Wednesday, August 27, 2008


I burned a whole bunch of new random mix CDs, and from this mess the little ones have chosen thus far:

Noodle: When Smokey Sings - ABC
Beast: Stand! - REM


My little sweetie, she wants violin lessons.

"You stick the black thing under your chin, and then you take the bow and you go RROW RROW ZIZZ ZIZZ ZIZZ" is apparently how it works. So easy. Who knew? Itzhak Perlman, watch your back.

Monday, August 25, 2008


Happy birthday, sweet Noodle:

And still the best birthday present I ever got. (Yes, way better than new golf clubs.)

Thursday, August 21, 2008


While searching for the spool of line for the weedwhacker today, I found an ancient mixtape from a woman who may have wanted to be my girifriend many many years ago - and who then came to her senses and ran all the way back home to Wisconsin just to be on the safe side, because the 30-year-old me wasn't the amazing specimen of Compleat Manhood you see before you today.

Having seen the site "Cassettes from my Ex" a while back, I thought I'd write its story as best as I could recall.

Suffice to say I'm going to do my damndest to teach my little Beast not to make the same mistakes I made back then, because if there's one regret I have in my life it's that I didn't have it together enough to meet Her Awesomeness when I was younger, so that we'd have had that much more time together now.

I also wish I had it together enough to remember where the hell I put that spool.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008


Home economics tips from the Times of London:
"When taking clingfilm from the dispenser to the dish, hold it flat over your bosom"
Will do, chief.

Monday, August 18, 2008


This year, myself and Papi both have damage to the ulnar collateral ligament sections of our wrists - and that's where the similiarities end. He's getting $13 million and is beloved by all of Red Sox Nation whether or not he's on the DL, and I'm getting considerably less than that to strap on a splint and play hurt no matter what. I, however, am beloved by wife and children and teeming throngs (okay, dozens) of listeners to my radio station.

Message: when on a grocery errand, don't try to see how many bags you can fit in one hand, and when hoisting children do so one at a time. Failure to observe these precautions will come back to bite you. I'm anticipating needing a cortisone shot to knock the swelling down, and my wife the fitness goddess is smirking.

It's gonna hurt! Oh, yes it will...I couldn't even drive after I got mine, but I did anyway. And then I trained for the marathon.

Super. Just super. My wife's a freakin' warrior, my daughter sailed right through over two years of infusion treatments for a kidney condition with barely a whimper, my son had tubes surgically installed in his ears and shamelessly flirted with the nurses as soon as the anesthetic wore off...and I'm the little nancypants who's gone DEFCON 2 over a needle in the wrist. Well, I'll show them who's

(edited to allow author chance to regain consciousness and maybe even dignity, perhaps)

Sunday, August 17, 2008



My Maria - B.W. Stevenson
Don't Let It Bring You Down - Neil Young


It Doesn't Have To Be That Way - Blow Monkeys (but not the parts with the blatty 80's sax)

Friday, August 15, 2008


"DON'T try to put the donut on your peenie."

"Once again, a toot does not require an announcement. Only an 'excuse me'."

"Pull up your underwear and you won't faceplant in the bathroom."

"Just because Daddy likes to watch the crazy people at Wal-Mart doesn't mean it's polite to stare."

"I told the llamas in your dreams not to spit. Not even on your baby brother."

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Wednesday, August 13, 2008


During our trip we noticed that the garden at the Notchland has grown in amazingly well. If it's just the two of you getting away for that weekend in New England...kick it, Barry...the missus and I can hugely, enormously recommend it. Heck, the innkeeper doubles as a justice of the a town with a population of 42 that kind of thing happens...and will marry you two crazy kids like he did me and the missus. If you're roadtripping, it's almost exactly halfway between Boston and Montreal.


I've spent much of the evening improving the blog's list of Hudson Valley local and road-trip restaurants we've favored over the years. Most of them are reasonably kid-friendly and won't beat the living daylights out of your wallet unless you're ordering a big-ticket item. Noodle, for instance, has taken a liking to lobster. Since she's not normally the adventurous sort at the table, we sprang for the stuffed lobster at the Barking Crab during our vacation in Boston.

She liked it. Uh-oh.

Well, at least we've got another out if she wants a pony.


Welcome to Boogerland, and profuse thanks to The Presurfer for floating a plug my way. Come and set a spell; I hope you'll find it comfy. Allow me to introduce ourselves. First, that's me in the lederhosen up top. Ach du lieber, are those some sexy legs or what? Next come my amazing wife (Her Awesomeness) and the spawnlings:

That's my charming son (Beast a/k/a Li'l Sarlacc a/k/a The Ravenous Maw), fresh and clean from the tub and attempting to jam his bath crayon up my wife's nose.

The best birthday present I ever got: my sweet Noodle.

Captured herein are the tales of our adventures, along with whatever catches my fancy when my attention inevitably wanders. Once again, welcome.

ADDENDUM: And in the spirit of what the Presurfer did for me, you can drop me an email if you'd like a blogplug. It's not like throngs hang on my every utterance, but what the hey.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008


a/k/a the family vacation, from which we are now recovering - and in my own case we are literally recovering, because somewhere in the midst of repeated hoistings of Noodle and Beast into and out of cars, trains and theme-park rides, an occasional mild pain in my left wrist became a screaming needle of agony any time I picked up something heftier than the Sunday papers, and so I wait to see the doctor(s) while wearing a drugstore wrist brace that makes me feel like Earl Anthony. (Holy crow, that's a silly shirt Ernie Schlegel's wearing, even for 1981. I digress...)

New Hampshire is great for traveling with kids, and it'll get better once our little ones are more adept in the woods. The heavy rains kept us off the trails, but the mountains and waterfalls along 302 through Crawford Notch will keep the little ones plenty fascinated. And if you're sans kids or traveling with considerably older kids, right on 302 in the middle of the mountains in Hart's Location (population 40, tops) is the inn where Her Awesomeness and I got married, and it's a tremendously lovely and secluded place.

In New Hampshire there are still small-scale theme parks geared toward smaller children that are making a good go of it, from all appearances. We took in Santa's Village in Jefferson and Story Land in Glen, near our base in North Conway. Both will take up your full day quite nicely, and unlike more massive theme parks there's shade. From actual trees, even! Nothing like a 70-degree day in the mountains, even with drizzle, when you know your friends and co-workers back home are shvitzing through 85 and swampy.

The rain also washed out our planned trip to the beach, but the alternative was plenty good for kids: Boston. A great option is the Marriott in Cambridge across from MIT, which can be pricey as heck but often offers tremendous summertime deals, which we pounced on. The floor-to-ceiling windows could be a bit nervous-making at first, especially when Beast ran up to the window full-tilt before abruptly stopping. (Yeah, keep messing with mom and dad, kid.) With the T stop right across the street from the hotel, even at 22 bucks a day it's cheaper to leave the car in the garage for the duration. Get yourselves some CharlieCards from the MBTA and you're good to go. Most T stops have...get this, New York subway riders...actual working elevators! Amazing. Yes, some of them reek of urine, but still. It's a straight shot down the Red line to South Station, from which you can walk to the Children's Museum. The Red line also stops at Boston Common, and outbound it stops at Harvard in case you're doing college trips real early. Two train changes from the Red will get you to the New England Aquarium, and one will take you to Fenway Park.

Which my darling son mooned from the 12th-floor window. I'm so proud of him.

Photos and more info to follow...

Sunday, August 10, 2008


Making an unholy racket at 2:45 in the morning today was actually helpful, seeing as I'm back to work at the station tomorrow and that's the schedule I need to be on.

I hope you had a pleasant encounter with the county sheriff's deputy who paid you a visit, also.

Next time, be more mellow and I won't have to call The Man to come hassle you. (That phrasing ought to work with the kids, long as it's 1972.) Pack out your empties and don't drive, and a swell time shall be had by all.

This shall be official Boogerland policy until such time as my daughter reaches her teenage years, at which point all yoots partying in said park will be greeted with a smile by Heinz and Klaus, our twin dobermans.