This Is Steve's Brain on Ice; Any Questions?

As the latest Russian vaudeville video clip makes the rounds, I just want to point out that Steve was about 14 years ahead of the trends.

It was after the big party, Cookie's baptism (yes, the very same Cookie who started high school this week). We had eaten all the steaks, drunk all the wine, smeared all the cake... and still, we had this cooler that sloshed full with icy water. (And we mean icy -- Steve said he could hardly stick his hand into it to fish out a cold beverage.)

So naturally we decided to plunge our heads into it. One by one.

It made sense at the time.

Wow. Its been a long time.....so lets dive right into this. Quite a bit has changed since my last blog. First, a new zip code for Jen and I. Georgia called and said no one was cooking the sauce on Sunday for eight hours, so we decided it was our duty to immediatally relocate and help spread the gospel of the macaroni. Moving to another state was not quite expensive enough, so we decided it was  a perfect time to adopt a new puppy. Our new addition is named Maddie, and alas she is an English Bulldog. If you refer back to July of 2006, I believe I suggested that the Mastandreas may have evolved from the bulldog....noting the many shared attributes: oversize head, short neck, barrel chest, underbite and amazing appetite. Anyway, Maddie is the first member of a brand new breed...the Barese Bulldog. I've been pressuring Petco to offer a puppy chow made with sausage and broccoli rabe, no luck so far.

I spoke with Dr. Sfingi today and shared with him a conversation I recently had with Jenia and BazzukaJoe. We were discussing the World Cup final score and its impact on my musical choices (I was vacillating between Rammstein and "Dont Cry For Me Argentina") which prompted BazzukaJoe to tell us his reservations about a coworker who revealed to him his underwears sometimes smell like Fritos. You read that correctly..the mans underwear occasionally smells like Fritos. I used to like corn chips. Now I keep imagining reaching into a bag and pulling out a pair of sweaty tightie whities. BazzukaJoe was unfazed by it, simply stating the man's judgement may now be questionable. Anyway, Im starting to doze, so I'm going cut this short tonight, but I will be back tomorrow.

A Time Piece of a Timepiece

Not sure what made me decide to do this, but late this morning I brought my nearly-30-year-old cheap-ass wristwatch back to life -- loaded a new battery, set the time and date, and... turned back the clock.

Yep, I remember getting that watch, down on Broadway, trolling the shops in my then-current state of perpetual broke-ness, looking for a bargain. And there it was: black denim overalls. Just $15. And all purchases that day came with a free wristwatch.

My recollection is a little foggy (heh) but I'm pretty sure that was late summer 1985. I had just quit job number seven of the summer (but was keeping one of the ice cream vendor gigs -- would later sell gelato at a Squeeze concert on the pier, then roasted corn at San Gennaro). School was about to start, and with it would be other jobs: I'd later get a job at the campus publishing office, then late in the year make $200 doing a drug study.

Yeah, it was madness but that's why I always looked for a deal and this was a deal. I got lots of miles out of those overalls; in those days of lax-laundry and commando tactics I think it's fair to say that was one horribly abused piece of clothing -- but it always came back for more.

And the watch -- what a cheap piece of crap. I loved it. Wore it for years. I think at one point the electronic innards got roasted, so I transplanted a working LCD timepiece into it. Super-glued the case. Replaced the strap. The watch was a champ -- it outlived Canal Jean itself (not sure when that store closed -- I think it moved to Brooklyn for a few years before going fully defunct).

Anyway, it's all ancient history. Wristwatches, that is.

All The Who's Down In Whoville

Took down the last of the Christmas lights today -- always a somber duty. But at least we got to do it over the course of an unexpectedly long weekend, given the snows of Thursday night into Friday. So I got to sit back and slurp the last of the eggnog, sip what was left at the bottom of that Frangelico bottle, and eat the final holiday chocolates. Back in the old Brooklyn days, there would still be that box of strouffoli on the counter -- that sticky pyramid, half-eaten, half-wanted, but finally eaten away as the cookie plate ran empty and the moth of January got fully into gear.

Anyway, we took down the tree and living room decorations yesterday. Now the place is boring again. And the weather is getting cold -- we'll be spending some time in the single digits in the next few days. Blowjhinksi.

You know what I need? A nice refreshing cucumber soda.