Today we have been told that Pee Wee is a she. Its a GIRL... We got several pictures but this one came out the best. I have one with a cranium shot that is a classic mastandrea colossal head. It was very cool. We watched as she thrshed about and kicked her feet. I guess i will give in. Steve - Jenia - Darrell and i believe Pat were correct. I have also been informed that this a first for the mastandrea bloodline, a girl as first born. Well, she will have a large hat to fill.

LET THE GAMES BEGIN...

It wasn't the looming start of kindergarten that brought home how fast time is racing. It was Cookie's losing his first tooth yesterday.

Those things just grew in!

Okay, so that happened many million melon chunks ago. Still, this took me by surprise. I was up early this morning, reading the newspaper on the front step (like a mook) and Cookie woke up very excited to find a dollar where his tooth had been placed.

He came running out to show me. He told me it came from the tooth fairy.

I sighed, put aside my newspaper and lectured my boy on the importance of political correctness. They become haters so quickly these days. Where does the time go?

VH1 Classic just showed Morrissey's "Every Day Is Like Sunday" and of course I had to call John Paul to the television to explain the significance of the song.

"See, for Morrissey, every day is like Sunday. And you know what that means? Meatballs every day."

He sat on my lap, gazing up at me, asking in reply:

"And pasta too?"

Indeed. Then I muted the TV and we all turned our attention to the computer where we screened some other classic music videos: "Californication" by Red Hot Chili Peppers, "Feel Good" by Gorillaz, and "Punk Rock Girl" by Dead Milkmen -- which is a cool one to watch because John Paul can sing along with much of it.

Right now we're watching "Holiday in My Head" by Smash Mouth and the boys are dancing. If you can call it dancing.

Today Alane brought the chimps to my office. They had a grand old time. We ate lunch and then they played while I got some things done. Sneaked out of the office early to go with them to Sony World on the east-side (was lame-o), and then we headed for Grand Central. Along the way John Paul decided he was hungry -- which triggered Joseph to declare likewise. He spotted a food cart at the curb and stated his menu choice: today my boys ate their first dirty-water-hot-dogs.

And they finished the whole thing... As they walked down Madison Avenue... Just like a couple of mooks.

Been sneezing a lot this week and suspected that it was an out-of-season hay fever attack. But today it felt more like a cold. And by late afternoon, I was pretty sure of that.

But I had planned a night out with some old friends, so to not appear even more lame than they already know I am, I sucked it up and joined them for a trip to a West-side Mexican restaurant (right across from Fordham Law -- as I gazed out the window I couldn't help but think about the gobs of money Alane and I left there over the years).

Anyway, we drank a lot of tequila. A lot of tequila. And we ate well. Got on the train and listened to the panic-fed phone calls of a woman across from me who'd apparently had even more tequila than me -- she needed someone to come get her at the station, she whined into the phone, because "I'm so fucked up right now... I am like, so fucked up." She was laid out across the three-seater, and between phone calls she asked me to please not let her miss the Tuckahoe stop. Then she repeated her entreaty.

It was quite a performance. And though she never did appear to lose consciousness, she was sufficiently involved in another "so fucked up" conversation to not notice we were pulling into Tuckahoe. So as I got up to leave I slapped her on the leg with my book and called out in a large voice, "Let's go, party girl" -- which was probably the first time in my life I ever used those words in that exact order.

And now that I'm home, sweating out the tequila, I don't feel that cold anymore. Somehow, I feel I have accomplished something tonight.

This arrived with no explanation. I'm not sure there could be a sufficient explanation.

Because this is just wrong... No matter how it started.

Last night we connected to Ohio via webcam -- yes, we beamed choppy live video of fidgety boys horsing around in their skivvies as they sought to avoid looming bedtime.

Talk about reality TV!

Saw BazzukaJoe on IM today and he mentioned that he's been away from his computer with his cellphone off lately... Can people still do that in 2005?

The leper ribs were quite tasty. I liked them. Though I do think our slow cooker runs hot. Just like our grill out back -- the lowest temperature setting has four digits.

As for Limbaugh, he's no worse than Chris Matthews, Keith Olbermann, and all the other cranks who... I can't really listen to anymore. Too grating. Predictable. Repetitive.

I don't see any future for issue-driven campaigning -- unless the issue is free beer and a two-day work-week. That'll get people beyond party affiliation. Until then, I know who I'm pulling for in the next Ohio elections.

Today as it is about a 100 degrees, I decided to cook ribs. I had planned on doing this on the grill until John explained that this would not work due to the fact our grill is like a blast furnace. John suggested that using the slow cooker would be the least heat causing cooking method. I agreed.

Now due to my love of pot roast, I should be a master of the sl0w cooker. However, this thing confounds me. Nothing I make every comes out right. These ribs are to be no exception. They are by far the creepiest ribs I have ever seen. Indeed, although not a fan of food photography, I may have to do so to document the sheer creepiness of them.

These things are black-not that beautiful reddish color I've grown to associate with bbq ribs. At first I was gonna describe them as LaBrea tar pittish but they are weirder then that. It finally hit me what they were like--imagine your skin contracted leprosy and chunks fell off and laid around for say three months. This about hits it. At this point, I'm not even certain I can dine on them without thinking of the Donner Party. I did macaroni salad that did taste pretty good so all may not be lost.

While laboring over the creepy ribs (which I seem to have to watch an awful lot considering you are suppose to be able to put a slow cooker on and come home to a meal), I was listening to Rush Limbaugh. Let me just put on the record that I really dislike that man. I listen to the other shows on the station and was to lazy to shut him off. Anyway he was discussing the election in Ohio to replace the guy President Bush chose as US trade representative. Rush played the commercial for the democrat who apparently served in Iraq and doesnt identify himself in the commercial as a democrat. Rush said that this was to hide the fact he was democrat. That may very well be true but it ocurred to me, that I would really like people to come on to a commercial and give their stand on positions and not tell me their party affliation. It would be interesting to see how voting went if people really did vote on the issues and not on the party name attached.

Well time to make sure the creepy ribs havent formed into some kind zombie cow in the kitchen...

It is quite late and right now is a rare moment in Spumoni Gardens South ... it is silent. The problem is, just when you think you have reached your complete moment of peace, the front door alarm system goes off by itself ... the one point in my life where I will quote Michael Constantine in My Big Fat Greek Wedding ..."Do you want to kill me?"

Anyway, I am sure you all know that I am not blogging to report of quiet nights ...but of joyous occasions. Joe Nebraska has taken the pilgrimage to the Southern Division of the Mastandrea Tribal Counsel.
This lovely reunion consisted of dinner at Nick's Tomatoe Pie, outrageous car rides (at least for Steve and I) and a nice journey to Ghiradelli's in City Place, which happens to be on ... Okeechobee Blvd. I'm so glad you got to come to Florida and witness such amazing goings on such as the Space Shuttle Discovery launch, take a walk through Restoration Hardware, eat good food, drink good milk shakes, and see the famous Florida sunset.
Remember that you are welcome back here again anytime ...

Oh I hope you all enjoy my Soup Mix picture ...Thank you John for adding to your collection, I am quite honored to be part of the Mastandrea Heads. I would just like to let you all know that that picture was taken on location at Winn- Dixie by my favorite photographor Esteban Legsa Verihairi.
Which reminds me ... whatever happened to those pictures of when you guys put your heads in the ice chest?

Didn't L.A. Style do a dance-track around the words "King Fahd Is Dead" back in the 90s? I've had that song beating through my brain since reading the headlines this morning.

Elsewhere, I'm happy to see that Robin is still having fun with that domain name. That man is a virtuoso of mischief. And when the law comes a-calling seeking to depose me, I don't know the guy.