, driving us around to help take care of the falling leaves and brush. Josh and I were the happiest kids in the world. If we weren't laughing we were sleeping. It took me so many years to realize we weren't a burden, but instead his greatest joy.

How do you thank someone for sacrificing their golden years to give you a decent shot at life? It hit me during my freshman year at UB that my grandparents wouldn't be around forever. You can call them at the moment, you can thank someone, you can tell them you love them, but there isn't anything you can do to justify your position, something that makes you thankful but also fills you with grief at times.

Jack was a tough son of a bitch. He suffered through diabetes, lieukemia and heart disease. When he was dying I remember sitting down and looking into his eyes. Jesus Christ, nobody deserved to suffer less than him. His eyes were yellow, lifeless, and I started thinking about whether he could see or hear or understand. You start thinking about the supernatural. This was the first real loss I ever had to come to terms with. I had a girlfriend at the time that I loved dearly, I had a great job, and he saw me happy which I hope comforted him. I held it together until during the funeral when the military people brought his flag, after which I cried until I couldn't breathe. Things had come full circle.

I think I've learned that the only way to justify your existence, and the way to thank someone like this is to not waste the opportunity you've been given. During my Blue Period, when I couldn't (wouldn't) get off the couch I remember looking at the flag from his grave, the only material possession I care about. You CANNOT throw away something that someone else worked himself to death to achieve. He saved me after death. He lives on through me, and anything good I can say about myself comes from his example.

If you are willing to extend your hand, and if you can sacrifice part of yourself, not even everything like Jack Larson did, you can impact someone far greater than you realize. If I end up being a fraction of the man my grandfather was, I think I'll be a fine man indeed.