Am I Pleased to See You or Did I Just Put a Canoe in My Pocket?

"WOOF!"

First let me get this out of the way, "I was right"! I just knew it was going to be a boy. Perhaps it was the agita (a sure sign there is another man in your life!)? Perhaps it was the early arrival of the pot belly? Perhaps I am a witch who can see the future? Most likely it was the luck of the draw and for once I was on the winning side of a 50/50 wager. I have been rather lucky since receiving my Wee Little Garden Gnome (yes Stef, he is sitting on the fake grass right next to the one you sent years ago).

In honor of Baby D (aka Larry Larry), I thought I should host a "Flash By Name, Flash By Nature - Name the Baby D Contest" because I just think the kid is going to be pretty Flash*. I haven't decided what the prize might be - Perhaps I can interest someone in some Indians tickets? How about a LeBron James Cavs jersey? - but we'll cross that bridge when someone really impresses me. To get you started, I thought I'd provide you with some little known facts about the Baby D:

• Baby D's father, maternal and paternal grandfather, and paternal great grandfather are/were all Larrys so he hails from a long line of Larrys.
  
• Baby D's mama was born and raised in West Unity, Ohio, a town with a stop light. This means you can reach into the Palin lexicon to come up with some really creative names based on geographic locales. So go forth and utilize the "Google Maps" for delightful locations in Northwestern Ohio and please, don't forget your favorite fair food!
  
• No one in Baby D's family has yet employed a bar sinister (that's for you Anglophiles out there) so don't forget the "Thompson"!
  
• Baby D's father spent his youth listening to Rush, AC/DC, KISS, and Judas Priest. He was one of the many few who "didn't see that coming". Feel free to pillage lyrics, song titles, and band member names.

• Baby D's maternal grandmother has an irrational fear of Biblical names so don't be afraid to pick up the good book and peruse its contents for spiritual guidance.
  
• On the other end of the spectrum, Baby D is due the first week of December so that makes him a Sagittarius. According to the "stars", Baby D will be ruled by Jupiter and the Ninth House, his favorable color will be Purple (so go for the Prince), his key body part will be his hips and thighs (perhaps Elvis), and his lucky gem is Topaz (Alfred is going old school but also the name of Baby D's daddy's favorite stuffed dog).
  

In conclusion, I just want to offer a hearty congratulations to Larry and Chris and also to remind them that parenting is a serious business. You need to be cruel to be kind, to know when to give them an inch and when to yank on the leash (literally), and finally, when to say yes to the fauxhawk but perhaps no to the tattooed eyebrows and horns.

Is it just me or does this guy look a little like George?

*If you don't know your Flash, for shame! Watch this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DYNlcLx91PA

And Here in the Bar the Piano Man's Found....

Okay, I had this really great title for this post but I've forgotten it so I've made a "note to self" to start taking notes! Perhaps as I write this it shall come back to me but I really honestly doubt it. My apologies as it was brilliant.

The night starts as each HOB night starts, at Flannery's only tonight Flannery's smells like a frat house (sour beer) and there are gnats everywhere. There are only two empty stools at the bar and those are next to a couple of other empty tools. They are playing some really bad music. One of those stations where every band sounds like Creed or Staind or one of those bands in that genre. I can't tell them apart. At some point the obligatory "If you could only see the way she loves me..." song comes on. As soon as I hear the song start I make the "this might be the worst song in the world" comment and then it happens, Stacey asks if there is a band playing. I look at her, perplexed. It turns out the tool on the stool next to her is singing along to the song, Bud Light can in hand. Well, there's nothing for it but to order the Irish Nachos and move on. As if to somehow apologize to us, they add a side of BBQ sauce. It works. That is the missing piece to the puzzle.

At about 7:30 or so we figure there should be no line at the door and we head over to HOB. We were wrong. There is a line and we have to stand there and find some way to amuse ourselves. To our right, we had images from the "Bodies" exhibit. This is creepy but also amusing because everyone looks Chinese so we begin speaking in our bad Chinese accents. Yes, "we been here for hours" a la Louie Anderson. After that loses it appeal, we start scanning the crowd. Meet Cheap Trick I. Sadly, her friend had back fat poking out of her tube-ish kind of top but I did not get her photo. I determined that she was "at her heavy weight" (copywrite My Mother - she actually made this comment about me earlier in the day - I guess she has relaxed). Actually, now that I think about it, most folks in the crowd are now at their "heavy weight". As we get closer to the door, we feast our eyes on this vision in blue. Cheap Trick II is a very cheap trick indeed. I've always thought that if you have cankles, you don't want to wear shoes that accentuate your (c)ankles. Boy, as I wrong! Short little piggy legs really do look good in lace up cream wedge sandals, especially when paired with an empire waist dress. It's kind of like Jane Austen meets Prospect Avenue (for the non-Clevelanders, that's where the hos are).

We are wrist banded, scanned, and stamped. We use the Ladies Room where I lose my balance and some people think I am drunk. I am not but if I amused them, then I am happy. We get a couple of drinks and find a place to stand to the right of the stage. We have determined that this is mostly a Cheap Trick crowd and not just because the first people we saw were an entire family in black and white Cheap Trick t-shirts. They announce the line up and apparently, CT is on first. This is good news because the floor will clear out but bad news that we have to listen to the entire CT set.

The CT set. Stacey and I are the only two people within eye and ear shot that are completely and utterly bored. Not smitten. "Lips Like Sugar" indifference. "Love Song" indifference. That said, even Stacey can't meet my level of indifference. She dances a bit during "I Want You to Want Me", "Dream Police", and some other song that was a hit that I can't remember. I mostly pee a lot and get us another drink. That is once I have had a chance to drink in their visage. Sadly, we are not close enough for you to get a great view but I can say that they really haven't aged all that well. At certain points the blond guy holds his bad back which really kind of blows the whole rock n' roll image if you know what I mean. I then get so bored I fixate on horrible mental images (does this guy have white pubes and other things I know feel uncomfortable sharing) and what does this dude look like naked. (Please note the "little doggie steps", you know the ones they make for little dogs to jump on your bed, on the black and white platform at the edge of the stage. Apparently these guys can't jump anymore. Oh, wait! Speaking of jumping, the guitarist only gets about two feet off the ground on his split leg jumps.) There is a lot of gratuitous guitar changing, throwing of picks, and creepy smiling at the crowd. At this point you may be asking yourself, "what does a Cheap Trick groupie look like?" Well, there are three "groupie" type chicks at the front of the stage who all have very bleached blond hair and the same hair cut (i.e. David Bowie in Labrynth), bobbing their heads in unison with left or right arm raised in a rock n' roll salute. In fact, it's all very rock n' roll. I always considered CT to be a bit power pop but they're not. It was kind of like a bit of power pop which then morphed into Rush from the Snakes and Arrows tour but without the hope that they will play Working Man or Fly By Night. I will be listening to the Vapors today.

As CT leaves the stage. the floor swap begins. Stacey and I wade the massive exiting crowd - in fact, I haven't seen such a crowd swap this massive since Bauhaus' Coachella appearance although I don't remember who was on before them - maybe Weezer - and make it to the floor. It's relatively pleasant until these two porky lesbians show up. Think purple windbreaker girl if there were two of her, they were fat, and they were hanging all over each other talking very loudly. Very quickly, they annoy everyone in their general vicinity, especially Stacey. When she asks them to keep to their own personal smelly space (it's hotter than hell down there), one comments that "this is the floor so what does she expect". Well, when there is space, you expect people to stay in it. This is not like expecting personal space on the floor for Social Distortion, which I have seen dudes try to make for their bitches. On to Squeeze.
They are so British, so cute, and they have aged well. Chris Difford (left) is adorable with his glasses and his music stand with lyrics and Glenn is snappy in his orange suit and white, white shoes. The guy on keyboards is great despite not being Jools Holland (who is?). The Lesbots have now moved ahead of us and begin to writhe to Black Coffee in Bed. Thankfully, after they offer me some Nicorette, they clear. The set is marred by a couple of things: a new album and the omission of one of my favorite songs. Nonetheless, Stacey and I soldier on and dance our asses off. As usual, I am sweating from the head like nobody's business. No one around us does more than sway occasionally. They play a new song which sounds like something any band at any Holiday Inn bar would play (I am bitter about this as you will see below), Goodbye Girl (it's awesome), Slap N' Tickle, that crappy Temptation song (I really don't care so much after Jools left), Cool For Cats (we did sing it loud and proud for Dean), Up the Junction, and on and on. I assume we will get Pulling Mussels From a Shell and Another Nail from My Heart for the encores. Well, we got the Mussels but not the Nail. I leave, drenched and slightly heartbroken but with the knowledge that I will always have the Rib Burn Off!

We decide that we must do our bit to keep them in the style they deserve and buy over priced t-shirts. Stacey gets the one with the Squeeze logo (see above) and I get a bright mustard yellow number with red ketchup letters that says "I Quite Like Squeeze". Yeah, baby.

Time to go home. It's hot, the top is down, and we are blasting "Another Nail From My Heart" on the stereo. As we stop at Superior and East 9th, there is a firetruck. As one we shout, "Hey Firemen!" and then realize the top is down and that was our loud outside voice. We laugh and then as we turn the corner, we get two honks from the Firetruck! Take that Cheap Trick hos!

Marley & Me

So there it is. Herr Doctor removed the Steri-Strips yesterday and for the first time, I cried "Ouch!" Not once during the four radioactive injections in my face, the needles in my arms and hands, the 100 stitches or their removal but only when the good doctor pulled those little strips from my neck and face. Hey, it hurts when those little hairs are pulled out of your head!

Okay, it's kind of ugly but you can't see it head on and it's only been sixteen days since the surgery. I am told that the lumps and bumps are normal and I believe they should subside as everything heals. But I am jumping ahead! I had a female resident who came in and checked things out in general and talked to me about how I was doing. I decided not to mention the whole Ferengi thing as she didn't look like she liked the Sci-Fi. So, I told her fine and that I really wanted these damned strips off and to work out again. She promised Herr Doctor would take them off and that he'd probably give me the okay on the exercise. She then left and I sat bored out of my mind for about 10 minutes.

When Herr Doctor came in, he had the same resident plus another. The first thing out of his mouth was "Oh, what happened there?" I explained the body check and that Doctor Woodhouse (yes, I will always go to him even if he spells his name wrong) didn't like the one on the side of my nose. He said it was odd but not in a bad melanoma kind of way. He kind of just smiled and shook his head. When it rains it pours. I gave him the Godiva chocolate from my mother and said, Now you have to share"! He then starts pulling off this strips (insert ouches) and says, "You don't mind if I talk about you..." "Like I am not here" says I. "No, knock your socks off" I tells him. He then describes how the skin on my cheek used to be all the way over there as I think "and it feels like it wants to go back". He tells them that it was odd that I had this on my cheek so young and then refers to the man they had just seen who had one in the same spot (this would be the guy who had surgery two days before me) but he was twice my age. I then shout, "He was 100?" Herr Doctor says, "Wait, how old are you" and we all laugh. The man was like 92 so they gave me a few years. Ta.

He then gives me the drill. Lumps and bumps. I can buy expensive creams for the scar but he suggests using Vitamin E capsules (which I have just done) and tells me to always wear sunscreen there to protect from scarring. I can work out (I did forty five minutes on the treadmill this morning) and I don't have to come back for two months. He still wants to see me regularly even though I am in a very low risk group (in fact, it is 97 out of 100 people in my group will never have further issues).

So now it's Marley & Me. Had he had that toe checked out sooner, he'd still be smiling, smoking, and fathering children. Scars suck but it's a lot better than the alternative! Ride natty, ride!