23 Skidoo

The bomb cyclone, aka heavy rainstorm, is here.  Some of my East Coast friends were concerned if I was prepared but I let them know that the sump pump is fully functional and that the gutters are clear, so I should be OK.  What I failed to tell them was that rainy days and Mondays always get me down.

We had the boys call last night after skipping a few for the holidays.  I let them know that I was a bit bored with my own blog writing and that I had one in the can, but it was the same old stuff.  That doesn’t mean I’m not going to use it, just that I know it stinks. The Hotelier chimed in that I’m finally coming to the same conclusion as the rest of the guys.  He’ll see no more invites to the mansion on Gull.  The Belgian joined us as well.  He came to us in a supine position, so I suggested he get a pope hat so he could look like Benedict in repose.  I’m not sure how that went over. 

I had a lot to say about Kim Kardashian in that previously written post but that’s the kind of crap I need to rise above if this blog is to shoot to sudden fame after 17 years.  The only thing that really resonated with me is the fact that Kim makes her staff wear color-coordinated outfits that match her mansion. I make my cleaning lady do the same.

So here comes the boring part, my life and times. The wife and I ventured up to La Mar Cebecheria on the Embarcadero mid-December to finally use the gift certificate the kids gave us for our birthdays.  The food was great, but we ordered too much so I was able to give some of our fried calamari to a homeless guy.  Our next venture to the big city was on the 22nd with the whole family. We stopped at The House of Shields, established in 1908. It was a regular stop on my way home back in the mid-90s when I was working at One Post.  I also visited there a few times with my old man and we both felt at home. 

After cocktails, we ventured over to the Ferry Building to meet up with my sister and LA along with 4M and his wife. We settled into the wine bar there for an hour or so before heading over to Perbacco. DJ says give it a try, you can’t go wrong. 4M took over the wine ordering while we all had a fine meal. I had the pappardelle. The older gentleman pouring our wine turned out to be the owner. He may have wanted to tend to us because of my celebrity.

On Christmas Eve we had a home invasion.  21 of our closest friends and family showed up with wine and lasagna. The kids and wife had transformed the family room into a dining hall.  I took it easy as I had come up with a hip strain that is still bugging me.  It has gotten me out of a lot of work. This annual event, which began as the Feast of the Seven Fishes and is now the feast of the multiple lasagnas, could possibly be moving over to #1’s house in the next year or two. I’ll believe it when I see it.

We had a fun Christmas day.  I got two actual presents for my wife as opposed to the traditional Hillsdale Mall gift certificate. It’s the thought that counts. The only bummer was that the girl’s fiance’s flight got canceled so she ended up staying in Portland. I got a cool bio picture book named the Detritus Daily News and the exact same pair of Nike exercise pants from my daughter that she gave me last year.  She’ll be making a return visit to the Nike store. Everybody else got exactly what they wanted.

We celebrated Christmas Day dinner with the family of SB1’s wife. I was in charge of the beer can chicken and my daughter was busy making artisanal cocktails that resembled snow globes.  I stuck with the Zin. I made to about 10:30, which is a feat.

Stay tuned for my next post, which should be up some time in the next few months, since I now need to make it somewhat interesting.  Maybe I’ll hold forth on nepo babies or why so many Russians seem to be falling out of windows.

No pictures for you UK.  Maybe next time.