Happy Birthday
First off, to my blog, which turns two today. Thanks to #1 for prodding me to get off my rear and onto blogspot
And of course, to Mrs. TCG, who turned 13 yesterday. We were invited to a fine fest at their domicile, a catered event that all thoroughly enjoyed. We partook of hors d’ouevres and beverages on the patio. The Ciroc was flowing freely and #1 and I took advantage of the situation, with #2 joining in as well. I was a tad chilly even in my jacket, but the numbers are manly men who pooh-poohed my plaint in their shirtsleeves.
For the evening, the garage was converted into a plush dining room to seat the overflow crowd. This was done ostensibly for space but my thought was that it was an appropriate place for a feeding trough for the village, especially the male members. The table of honor, with the birthday gal, family, and oldest friends, was right next to the garage door. I was feeling impish and considered going out to TCG’s car and hitting the door opener. However, I realized that might result in me getting my ass kicked and thought the better of it.
At this point, I’d like to introduce a new entrant into the pantheon of DJ’s Detritus. I’ve struggled to find an appropriate name for this individual, who has been skulking on the fringes of the village for what seems an eternity. He was TCG’s best man and I met him during their courtship. He praised my comedy routine at their wedding and says he likes my blog. Therefore, I like him. I considered and rejected several names. #7. No. #8. No. I’ve settled on IE. No, that does not stand for id est but for import/export, which is his business. And let me tell you, this guy is all business. We’ve had several chats in the past about our mutual Italian heritage. Last night we talked about all the crazy shit we did when we were young. I’d elaborate but I’m under a non-disclosure agreement.
Dancing broke out about 11pm or so. The boys lounged on the couches while the ladies shook what they got. I was chatting with The Banker for a bit. I’m sure I repeated many stories I’ve already bored him with several times about our old upstate NY haunts. The Banker is a good guy and indulges me nonetheless. The Belgian was also there for what seemed like 15 minutes. I thought he was taking the village snub to the next level by bailing out early. His wife informed us that he had just flown in from India. I’ve never done it but I hear it puts a serious dent in your internal clock. The subject of India brought up a discussion about city name changes there. We all agreed that Bombay is now Mumbai but what was Madras? #1 said Chennai but The Belgian’s wife disagreed. #1 settled it quickly with his crakcberry. He was right. I learned something new. I have put several circuits into Chennai but never knew it was formerly Madras. Thinking of them almost brought a tear to my eye. When I started at my company, we merely had an E-1 there, which is 2 megabits. I’ve seen that grow to a sturdy OC12 (622Mb). It’s almost like watching your kids grow up.
And of course, to Mrs. TCG, who turned 13 yesterday. We were invited to a fine fest at their domicile, a catered event that all thoroughly enjoyed. We partook of hors d’ouevres and beverages on the patio. The Ciroc was flowing freely and #1 and I took advantage of the situation, with #2 joining in as well. I was a tad chilly even in my jacket, but the numbers are manly men who pooh-poohed my plaint in their shirtsleeves.
For the evening, the garage was converted into a plush dining room to seat the overflow crowd. This was done ostensibly for space but my thought was that it was an appropriate place for a feeding trough for the village, especially the male members. The table of honor, with the birthday gal, family, and oldest friends, was right next to the garage door. I was feeling impish and considered going out to TCG’s car and hitting the door opener. However, I realized that might result in me getting my ass kicked and thought the better of it.
At this point, I’d like to introduce a new entrant into the pantheon of DJ’s Detritus. I’ve struggled to find an appropriate name for this individual, who has been skulking on the fringes of the village for what seems an eternity. He was TCG’s best man and I met him during their courtship. He praised my comedy routine at their wedding and says he likes my blog. Therefore, I like him. I considered and rejected several names. #7. No. #8. No. I’ve settled on IE. No, that does not stand for id est but for import/export, which is his business. And let me tell you, this guy is all business. We’ve had several chats in the past about our mutual Italian heritage. Last night we talked about all the crazy shit we did when we were young. I’d elaborate but I’m under a non-disclosure agreement.
Dancing broke out about 11pm or so. The boys lounged on the couches while the ladies shook what they got. I was chatting with The Banker for a bit. I’m sure I repeated many stories I’ve already bored him with several times about our old upstate NY haunts. The Banker is a good guy and indulges me nonetheless. The Belgian was also there for what seemed like 15 minutes. I thought he was taking the village snub to the next level by bailing out early. His wife informed us that he had just flown in from India. I’ve never done it but I hear it puts a serious dent in your internal clock. The subject of India brought up a discussion about city name changes there. We all agreed that Bombay is now Mumbai but what was Madras? #1 said Chennai but The Belgian’s wife disagreed. #1 settled it quickly with his crakcberry. He was right. I learned something new. I have put several circuits into Chennai but never knew it was formerly Madras. Thinking of them almost brought a tear to my eye. When I started at my company, we merely had an E-1 there, which is 2 megabits. I’ve seen that grow to a sturdy OC12 (622Mb). It’s almost like watching your kids grow up.
posted by DJ @ 6:00 PM
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