It got a little frosty around here this morning -- I'm thinking of stacking some logs in the fireplace and getting my blaze on. Sun is out now, so maybe I should take care of some yard issues before settling too comfortably with a fire and that bottle of nero d'avola I got yesterday. The sauce still has another four hours until we can eat it... I guess I should get some things done in that interim.

Too bad the baseball game isn't on during the day -- maybe I'd see more of it. Last night's game didn't seem like much of a game so I switched channels and, finding nothing interesting, went upstairs to read until sleep took me away. Too bad MLB thinks it has to run those games so late in the evening -- it's such an effort to watch even a portion of those slow-moving late-night games, and forget having the kids watch a full game. It's almost like they don't want people to watch. I'm happy to oblige. At least if it was on in the afternoon I'd put it on while doing other things.

Mojo is out at a birthday party for one of his little school buddies. That leaves me here with Cookie. Maybe I'll take him outside with me to spread topsoil. He likes dirt.

Did I ever point out that air travel is blowjhinski?

Actually, yesterday's return trip wasn't all that bad. Got to stand a lot, and that made things better for my busted spine. I never did get to the Stinking Rose, but I think I ate a lot of garlic anyway. And everything else.

Today's WSJ has an article about video games that get fried -- along with the players -- during lightning storms. I made Cookie read the first few paragraphs out loud. He was unmoved by the danger, asking only: "Can I go now?"

Last night we all ate dinner at Ducca, the new Eye-talian restaurant in the Westin. Great food. I ordered the bison strip steak. Never had bison before. All I could do was keep repeating to myself "smells like fresh bison!" to people who don't remember Ren & Stimpy quite as well as I do. But when reminded, they too had their favorite scenes.

Then we walked back to the Palace and met some very interesting and aggresive panhandlers -- reminded me of the old days outside Penn Station!

Got out early this morning to get a pound of French Roast cofee beans from Peet's -- I think it'll be pretty good. Haven't been to NYC for a while so I haven't been able to stock up from Oren's.

Excellent! I will add it to the flash cards so she will be prepared the next time we see the Ohio Clan.
San Francisco is a beautiful city and quite expensive. Lots of bars but you should dine at a place
called THE STINKING ROSE. The whole menu revolves around garlic, the stinkin rose,and you can actually get a shot of garlic vodka at the bar for a buck. Good luck. Have you been to Lombard Street? How would you like to jog that once a day? Its very interesting.

How did the pinewood derby go? Did the Mastandrea Meatwagon destroy the competiton?

Update:
We have yet to find a car. I have given up.
Ellexa is speaking in sentences her father is no longer.
For Halloween She will be dressed as Princess Lea. I hope the boys
will sense a great disturbance in the force from ohio

Oh, and in response to Bazzukajoe's latest report on Ellexa's vocabulary, I have but two words.

- Mortadella.

- Youtube.

Need we say anything more?

We got some nice weather here in San Francisco. And the office has windows that open -- sweet. Been staying at the Palace Hotel -- very palatial. There was some fire-related haze in the air when I landed yesterday but that seems to have cleared up as the winds are now on-shore.

Tonight, we eat Italian food.

I have decided that shopping for a new car is probably the worst thing i can imagine. I think i would prefer a good kick in the ass or possibly a good puch in the head. Where do they recruit these people? It seems like they should get some sort of tax break for the amount of douche bags congregated under one roof. Just once i want the guy to say,"no sir -you cannot afford that car" I need room for 2 car seats and i cannot afford more than a $300 car payment. So show me the car in my realm not the car thats going to take you 2 hours to discover the lowest payment possible is $480. Sometimes I think these are the places you bring uncle vito and my dad. If there were ever a group of annoying ass heads that deserve to be dragged out all over the lot for half a day only to find out the answer is "NO,i don't think i want that one." I would love to see the guys face after all the haggling and paperwork and loan approval comes through only for my dad to change his mind about the whole thing because the floor mats look a bit scuffed and they wont replace them. I am over the whole thing. I think you should just get online and pick out the car and all its options and it should show up at your house in a week.
No need for douchinteraction.

I hope a mastandrea comes in first at the pinewood derby. Do you get to sell advertising space on your car like jeff gordon? Make steve send you a blackouts sticker or two. I think a hood decal with a large meatball dripping with sauce is enough said.

ellexa is speaking a lot. everything is amusing.She decided to call me joe all day today. Yesterday i came home from work and she was feeding and changing her doll. She repeats everything and its quite amusing. She rambles on and on and we just stare and try to interpret what it is she is trying to say. Tomorrow we satrt learning the vast array of cured and salted meats. We will keep everyone up to date on her progress.
I believe we will start with:
CAPICOLA
GENOA SALAMI
PROSCUITTO

So the Indians completed their baseball season in quintessential Cleveland style last night -- lame. I did a lot of channel-surfing last night so I only saw some of the game; I clicked off the TV while the game was still close. After Saturday night's bashing, everyone around here was pretty much resigned to a loss -- even in the homily at Mass yesterday morning there was a brief mention of "they tried their best" -- delivered in the context of a "never-give-up" message, no less.

After Mass was the Raingutter Regatta. The boys had lots of fun, but alas, no prizes. Mojo already has his Pinewood Derby car kit. Good thing I didn't put the tools away after making their sailboats.

If you look closely at the photo of Mojo, you can discern that powdered doughnuts were available at this event.

Took Da Chimpz to Home Depot just now to get some spray paint -- tomorrow is the Raingutter Regatta for their scout pack, so we've spent some of the day prepping their boats.

Hey, that's better than last year's race when I opened the boat kit about 40 minutes before we had to walk out the door. The paint was drying on it as we sat through the 9 o'clock Mass and the hull was still tacky as we dropped it into the water.

We also bought dirt at Home Depot -- some topsoil and some garden soil that I needed for around the yard. As we drove, Cookie asked if he could have some of the dirt. I told him no. Then he said he couldn't wait until he was old enough to go out and buy his own dirt.

The kid has aspirations.

It was a dark and stormy night....

Unfortunately, local TV weatherman Dave Cocciarella is no Rob Lopicola. You have to see the video to believe how hard it is to say "toward Ferndale."

He might as well have said, "Brunz."

Been catching up on the London music scene, courtesy of Tom O's blog. Reading it only reminds me of my age. Street-level music? I think ska. But that time is measured in decades. Even my turn to electronica has grown long in the tooth -- it was nearly ten years ago that Oakley the Elder slipped me my first Fat Boy Slim CD. But how long can one do the Rockefeller Skank and still maintain a straight face?

My latest finds aren't even current: this Meatbeat Manifesto is a few years old already; and this Infected Mushroom I can't even find the sell-by date. I'm not even sure it's still acceptable to be as excited as I am over the recent Chemical Brothers release. Them geezers have been around for ages...

Anyway, I will continue to read Tom's blog, and will post outrageous comments there as well. Because I suddenly feel I have a lot to say about music.

When I talked to Alane on the phone earlier today, I gave her directions to the restaurant. That can only mean one thing: tonight she will be eating the cheesesteak sandwich that beat Boby Flay in the Throwdown.

And if she doesn't eat that sandwich, I might have to head over there myself.

What's amazing isn't so much the depth of the hatred that Steve's mailman has for him, but the tenacity and longevity of that hatred.

Truly impressive. Do they train people for this in Postal Worker Academy?

Da Chimpz are finishing their showers... Alane decreed earlier as she passed them in the living room and announced that they smell like dog. Could be from the wiener dog they and the other Cub Scouts were playing with at Settlers Landing today. Cookie's den took them all out there as a Go See It event -- rode the RTA trains, explored the river's edge, played with a couple of dogs out for a run, and read the bronze plaque that explained how Old Man Cleaveland landed there in 1796, hung around for a little while, then wisely headed back to Connecticut from which he never returned.

Could he have suffered from the Connecticut Malaise?

It's possible. Alane is out of town for the next few days and she has composed a veritable user manual meant to guide me through the care and feeding of Cookie and Mojo. I had planned to wing it -- I'm pretty sure we can get by smashingly using just our male instincts. We've got plenty of chips. And firewood.

And so the weekend is shot. Jess and I sit in our house......It almost feels like a return of the Roto Attack that happenened in Jupiter so long ago. Good thing our toilets can flush a roast beef. I have gone with such force that it almost resembles a mug of lager with a foam head. So i leave you with that for the moment.

Just got back from a hay ride. It was a school event, held at the Chalet -- the place where Ree and Maloof did the toboggan run with Cookie and Mojo last Thanksgiving week. They had a nice set-up, especially the fireplaces -- because damn it's gotten cold around here. Into the 40s, for cryin' out loud. I should've worn more than a sweatshirt. My kidneys were knocking together.

The hay ride itself was raucous, with the carts pulling up alongside each other frequently to allow the kids to wail armfuls of hay at each other. The carts went out with a thick layer of hay on the floors; they returned pretty much bare. Fun -- but not quite as much fun as watching Cookie compete hard in the dance contest. He really wanted some kind of trophy...

Now we're sitting here watching the Indians catch a beating from the Red Sox.

Took Da Chimpz to the mall just now -- wanted to find out just how lame the local Waldenbooks really is. Answer: really lame.

So we wandered into the food court (Mojo asked if the food would argue its case and if we would be judges... wise guy).

We got pizza from Sbarros and sat down. I told them the story of when I was a kid and we'd bug Vito to take us into Manhattan so we could walk around those wacky electronics shops near 34th Street. He'd often take us to Sbarros and we'd eat crazy amounts of food before getting back on the F train to head back to Brooklyn.

Cookie listened intently and said "So this is sort of a flashback for you?"

"Well, not really," I said. "This is a mall. In Ohio. And Sbarros pizza used to be a lot better."

Now if I could just find a bagel shop like the one that used to be by the stairwell in Penn Station -- then I might have a flashback.

OK, this qualifies as bizarre: night is falling here at Berea-Rose so I'm tuning my radio to one of the NYC stations -- something I do from time to time. But instead of hearing the traffic report for the FDR Drive, I'm getting Louie Prima singing Ce La Luna. That's not what I expected.

What the hell station is this? Now they're playing Caledonia. She got great big feet.

Yesterday morning we still had the A/C on -- that's how hot it's been around here. Tonight, I think we'll need to turn on the heat. It's pretty damned cold in the 40s.

Da Chimpz have half a day of school tomorrow. And Friday, no school at all. WTF?

Good work, Marlena. I always tend to think of Vin as more of a kung fu master. Mental kung fu.

On Sunday Big Vin was a model for my Yoga Research Project/Presentation. I did it on Wheelchair Yoga, there is no such thing as wheelchair yoga, it's more of a chair yoga, so I was really on my own with this one. I contacted the Office of Students with Disabilities at the local college, Veteran's Affairs, and I contacted those in the medical circuit as well,just to name a few. But my father was great, he performed each move in front of an audience, never faltered, and was amazing under the pressure. When I say pressure, I mean the endurance, and difficulty of the move. Everyone kept saying how cute he was, and wanted to talk to him. Marie and Jenia were in attendance too, they even joined in on a little light yoga practice with guided meditation. I was honored. Ok, so my father wants me to practice that Yoga with him on a regular basis, I think I accomplished the impossible! It was "vinnyoga," as John said.

Wow -- a day off from work. We spent some time cleaning the house. I changed the dust-bag on the vacuum cleaner for the first time in, er, a long time. Fired that thing up and had some serious suction working on that living room carpet. Got too close to the TV table and sucked up half the Wii controllers. Snapped a wire to the IR sensor, so now the thing is busted.

I ordered the replacement part online -- hope it gets here soon.

Hotter than hell around here today.

Someone has to make sure Big Kahuna and Don Vito get a chance to watch this clip. It was filmed during those jolly days prior to NYC's descent into Third World status.

One of the must-have items we purchased yesterday was a mini-bullhorn voice modulator. Set the buttons in various ways and it changes your voice -- Da Chimpz love it. We also got Halloween costumes. The boys are following a Star Wars theme this year. Cookie has been raging around the house with his light-saber since yesterday. He is now intoning to his brother, over the voice modulator: "Luke, I am your father. Join me on the Death Star... We have pie on Wednesdays on Fridays."

Dill pickle flavor is nothing. You need to go to a Dollar General store. There is always a strange smell of old musty clothes almost like a goodwill kinda scent. They always have a disturbing assortment of things, which why i go. I recently saw Charles Chips Ketchup flavored chips and Worcesteshire Flavor chips. Hand down though......I still find salt and vinegar chips as the most appalling. Smell like a pair of cleats after game 7 of the world series.

Ahh yes my moving day was interesting to say the least. The spanish women that kept rubbing steves arm after i yanked mine away from her. She kept babbling in spanish and pointing at her stomach. The shrink wrapping of my couch was awesome. We were trying to jess and her mom to sit on it first but suddenly they didn't feel like sitting.It was obvious Pat had done this before. I was thinking this could be how he wrapped the soup can, it would answer a lot. We moved each piece stealthly into the house as if there were a baby sleeping. All to not disturb the paint and cause a disturbance in the force. Mid lift he could here the high pitched scream of the paint being nicked by the crib. I thought i said be careful..........no metal hangers.
Most interesting were the 2 hand trucks brought over to assist in the move. 1 was plastic and could barely hold a box of pillows. The other looked like it was used to move some of the animal crates onto Noah's Ark. I swear it had metal wheels and squeeled as we pushed it. It was amazing. The rain was biblical. Nonstop. What i dont understand is how it could monsoon and still be 112 degrees outside.

I went to the post office and filled out a change of address form. The lady said this is all you need and it will be processed today. Awesome. Finally something easy. I have received only 2 letters so far. both from the post office to tell me my address was changed and if i am the previous resident mail in the card. 2 weeks and i still get this lady's mail.I was thinking why is this not working. Yesterday i get a confirmation of address change from the post office. It said no magazines or catalogs will be re routed. No standard mail will be forwarded.So why did i change my address? So the post master can send me letters explaining why i am not. And so i can recieve offers for limited edition stamps. Is this insanity? Today i recieved the previous residents mail, bills and magazine. I officially give up.

That painting is more like a frieda khalo if you ask me. It will actually be hung at spumoni south so they dont get lonely. Its something by one of the fettuccini's.

I eagerly await the day John Paul and Jojo meet Peanut, whom we have not decided on a nem for as of yet.

It appears that it might be quite the cultural weekend here. Today as John described, it was the anthropological study of the bizarre characters of Wal-Mart, the wing place, and the Bates Hotel.

Tomorrow will be a multicultural event. John and the boys are attending a boys scout meeting then attending a Indian Powwow. And I don't mean Chief Wahoo, either. The local college is hosting a Native American Powwow. We drove by and they had erected a huge Teepee. Now, it has been a good many years since my 8th grade Ohio History class, but I do not remember any of the indigenous people of Ohio residing in Teepees.

While the boys are delving into Native American culture, I will troop off on my own to attend the Polish Festival with a couple of my friends that live in the neighborhood where it is happening. This will be a culinary wonder I am sure. One of the main reasons I am going is the church that is hosting the event acquired one of John Paul II's mitres and have it on display. They also have apparently had an Icon of John Paul done. This fascinated me to no end, because I did not realize that there were still people that did iconning or whatever it is called. So I will go check it out.

Because the State of Ohio is obviously anti-Italian, the boys do not have off for Columbus day. (even though they go to Catholic school, the public school has school too). This means John and I have a free day. We are both off. I have tried to convince John to go over to Cleveland's Little Italy for their Columbus Day parade, but he is being a killjoy. I feel this would be a wonderful way to end our weekend of culture. Indeed, I have almost convinced myself to go alone even if others rather just sit about and do not celebrate their heritage.

Today while at Wal-Mart, I had to purchase Pringles. Yes that's right had to. Mojo is doing something at school and needs a Pringles can. Lucky for me, the Pringles were on special 2 for 2 dollars. And not only were they Pringles--some of them were EXTREME Pringles. My particular favorite was the Dill pickle flavored. I almost wanted to buy them. I have seen Lays in this flavor and have pondered why they thought this was an appropriate flavor for chips. I believe I will suggest wasabi for the next flavor.

Just got back from an a-typical visit to Wal-Mart. We had parked Da Chimpz at their grandparents (what better way to mark their 51st anniversary) intending to get a few things at the nearby shopping mecca... Who knew there were so many additional things we needed?

As we rolled out with a full cart, it did dawn upon me: we didn't see any bizarre people.

Which made it so not the typical visit to Wal-Mart. But then we stopped at the nearby chicken-wing place, having said we'd bring back food for everyone. As we waited for our carry out order, I spotted a kooky looking guy sitting at a table alone, staring into the air in front of him. I motioned to Alane to stop watching the sporting events on the big screen over our heads. "See that guy," I said. "He wants you to sit down and have a conversation with him."

Of course, my statement was utterly wrong -- he didn't need Alane or anyone else to sit down and converse -- he was doing a fine job having a very lively and earnest conversation all by his lonesome.

We got the food, got in the car, and drove down Pearl Rd to a red light. On our side of the road was one of the old-time, creepy, Norman-Bates-type motels that somehow still survive in this area. Across the empty parking lot a woman in jeans and heels was staggering toward the motel building. She wasn't making much progress. "Look at this," I urged Alane. It was still early in the evening, I thought -- she'd gotten her load on in a hurry. We watched her zig and zag until our light turned green and we proceeded.

"Maybe she's looking for the guy in the wings place?" I theorized, thinking maybe the two pieces of weirdness was really a single phenomenon. But as we got closer to the in-laws we passed a parking lot and saw Grizzly Adams busily dumping his refuse into the recycling bins. That confirmed that all the wack-jobs in the area just haven't done their Wal-Mart shopping -- and probably won't get around to it until midnight or after. We just got there too early.

Mojo is not misbehaved, he's just misunderstood. I think he should be universally praised...it takes intelligence, confidence and ambition to redesign the numeric system himself....plus I don't believe a word that librarian says ....most librarians are evil incarnate. You know the smell of a library makes Merle have to make a brunz. Not sure if that little nugget of info will ever help you in any way, it just seemed important for me to mention.
Well, its been a pretty exciting week out in Spumoni, as you know we moved Joey and Jess into a bigger pad to fit their upcoming arrival....that we have confirmed has a winky. We are thrilled and excited to add one more....plus the Pecorino Crime Family could use some new soldiers. Joey said " ...it will be a masculine child" and it reminded me of a time, this real Macho Banana-Head boasted to me in regards to him having four sons, "Let me tell you something Steve, it takes a man...to make a man!" He said this as I watched his son repeatedly smash his head against the kitchen floor until it was bruised, to which Mr. Macho then added "Thats why we call him Frankie Bad-head".
HOwever, Moving Day with BazzukaJoe and Jess was awesome, I would estimate it was about 700 Degrees Fahrenheit and and monsooning most of the day...so if anyone ever needs help moving into an Amazonian rain forest just call up me, BazzukaJoe and Ree....because as Uncle Lenny once said while hip-shaking with a belly-dancer "I have esperienza!". As expected it was both fun and informative, for example Pat showed us how to sandwich wrap a sofa, so next time we need to save a 400 lb. sausage and pepper hero for lunch, we know the procedure. Moving into the new place reminded me of the boardgame "Operation"...we were so paranoid about touching the walls, that everytime we moved a piece of furniture it looked like we were trying to remove the funny bone....without lighting up the landlord's nose. Also, you know how humans are 90% water?....well Joey's apartment is 90% cologne. Finally, Joey and Jess have a painting of their wedding portrait that I feel should be in the Louvre...maybe by the Picassos.
Anyway, I got more to talk about...but right now its time for me to have some cawf'.

Indians fans are overjoyed -- jubilant at the steely nerve of their young players. And they're thankful -- thankful to have a Congressman who can invoke his Elf powers to bring down a swarm of insects to confound the skills of the Yankee veterans.

What a game. I watched a lot of it. Between reading the paper and doing half a crossword puzzle (this week's is tough; last week's was easy).

Another Mastandrea Boy! This will be so much fun. I pity poor Ellexa and sure do hope she is feeling better. There is nothing so scary as a sick little kid.

Just to let you know what you have in store...Wednesday, my phone rings at work. I have caller ID so immediately can see that it is the boys school. My first thought is O shit, followed by did Cookie smack his skull on the asphalt already this year?

But no, it was Mojo's teacher. Sounding very concerned. She didn't seem angry just worried about him. After she told me what he had pulled off--I was worried to--that he would live.

This is what the teacher told me--Mojo is having a very bad day and I just wanted to warn you before you went and got him at aftercare. So I was like really...What happened? Apparently he was doing some work in class and wrote his 5 backwards. The teacher corrected him and he was like--no this is right, This is the way my mom told me to write them. The teacher said that was well and good--but he would need to write them like the rest of the known universe if he wanted to get them right in class. Then a little while later he said, "and you know what, my mom never lets me have candy." Then it was, "My mom woke me up in the middle of the night."

So I was like, well ok...and she was like no, that's not it. He also refused to get his picture taken and I had to lead him to the stool by his hand. (It was picture day). So she warned me that we might need a reshoot because he was crying so much and was in evil form when they shot the photo.

So I said, Ok I will sit down and talk about it with him and she was like no there's more...He also refused to take his math test. (I would have never thought to have refused to take a test in school). That was the one that put me over the top. John went and got him from extended care and we both spoke to him about how inappropriate his behavior was.

So what do you think happened the next day? That's right I get a note saying he refused to listen to the librarian. Luckily the librarian does aftercare so I got to talk to her and make Mojo apologize. That kid is a reprobate.

There's something very scary about Mastandrea boys. Scary in a very cool sort of way. That's great news, Joey... Now I know what to get Jessica for Christmas: a crash helmet. Cookie and Mojo will be just the right age to hand down all their time-tested techniques for mischief. That boy will be well-schooled!

Glutinous rice? How big was the sack? How much do you cook at once?
Where does one get such a sack?
The last few days have been rough. Ellexa has been very sick.
it was dejavu of the roto-virus tour so long ago. But today we
found out that our child will be unleashed on the world March 4th
and it will a masculine child. A boy.....I saw the twinkie and sack today
and i will state this now.
Mastandrea Balls.
if your not familiar ask someone that knows the terminology.

I've cooked some scary stuff over the years, but I don't think I've ever triggered an urban evacuation.

And peaking of Thai food, my sack of glutinous rice arrived today. Soon, there will be coconut sticky rice for all.

Halloween is coming up fast (so is Christmas, if the Wal-Mart and K-Mart displays are to be believed). This memory of horror-gone-by comes from 2004, when Da Chimpz were given several costumes by their Grandpa Vito. This clip needs to be viewed alongside the classic clip Blode and the Giant Bee.

In today's mail: a postcard flyer from Fifth Third Bank. It says "Tell us your life story, and you can change your future."

My reply: read the blog to get our life story. Then go scratch your ass.

I also heard from Little Vito this morning. He told me that for breakfast he had eggplant parmesan and french vanilla coffee. I did not ask if he had put them into his Vita-Mix first.

I read the bicycle paragraph too quickly, and where it said Vito is "building up his endurance," for a moment I thought it said he is "bidding up his insurance."

Which may also be true.

Happy Birthday, Alane! The card is on the way, perhaps even there today. We are thinking of you here in Groveland and hope that you have a wonderful year ahead of you. Best wishes to you all.


In another completely different direction, Vito is enjoying his bicycle and learning to shift gears. He has made it to the end of the block and back up our little hill three times now. He is building his endurance. I am thinking we should get him spandex bicycle shorts?


And in yet another mental direction, Halloween is on it's way even though the palm trees don't show fall colors. We will be lighting up the house this weekend. Bet we are the only ones in the whole neighborhood that glow with black lights. . .

Around here, you don't get a normal cake for your birthday. And if you do, it's not likely to have your real name inscribed on it. Alane is lucky the cake wasn't addressed to "Mortimer" since that name is still kicking around my head.

Before last night's cake, we ate spaghetti.

And before the spaghetti, we went to the birthday party of one of Cookie's school pals -- at the laser tag place. Mojo was invited too. The two of them were talking about it all week, counting the days and hours. Cookie was up at 5 a.m. yesterday, waking up Alane to remind her that the party at Lazer Xtreme would be starting soon.

Yeah, soon.

Maybe for Cookie and Mojo's birthday party in April we can have live entertainment. Steve can come up and do some karaoke. Can you sing "We Like to Party" by the Vengaboys?