Had one of our big benefit parties for my office on Thursday night. It seemed to go pretty well. We were all still speaking on Friday, so I guess that is a good sign.

The staging of those things is always a project. We spent all day Thursday getting ready, along with a chunk of Wednesday, so it is a project. This year's was even more of challenge as I took a rare fall (for me) in front of the ex's house on Tuesday night. It was one of those wind knock you out, what did I smack my head against, just how big is the bruise gonna be specials.

Even better in front of the kids, I have a sneaking suspicion number one son saw me go. Couldn't him to admit it.

So with a bruise on my shoulder blade that resembled Italy and one that resembled my pocket knife on well, where my pocket would go, we spent a day and an a half prepping for a the party. It looked fun. I have a tendency to spend those events looking for problems. You get the occasional fun moment, but it is mostly making sure everything is moving.

Seemed to go well. Spent a large part of this weekend sleeping with aided my recovery along with the occasional elixirs, Sleemans, jack, etc

But not necessarily any wiser....

47 years ago, Monday, the Beatles arrived, I waited until a day later.

Nothing reminds you that it is anything but a milestone when you get notified that the child is throwing up. Instantly, the morning at home coffee tastes slightly like the swill at the office and the delight of the digital greetings generated by Facebook and a few well-meaning bots during the overnight get dampened a little with the reminder that even though I took off, as a parent you are never really off.

So, as I sip the evening’s ale, cleaning out some random notes as I head a little closer to grumpy old man hood.

I, like at lot of hockey fans here, have been following the gossip leading the Buffalo Sabres‘ new owner. Out of the hullabaloo and the questionable practices of recent months, I have an admiration for Lindy Ruff as a stand up guy. He wouldn’t slip any contract extension under the public relations wire. That is a nice show of integrity that combined with Mr. Pegula’s supposed Cup desires might make Buffalo desireable for free agents and guys with Kaberle-like no trade agreements. It does kind of stink to see Rene Robert upset with the club, Don Luce and Craig Ramsay succeeding in other colors, and one of the hottest GM possibilities, Rick Dudley, landing elsewhere.

I’m not really concerned that the national anthem got a little butchered at the Super Bowl. I don’t think it was intentional, stuff does happen. The bloated faux patriotism of reading the Declaration of Independence by football folk past and present seemed rather shallow.

I never been huge fan of the remastering of classic albums. I’ve picked up a few a long the way, but I’m not enough of an audiophile to always pick up on the subtleties. The packaging and production is getting pretty elaborate. When the anniversary remaster of Bruce Springsteen‘s “Darkness on the Edge of Town” was announced. I was really intrigued because there was a lot of there there, so to speak, but not enough to justify the $80 price tag. Well, gift cards are good things as with the aid of amazon largess, only $30 will bring that home to me. Got to buy yourself a present sometimes, ya know.

I’m shocked, shocked I say that Hassan was found guilty. Yes, that is sarcasm dripping off your screen. If anything the local version of “trial of the century” was a nice demonstration on how accused should probably think twice about representing themselves. I am a little relieved that all the media folks can go cover something else.

Go see the Skiffle Minstrels play sometime. Try to have a bad time, you can’t do it, I dare you. You’ll be in a good mood by the end of “All Night Diner.” If you aren’t tapping something at the very least, then I’m pretty sure you need a check up.

You never have to check tire pressure on a warm day, it’s always days like today where the wind is blowing and your gloves are just bloated enough to ensure you got remove ‘em. One of Murphy’s laws that makes me want to smack Murphy with a bag of hammers.

I’ve been checking on the Sabres game while writing this and coverage on the Versus network is still headache inducing, including Tampa-rooting announcers. That just seem wrong on a number of levels.

Yeah, 47…the new 37.