I got taken to dinner last night at Fanny's in Amherst by a representative from Playboy. The irony of Playboy liking Fanny's took a little to hit me, until I started smirking for no reason over my chocolate mousse dessert. It is a dumb joke, but what the hey it's good to be 3 once in awhile. These dinner meetings are disingenuous and decadent affairs. 15 minutes of purposeful talk and 3 hours of utter bullshit. My boss's and whatever representative is in town try to out "Dale Carnegie" one another, while the rest of us just hope the food is good. It was.

The alqonquin roundtable of our common council likes the Hotel for Elmwood. I'm stunned. It's a wonder they aren't stationed at the suburban border shaking people down for spare change as they leave the city.

Argh, work calls............

Irish on Vacation


Q: Where does an Irish person go on a vacation?
A: A new bar

Back when the band Chicago didn't annoy the crap out of me, I kind of liked the song "Saturday in the Park." Yesterday on Elmwood might have been the setting. I had lunch at the bagel place formerly known as Manhattan and it was great to see the pleasant vibe coming from the sidewalks as folks just out enjoying the sunshine and each other. All the walked dogs were in good moods and while the day was a one off (witness the fog rolling in over Delaware Avenue as I write thise), it was a tremendous spirit booster.

A sidewalk vendor was trying to talk me into an earring, much to my daughter's amusement. I'm not sure if I'm a double hoop guy yet.

Took the youngins out into the burbs for dinner at the rents and predinner consisted of scooter rides and a intense game of catch with said daughter (at her request). Wonders never cease.

Days like yesterday make it possible to kick Monday's ass!

woman

My divorce papers came last night. I'd been separated for a little more than two years, pretty amicably, but still the finality of it all still smacks you a little. Most of the wounds of all the hard conversations heal, but occasionally something like this rips the bandages off and pours a little more bourbon down the almost healed scars.

It's interesting in a sense to watch the transition. She's the one that strayed or followed a different direction, but since I'm the one that moved, the social circle that was ours closed mostly to me. There was a party at the house formerly known as mine the others night and while I knew most of the attendees, I also knew I was better off not appearing. My ten year old called me periodically (her idea) to let me know who was drunk and if I got cake left overs (from Delish, they be good people).

Given how tough her parents were on her and how useless mine were in revealing her discovery about herself, we've actually been okay with one another. I've dated a little and looked for other social venues. That has been a little slow and that is okay, but I read about somebody else here having beer and wing auditions to just broaden a social circle and that seems like a decent start.

I've been a little monastic as I've started a new job last May (so, I guess it is an old job now) and just trying to be Dad to our kids still on the weekends and it seems to be working, but I figure there has to be room for a life in there somewhere.

I used to mock that guy who had the perennial personal ad and that "matinee grin." I think he is still in Artvoice inspiring fear and loathing in the female population of Buffalo. Occasionally, you can't help but be a little scared you might turn into him.

But, you occasionally get a sign that things are turning the corner. I locked eyes with a woman at Wegmans the other week. Kid at the sub counter said those most encouraging ego soothing words "Dude, she was checking you out."