One of my staff is satan. She has equated not being a meat eater to being healthier in a holier than thou sort of way. While I certainly respect that dietary choice and have cut down siginificantly in my own consumption, avoiding the red meat is a dietary choice, not divine provenence. She has been sick in some form or another since November. I, ultimately being a good guy, gave her a ride to work last week. My reward for a good turn was to begin wishing for my own demise. In her "Superior" way to us carnivores, she passed along some bug that felled the other staffer, me, our Business VP and our overall boss. My direct report might be down for the count by the time anybody reads this. If my kids get it, I may just have to kill her

I've been fighting that bug for a few days now. It kept me from some of my son's birthday festivities and wrecked a guest dj gig for me over the weekend. Damn thing felt like brochitis. Given the lack of return for the drugs I had on hand, it was time to quit fooling around. I went and got myself checked out this morning. Drove over and walking up to the entrance. two employees were smoking right at the door. Jerkasses!! Move away from the fucking door as my respiratory functions are already messed up.

After the obligatory hour wait and the surprisingly happy note that my weight and height are getting along, the good doctor who sounded alarmingly spot on like Apu prescribed me my first z-pack. It's already making some progress. I'm sure having an idea as to what is going on and a map to follow help in the healing process. I tried working yesterday and when standing up at my desk made me utter a very eloquent "Whoa," I knew it was time to surrounder completely. Been a long time since any type of illness has knocked me so on my ass like that. The dearth of decent daytime tv made me want to slap my sickly staff with a strip steak even more. Thank fuck for my dvr and miracles that is an xbox.

My Dad called me earlier to say that mom has successfully beat back her ailments that had her on prednizone, insulin and other whatnot. That really is terrific news, but what came out was "Dad, that is cough, sputter, wheeze, cough, awesome! She must be cough, hack, cough, pound, be really cough,cough, thrilled."

This to shall pass. Drink your juice, kids

Lil devil turns 10 today (Crap I'm old)

I went out on a semi-blind date in November and it went okay. About a day and half later, I got a note from the other party explaining that she had a nice time, "but...wanted to concentrate on another relationship."

I did call previous to this and that made me wonder. I believe I even journaled about it previously. Essentially I was being test driven. Afterwards, I felt more played that anything else. That kind of sucked to hear, but I wished her well via email and soldiered on.

This week, out of the reasonably clear blued sky, I get a email from her saying, "Well, I'm suddenly single again and am exploring my options and thought I'd see how things were with you. Maybe you'd be up for a glass of wine somewhere"

I got to admit. I'm a little stuck. She's an attractive, well-read sort and we gradually got along okay, but part of me is thinking if I didn't warrant a second look in November, what changed. In essence, I have the lil devil on one shoulder telling me, go, what could a drink or two hurt. That lil angel is saying watch out dude, since you weren't a on the radar, you might not really be on there.

I'd like to trust my gut on this one, but lately my gut has shit for brains.

My Ipod is a very schizophrenic place. I listen to a little bit of everything. Everything from Sonic Youth to Billie Holliday to the National (thanks Jenks) to Eric Clapton and back again. But there are some signposts that become iconic in your musical lexicon. I've never been too concerned with being cool, mostly because I was never very good at it, especially when it came to tunage. Listen to what moves you.

In my early teens, it seemed like everybody has a copy of Hotel California, Rumors, Led Zeppelin number 2 and 4, Who's Next, you get the idea. When I was 13, 14 is when I started venturing to shows and the first significant one I attended was when Bruce Springsteen played Shea's Buffalo (I know this was before most of you were born for as (e:Drew) pointed out recently, I am really old). It was one of those holy shit evenings. I had two one or two other shows at that point and they were fun. My best friends big brother knew somebody so somehow the four of us were in the third row off to the right hand side of the stage. No opening act, just three and a half hours of musical bliss. You walked away going, "Okay, I get it now. They should all be like this." I was sold, that undescribable something something played out in front of me. I had a used copy of Born to Run that I liked a little but seeing it live sealed the deal. Got Darkness on the Edge of Town when it came out the following week and never looked back.

When he came back two years later to play the Aud, we returned. Same thing at the beginning of the hype for Born in the Usa and so on. I don't make a big effort to make repeated viewings. Other favorites like REM and U2, I've seen three times but I didn't do much work. Either Bruce's records have come around at the right time in life to nudge me to the shows or the shows themselves have fueled interest, or the occasional, now increasing amount of downloadable boot legs have made it a prequisite to see where things are when the man comes to town. I know that's not cool, but fuck you, do I mock the amount of Journey you have on your cd shelf. See, bugger off then.

So, it's a little bittersweet. I went to the last show he did at HSBC arena and had godawful tickets, only to have a "Man in black" come up and to my party and relocate us to the front row on one side of the stage. How you can not like that? When he played Darien Lake, I nearly went without, only to find Ticketmaster releasing good seats the day of the show, so off I went. I go with the trust the art, not the artist. Actually did meet the man at a book trade show(?), bought him a beer and we chatted for a few minutes about the Yankees for a few moments (see, I'm not starstruck, just have favorites) before mutually moving on.

I blame the bittersweetness on my automobile. I had to deal with over $800 in car repairs since January, an automotive clusterfuck of epic proportions. So, the discretionary income, which is never large, took a huge hit. First ticket price I paid was $5.00. This year's price was 95.00. Given car repairs and the upcoming birthday mad rush, I had to say no this time around. The arena now charges a $15.00 convenience fee. Convenient for who, exactly?

Number one son's birthday is next week and he doesn't charge that much, but the windmills are tilting in his favor.

Sorry, boss, I have to sit this one out. I'll wait for the download. It's been a nice run, but you're charging too much this time.

Thanks for the fun along the way.


UPDATE at 5:30 Friday: An Acquantice calls with a ticket with no strings, by 6 I'm in the Arena lobby, free ticket in hand.

UPDATE at 11:30 Friday night: post concert afterglow, it was sooo good, one of those events you can just lose yourself in the hugeness of it all. Wound up dancing a couple numbers with some anonymous woman, high fiving some new freinds and just letting the tunes take you away, that for a few hours, "It's alright." Definitely had a time.

Still grinning.

This is pretty dumb, but it made me laugh. Explains why it might be sticky in those places.

It was actually a pretty decent weekend. Had Friday night to myself unexpectedly so no drastic plans were hatched. Chinese takeout and my new Across the Universe DVD had to suffice, and did just fine in that regard. Guess the week left me a little spent. Grabbed the kids Saturday morning to make some stuff for my mom's upcoming birthday (The big prize is a piggy bank painted up to look like my Dad). We repaired to the Lake Effect Diner for dinner where high hilarity ensued. Darling Daughter Number 2 wanted some alfredo and they served it with potatoes as a potential side. I like carbs as much as the next guy, but that seemed a little exhorbitant. Poor waitress was hung out to dry by the rest of the staff. Lake Effect has always had an extensive list of milk-shakes as desert options. She was whipping up a batch of either strawberry or raspberry when one of the cups gave way and sent a rainbow of shake straight at her. Darling Daughter and I both got a good look and to our eternal credit kept reasonably straight faces as the poor waitress managed to avoid yelling "FUCK" at high volume.

It did make me a little apprehensive about us getting a round. I was a little concerned at the color possibilities that a mint oreo shake and a chocolate coffee shake could combine, but she kept them under control and our shakes didn't arrive ahead of the cups to hold them in.

We made it to church and met up with their mom on time yesterday. It's the Ex's birthday (got to think of a better name than that as we are all still family) today and to celebrate her mom invited us all over for cake and more importantly homemade chicken and dumplings. Oh my gosh, how toe curlingly good. Nothing like giving your digestive system a nice warm loving embrace. I was in afterglow for dessert.

It was a good weekend in that regard. Nothing significant happened, just a good easy going time, just what the clan needed to recharge our collective batteries. Now, if I could score a Springsteen ticket, the week would be rife with optimisim.

In need of a trim, I was thrilled to see Chick, formerly of Elmwood, has his barber shop open for business on Hertel now. He always did a nice haircut and was fairly cheap. He offered to trim the beard and got a little to into his work as my chin is making a rare appearance. Watch out when the barber is a little too glad to see you

Takes a few years off I guess

Fun night last night. My Dad has been doing some volunteer consulting for one of the labs at Roswell. So the physician in charge left him hockey tickets for last night's Sabres game. Dad calls me up to offer the seats on Thursday with the addendum that the good doctor has Harbor Club access to go along with it, so we're going to eat dinner there.

I had actually been to the Harbor Club for non-hockey functions and thought it pretty vile. Turns out they are saving themselves for the Sabres crowd. We get there last night and get seated. Our waiter appears and announces that everything has been taken care of. HELLO! Dr. Paul has everything set, so enjoy. Suddenly I felt like I was in that Seinfeld episode where he was enjoying first class. Every sports event should start with sapphron chicken, roast garlic potatoes, assorted veggies and a heineken bottle that refilled itself the moment I got to the bottom. Said waiter said we could keep the table for the game, so we did. At the end of the first period, we came back and I found a generous slab of chocolate cookie cake and a cappucino waiting for me. Absolutely awesome. And the end of the second period, one more heiny was awaiting.

And the game wasn't too bad either. Felt really nice to be spoiled and know that it didn't cost the old man a penny. We split a tip with the knowledge that everybody should have their butt kissed to a fine sheen like that at least once.

If you have the means, I highly recommend it.

After being apart for nine frickin days, my car and I are back together. I didn't think it was possibile to miss the bugger, but I did. Given the invasive surgery it went under, I'm skeered to do things. Nothing feels like it did, or it's just been so long I have to get used to it once more. Twas the longest I've ever mass transited about. Today was the third day of waiting on Mitsubishi to pony up with a spring and they finally did.

I was standing in the snowfall this morning waiting for the latent 32 bus to cruise up Amherst st, thinking how perfect an omen this was. I had to work a Zoo thing at the Convention Center last night till 10 and back up and at it early this am, bus is late, but car guy called and promptly ate my paycheck. Well, I'm mobile.

But omens a plenty, my Dad called with tickets given him by a freelance client so, we are going to the Sabres game tomorrow night complete with dinner at the Harbor Club. I'm looking forward to the faux poshness of it all.

Have a good weekend, peeps

Wow, work can be interesting somedays. All the news coverage about the tigers at the Zoo was my evil doing. I'm getting a kick out of the news blogs, most of which are filled with the socratic wisdom of an AA intervention.

On the Ch 2 blog, I got tagged. "Were they named that because the Zoo marketing manager is a former Time Warner Employee?" That's exactly why, Katrina! Two post down, a guy wrote in that if he could get something for it, he'd name his pending twins "La" and "Nova." Had to laugh. People bitch when Ralph Wilson doesn't name his stadium when he needs money. We go out find some and that has a few miffed. The contradiction is pretty hilarious. I thought it was fun to orchestrate a press fiasco and manage to avoid most of the cameras.

Sunrise at the Zoo can be romantic notion, but it was too damn cold to appreciate the view. Cubs came out and did their thing and just as quickly as it began, the circus was over. I won't kid you, it was a cool power trip watching them all jockey for space at my behest.

But, back down to earth, I'm still waiting for parts for my car. I guess they have everything fixed except the spring and with Mitsubishis, you sometimes wait. I can't help but wonder if that is a sign to see what else might be out there.

Come to the convention center tomorrow night. It's a cool fundraiser, taste of Buffalo style, should be fun and inside.

Perhaps it's a post for another time, but managed to get through the service for my dad-in-law in one piece. The ceremony was nice and the small church off Michigan Ave was filled to overflowing. That church has a tradition of the receiving line as people enter. So, I stood up with the ex and had her back for the masses. For everyperson you want to see and greet and hug and whatnot, there are 15 that make you want to bath in purell. Been patted and arm grabbed with in an inch of my lilywhite self. Wound up not speaking, but my uncle-in-law cribbed a few choice paragraphs so I guess that makes me a eulogy ghost writer

Plenty of laughs and tears at the service and at the reception at the UU church over on Elmwood. Pretty sure I got hit on twice too. Once was a little skeery, but perhaps there is some "there" to the other.

Sometimes you never know......