An article in today's WSJ made me laugh. The company that issues Discover Card plastic now has to refund a boatload of money for bullshit services it sold to cardholders. Yeah, I remember Discover. It was my first credit card -- got it in 1987 while I was still in college (which already tells you a lot about the company). Canceled it a few years ago.

I loved the quote from the head of Discover today. Explaining the $200 million ding to cash-flow, he simply said: “We have worked hard to earn the loyalty of our cardmembers, and we are committed to marketing our products responsibly."

It's like he had his secretary run down to the basement to fetch him one of the scripts their telemarketers use!

Not as humorous is how government bureaucrats will get to bathe themselves in some of what Discover will now disgorge. They are blood-suckers just as much as Discover. What should have happened to Discover is this: they offer bullshit services to the customers and their customers respond by saying... go to hell.

It's not hard. I did it.

Now, I actually saw Alane processing our backlog of laundry this weekend so I knew there was no reason for me to be out of mutandes this morning. But there I was, ready to shave and shower, staring into the strangely empty dresser drawer.

"Say, er, what's the chance you gave Cookie all my underwear when you sorted laundry?"

Yep, the boys are growing. Maybe I should move back up to XL just to keep distinctions keen for another few years. Or choose patterns no one could mistake for their own.

Cue up some of that New York Citizens ska: play me some Boxer Shorts!

What I really wanted to post, but couldn't find on Youtube, was a clip from the movie Fatso where Dom takes Lydia to the feast. You don't get to actually smell the feast but in a way you do.

"Get the honey, junior."

I too enjoy the scent of Mulberry Street during a feast. Of course, to get to those events one had to pass the the fish buckets and rotten vegetables being hawked on Mott Street -- something I remember as a kid being dragged along through crowds. The stink. And when we got there we never seemed to partake in any of the mobbed-up games of chance. Instead we'd go upstairs and listen to the festivities from above Hester Street. As a kid you wanted to be down in the middle of it. Then they'd say, "C'mon, let's go say hello to Aunt Anna." To get to her apartment in the building around the block we'd take the stairs up, to the roof, cross the urban rooftops like a young Vito Corleone fleeing the Don Fanucci assassination, then walk down another tenement stairwell to her place. In other words, still going nowhere near the zepolle, the cotton candy, the little wax-paper packets of dried garbanzo they sold off carts that for some reason I liked.

Anyway, today's stink is neither eel-bucket nor sausage-and-pepper. Being Sunday, today's enchanting scent is meatball. Got a big cauldron bubbling on the stove as we await the return of Mojo Jojo who spent the weekend traveling with his friend's family. Cookie is downstairs playing Halo.

Is it too early to open the wine?

I got a a text from Ree yesterday informing me next week she would be flying into NY for a few days, and that one night she would be attending the San Gennaro Feast.  It made me reflect upon the the San Gennaro and St. Anthony's Feasts (the latter of which thanks to the DePalos I had the amazing opportunity to participate in back in the 80s) and automatically I remember the amazing aroma. Its a combination of zeppoles, sausage and peppers, pizza and pastries. I wish my house smelled like that...no actually I wish I smelled like that. I should really call Christian Dior and pitch the idea. A new cologne called "FEAST" for men.  I think men would love wearing it and women would really respond to it. In the commercial the man walks by and the model actress whispers to her friend "Id like to smother him in sauce and mozzarella."

This of course, reminds me of BazzukaJoe offering Johnny Cat edible body powder to which he responded "Tonight I'm gonna bread Alane like a veal cutlet". Maybe one of the top ten greatest quotes of all time...up there with Yogi Berra and Vito Mastandrea.

I'm trying to ignore the news on the TV...apparently the Carter years were so great, this country has decided to relive them. I'm glad I missed them the first time...

By the way, loved the commercials. No Fruity Island Cereal ads?

Back when Alane and I used to watch TV with a bit more regularity (wha, about 20 years ago?) this was one of our favorite commercials:

It's right up there with "but Dad, it's Smokey!" on the list of Lines We Repeat Needlessly, even in situations that barely relate. Kind-a like Steve, who has been know to utter "hey, watch where you point that thing" to no one in particular.

"It ain't gonna fit, Charlie." Cracks me up every time.

I also got Da Chimpz familiar with the line "Ba-gel for your Temp Tee?" Because that was another ad classic ... and something they've heard me mutter just about every time we pass the bagel bins at the Giant Beagle bakery.

And speaking of Brooklyn (no one recently spoke of Brooklyn) here's a video clip that never gathered the attention it deserved. I suppose I should have posted it to that surprisingly active Boro Park group over on Facebook. But Facebook is such a circus these days. Not even a very lively circus. It feels like a carnival teetering on bankruptcy. And whatever they did to "design" peoples pages? Total house of mirrors; I should change my icon to some Picasso-esque fragmented image of myself. Or someone else -- who'd know?

Anyway, here's some footage we found on the old film reels from up in Vito's closet. That's 38th Street, facing down toward Dahill, then across the playground to the el over 37th Street. And yes, that's an old Culver Shuttle train silently clattering along. (At least I'm pretty sure it had already been relegated to a "shuttle" by the early 1960s.)

Gotta be some rail-fans out there jonesing for some rare footage of this bygone Brooklyn classic. Now if I only had video of those old guys who stood under the el playing bocce over by 14th Ave.

When one eats a Marlenka cake does one wash it down with Kvas?

Or is bread soda not the right pairing for such a dish?

Just asking!

Gluing labels on these wine bottles really puts me in the mood for a plate full of... candied bacon. Alane is at the Giant Beagle right now to get breakfast warez -- though I believe today will be a breakfast sausage day.

Oh, and the wine is pretty good. So I'll be sure to bust open a couple of bottle this week to indulge. I first tried attaching my labels with Mojo's glue-stick from school. That didn't work so well. This morning I got some industrial stuff out of the basement and wow, was that stinky. And not particularly effective on glass. I'm sure by the end of the day I'll be mixing up a batch of JB Weld... which makes absolutely no sense but neither does it make sense to make soap from bacon drippings. Why would that stop us?

After a heavy thunderstorm yesterday afternoon I was quite sure the dropped humidity would stay dropped -- no such luck. So as the evening wound down we all piled into my bedroom and turned on the window A/C. While everyone else read, I fired up some Netflixes -- watching a bit of that 80s classic Beverly Hills Cop. Yikes. That's some thin soup right there! Mojo joined in the watching as soon as he heard the soundtrack -- a cut he's somehow familiar with.

Anyway, when the hitmen show up early in the film, I get a look at one of them and it makes me think of Breaking Bad. Is that the guy who played Mike? Alane and I laugh because we just saw an even earlier version of that actor, featured in an early 70s film about menstruation. No shit, menstruation.

Anyway, I didn't watch the whole movie. But dang, did it get cold in that room overnight. Everybody else seems to like it that way but I think it sucks. My shivering kidneys furiously filled my bladder to capacity. I awoke to scary dreams -- that I was taking a hugely relieving leak at some doctor's office. Those dreams are scary because you wake up and realize you're still in bed and then you have to check yourself. All clear. Whew.

Well, I've been up and at 'em for an hour and a half now. Drank a percolator full of coffee that's got my kidneys pumping even harder so I better stop typing and tend to business.

You know what would have made Steve's TV show better? If someone in the rank and file had painted his face blue and made a speech appealing to first principles.

Hah hah -- that only happens at block parties!

Goog golly, is it humid this week. Just put the trash at the curb and I think I need a sweat towel. I was standing in my two-car garage just now, thinking: "how much of this stacked-up crap can I put out for collection today?" Two-car garage my ass -- I'm lucky I can get one car in there at any given time. Maybe if I start putting out these Omaha Steak coolers... And the rolls of carpet I tore up, what, a year ago... And these worn-out and tattered patio umbrellas.

Y'know what I need? One of those Cinzano marketplace umbrellas. I'd sit outside all year under one of those. Yeah, I need that.

I rewatched the video of the reenactment....some really funny stuff. I recognized quotes from He-man, Jack Nicholson...and did I hear a reference to Sparta?

Speaking of funny, there is a very disturbing comedy on my TV right now...its starring Nancy Pelosi and Debbie Wasserman-Schultz. I think the plot has something to do with buying votes and unions, it takes place in Charlotte, North Carolina.

Newly-Wedded Bliss...

Newly –wedded bliss? Hmmm Not so sure I can elaborate on this…but I will try…

Things I have learned in the past three months:

1)      A toothache can be shared between two people…(Both steve and I have pain on the same side at the same time)….

2)      Farts are always funny- In fact, they can break up the tension.

3)      “Yes Dear”- is always the best answer…I am finding this out myself….

4)      Do not ask those stupid questions…revert back to statement #3

5)      I only can have the remote from 9 pm until I fall asleep....Fox News is the staple….

6)      Rubbing the belly has become a powerful negotiating tool….(I am hungry)….

Steve has also developed a superb knack for blocking me out..Sadly, this impresses me and everyone is aware of this new found talent...

Wow, it looks  like you guys had so much fun. I miss block parties. I think back to the 40th Street extravaganzas of the 80s and early 90s, where permits were never necessary to close off a busy Brooklyn street...you just asked a firefighter living on your block to have his buddies park an engine at each end. Same firefighters opend up the hydrants for the kids to play. My favorite was the ten foot high DJ stand, which was powered by stealing electricity  from the lamposts. On average, "Party Your Body" by Stevie B and "Electric Avenue" by Eddy Grant might be heard every hour. Those parties were great.

 Marisa Circle had quite a few memorable ones as well...I think of Barry Kaufman carrying over a plate of Schmucklabernstein sausages to a patio table in front of our house that already had eggplant parmigiana, lasagna, hot and cold antipasta, roast beef and turkey...all that precedes the monstrous spread of items Big Vin barbecued. Around that table sat a collection of professional eaters: The Mastandreas, the Vadalas, the Buetis, the Caravellas...and Joe Shtrimps. Eat, drink, laugh and repeat. Of course, each block party always ended with my brother Joe being ambushed by the young Dads of the block and thrown into a pool. Once again, Florida just doesn't have that kind of close family atmosphere...I think my kids will unfortunately miss out. Luckily, we still have some video footage hiding somewhere (one video in particular ends with Dom Caravella getting depantsed and then spilling his beer into the camera) for them to enjoy.

By the way, I loved the reenactment, I think next year you should consider the baptism scene from The Godfather Part One. I believe Cookie would make a superb Clemenza,, and Mojo a fine Moe Greene.

Also, when I read "jerk" chicken, I think of Wesley Willis's magnum opus "Cut The Mullet", where he shouts out "Get out the hair clippers, Jerk!" .

Anyway, its good to be back on the blog. I'm off today, enjoying a little peace, a little relaxation, and thanks the The Dish, a lot of nostalgia.                              

Summer is dwindling -- weather forecast shows another two days in the 80s followed by a Saturday that won't get out of the 60s. Yikes.

Went to the dentist this morning to get a cavity filled. She numbed the upper right of my mouth leaving my upper lip to blubber about as I chit-chatted my way out of her office. I maintained those mumbles well into my late-morning conference call to the office -- bonus.

Tonight I'm going to call Steve and urge him to share bloggy tales of newly-web bliss. Better yet, I want Jenny to get on here and tell us what it's really like.

Later this week we bottle some wine we got started earlier this summer at our local kit-wine place. Cool idea: they let you come in and use their equipment to start a batch of wine, from concentrate, then let it sit in their climate-controlled rooms. Come back to decant the filtered veritas from the big glass jug into bottles we get to label and take home. Sweet. As you can see, I've been hard at work designing appropriate labels. Heh.

I know, I know, you're asking yourself how it can be period-appropriate to be wielding a baguette as a weapon at the Battle of Stirling Bridge. Just remember, the Norman Invasion had occurred over 200 years prior. The first Eurozone was already being tried!

Oh, and coconut shells were commonly found in the forests of the British Isles. They were thought to be carried there by migratory birds. Cinematic records support this theory.

So we were planning this year's block party and they asked me to come up with activities for the kids. The egg-toss and three-legged race were tempting options. I took the road less traveled and had the kids re-enact the battle scene from Braveheart.



I'm pretty sure they won't ask me again to plan activities, not for anyone, anywhere.

Great block party, though. I made a giant pan of jerk chicken. Drumsticks -- a portable meal. Others brought out a vast array of goodies. The neighborhood kids ruled the barricaded street until about 10 p.m. And the rain held off the whole time. Sweet.