Toy Farting Teddy Bear 'Nuff said.

Thank you so much for the kind words! You all are so thoughtful with the cards and the pictures and all that. . .makes me feel really good that the kids are having a fun time and are happy.

Joe and I just shut off the lights and the holiday is winding down for us. There aren't too many kids willing to walk up the driveway and then two half-flights of steps to the house. . .


Again, thanks for the compliments and Halloween and thank you cards. It was my pleasure. Your boys are both just too cute for words and so precocious, too.

We're putting our little super-heroes to sleep now -- chocolate slobber and sticky fingers notwithstanding.

They had a good night.

Alane and I are still reviewing notes from our weekend visit to the Castle 1526. So much data, yet so little of it computes. We know all the Odd Job locations closed long ago, but Don Vito still comes through with the wacky consumer goods. He bought a sound-amplifying eavesdropping device -- it's on my desk at work. I'm sure I'll find a way to make use of it.

The stream of trick-or-treaters has slowed to a trickle -- just the occasional teenager now and then, giggling awkwardly for their friends waiting on the sidewalk, making the transparent attempt for free candy. What's wrong with today's kids -- can't they buy liquor like we did when I was their age?

Yesterday was the neighborhood Halloween parade -- complete with hay ride around the block and a rampage through the local old-folks home (no shit). It ended with pizza, cakes and candy out on the dead-end street around the block. All the kids were out. We even got to see Sonic turn on the charm for the neighborhood girls -- sitting there, looking civilized, acting like he was actually listening to what they were saying.

He's a natural.

Mojo, on the other hand, is not so subtle. Alane told me that on tonight's trick-or-treat run, one hapless homeowner had to go to another room to refill her bowl of treats. Quoth Mojo upon her return:

"What took you so long?"

We're live-blogging Halloween from it-sure-gets-late-early Tuckahoe. The boys are making the rounds and I'm back here distributing candy to the trick-or-treaters (I was all set to join the entourage, but Cookie thought it was very important for someone to stay here and answer the doorbell).

They'll be back soon enough; I was sure to get some snapshots before they left. They are are excited. We had to wolf our dinner so we could get them suited up and out the door (actually Mojo has been Spidey for a good three hours already).

Once again, we must note how totally excellent Cookie's costume is -- mad props to Ellen for a truly outstanding performance. As for Mojo, the off-the-shelf nature of his costume is more than made up for by the magnitude of his... Mojo.

Ah, methinks I hear them returning...

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! We are all ready here for much candy and merriment. Today John Paul had a Rag-a-Muffin parade at school. He did not go as Sonic because well, his teacher is not too nice and I figured she wouldn't help him. So he was a knight for the morning. However, he will once again don the Sonic gear when he goes door to door. He went to our block party yesterday dressed as Sonic and everyone admired the costume. So thanks again Ellen.

I'm glad to hear everyone down Spumoni South way weathered the hurricane alright. Sounds like it was nasty.

Good Halloween Morning to all the clan. . .hope you have a Spooktacular Day!
ellie

I'm off the hook this morning: Alane is making the meatballs.

Greetings from Grand Island, NE. I am not sure how it got it's name. . .no islands in the prairie grass that I can see unless you count the lagoon out behind the hotel...

I am glad that Cookie is having fun with the costume. . .it sure looks to be too big to me, and for that I apologize. Do the spats come close to fitting his shoes at least. . .I made a trip to the local Payless to find some size 13 shoes to measure them up against. . . You could take darts in the shoulders in a V both back and front and see if that doesn't raise his shoulder spikes up. . .I know, I know, I am obsessing again!

Our weather should be much more mild than weather requiring someone hanging on to one's ankles while they hand out treats. . .and I can wear my costume rather than a winter coat and snow boots like last year. . .I may even get energetic and dig out the lights for the house. . .orange to line the driveway and black lights outlining the front of the house (all C 9's). . .I have spiderwebs for the bushes and bats for the house. . .plus we fire up the fog machine and turn on the spooky sounds CD. . .nothing like banshees and wolves to enliven the neighborhood.

The candy has been hidden in the basement for at least a month. . .we hide it from ourselves. . .as in 'out of sight, out of mind'. . .Joe says he is bringing you all the leftovers. . .I have a serious java and chocolate addiction. . .so there might not be leftovers by the time he boards the plane to the east. The mitigating fact about the candy stash is that it isn't dark chocolate, my favorite.

Recently it has come to my attention that some of the upscale markets are carrying espresso dark chocolate. Good thing Omaha and those markets are 13 miles away. Even Kit Kats are getting in to the flavor market, though, and they are way too easy to come by and consume. . .a serious danger to the 35 pounds I have lost since stopping the VIOXX. . .yes, I do put part of the blame on steroids and VIOXX and of course, inactivity since I stopped working outside our home has not helped. . .I wouldn't dream of blaming chocolate. . .it's health food and it is also myth that the sugar causes hyperactivity

Hmmm guess what I am going to try to find for dessert tonight after Joe gets a nap in?

Oh, and have I watched the video clip of Al Roker getting toppled by the hurricane? Only about a hundred times -- and it's funnier with each playing.

I want to hire another staffer at my office -- someone to hold me at the ankles on windy days (or during particularly gusty management and/or board meetings).

We are just about ready for Halloween. Cookie's Sonic costume kicks ass. Last night I stopped at three drug stores before finding a white du-rag. Rite Aid had it; Duane Reade only had them in black. (Before getting on the train I stopped at the Hot & Crusty and got black-and-white cookies for the boys -- appropriate, or what?)

So I cut out some eyeballs and attached them to the du-rag -- all that's left is to cut off that annoying red logo-tag. Sunday is the neighborhood Halloween party for the kiddies; and Monday, of course, is all about trick-or-treat. Cookie is pumped -- he just suited up for some photos and ran into my bedroom where Alane is lying down to ease her raging angst. He stood on the bed to show off his look and a moment later tried to roll himself into the Sonic attack-ball. He's out of control.

Anyway, I find Bazzukajoe's photo journal most insightful. You know, even at Nagasaki the church remained standing. But in Jupiter, the church steeple got whacked... while Vinny's grill survived intact.

A cosmic coincidence? Not a chance.

Once again, I think Orange Soup has something to do with it (in the book of Exodus, they didn't have carrots to turn their soup orange -- that's why they had to use lamb's blood to mark their homes).

Well the power is back at Spumoni South So its just Jessica's parents still in the dark. The Fam is heading up to Broadway Joe's for a halloween party tonight. I go back to work tomorrow. Ree and steve can add thier commentary but below are some of the sights we saw.
In our house it was Roker that made our day. I hope John caught it. At Spumoni Wavy Lays Chips were the hero. Here is Vins Bag.

Well I am not sure of the sounds or the wind but Spumoni South now looks like this if you sit poolside.


This was the scene about 1 street away from Jessica's parents house.
And well this what we saw at steves house. At least it belonged to the neighboring building. Its now condemned. The arrow on the left is steves bedroom window. The opposite side had a living room window blow in making a disastrous mine field of glass shard and stuff caught by the wind.

pretty impressive.....

Just a question.
Did anyone catch Al Roker in Naples when he got knocked on his ass by Wilma?
It made my hurricane.

Joe- and I are safely ensconced in our hotel room. It is terrific! All the amenities I like plus a few that I didn't expect--8 pillows on two queen beds. . .so we can spread out and put up our feet while watching CNN and the Weather Channel...

Joe just looked and said, "You're blogging!" so I will close with repeating the request for the recipe for orange soup. Our kit contains all kinds of freeze-dried foods, including lots of soups. . .but none of the orange.

No, really, I wanna know how to make the Orange Soup.

Preparedness is indeed the key to surviving nature's fury, and Airport Guy is indeed dedicated to his work. So when is Joe-maha going to make Orange Soup an official component of disaster preparedness? Has the Red Cross ever thought to advise people to make a roast beef in advance of a tornado? Or meatballs? If not, why not?

Hey Shteef, as soon as you get back online please post Marie's recipe for Orange Soup so Nebraska Joe can insert it into his lesson plan. There are legions of desperate retirees in Boca Raton who need to know how to fashion a makeshift chafing dish and steam table using soda cans, pool water and sterno. (Hmmm, maybe when we've complete the Encyclopedia Mastandrea and Mastandrea University, we can move on to the Mastandrea Survival Guide: helpful tips for hunkering, camping, and last-minute catering.)

I knew Bazzukajoe was in danger when he told me he couldn't board up his door as much as he would have liked because needed to leave a large enough opening for his head to get back in.

That's way too much exposure.

Jessica's getting a crash helmet for Christmas.

We are very thankful that you all were prepared, that you have communications once again and that, most of all, you are safe!

I agree with you that passion for the job is paramount. I will remember your words and think more kindly of Joe's 80 hour work weeks and 24/7 devotion to the public good.

We are off for the weekend to another Nebraska county where Joe will be teaching a CAMEO course. Tarka and I will be lounging around. . . it's a tough life, but I make up for Joe's hours working by loafing extra hard.

If we are lucky we will have wi-fi at the hotel. . .but this being Nebraska, it is not a guarantee to have wi-fi and a pet friendly hotel or a hair dryer, coffee pot, iron or ironing board. . .or a working TV for that matter. . .amend that to say, a TV that receives anything worth watching. . .

Again, our best to all of you and our hearty congratulations on your excellent preparedness skills. . .

Finally the cable has returned. I blog therefore i survive. We have hit the mattresses at my apt. Steve has power and has gone back to his home. He is lucky. We all are. This was quite a ride. I spoke to alane briefly the day before and was feeling confident this could not be as bad as last year. I was sorely mistaken.

Jessica and I were awoken at 6am by steve's voice bellowing on the phone. He said "IT'S Coming ASHORE!" That was last I would hear from Spumoni for several hours. I would not see it till the next day. We tried to keep in touch but somehow our only link was Marlena in Orlando. In a bizarre twist of fate marlena was meant to be there. She was our contact. Nextel will be the next email i write. Way to go communications in our time of need. I could hear every FEMA and EOC reps nextel beeping during press conferences on the radio. That better be the reason mine were not operating.

So 8am the winds began. Banging and clanking object into our windows and door. We could see garbage cans and branches blowing down the street. We had prepared. We had plenty of water and food. Ice and 2 coolers. We had flashlights and candles all ready. Battery operated TV and Fan. At 8:15 The lights went out. We waited. The noise is indescribable. The wind subsided for 20 minutes as we passed in the eye of Wilma, you bitch. We put on our battery TV and watched the Rob Lopicola on the local channel telling us the worst was over. The tail end will speed out to sea. Breathe easy. No such luck. Our area has a weather station near us that clocked 102 mph wind. At one point i saw the wind bow in our sliding glass window of our living room. I made jess go hide in the bedroom and blocked up the glass with our couches and recliner. I stood in that kitchen for 2 hrs and waited for the glass to break. Everytime i saw the couch move i ran and pushed it back. It was quite a ride.

Rob you douche. Its sack heads like you and Cantore that give us bullshit niceties instead of the the real deal. Tell us you just shit yourself because you never saw a huricane this big. The actual hurricane spanned from key west to titusville. 80% of the state saw huricane force winds. I think we need Joe-Maha to run the EOC in Florida. I think id feel better. Passion for your job is something that reassures in a time like this.

For the record. The following is a picture of me in the car calling my mom on her emergency number. or as she calls it her IPAQ

That one is for Merle and Jenia. They missed it.

I am in the mood for Halloween. The pumpkin patch has been gathered in. . .all pie pumpkins this year thanks to the deer and the weird neighbor. . .so I thought I would add a bit of Halloween to the blog. . .

It's so comforting to have the Macaroni Dish in times of need. Jenia and I are in Orlando, but staying at our cousin Janine's house because we were never able to get the U-haul truck down there due to the weather. Thus, we are bed, tv, computer, table, and chairless. I am using an e-machine with a very fickle dial-up. But that's A-Ok, because I wish I was down in Jupiter right now. It's hard for Jenia and I to be here in the air conditioning while my flesh and blood are scared and endangered in the wrath of Wilma, that fat bitch. But not to fret, everyone's doing great, and eating in style.
Today Joey and Jessica got their power back up, so Ree and my parents are staying with them. My poor Steve is at his apartment cleaning up. His sliding glass windows caved in, and glass blew everywhere. My mother said it was a blessing he wasn't at home. They all think it was a tornado that did such damage, not Wilma, although the news reports it's the worst hurricane to hit Ft. Lauderdale in 50 years.
This morning (in about 7 hours from now)I have a full day of orientation, and Jenia has a second interview with Insight Financial Credit Union. We're hoping to go down to Jupiter on Friday. By then there should be gas available, to say the least. My boss Teresa, Annie's mom, has power, and is giving their generator to my parents. Teresa's house is in bad shape, her roof is all over the place. I was calling FEMA for her today. When her husband got on the phone with me, he described the situation as this, in the key of Munchkinland, "The house began to twich, the roof became unhinged..."
On a lighter note, during the hurricane one of the discussions was Halloween costumes. Marie and Vin are still undecided. Ree's gonna be the Bride of Frankenstein, Jenia's gonna be a Mammogram Specialist, and I'm gonna be a banana.

Thank you for the update. We are grateful that all is well in Spumoni south with the exception of the screen house. May their recovery from the hours of storm-tension be swift.

Just had a very choppy phone conversation with Bazzukajoe. He reports: "Everything is cool." Well, except for the screen house out the back of Spumoni: it's gone.

Just got voicemail from Spumoni: they are now in the eye of the storm, smashing ruffled potato chips with their inoperative Nextel phones. Interim damage assessment: a few screens missing and no electricity. Land-line still working -- that's a good sign.

Reading that Frylock is huddled in the safe room with a big bowl of Orange Soup can only make me think of one thing: Soupy George with the soup on his head! Soupy Super Soupy George!

Garlic powder? No shame in that.

BazzukaJoe does not lie, there are indeed six coolers here in Spumoni Gardens... not to mention the large pot of sauce, the fresh orange soup, the roast beef and a bag of Wavy Lays thats so large Big Vin just parks his electric wheelchair inside it when he needs one. For a natural disaster area, I have to admit we got it pretty good. In fact, Aunt Marie has become so skilled at hurricane response there was talk of naming her new head of FEMA, but she politely requested her name withdrawn upon learning they wouldn't provide funding for Aurrichio brand provolone. There are some things that can't be skimped on. We are now just five hours from the invasion of Wilma...and this time it will only be me, Ree, Big Vin and Marie huddled in the safe room...thats five people shy of the record we set last year during Francis when we managed to push the temperature of that hallway to that of a brick pizza oven...although I still wish they were here. Normally the pitch black solitary confinement affects everyone's sleep patterns...and right now I should be in the 3rd stage of coma (thankfully Vito is nowhere near) except I'm still fighting some strain of Ebola that keeps me coughing up vital organs every 20 seconds. Big Vin tells me "drink some scotch" every time I cough, which has totalled about 450,000 times in the last twelve hours. Had I taken his prescription I would have easily finished all four bottles of Johhny Walker Red, the Pinch, and the Chivas Regal by 8pm this evening. I definitely would be sleeping right now though...I think I am gonna go get myself a shot...also I will try and blog again before the power goes out...but if not I will talk to you all soon as I can. If the phones are down and your wondering what we're doin....we're most likely eating...and eating good. By the way, in addition to macaroni, cheeses, and cold cuts may I suggest Pastry Named Hurricane Year? Hurricane Cannoli, Hurricane Sfogliatelle, Hurricane Tiramisu... Good Nite All.

Nebraska soil is once again under our feet. We arrived home safely and I started our traditional Sunday night pizza while Joe unloaded the pickup and Tarka wandered around sniffing everything just to make sure she was still queen of the hill. Sterling was meowing his little head off wanting to go terrorize small rodents, insects and birds outside, but he was shocked to find out that it was 20 degrees colder on his little kitty feet than the last time he was out on Wednesday and soon came back in to curl up with Tarka to warm up.
The crust had risen, the pepperoni slices were weighed out, the five cheeses were grated and mounded up to be strewn about on the hand tossed crust and I am staring at the pizza wondering what is wrong with the picture. . .oh, yeah. . .I forgot to make sauce! That is my Sunday morning job and when I would normally have been measuring out vino, herbs and tomatoes, I was viewing beautiful fall scenery in Minnesota. Oops! So the sauce came right out of the can with a modest shake of herbs and garlic powder (oh no! say it isn't so!) . . .not bad for an emergency, but not something to brag about. . .still shaking my head about how I could forget sauce. . .
Our thoughts and prayers are with all of you in Spumoni South for safety. . .

I'm sipping the very last of my Cinzano reserves while Da Chimpz watch the Inspector Gadget movie. I understand they're all buttoned up down at Spumoni South -- albeit without any Cinzano. How can you weather a Hurrican without red vermouth?

Today I made a fairly small batch of meatballs -- no sausage, no veal, no fancy stuff. But I did have that lovely bouquet of broccoli rabe that Alane picked up yesterday. That stuff is bitter to begin with, but this stuff was so good it made my mouth sting... yeah baby! Tomorrow I'll bring lefotvers to the office for lunch. How many people will be going getting into the office tomorrow with broccoli rabe in their lunchpails? Listening to Gorillaz. Stinking of Locatelli.

I'm much too easily distracted. I went jogging this morning before Mass. At one point I pushed the sweat off my face with my hand, only to smell... the meatballs I had just rolled and broiled. Who can exercise thinking about that? The boys get distracted too -- they've just abandoned the film -- Cookie started writing words on a page and Mojo is rifling through his library books.

I think it's my night to tell stories at bedtime. Maybe something about robots. And hurricanes. And wavy potato chips.

And so we wait..............
Today was a long day. Steve and I boarded up Spumoni. Darrell helped us out and we went to his house and boarded it up.

Steve's pad is shuttered. My home is shuttered. Spumoni south is shuttered and locked down. There is an emergency escape route for Big Vin and his wheels should the need arise. Jenia and Marlena are hiding out in thier new pad in O. The sky and weather is earily nice. There are no sounds, no nature, no wind. Its dead. This was the calm before the storm last time. When it arrives it will be daytime this time. The last was in the dark. Thats the worst. No idea whats going on out there but the banging and howling is undescribable. Our last 2 hurricanes were quite unerving and unforgettable. I have never been one to worry or scare easily but its not something i had ever experienced The hurricane rushes in and it is like being in a vacuum. You cannot tell whats going on and what you can hear on the radio is all assumptions and guesswork. We sat in darkness huddled in a hallway. We watched as the doors and windows made sounds we never heard before. We watched Big Vins front doors shutter and shake behind 3/4 inch plywood. Jenia and I actually wrapped the door handles with extension cords to keep them shut. Wild stuff. Its like a new ride at great adventure.

But hey lets not forget about the snacks. I saw my mom roll 6 coolers into the house today before we sealed up the front doors. So it aint all bad. There is a rumor she procured an enormous pot of sauce for future enjoyment. Last time we made breakfast on the barbecue and washed dishes with pool water in a giant beer tub.

Well ill blog as long as i have power. They say tomorrow around 6am.

Vito...WOW.....disturbing revelations from drumgoole road. Hey V I hope you got lots of pictures of Cancun because it will never look the same. werent you there like 4 weeks? brutal.

I am eager to see Sonic of Tuckahoe ringing unsuspecting doorbells. While spiderman sneak attacks the candy bowl. Sonic will draw the attention while spidey pounces. Go Mojo. Attack and pillage. Survival of the fittest.

Well let the hunkering begin. I spoke to those residing in Spumoni South this evening because there was a Tornado spotted very close to the homestead. They stayed in seclusion and were spared or denied the fight for another day. And so we wait. My house is boarded up. Spumoni has been cleared of all debris and objects capable of taking flight. We have completed the process of hording small crunchy consumables and necessary beverages. I have not seen it yet but i know somewhere my dad has a giant bag of Ruffles Wavy Chips. A bag so big i could hunker in it. Anyway the process of turning Spumoni South into a dark room where we they will sleep and snack till Wilma returns to Bedrock will be complete tomorrow. Steve Ree and I will board the many large glass windows. We will once again stock up on batterries and water. Hide in the darkest corners of the house and radio each other till Nextel decides to shut down. Those Bastards. Always when we need communication most. Thank You Nextel. We will maintain text messaging, that seems to work for anyone wishing to be kept in the loop. I will be compiling a list of new hurricane names to email the NOAA. If i have to hunker any more it better be for something amusing. Each year a nice theme. Something to remember.

Hey remember Macaroni Hurricane season. Yes Yes Hurricane Ochi D'Lupo was a real disaster. And Hurricane Farfalle just missed us.
Maybe a year of cheeses. I know john would be interested in that. I think some people might vacation more during hurricane season if they might get caught in hurricane Havarti. That Hurricane Parmagiano Areggiano was a category 5. What a stink.
How about a year of Cuts of Meat or Cold Cuts. The options are endless. We would never repeat a year like we do now every 7 years. My suggestions go unanswered.

A hunkering I go

Greetings from Minneapolis! We were delighted to get a cell phone call from Sonic headquarters in NY telling us that the costume had arrived and Cookie was happily transformed into Sonic in the suit.

Thanks for the kind words, John. I was truly concerned about creating a project for him not having seen anything but pictures of both Cookie and Sonic. I haven't even played the game (shame on me, right?). I hope you find a way to make the mask work by snapping or basting it in or finding a suitable substitute.

Again, it was our pleasure and we are looking forward to your blogging a picture.

We bought smoked cheddar, smoked swiss, smoked bacon cheddar and white cheddar curds at the Mall of America . . .I absolutely hate shopping, but we had a great deal of fun looking through the Joe Cool Shop, Big Dogs and the Lego store. . .Joe and I both love Legos and were amazed at the new pieces that are available to today's inventors/builders. (Is that a vintage Erector set the helicopter was built from? too sweet!)

We were hoping we would find a gourmet kitchen store to purchase a new coffee/espresso machine now that World Market opened a store in Omaha that carries Medaglia D'Oro. . .

A bottle of Canei Vino Blanco is waiting for Joe to come back to the hotel room with dinner . . .in the spirit of vacation, I just ate dessert first. Joe bought truffles for a surprise and had me close my eyes as he popped a luscious dark chocolate morsel in to my mouth. . .

Good night all. . .

The eagle has landed. Or, more aptly, the hedgehog has landed. The mailtruck arrived was I was reading a scinitllating article in the WSJ about the resurgance of pleather as luxury upholstery (I shit you not). The boys were out at Rye Playland for a haunted house adventure -- they just got back, so Cookie is certain to be trying on his costume any minute now.

They watched Sonic X this morning -- taking a break from our helicopter-building project. I promised Cookie that we'd build a contraption this weekend, so I got out the Erector Set and we settled on the chopper. I told him we'd make a robot next time.

Vito's head is damaged -- but his discussion reminds us all of when Big Vin came out of his deep sleep over at ICU a while back. He allegedly opened his eyes, looked around the hospital room, and saw Bazzukajoe sitting on a chair in the corner.

"You take down those Christmas lights yet?"

When Bazzukajoe shook his head Big Vin buzzed the nurse to ask to be put back under.

It went something like that. Not as dramatic as it being the year 2049 (but now that we have to wake up Cookie and Mojo for school each morning, we're pretty sure they sleep deeper than ever before -- and it may as well be 2049 with their unwillingness to get out of bed).

Cookie will be very excited about his Sonic Hedgehog costume. He walks around the house singing a little Sonic song to himself (when he's not singing Soupy George, that is).

Even Alane is singing Soupy George, complaining that I put it in her head, as if any of this is my fault.

"Oxtail, Chicken, Mushroom, Minestrone... Soup on your head!"

Maybe this affliction will start to subside in a few days. I sure hope so. Maybe it's the time of year: something about autumn makes me want to listen to ska. So I've dug out all my English Beat, Specials and General Public (seem to be missing at least one major album from the latter group). I've also been playing lots of Toasters. Guido and I used to go out and see those guys play all the time. Those were the days...

Coming soon: photos of Sonic Hedgehog conquering Tuckahoe. We also want some snapshots from O-town -- but please, Merle, no pix of you two cooking anything.

The costume is in the hands of the US Postal Service and we are on our way to the great vast land of North Dakota for a few days. . .good luck with it John, Alane. . .I left cutting the eyes, nose and mouth out to you all. . .I also included the blue thread so that you can make alterations by taking a tuck here or there, hem it (or just cut the legs off and tuck in to the sock cuffs) . . .will be keeping my fingers cross that Cookie likes it enough to wear it at least once. .
, and to tell you the truth, I am ---not--- a good seamstress. . .maybe once I was, but no longer. . .numb hands & back neck/headaches leave me too little patience. . .and the machine has definitely seen better days. . .but thanks for the kind words. . .they are appreciated. . .I give myself an "A" for the idea and a "D" for the execution. . .

Hey Guys, sorry I haven't blogged. I was just catching up on previous blogs, and I'm so amazed that Elly is an award-winning seamstress. That's awesome. In home-ec I made a pillow and a pair of gray fleece shorts. They weren't anything to write home about, especially since I had 3 different classmates help me finish the projects. I always look up to someone who can create and repair. I'm useless with that stuff.
Ok, so tomorrow morning, whoops, it's already tomorrow morning, Jenia and I are heading up to Orlando. He has a job interview with RBC Centura Bank. Two other banks/credit unions later on in the week. I have orientation at the Elementary school on Monday morning.
We're a little concerned about Hurricane Wilma, the roads are sure to not only be slippery, but crowded. Gas is hard to come by too. POOP!
Well, I'm gonna hit the sack, goodnight.
I'll blog again tomorrow at Janine's house. Our apartment is ready on Friday, so we're gonna sleep at her house tomorrow night. 2 more days until I can cook naked...Ciao!

Had to stay late at the office tonight for a very important business meeting with some very important people who talked about some very important things (Cookie already knows what happens at business meetings: "It's where people talk and talk and talk.")

The man running this particular meeting sat at the end of the table and I paid very close attention to him throughout. Or at least I tried to. Over his shoulder I could see the kitchen area where caterers were preparing the dinner they were about to serve us. Over his head I could see them moving the trays and pans and plates. My mind wandered. Music started to play in my mental background:

"Soup on his head!"

I tried to banish the tune from my mind.

"Soup on his head!"

It was hopeless. I rode home on one of the later trains and was frustrated at how crowded it was. It stopped at every station. Even Melrose. Who the hell lives in Melrose? A wide woman with knitting needles plopped into the seat next to me -- and I mean plopped into it, jolting me against the wall and window. I closed my eyes and hoped the trip would go faster. Woodlawn. Wakefield. Who uses these stations? The wide woman continued to knit. I sang to myself, involuntarily: "Who's that man with the soup on his head? Wha-oh, wha-oh!"

Tomorrow I need to call the principal at Cookie's school to ask him what kind of zoo he's running over there. And to find out whether he ever actually reads his e-mail.

Who's that man with the soup on his head? Cookie and Mojo learned a new song this week; we were singing it this evening after they ate the black-and-white cookies I brought them from Zaro's in Grand Central.

Another www.rathergood.com gem -- not quite as haunting as Blode and the Giant Bee, but much more ska-groovy than their otherwise clever Bronski Beat send-up.

We have another gray kitty, a striped one named, The Shadow. She is aging and not gracefully. She got her name because she lived under our bed for years and we seldom saw her. So, you get a drawing I made of her instead. ha ha ha

She lives in the basement now since she cannot get along with anyone or any of our other pets. She is about 15 years old and has out-lived both Lizzie Borden, a true albino cat who died at about 13, and Battle Cat who died at about 15. He was a Maine Coon and the best cat for affection that has ever owned us.

Joe, (Airport Guy) bless his heart, came home and worked my sewing machine over and it now starts and sews once again. I want to make the spats over and he thinks I am insane, or at least, a perfectionist. I did get the hood with all the whatever-you-call-it (hedgehog spines?) sewn up tonight so I feel pretty good about the progress. . .especially since I drew it all up myself and only had to rip it up three times before I figured out how to do what I wanted to do.

Joe keeps reminding me that all the Mastandrea family has big heads, so I modeled it myself. That is my biggest concern. . .will any of the costume come close to fitting a child I have never even seen? I can see you all with hands full of safety pins trying to fit poor Cookie in to the costume. It looks big to me for a medium, but that may be because I made the legs extra long and will let you cut them off where they need to be and use Stitch Witchery to iron in the hem. . .or just tuck them in to the socks, which ever suits you all.

Alane wants to know why it is that so many of our tribe seem to have gray cats in our lives. Killer was quite an interesting creature. Just about everyone who ever spent a night at my place woke up the next morning saying the same thing:

"You're cat is insane!"

Guido described waking up flat on his back -- Killer was sitting on his head with both front paws over one eye, her head bent over and staring intently into his open eye.

That freaked him out.

As she approached old age she lost her teeth. Not all of them. She retained one fang, which she would occasionally clamp down upon my arm. But mostly she slept on my lap or on my chest -- especially in winter. A total heat-burglar, that cat.

As for the neighbors... y'know, I remember my brother being pretty handy with electronics. May I recommend something in the way of Electro-Magnetic Pulse? Or perhaps a micro-wave storm?

I'd recommend a needle-launcher, but it appears you already have one.

Well this project is more fun than a barrel of hedgehogs! The jumpsuit portion is finished and so is my sewing machine. . .*rolling eyes*. . .the shoes are a small disaster and I am thoroughly disgusted. . .my machine won't pick up the bottom thread and the flywheel spins when it shouldn't and the motor just stalls. . .which caused a needle to snap and fly out hitting me in the throat. I know of people who have run over their fingers with their sewing machine but never anyone who got a needle point stuck in their throat. Joe said he would take a look at it when he came home from work but I am not sure if he means me or the machine. I hope he can dig the rest of the needle point out of my throat, too.

Weird, but not as weird as the previous post. That picture is enough to put the fear of God in anyone.


The gray kitty with the soft claws looks a lot like our gray kitty, Sterling.
We had a pair of them but Pewter was beaten to death with a baseball bat or pipe, we presume by the wacko neighbor next door.

Sterling and Pewter

She also poisoned our squirrel corn killing 13 squirrels, her boy friend shot deer in our pasture with a cross bow (poaching is illegal, so is hunting in the city limits); poisoned our border collie puppy, planted pot in our pasture, dug out her basement for a meth lab (her boyfriend got jail time, she got probation for testifying against him); sprayed our garden mulch with wood preservative so that the border would match her fence, killing the herb garden and poisoning the soil; plus sprayed my pumpkin patch with weed killer. She also killed $150 worth of butterfly bushes with the run-off from her yard chemicals that she applies greater-than-package-strength so that none of our 'weeds' travel in to her yard. Is it any wonder we are looking for a new place to live?

I am going to go take a pain pill and a nap. Later, after Joe works on the machine, I will tackle the slouch socks, the mittens and the hood. I may have to finish the project by hand, but if my machine is throwing things at me, that might not be a bad idea.

WOW. That chain saw some action. Was there any injury? Me and steve cut down some 35 trees at Spumoni one weekend. That was interesting. I almost dropped one on him. How did the lumberjacking go in tuckahoe?

I was jealous so here is a picture of my cat, Gracie. Notice her pink nails. They are covers to stop her from tearing up the couch. She recently took up flushing the toilet as a hobby.

I am most impressed with the fact that Cookie will be sporting a custom costume this halloween. I must see pictures. For the record Jessica is percolating nicely. I think those that have seen her would say she has popped out pretty dramaticly in the last few weeks. I have felt Pee Wee or should i say Ellexa pounding on her prison cell and it was very cool.

I was wondering if alane had ever seen Braian Peppers? He is the reason for her little people phobia. I think i may dress as him for halloween. Look him up. Very disturbing. His parents were brother and sister. really..

Hey John. Hows that for more pictures...........

Cookie said something unintentionally revealing today. He was walking around the house without a shirt. It was a windy, chilly day so I asked him how he didn't feel cold.

"It's not cold in my world," he replied.

We always knew the Cookie operated in his own little world. We never realized his parallel universe actually had its own climate.

Currently all male members of the Mastandrea Clan are out back with Guido, Julio and a chain saw and chipper. Visions of Fargo dance in my head. I have stayed as far away from this project as possible. I immediately sensed a problem when John apparently is the most experienced in the handling of the chain saw. When that thing lets rip--I will bring Cookie and Mojo inside.

Cookie is not exceedingly tall or long legged. I believe that bee costume was way too small on him. It was maybe meant for Mojo or maybe Grandpa Vito bought it because it was buy one get seventy free, as he also bought these very odd plush firemen and policemen costumes. We tried to get Mojo into it and he laughed in our face. Cookie was game. Cookie is most thrilled at the thought that his Sonic dream is coming true. I believe that you will have won his undying devotion. Most definitely a best relative award. I really hope this isn't too much trouble. I am so thankful.

I really enjoyed the Bee song and the little movie. . .so cute!
Well. . .a trip to WallyWorld was necessary to find the material for Sonic. . .but I was able to find bright blue for the body, flesh tan for the arms and face and tummy, red for the shoes and white fuzzy for the accents on the face, spats, gloves and socks. . .all in the same weight material plus a teddy bear costume that I will cut out and re-design. . .it looks as though Cookie might be a little long-legged for last year's costume, so should I make the pant legs a bit long? You can always 'slouch' them a bit under the white socks Sonic wears. . .if all goes well, you won't need to buy him the white socks or the gloves. . .the pattern has spats to go over his shoes and I will just add white slouch "socks" to the top cuff. . .and it also has mittens. . .they will be white with the big roll on the cuff if Cookie can stand to have mitten paws rather than fingers. . . I am sorry that the nap isn't a bit more fuzzy, but it is the best I could do without having a bit of a miss-match in fabric weight which is doubly hard to sew. I am going to stuff the what-ever-you-call his appendages on his shoulders, back and tail with fiber fill. . .if he were older I would make armature with wire so that he could control them, but that might be too much for a little Sonic and maybe even for an old woman like me. . .the eyebrow ridge looks like I might have to hand sew it on as well as the big white eyes and flesh colored cheeks, but that isn't a problem. You will have to cut out the holes for his eyes and nose and mouth since I can't guess where they will be.

Ah, so Cookie will have a fun Halloween after all -- not like the Odd-Job Costume-Torture Horror-Ritual that Vito perpetrated upon him last year. Poor kid wouldn't go trick-or-treating like that... But at least he had a chance to sing his favorite song from rathergood.com... Outside... In broad daylight... Where the neighbors could see.

Okay, if a 5-6 will work, I will go to the fabric store and get a pattern I can modify and make for him. I already went through my fabric box and pulled out the blue. . .also. . .what shoe size so I can make the red/white shoe toppers for his feet. . .I always made my kids' costumes and they took home prizes every year they were in contests. . .I made Jay-Aaron a dragon costume so long and elaborate, we had to load him in the back of a pickup truck to get him to the parade. . .it took me a month of cutting cardboard, painting and sewing. . .I think I got over my obsessive costume making by the time that project was over. . .Sonic back
and sonic front are the images I will try to match up. . .I just need the body suit pattern which I will pick up tonight or tomorrow at the store and I can decorate the rest. . .get it in the mail before we leave on Thursday for North Dakota. . .if I can. . .

I never thought to look at a craft store for a sonic costume pattern as I am about as Home Ec challenged as one can be. Once I attempted to sew with help from my friend Kay and as far as I got was trying to pin down the pattern before throwing all at the wall and deciding to stick to simpler pursuits. Any help with the Sonic dilemma would be appreciated. This is the pathetic discussion I hear when someone asks Cookie about what he will be for Halloween:

Person: What are you going to be for Halloween?
Cookie: (sporting a very sad and forlorn face). I don't know.
Person: There's nothing you want to be?
Cookie: Yeah--Sonic, but Mommy says they don't make him any more.
I don't know why, he's the best. Nothing else, I want to be.

On the other hand, I took Mojo to the store to get his Spiderman costume. I was most excited because they had it in his size and for $ 10.00. Unfortunately, it was one of those party stores where all the costumes are in the stockroom and they have pictures with numbers and you ask for the number you need. Mojo stood looking at the sign and says--I don't want to be Spiderman. I want to be a gunner. (Joseph calls all things army and camaflouge gunner--he was looking at a G.I. Joe type costume). I told him I didn't believe that the semi-automatic the kid had strapped to him came with the costume. Mojo says--but its in the picture. Which made me realize that it was not the costume that had him enthralled, but the way to circumvent my no toy guns rule. I then said that even should it come with the costume--I would allow him to carry it for Halloween and then the gun would go away. Mojo then said--No I don't want to be a gunner.

That's quite a nice dog you all have in Nebraska. I looked at Tarka quickly and thought John had posted something about Octo the wonder dog from upstairs. I wish we could have a dog. My family had Chocolate Labs and I loved them. And I'm one of those people that think dogs and boys are like peanut butter and jelly. I've even done research on breeds. I'm partial to Labs, but John Paul fell in love with an American bulldog we saw and they seem like a pretty good dog too.

I think I showed a picture of Tarka, our long-haird Akita dogger at Spumoni South.

I finalized plans to instruct in CT the week before Thanksgiving. I'll be arriving on Saturday, November 12 since the plane ticket isn't more expensive to fly out early this time. I need to deliver the Chimps' Christmas preseant early since Santa misrouted it here. Should I (and the gift) make it safely the Chimps no longer need a Nintendo Gamecube, extra controller, the Legend of Zelda: the Wind Maker, and a 32 MB memory card. John you better watch out for Zelda. The Nintendo 64version was addictive and surely added to the need for my carpal tunnel surgery.

I apologize for not blogging sooner I've been teaching attending training most of the last three weeks. You'd think that eventually I'd earn a free room from all of this travel but so far I have is what looks like a respectable number of points. Looks can be deceiving. Maybe the three trips I have planned later this year will push me over the top.

Will you quit hogging all the rain on the east coast? We're in a drought here!

Tarka is the most photogenic person in our household with maybe the exception of Sterling the cat. . .best you are going to get from us. . .

And speaking of Sonic the Hedgehog. . .have you looked for a pattern at the fabric store? What size would you need? Perhaps I could sew one up. . .or I can ask my friend in Japan to look for one. . .her daughter is a model and loves to shop. . .second hand stores and thrift shops are just now catching on there and it's something Susan loves to do. . .she also teaches preschool and elementary English, so she has contacts with children. . . just a thought. . .

There was a small drama unfolding this week beneath the rain-swept city. I first spotted this on Thursday morning, walking through the Rockefeller Center Concourse to escape the biblical flood. In the corridor that passes beneath Sixth Avenue a mop-weilding custodian was desperately trying to mop up the water that had been tracked in by the thousands of people hurrying past. He looked a little like an annoyed Goerge Carlin. He seemed to think that people should avoid walking on the part of the floor he had just mopped. But given the number of people passing through that passageway, he may as well have been raging against the tide. As I passed him, he had mounted the short set of stairs in a wide stance, mopping with broad arm-strokes, trying to take up as much space as possible to keep people from passing him -- and still people climbed past his swinging mop-pole... pissing him off mightily.

I kept walking and forgot all about it.

Yesterday I passed through that very same spot -- and there he was again! Still mopping, still annoyed. This time he brought several of those plastice "Wet Floor" signs that you set on the floor to keep people away. But even that was totally ineffectual: people walked right between the signs and past the infuriated worker.

I wondered when the rain would stop (today, turns out) and further wondered what steps Janitor-in-a-Huff would take next to keep people from trampling his handiwork. Police tape? Barbed wire? Proximity mines?

I loved this story about cheap umbrellas -- reminds me of being on the F train one day in the eaqrly 1980s, coming home from school on a rainy day. A old black man walked through the cars holding a full shopping bag, slowly announcing to passengers:

"Umbrellas... Three dollars and no tax. Because, it's raining, outside..."

I keep forgetting to mention my Discover Card. Sure, I've told the story about how I'm through with that account: you can read the history here and here. I have resolved to not use the card anymore but never got around to actually closing the account.

A few months ago, some bozo from Discover called to ask me why I don't use the card anymore.

"Oh yeah, I've been meaning to cancel that card. Can you cancel that from where you are?" Of course he could not. I explained to him the prior experience with mindless telemarketing. He thanked me for my time and said he looked forward to doing further business with me which was a comical way of telling me he wasn't listening to a word I was saying. Then I forgot all about it.

Until this week when I got another call from Discover -- this time to tell me about a great new interest rate for balance transfer.

"What is the interest rate on your other cards," he excitedly asked. I replied with a question:

"Why are you calling me? Did you check my account before calling me? You notice I don't use your card anymore? Wanna know why? Because you people are always trying to sell shit to me!"

I asked him if he could cancel my account; he offered to put me through to customer service. I told him I didn't have time, forget it.

They'll probably call me again with other offers; when they do I shall blog it.

Ooh, I know what you're talking about. I had a dear friend named Kristin that always wore those masks. It was scary because the mask was clear with an arch for the bridge of the nose and holes for the nostrils. It also had blush where the cheeks are. Very scary, and it distorted your face underneath. I say go as the blue dinosaur with a name tag. Cookie'll think it's genius! Hey, make sure I get pictures!
So I was referred to an Allergist to be tested for food allergies. The procedure starts off with someone lubing up your back, writing all over it, and sticking little needlelike sponges with common food allergens on them and pricking your back. Not only were my nerves shot and jumping for no reason, I think I was bleeding a little bit. To make a long story short, after 18 minutes, if your body reacted to the allergens with red inflammation, you're allergic to that particular food. HEAR THIS COCKADOODIE: I am allergic to: STRAWBERRIES, ORANGES, LEMONS, WHEAT, RICE, BUCKWHEAT, SWEET POTATOES, TURKEY, GREEN OLIVES, CAULIFLOWER, and CANTALOUPE.
I'm gonna go drown my sorrows in some Tofurkey lettuce wrap.

Yesterday Mojo and I went to Target to find his Halloween costume. He wants to be Spiderman so I figured I could get that costume at any time. Of course, I got there and all the Spidermen costumes in his size were gone. So I must continue looking.

While there I saw some education thing to teach the ABC's. It had one of the characters Mojo likes so I asked if he wanted me to get it. He looked at it and said, "Is that about the ABC's?" I said Yes and he told me, "NO, I hate the ABC's." He then proceeded to explain to me that he will never learn the ABC's. I told him this would make kindergarten difficult and indeed he would never go any further in his schooling.

While searching for the elusive Spiderman costume may take a little time, Cookie's costume wish is probably beyond my ability. He wants to be Sonic the Hedgehog. I went on-line to seek the coveted Hedgehog only to find that although at one point they made the costume it has been discontinued. So I went on Ebay thinking maybe someone was selling one. Sure enough, there was about 10 items. Some were not even full costumes, but just that plastic cheesy mask with the elastic. To my amazement, none of the items, not even just the mask was selling for less than $ 30.00. Alot were up close to $75. Although, I would love for Cookie to be Sonic--no way am I paying that much.

So now I'm trying to figure out if I can some how cobble together a Sonic costume. I figure it could not look any worse than the Costume they were selling. Although people may believe that Cookie is some sort of giant blue dinosaur unless I put a sonic name tag on it.

This is more rain than we've seen in a while around here -- a solid day of steady rain yesterday, just like we had over the weekend, just like what we're supposed to have again today.

I need a better umbrella. I'm tired of getting to work and needing to change my pants.

This morning I decided to retire an old pair of mutandes. Cookie spotted them in the trash and asked me why I was throwing away my underwear.

"Because they're old and they don't fit me right," I said. He nodded, and I should have stopped there, but for good measure I added: "They don't fit over my ochinchi."

He laughed and laughed. As I left the kitchen I heard him say to Alane:

"Daddy has a giant ochinchi!"

Which, of course, is not what I said. I was particularly concerned that he might decide to share this "insight" at school -- I pictured receiving alarmed (or just plain curious) calls from school.

I should have known better: never voluntarily discard your boxer shorts. And if you do, always have a good cover story ready.

What this blog needs is more photos. And more blogging. (You hear that Florida? Nebraska? North Carolina?)

Anyway, I've been meaning to get this photo in front of Joe-maha since his triumphant march through the South (well, through Nick's Tomato Pie). This snapshot came during Bazzukajoe's rehearsal dinner, one night before his wedding, one night after we went to the car-wash to polish the mudflaps.

Today was cool and damp and we didn't do very much except organize some paperwork, make some chicken-salad, and play a little ball with the boys in the drizzly front walk. Did see Xavier High School on television -- it appears Scalia got them moved to the very front of today's parade (now that's the kind of government-offical string-pulling I actually like to see), so I got to see the X-Squad do about two moves, saw First Battalion slouch forward behind them in their Class A greens ("Get in step, you goons!"), and wondered when the band adopted a different uniform. Then they went to a commercial. Which was okay -- Cookie was ready to play Sonic. He's always ready to play Sonic.

Here's something I never imagined typing onto this blog: Tonight I met Uncle Floyd. We've been planning this night out for weeks, ever since we read the church bulletin announcing Floyd's appearance. So here's another thing I didn't expect to be saying: His act was great. Being a Knights of Columbus event it was heavy on the ethnic shtick, and quite entertaining. I can't even try to replicate it here, but I do recall one part of his childhood reminiscence, searching for his lost Mr. Potato-Head doll, having his mother tell him "It's right there on your plate, under the ssshcarole."

There was a fellow sitting at our table who apparently knew Floyd from way back -- Floyd came over to our table and the two exchanged hilarious stories. I told Floyd that I'd seen him perform at Brooklyn College back in 1981; I told him we actually subscribed to Wometco Home Theater (a running joke on his show back then).

Some of the material Floyd delivered tonight was vaguely familiar (the Hawaiian music jokes he performed 20-something years ago with Loony Skip Rooney); but the rest was just down-home fun.

And now we're home, having driven through the crazy rain that has poured on us for the last 24 hours. It's late and I need to get some sleep. But I still need to find that Uncle Floyd Show pin because I know it's around here somewhere.

Oh, and by the way: halfway through the dinner, Alane snarkily asked when they were going to play songs from Lou Monte. Well, the joke was on her -- the DJ played Ce La Luna twice: one sung my Louis Prima and later the Lou Monte version... So there.

Your children are brilliant. I'm not even being remotely nice or biased. It's unbelievable. I can see Cookie whipping major Asian/Middle Eastern booty in the National Spelling Bee Competition. (It's about time we get some Italians in the race.) Your boys are genius material. I'm telling the world!

I can only imagine how tasty those delicious liquours were. Those flavors even when of recent vintage are nasty, age can only intensify the nastiness. You all should have told John you were drinking the Creme of Cacao as he had recently bought some and could have joined you in the endeavor.

John mentioned that we put on the Uncle Floyd show for my folks. What he left out was Cookie's reaction to it. After a skit about duck something, Cookie's statement was, "This is not funny." After another skit Cookie stated, "This is nonsense." I couldn't have agreed more.

Yesterday as all good Italians do (and those Italian by marriage do), we spoke of the that hero Christopher Columbus. Cookie was explaining the whole thing about the people believing the world was flat. My dad said then, "Well if the world is round and you sail around the bottom, why don't you fall off?" Cookie had no response. Mojo who was just standing around said, "Because of gravity." We all just stared in amazement wondering if he would next break into an explanation of the theory of relativity

Merle speaks truth: those are some seriously bash-eyed photos. Brandi IM'd me this week to ask me: "Who are those people?" because she didn't recognize everyone with all the light refracting through those multi-colored astringents.

All of this motivated me to stop at the Bronxville liquor store after leaving Tommy's barber shop this morning to pick up a large bottle of Cinzano. Perhaps I'll need some when I get home tonight (Alane and I will be at the Knights of Columbus dinner with, yes, Uncle Floyd; details are sure to follow).

Joe-hio and Jean are here and they will watch the chimpz while we are out. I made them watch a few Uncle Floyd Show videos. They are appalled that I ever would have watched such a show, much less have a tape of it ("People watched that stuff?"). Maybe next I'll make them watch the video I asked Steve and Bazzukajoe to make for me of the Fishbone concert broadcast on HBO back in the early 1990s. If I remember correctly, they had the same look of bewilderment on their faces ("People listen to that music?").

I think I know where that tape is. I do not know where the Uncle Floyd Show button is (so, alas, I cannot wear it to tonight's show).

Those drinks were so old, and they were all open. We figured they had made about 4 moves. 1. Before wedding (Pre-Marie) 2. Into 1526 38th St.
3. Marissa Circle (at least 13yr. old at this point) 4. Jupiter Lakes Blvd, 5. Jupiter Farms.
5 moves, oh that's disgusting. Jenia thought it was a party, him and Joey took the funniest bash eyed pictures ever! The labels on the bottles were so old that the recipes they offered were extinct. Well, to my mother they probably were still alive and vibrant being served at the local Shriner's Club meetings. My mother had talked about making a Brandy Alexander, and we were all lost, the recipe on the bottle couldn't tell us how to make a Brandy Alexander, but it told us how to make Alexander's Brother. (How Creepy!!) Red Headed Sluts, Dog Farts, Sex on the Beach, Blue Hurricane, these names are too wild, in my mom's day they were looking for more subtle yet virtual mutant robotic regenerating elixir-friendly names. Ya know, something catchy.

I have been waiting for a blog about an interesting dinner i did not attend at Spumoni South while my parents were on a cruise. Can merle or ree elabborate?

So I had dinner the other night with Joe Shtrimps. He and his wife and son were in town for some R&R. We went to Brewzii's at Cityplace. Not to be confused with Brunza. I had never met Joe's son Frank and had no idea what to expect. My prior conversations with him had been about his son being out of control. We get there and his son was a pretty funny little guy. Remarkably the child does not look like either of his parents. He looks like someone else's kid. He did not speak much and Joe told me he had a speech therapist, at 2 years old. Someone should have gotten Joe a speech therapist. Anyway. Fun night. You know how it goes with us. It took 5 seconds for me to get the kid worked up. He was chasing me around Cityplace and playing the drums on the table with spoons.

- Speaking of worked up i found that giant pair of inflatable boxing gloves that your boys were soooooo interested in.
- How did that Hulk Hands thing go? Did anyone even notice or did homeland security do a full cavity search?

So we had dinner at Spumoni to celebrate the 34th anniversary of our parents. Lasagna. Amazing. Post dinner discussion or arguing, however you may see it, led to the mini coffee mug shot glasses. I began searching for the 2 mug shot glasses (john had brought them up recently as well). In my search i found a treasure trove of bottles i had never seen before.

Several were small and in vibrant colors. They reminded me of an old movie "Darby O'Gill and the Little People" (Rent it for the men. It's a kids movie) So Shteef, Jeniak and myself join Big Vin (small as he may be big refers to the personality) in trying this rainbow of drink. Jenia remarked that the green one was great, it tasted like Lester Een. I think he works at publix... Not sure. The yellow tasted like banana. We chopped up a banana and served it to Merle but she used it only for the photo op I sent. The orange one was peach and we found a bottle of Creme D'Cacoa. It was good. It had a hershey syrup kinda tase. We also feasted on Galliano, not my favorite but smooth. My mom consistently brought up Brandy Alexander but we still have no idea what it refered to. All in all an interesting night. Even Ree tryed out a shot or too. We had to take a picture of it because ino would believe they looked that way. Big Vin informed us that those bottle were over 30 years old. Luckily none had red cherries in them.

This week I saw photographs of strange and ancient potions and elixirs served in elegant stemware. The liquids were of various colors and viscosity and were consumed by men with astonishingly large heads.

I thought there would be a blog report, but nothing yet.

What gives?

Like most four-year-olds, Mojo has imaginary friends. He refers to them as "my little men" and he most often describes them as being engaged in some contraption-building activity in support of Cookie and Mojo's greater schemes.

We suspect these "little men" are the cartoon construction workers who appear in the Tonka computer game the boys have played for years. Once the player operates the Tonka rig to dig the hole, the little men in hard-hats scurry out and build, say, the wooden forms for casting the concrete foundation. Then the player operates the cement mixer to pour the foundation, and the little men scurry out again to set up the next stage of construction. And so on.

On our way to New Paltz yesterday Mojo informed us that his little men were also going to the corn maze. Except they weren't in the car with us -- they were traveling in a flying car. We told him it was a long trip and we hoped his little men didn't run out of gas. He assured us it was okay because his little men also have a flying gas station.

And that represents an expansion of the little men's involvement in the oil industry: earlier this summer, Mojo told us his little men operate a conventional gas station. Its name: Um'Bo M'Bummbo. He said at Um'Bo M'Bummbo they cleaned the cars and put gas in the tires. We told him that was a bad idea because the wheels would explode and that made him laugh like a maniac.

So anyway, now the little men run refueling tankers in additional to service stations.

Right now a bunch of those apples are in the oven in the form of a pie. Mojo's little men were no apparent help in the effort. Alane did the pie-prep herself, noting that at least she would follow a recipe and therefore have a greater likelihood of success than I ever would.

We'll see about that.

Today we celebrated Alane's birthday by driving out to a farm and putting everyone to work. We walked through a corn maze. Picked apples. Stumbled through a giant pumpkin patch.

On the way back we stopped to eat at Gordo's (oohhh, yeaaaahhh). We haven't been there in years -- even when we lived in Valhalla we weren't exactly regulars, but the BBQ is still pretty good.

Tonight we ate cake with all the Petronio's. Guido blew the shofar, signalling the sacredness of the holiday. (Okay, it was an airhorn... and he was just trying to startle us... and those attempts were successful.)

Next week: Uncle Floyd. I can't find my pin (the one I got when I saw his show at Brooklyn College in 1981; the same pin Joey Ramone wears in the Rock and Roll High School video). I must find that pin. I must find that pin!