Say It Ain’t So, Sting

I was reading the entertainment news on my work pager yesterday. It told me that Blender magazine had declared Sting the worst rock lyricist, citing "mountainous pomposity" and "cloying spirituality". Ouch! I hope they don't read my blog. It looks like Stinga Dinga is not getting props in his old age. The Exec's wife hates it when I call him that. I think I came up with the handle during one of our communal vacations, spending quality time in a Tuscan villa. Since Sting also has a Tuscan villa, we were on the lookout for him, regardless of the fact that Tuscany is bigger than New Jersey. A week in Tuscany is typical for my posse. We have more money than brains. We ought to be socking it away for a rainy day. I'm planning on taking a leave of absence in 2009 and take the family on a two month world tour, courtesy of my 401k. Who the hell needs a retirement fund anyway?

That Italian vacation also featured #1 and family. The adults all had a dinner one night in Florence. On the way home, my wife and Mrs. Exec were up front, ignoring us completely. The Exec and I, half in the bag, entertained ourselves by making fun of the names of towns as we passed. There were three in particular that got us going; Badesse, Bottai, and Bargino. There were many variations on the theme of “Don’t barge in here in a bowtie, badass”. It was funny at the time.