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......

Sometimes it really is a hard knock life.

My car decided it needed to act up. I was taking day off and leaning toward taking yesterday when I was driving around for work on Wednesday morning. I made my rounds from the science museum to the Bisons offices to Buffalo Spree and was almost back to the Zoo when my brake pedal went all the way to the floor while on Hertel. I stopped, but could only wonder what now?

With an eye toward dealing with it after the afternoon of work, I came out at 5:30 and sure enough got the same thing. The Master Cylinder was dry as a bone inside and out, so I knew it wasn't guilty. To find out a little more, I emergency braked my way over to Pep Boys. NEVER, EVER, do that Peeps. It's a bad idea. I tell em it's a brake issue. They could never identify the problem. Their solution was to replace everything. On a fourteen year old car? At those prices? HELL to the No.

Went back down there, to find they left my car in pieces, despite me telling them no. Had triple AAA tow it over to my real mechanic. He initially wasn't sure he could save it. That really wasn't what I needed to hear. Initially, he believes a loose strut snapped the brake cable. Trouble was, the strut due to age or some fuckstick at Pep Boys literally dropped off the car. Realistically, I know it's age, but when people keep pokin at the same spot, eventually they are all going to leave a bruise.

I think we'll be fine, except for my miniscule tax refund and birthday funds are going to buy me the ability to stop. Not exactly the present I had in my sites, ya know. Might be time to start shopping a little for a suitable replacement for a younger vehicle.

Can you see me in an Intrepid?

Seeyas for Pizza tomorrow.

Here you go, the last in my unintentional series of the immediacy of death. Thanks for the notes of encouragement. It means a lot as I have to make my debut as one of the eulogizers on Thursday. A white, almost pink, dude from the suburbs trying to wax eloquent on the steps of one of the city’s eldest black churches. I got a feeling that was one of Pop’s final shots at messing with me a little. I like to think the image has him chuckling wherever he may be.

Anyhoo, if it seems like I’ve harped a little too much on mortality laden for you casual journal readers well, bugger off, it’s my journal. I started to think about what to say whilst we were doing what you do in the waking hours of such events. While my ex and her brother tended to the funeral director, I tried to make myself useful by answering the door, mixing drinks and whatnot. It felt a little strange to be a block away at the height of events Saturday night, but I’m not sure what being right there would have accomplished. Sitting with the kids seemed like the next best thing so their mom could say goodbye and have some time to grieve without worrying about the rest of us. The day after, you sit, you eat, you cry, you laugh, repeat.

I had to laugh a little as my ex’s current girlfriend and her former were both there, setting up higher comedy or drama. My daughter sidled up me at one point and said “You think they’re going to go at it?” Such are the vicissitudes of lesbian turf battles. Thankfully, said current one has some sense.

Given that a large family and a large populace sometimes rarely see one another, you can never be too certain as to who everybody is. I have the perfectly sincere “Hey!!” down pretty good. Pretty sure I was hugged by three people yesterday who I have absolutely no idea who the hell they were. I did reach for my wallet to be on the safe side.

You never know what talents can get called upon. After getting the kids and their Mom back home, I went back to my place to do photoshop work for an obituary portrait. Never been in that position before. I had to walk through some watermarks to make a passable picture, and I think it worked out fairly well, given the original document.

So, this is what I’m thinking for behind the pulpit

“I can’t say if today is a day of remembrance, commemoration, sadness or celebration. Pop would want it to be whatever you need it to be. He got much of his strength through moments in this very building, but he never wallowed in it. I can’t tell you anything you don’t already know about him. What I do know is that he wanted the best that life had to offer for everybody in the room. If there was a chance to reach higher, it is a chance that he deemed worth taking. It may even feel a little ridiculous to start with, but the long term payoff would always merited us trying. He never stopped looking for the opportunities for all of us. We may have lost a booster, a cheerleader, a champion, but savor the knowledge that we had him on our side. He wants us all to shine, daring us to be great. I think he’d spot us today, but put tomorrow on notice because we’re coming.”

Alright, so I ain't Father Flannigan, but it's genuine and to the point.