Always been as much of an early adopter as my bankroll and credit lines would allow, but age is catching up there with me as number one son now regularly cleans my clock at Madden and NHL on the Xbox, and apparently I slow him down on Halo missions. That said, a friend's facebook posting about a $100 Plasma tv set had me thinking.

Anyway, it happens, I think I'm losing a step. I was watching a discussion about Nooks versus Kindles via twitter the other day with a little bit of interest. I've always been a pretty avid reader, but I'm loyal to the printed page and that will remain, but....

My final christmas gift arrived yesterday. My son's lovely mom imparted a Kindle on to me. It's a straight forward reader, which is good as I don't need another data port at this rate, but as somebody who rarely needed the directions for gizmos, I found I was looking for some directions (a first). With a little futzing and learning where the buttons are, I had two books that I was curious about, but not enough to buy loaded up at nice discount prices.

So, it's a noble experiment, figured out how to work it all in the privacy of my living room, reducing the silliness of figuring it out in front of, well, my tech savvy kids.

So far? Kinda cool. Don't think it will get in the way of any real book store purchases, but might digitally get my arse to the library a little more.

It's a silly debate and the foot dragging on the legislative side makes my head shake. Only here can we make a federal case over "Rocket Sauce"

Able to leap a split coke in a single bound, look up in the Aisle, it’s Usherman!!

Nope, despite that dramatic intro, I left work today for the part time fun in my First Niagara Center finery to work the Sabres-Senators game. As far as supplemental income, it’s pretty great, you don’t have to work terribly hard. No heavy lifting, just know where the bathroom, the people watching is hilarious, and there are other people who’s job it is to escort the overserved and unruly away from the premises.

Now, the bulk of the force is pretty established, many having been working events since the Aud, so with just 35 or so over the past year, I’m a bit of a newbie, but just established enough to get some decent spots, always get to see the event in question as some folks get a door. Me, I’d be scared the door might just be smarter than me so it is good to be doing what is roughly a bit of stand up act for a thousand people except on a one to few basis. So, I get a good spot tonight.

My regular vocation has me well-schooled in the art of the schmooze and that comes in handy as you get folks of all sorts. With tonight’s game, it was premo territory, where the Sabres would shoot twice and one of the big questions was were was there regular guy along with “good to see you again” as I had worked the same post a couple of weeks ago. Head usher swings by and give me a quick “you look tired.” Told her I had a full day of real work prior, but I’m ready and with that the doors open.

But the people watching. There is a almost cult like following to the warm up skate before the hockey game. Fans of all types line the entrances from the dressing rooms to the ice in a hope of getting close to a favorite player or a fist bump as they enter or exit the ice. This makes sense if you are an little boy seeing your heroes or a teenage girl with a crush, but the guys my age looked a little silly. The folks who wander down just to have a look before retiring to their seats at the top of the Arena make sense to me. You want to see them a little closer to remind you they are human as it does look like a different game from various levels of the place. It is hard not to smile at the little kids who come down the tunnel with their eyes as wide as saucers, seeing the place they’ve only previously seen on television. By the same token, slap that expression of wonder on a 40 year old face and it is downright hysterical. But, with a nod to good karma, I found a puck that had gone over the boards and was able to give it to a little guy who has a really bitchin’ object for show and tell.

I enjoyed chatting with two guys from the exotic land of Akron, Ohio. We bonded over the shared ancestral homeland and their first hockey experience. I brokered a seat swap on behalf of a guy with a prosthetic leg, connected with a bunch of folks on the need for hockey manners, especially waiting for the break in the play to let people return down the aisle, and with a rotating band of participants held sporadic roundtables on which Sabres would you trade. While folks were either decked out in Sabres garb or the occasional evil doer in Senators garb, there were a few who just grabbed was available. And for that I have to give mad props to the gentleman sporting the California Golden Seals jersey. That was old school as I think the Seals went out existence somewhere prior to my turning 10.

Much has been written of late about the Sabres game presentation of late. When you think of all the time honored chants of everything from “Let’s Go, Buffalo” to “1,2,3,4, we want 5″ to even “Hey Seymour, we want cheeseburgers” they all popped up when the Sabres were winning. That solves a lot. When the team is in a prolonged slump like they are, the building gets a little quieter, the music selections lame and more intrusive and the Carruba Collision isn’t a great idea when one of the colliders gets hurt. When the Sabres held a 2-1 lead, the place was jumping. Then the team started to get pushed around by the Senators. When Drew Stafford went to sleep on Ottawa’s winning goal, nobody remembered or cared what crappy pop songs got played.

Been trying to find some cool tunes to get into holiday spirit and this one certainly qualifies. It's one of my favorites

Broke out the winter coat last night for a trip to the movies and this little bit from Mystery Science Theater 3000 (a favorite show of mine) appeared on my mental remote control

Ain't that some shit

It's a Love Hate sort of thing, me and this holiday season, that is.

I guess it is such a dominating thing, that you can't help but think about what was. I always fret a little over doing the right amount for my kids. It always works out, but the self-inflicted stress over doing that and the imagined comparisons to the seeming magic tricks that my folks used to work annually for me and my siblings makes my head hurt sometimes.

Perhaps if it didn't try stealing Halloween's thunder on the shelves of Target and Wegmans (I'm sure there are others), Christmas wouldn't seem so looming. While I really would like to give the season the big old sloppy kiss it seems to command, a little pause comes. I sometimes get a little sad over the divorce and what those circumstances have done mostly to me, and how that makes you (well, me) pretty much everything. The demands of the office secret santa, the adopted family, the board functions, decorating for members, and the dreaded office party (I'm skippin) can make my chest feel tight sometimes. The office party--nothing like the parade of significant others to reinforce the sense of holiday bumhood. Dating life is picking up a bit, but not enough to subject anybody to the coworkers.

So, this isn't a currier and ives, rah, christmas post, but I'm still in favor of it, just have a bit of tom waits and bourbon where the unicorns and rainbows ought to be.

It really made me feel Thanksgiving got screwed in the holiday pecking order. I felt bad for the people who had to go report for work at 10:00 that night, because I'm pretty sure that if the stores opened for holiday shopping at 10:00 a.m. on Friday, people would still shop.