Still tired from it all. Well, dear reader, it is like this. Physically, (and sometimes by necessity, I have had to be a really early morning person and it isn't sitting well.

During a recent day of double promotion, I had to stare down actual bikers, take crap about a commercial that doesn't exist, run a few miles across the grounds as well as take my part in the Eugene O'Neill drama that is my parents and sister living together under one roof. The bikers were a piece of cake by comparison. Events are funny things. It is kind of like traveling. You stand around a lot alternating with periods of moving all over the property at as a high of rate of speed as was possible.

There are some oddities, watching people and their sense of entitlement to things they knew nothing about. I watched as one woman who paid nothing to come, wasn't charged a thing, was all set to go tear off the head of some restaurant employee in search of the parking token she believed she so richly deserved. People will have self-inflicted anuerisms over the littlest thing. A letter in my email box gripes over the lack of free ice cream, when we specified when the free ice cream was to be given away. Went to my folks house at the end of the day feeling like Methusalah.

Woke up the next morning with designs on the parade and my fatigue was hard to conceal as the splife offered to take the boy home early, provided I went home and napped. Don't have to tell me twice. I plopped on the couch and promptly checked out for three hours.

New man today: got the car inspected, picked up the dry cleaning, filled out the paperwork for passport card and booklet, washed the vehicle and enjoyed the coffee much more since I was at my own brewer. Good way to start the week. I may yet just thrive.

It's funny how often you can read in these pages how somebody's getting old or feeling so old and invariably the writer isn't past 30. Well, I got one for you all and I don't mind. Today, I am the parent of an 18 year old. That statement is one of those that makes me worry. I can't remember much about last night's dinner, but the events of today 18 years ago are practically in high definition. She got her yearbook last week at a reception at the Pearl Street Brewery (My kid in a bar, one of my bars!!!) and the following picture was inside. I'm so proud, even at just a few months old, she could render a good evil eye.

Happy Birthday, Siobhan

Oy!

My older sister subletted her place and came back to Buffalo with our Dad yesterday afternoon. Wow, didn't like being there at all. Everybody knew it was coming and I think ultimately it will be a good thing. She has herself convinced that it is the end of the world. Anybody with a brain knows otherwise, but the economics of the times are her off her game.

It was a tough weekend, but she was dragging it out. By the tiime Sunday morning got here, my dad's patience was gone. He wanted to get her moving out of Chelsea to at least cap one end of the odyssey.

They made it to Buffalo in a decent amount of time, a little more than 7 hours. I made it out to Clarence to help with the minivan unload and get the valuable electronics up and running. As we're unloading, he venting to me about her. She's venting to me about him. Apparently, I'm switzerland (without the secret Nazi financing).

She was upset because they left without a friend coming by to pack her tv. Dad told the friend that they were aiming to be gone by 9AM on Sunday. She wanted the friend to pack her tv (and really to say goodbye for the summer). That didn't happen. My Dad thought standing around in Chelsea would only prolong the agony. I think he was right. My younger sister and I half joked it worh risking the wrath for the greater good.

I offered to go in my Dad's stead. He is off infusion therapy finally, but the last treatment was just a week ago. He declined. I got my brother-in-law to get there to do any heavy lifting. So, it worked. He got her into the car and fortunately had clear sailing all the way back this direction. The finality of the journey was a big monkey off their collective shoulders.

I do what you can: mix highballs, pickup food and hook up all of her valued electronics, which got everybody chilled appropriately. Never wanted to leave my folks place so badly before.

Despite a couple of errors on the media's part, my former spouse and current son represented on Ch. 2 tonight about how we all just folks. She spoke well and he works a camera well.

And the 8 don't fill me with any glee either

The only TLC show I catch with any regularity is “American Chopper.” It is essentially the same show everytime out, with different bikes, same arguments, people doing well financially but as Louis CK put it: “Everything is amazing, but nobody is happy.” The “Jon & Kate plus 8″ show has been assaulting our collective senses for much the same reason as either “Jon” or “Kate” strayed and now their happy life that is underwritten by TLC is on the rocks. I”m a little alarmed I know that much. The fact that it is so covered in all the tabloids, near tabloids and gossip.dot.coms probably has the marketing department at the former Learning Channel giggling with delight. They have an energy efficient house they didn't have to pay for, neither has to work thanks to funds coming in and they are winning about the attention from photographers. Wow, not sure where I left my tiny violins to better play the sad song for them. We should all have such intrusions. Sap that I am, I turned away briefly from "No Reservations" to see what all the hullaballo was about. Now that I know, I still don't care.

Preferring to learn more about food and exotic alcohol from French Polynesia, I went back to Bourdain. Now, that is education tv.