Fasting Again? Who Am I, Gandhi??

So I went for my yearly physical the otehr day and part of that is 'fasting bloodwork'. Meaning that after midnight the day of your bloodwork, you can eat or drink nothing. Nothing. This means no morning tea, which means a slightly irratable leprechaun. Slightly. No only slightly today because the missus and I have started going to a new doctors office. Same group, different office.  The new office is very nice in a brand new building. The staff is very competant and friendly and the new docs are very thorough. But I digress. Again.

During my physical I mentioned that I had been having some pain in my neck/throat area. A dull, kinda throbby pain that radiated away from the area. My doctor felt my neck and did say she felt something in there. Sadly, it was not a wad of fifties. She didn't seem overly concerned but given my family history, I should have a CT scan. So once again I will be fasting on Friday (yes the 13th. Don't think I didn't hesitate before booking that one) from 5am until after my scan. Hopefully it is nothing more than a fatty something or other. Maybe a third eye! How cool would that be??

After that I will scoot into the little cafe at the gift shop and have me a nice big cup of hot tea, and maybe a muffin...or cookies. 

Wish me luck...or don't.... your call...

Somethings Wrong at Our House

Last night we ventured out for my birthday dinner. It snowed like crazy on my actual bday and besides, Mags come home from work completely wiped out so I suggested we wait until the weekend.

We decided that we would return to the restaurant where we got married. It's a two hundred year old inn. Its got all the quirks an old house has, creaky sloped floors, tiny doorways, low ceilings, fireplaces scattered throughout. And it has always had the best food. The best. The menu is small but everything on there that we ever had to eat there was fantastic. That was until last night.

We got there early and were seated immediately. Mags got a soda while I ordered a Sammy. It allll started with the beer. I know my beer and this wasn't a Boston Lager. I made a face and Mags inquired 'everything okay?'. I said "this beer is weird. It's almost, strawberry flavored."
"What??"

"I'm tellin' ya."

So the next time our waitress came by, I inquired, politely of course.
"'Scuse me. Is this a flavored beer.?"

"No. What's wrong with it?"
"It kinda tastes like strawberries."

"Ohhh it's the winter ale."
Now see, I know it wasn't, but not one to make a scene I drank my "WinterAle"

So the appetizer (best dish of the night) came out and then our salads. The salads were good and the home-made dressings were really tasty.

Then, the main course. I ordered a fillet Mignon medium rare and Mags got a veal Osso Bucco dish.

My steak was practically blackened on the outside and bloody on the inside and when Mags took one whiff of her food, she pushed it aside. I cut away the seared flesh and ate my almost rare beef. I looked up and noticed her not eating. "What's wrong?"

"That meat doesn't taste right. Try it maybe it's just me."

So I tried it and I am sure the meat was almost past it's shelf life. It did smell bad. Our waitress finally came back and asked Mags what was wrong and she quietly told her the food was no good. The waitress acted all shocked and stuff. Mags told her "Smell it."

The waitress looked at her and then lifted the plate to her nose. She hesitated and then said, "Hmm you're the first person that's ever complained about this dish. Can I get you something else?" At this point Mags stomach was doing somersaults and she passed. 

Now this is very, very rare that a meal out would not be eaten by my wife. She's not a picky eater. In the 9 years we've been together, she has only sent back 2 meals. I mean the woman has eaten gazelle in Botswana, goat eyes with the tribal nomads in the high plains of Mongolia, and monkey butt in the Congo. (When I told you my wife was a rebel I wasn't kidding) In all seriousness, the woman likes to eat out and 99% of the time she enjoys her meals.

So in the end, the waitress didn't take the meal off our tab, heck she even had another waitress bring us our check. We asked this 'new' waitress if there was a new chef and she too was kinda caught off guard, "No he's been here for years." 'Years' meaning just under two, which is the last time we were there.

On the way out Mags was saying to me "I don't care if I ever eat there again."

An older couple coming up the porch heard her and the husband said to me "That bad?"

"Do not get the Osso bucco." was my only reply. Mags gave the wife the rest of the report.

Interestingly enough a couple at a nearby table had some complaints too. We couldn't hear it the whole story , but they left unhappy too.

Sadly, last night looked to be our last night eating there. What a shame. How can a place that used to be so very good, become so very bad??

Really Manny??

Pictured here we see Manny. Just Manny. He is one of those people who will be recognized with just a single name, ala Madonna, Renaldo, Gump, Judas, Leadbelly, Yaz, Tiffany, Ike, Whoopi, and of course, Yanni. 

Manny is a great hitter. No two ways about it the boy can rap the horsehide. He does however, have his moments. He is generally known for being moody, outspoken and generally, well.. a flake.

"Manny being Manny." as the saying goes.

Now MLB's biggest malcontent since who knows who has recently passed on a 25 million dollar, single-season contract. Seriously dude? 

I mean, I can't hit a curve ball, (whoa..bad example) throw a baseball from left field into the plate, or catch all that well to be perfectly honest. But honestly, how exactly does one say no to a 25 million dollar contract?

I mean you are just playing a game. A pretty easy-going affair, baseball. There's not alot of physical contact. Not like being crushed by a lineman in the NFL, or decked at center ice by Shanny. You basically stand out in the sun and catch a ball now and then. Maybe you have to try and hit the ball oh, maybe three times a game.

If you get a simple ahem, 'injury', you'll sit on the bench for two days for a bad-hair day to three months for a hangnail. Don't get me wrong, I like baseball and all but if we're gonna be honest with ourselves, you guys have it pretty darn easy.

So your rejection of this contract is baffling. Let's look at the numbers shall we? Maybe you can be persuaded to accept the Dodgers 'paltry' offer.

25 million dollars broken down over the course of 162 games comes out to about....

$154,320.98 per game if each game lasts, I dunno four hours, that means you will make...

$38,580.25  per hour even if it rains you'll still make....ummmm $154,320.98 

If you bat 4 times, you'll get $9645.06. Per plate appearance  Even if you strike out. Awesome, right! Almost ten grand for failing! Gotta love this game huh?

If you play a full week, say seven games, including a home at home double-header, you will make about...$1,080,246.80. A cool Mill. Dig it! Think about this. My wife and I when I was employed, would have had to work almost twenty-two years to make that, and that doesn't include paying for things like, food, electricity, health insurance...silly stuff.

I could go on about all the stuff you could buy with all that crazy freakin' loot, but I won't not in this entry anyways. 
True you are an awesome hitter, no doubting that at all. You were great for the Sox. But come on Manny...sign the contract and go play ball.

More Pics

It snowed all day yesterday and into the night. Here are just a few pics I snapped this morning.

Snow Pics

It's been snowing here since 5am. Some pics of the woods behind the house. I'm sooo happy nobody can ever build behind us.

An Open Letter to our President

Good Afternoon Mr. President,

I'm hoping all is well with you and the family. First off congrats on your new job and your new digs. I mean how cool is it living in the White House? Your own bowling alley? Seriously?? You are da' man! Is there a bar in that bowling alley? If so, I'll send along my address and maybe I'll come throw a few frames with ya'. I'm awful so you should have an easy go of it. I'm certainly not going to play hoops with you..whew that would be ugly. 

Anyways, back to the congratulations. You ran a great campaign and in my honest opinion, you're the right guy for the job. What a great time in the history of our country eh? The first African-American President. After the decades of struggle, harassment and plain outright cruelty directed at the African-American people this is a pretty awesome feat. All the years of struggle..from the gross injustice of slavery, to the struggles and the fight of folks like the brave Medgar Evers,  the brilliant Dr Martin Luther King, and the tiny in stature but feisty in spirit Rosa Parks and the countless others, this is truly monumental event. 

I can never truly understand what this was like because I am white. I'm Irish so that means I'm about as white as they come. But I studied history and I've seen the news. You should be super-proud of yourself.

I, like many Americans who can reason and use logic understand that our country is a mess. I feel that while I know you'll do a great job, you've really got your work cut out for yourself. You came on at a really bad time. It cannot be fixed in 5 months, 8 months, it may take more than a year. To use a hockey metaphor, I equate you with the back-up goalie whose coach sticks him between the pipes early in the third when his team is already down by four goals and expects you to save the day.

I'm hoping that everyone in the country, from the average citizen to the highest form of government will work with you and give you the time and support that you need to get your job done. Let's face it a lot of people want you to fail simply because of the color of your skin. They will piss and moan at every chance they get, at every bill that doesn't pass...every opportunity and between us, these people suck. They suck like a nine dollar vacuum cleaner. Ignorance is an ugly thing.  

I know it won't be easy but you must ignore these pinheads and plod on. I'm excited to see what you come up with to get us back on the right track. I am, sadly, amongst the swelling ranks of folks who have lost their jobs. I always took pride in the fact that I worked hard every day to provide for Mags and Meself. It's tough being supported by the missus, watching her go off to work everyday will I stay home with the boys. (Okay, the first week was pretty nice.) It's hard on my wife because of her many health issues, I know it is, but I'm hoping something good will happen for us soon. 

I know you came up in a single parent household and you guys (you and your Mom) didn't have it easy financially. I can relate to that. I had both parents at home, but there was six of us and money was always tight, as it is now. I feel that is oneof the things that will really help you. The majority of this country is struggling. We can't relate to someone who grew up with money, in a privileged lifestyle. We all know what it's like to watch our pennies. And as the economy continues to nosedive, more and more of us are in that boat. 

I'm hoping there won't be any more big money bail-outs for these companies whose executives spend more on a rug than I make in a year. Why would anyone give these morons money?

As far as the smoking thing goes, I never tried it ( I hear it stunts your growth) but I know people who have tried to quit it isn't easy. If reporters kept mentioning it, why don't you just tell them to feck off? Oh, wait...maybe you shouldn't do that. Never mind.

I'm excited about the stimulus plan and if I promise not to tell anyone could you possibly get me mine a little sooner that, ya know, anyone else?....please...?

In closing I'd like to wish you all the best. 

P.S. Look, maybe you should cut Michelle's mom her check first, really, I don't want to cause any trouble for ya big guy.

I Am Not Turning 40...I Am Not Turning 40...I Am....

If I keep saying it, it won't happen right? I am just over 8 hours away from hitting the big 40. I'm not too sure how I feel about it. It was alamot 40 years ago today, on a brutally cold New England morning (all February mornings in New England are brutally cold) that yours truly made his world debut. I was, by all accounts a big baby. You wouldn't know it to look at me now but I rocked the scales at almost ten pounds. I was so big my mother had to have a capital C- section. (Please tell me you get that). By the same accounts, I was soothed immediately by a warm bath, a tiny knit Bruins beanie, and a binky that had been dipped in Jamiesons.

I look back and am amazed at how fast my life has been flying by. I have had many trials and tribulations along the way. Mostly health-wise. It's cool though, all the bad stuff that you deal with makes you stronger. It has made me the perseon I am today.

I've had spinal surgery twice, a few 'growths' removed, I've moved to Joisey, met a fantabulous woman, married her, bought a house, buried my father, baby sister, and one of my best friends. 

I've been to Vegas, all over New England, Canada a few times, Upstate New York, lots of places. 

Flown once. Met alot of really cool people. So honestly, the good has outweighed the bad. But that has only happened recently. Once I met my wife, my life started on the upswing. 

We have had our share of rough times but we get through it. Together.

Life is a crazy thing. And like my Dad used to say, it goes by fast kiddo. 

So tomorrow when the Grandfather clock chimes at 8:30 I'll wish Meself a Happy Birthday.