is such a study in Disingenuousness. I'm starting to associate the big ticket restaurants around town by the cable network that takes us there. I believe the thinking is that the if the network schmoozes the cable affiliate, the cable affiliate cranks out more support for the network offerings. It is usually 15 minutes about work and actual business talk spread over 3 hours of bullshit and over-Carnegie-izing.

You hear the phrase May Sweeps. For us, it means these occasions double. Tonight, it was Oxygen's turn. They took my department to Oliver's. We were seated and I couldn't help but think of the estrip post talking about steaks and restaurants, So I had one. It was alright, but not quite as good as Fiamma's when OLN took us there which was close to Chophouse quality as purchased by ESPN.

I work in a strange industry. The Western Door restaurant was produced by Discovery. TNT took us to Daffodil's. It's an empty shell of a social life. You see interesting places with people who are desperately trying to impress. No matter how hard they try, there is little I can do. They really have to wow my boss and her idiot of a boss (this schmuck is screwing with how you can see the sabres game on thursday). The networks with little to offer get to take them and us to Chef's since the
big cheeses can't be bothered to get into their cars.

The same screne gets repeated with false sincerity. Dinner, some tchotckeys, and hollow promises. I'm not complaining because I get to places I could never afford. I saw a former colleague at Spot Tonight who laughed at the travails. It cracks me up a little to see the same "dance" played out on basically an every other week basis.

I work in a strange industry.

It's true, you can too cool for your kids. My eldest is 14 and in the youth group at the Unitarian Church on Elmwood. My ex serves as one of the group's advisors. Each year the youth take over the Sunday service. I always look forward to it because it is one service that is honest and from the heart. Besides, it's one of the few times that the Grateful Dead, White Stripes and Black Eyed Peas feature in the hymns.

Anyway the kids come out and line the front of the church for the duration of the service. There is a section for quiet contemplation/meditation. My ex and I get along very well. She came up to me and asked if I'd pitch in at this spot. It became clear what she meant momentarily. The music the kids chose was Depeche Mode's "Personal Jesus" as interpreted by Johnny Cash. It's a great record with a baseline that can inspire the most rythmically challenged into a healthy bout of "White Man's Overbite." A few of the kids start getting into it. The group at one end including my child looked more like they were waiting for the song to end. My ex sprung into action, tossing a few precussion instruments to some and grabbing one young man into a dance. As she and her partner start up, my daughter eyes find mine. I feel that tell tale smirk coming across my eyes. She is suffering teenage mortificiation. As my ex started to briefly head in my direction, I thought my child was going to have a stroke.

Lucky for her, the song ended.

She recovered enough after the service to introduce me to her mom's dance partner. "You're the dude who hooked her up with U2?" I nod yes. He started to walk away. He leans back to my daughter: "Your parents are so cool."

The look on her face made my day.

Just lost my post

Nothing to see here

Show's over

Move along

The recent wave of folks making the leap to 30 got me thinking. I wonder sometimes if we think too hard about the number of our ages in correlation to how we ought to behave.

I work with a woman who turned 35. We get along really well and do good work, but she was bumming because she was holding herself to one of those lists we all make about "by the time I'm (fill in age here), I want to do this and this........" I tried to tell her that you can't hold yourself to those standards because everybody who makes those lists usually makes them at a time when your biggest concern is how much beer money you have for the weekend. I think that helped along with if she wanted I could started "acting 42." She declined which is good, because I really don't know how.

Age is truly relative. I guess I feel lucky, because I was always one step ahead of all the drinking age changes. A family friend complained to me that he couldn't do something now that he was 56, even though nothing changed from 55. I was at another gathering where a doddering old woman of 27 was looking for help since she was no longer 26. I did the gentlemanly thing and offered to take her out back and shoot her. You're never too old to have a drink come out your nose.

I guess it makes me think that sometimes limitations surrounding age are sometimes self inflicted.

I was in Frizzy's a few months back with some people I used to work with at the Adelphia call center. Outkast came over the pa and somebody asked what the name of the song was. Without thinking, I piped up and said "Roses." The entire group was staring at me dumbstruck that I, teetering on the brink of old farthood in their eyes, would know that. A brief pause and I was pronouced "cool."

In the distance, I could hear my daughter cringing. Maybe it's because I have a few more miles on me than the bulk of the epeeps, but the numbers are just numbers that's all. It's the people who matter.

End of sermon

(An unintentional present for Jenks's birthday)


A man goes to see the doctor and tells the doc that his penis has turned orange.

The doctor looks at it and says, "I haven't ever seen any thing like this before in my entire medical career. What do you do for a living? Do you work around any hazardous materials?" The man says no.

The doctor asks the man what he does all day. The man responds, "Nothing." The doctor is really puzzled now and says, "You can't not do anything. What do you do at home all day?"

The man replies, "Honestly, doc I, don't do anything. I just sit around, watch porno flicks and eat Cheetos."