While I was out

It's a new year, and new blog entry. So much has happened.

Christ had a birthday.
As much as I enjoy visiting my in-laws, and as far over backwards Grandma Jellyspoon bends to accommodate all the family and friends that swarm into her home over the holidays, I've resigned myself that every other Christmas will be just a little off. The in-laws are very generous with their gifting, but they like to wrap these gifts in stuff like newspaper circulars and fabric swatches. Furthermore, they open their gifts on Christmas Eve, which makes about as much sense as celebrating Ash Tuesday or getting piss-drunk and yelling "Woooo!" in Times Square on December 30th.

I went on two dates.
Long ago, my wife and I realized we have the absolute opposite taste in movies. So after the boys passed out we scampered over to the multiplex, kissed fondly, and headed toward separate theaters. I saw Syriana, in which George Clooney is fat and inscrutable, and my wife saw Walk The Line, in which Joaquin Phoenix sings. On our next night, for old time's sake, we bucked tradition and saw The Producers together. She wanted to see The Ringer, and I wish I'd listened.

We made it home alive.
The last time the four of us took an airplane together, TwoBert was a passive lump who nursed and slept his way to Minnesota. Now he is a massive lump—a grunting, pre-mobile, 20-pound wiggle-walrus (mini-tusks and all) who thinks lap confinement is a crime against humanity. The force of all the TwoBert tradeoffs, the two carseats, and all the extra loot we lugged through the airports (see generosity, above) was enough to compress my spine rather handily. If I hadn't tipped all those skycaps and shuttle-bus drivers, I'd probably be an inch shorter.

I saw Lord Webber's Phantom of the Opera on cable.
Easily the worst piece of shit committed to cinema in years. They're playing this at black sites, I know it.

We classed up the joint.
As a New Year's resolution, we decided to infuse the Laid-Off Lair with an aura that lets our guests know they are in a home that appreciates tasteful furnishings and intellectual pursuits. We replaced Robert's plastic toy bins with tony wicker baskets, bought a couple of earth-toned slipcovers, and placed a book of sudoku puzzles on the back of the toilet.

I made my deadline.
After we made it home, I took a couple days in the Rose Reading Room on Fifth and 42nd. I owe that magnificent room a terrific debt, because whenever I've procrastinated long enough and am in danger of handing in 30 pages of "the quick brown fox makes Jack a dull boy," I can set up a laptop there and the words just pour out of me. If you haven't stopped in to see it, you definitely should. You can circulate among the nitwits who stand around gawking right in the middle of the traffic pattern, while some of us are hurrying back from the bathroom to make sure our shit hasn't been stolen.

I grew a goatee.
More accurately, I didn't shave for 10 days and grew fond of stroking my chin pensively. I'm going back to work tomorrow looking like a bad boy. A rebel. A bad-boy rebel who hangs out in the library and does sudoku on the crapper.

Comments

[anne]

i want a photo of the classed up joint. even more, a snap of this bad boy rebel beard of yours. then i can use the photoshop in my head to imagine you in the rose reading room, pensively stroking. your chin.

[KA]

I think that's the one place I HAVEN'T done Sudoku. I've found that easily the best place to work out a Sudoku puzzle is on the Metro to and fro work. There's nothing to distract me because oh hell no do I want to make eye contact with the old guy who smells like stale urine.

Happy New Year!

[the patriarch]

My wife has recently become a Sudoko fiend. I guess it's better than all that crack she used to smoke. I'm joking. I'm the crack fiend in the family. Anyway, congrats on making the deadline. Three of my favorite bloggers who are also parents have book deals. I'm off to kill myself now.

[anon]

Doesn't the omnipresent smell of homeless guy distract you at the Rose? It kind of gets to me.

[jaime]

you are right - the producers movie was a... all these words come to mind, but i'll settle on saying it was very, very bad. i spent ten minutes towards the end (the interminable scene after the show, before jail) text-messaging friends about how very bad it was. i hope syriana didn't similarly disappoint - i'm headed to that one tonight.

[Anne Glamore]

My hubby and I saw sifferent movies also-- I saw Producers and Walk the Line. I'm a big MattheB fan but I was underwhelmed. But boy, did I love watching Reese sing "Jackson!"

[LOD]

Movies and Broaday musicals are merging into one mutant heap of offal. It's bad enough when movies like "Full Monty" are adapted for the stage. But this lates reverse trend--resulting in crap like Phantom, Producers, and Rent--is chilling.

This is what happens after Chicago wins an Oscar.

[L Man]

The only reason I'd pay to see The Producers is to view the glory of Uma Thurman's hooters. (I'm pretty sure they're not on display though, which, is really too bad. I'm sure the reviews would have been more favorable.)

NOTE: I tried to come up with some killer Oprah/Uma stuff to inject here, given that you're payroll and all...but, it all just came out lame-ass. Which is precisely why I won't be getting a book deal any time soon.

Speaking of which, this book mystery is killing me. Is it another one of your calculus masterpieces? Yet one more "I'm a clever blogger and you're not" tome (yeah, I know, that's just the envy and bitterness bleeding through...again), or, could it be: that long-awaited first novel?

[drunkle]

LOD, you must know by now that your in-laws are always just a bit off. But we do love having you around to gift with odd and unsual things in strange wrappings at random times. We save the conventional for those we don't care that much about. It was good to see you all!

[LOD]

Right back atcha, Drunkle. I embrace the weirdness, and it feeds my soul.

[jaime]

ugh, on the topic of musicals & movies - in the works are musicals of 'the wedding singer,' 'tarzan' (the disney version), and 'legally blonde.' among, i'm sure, many others. one the one hand, making musicals, getting people to see them - great. but *blech*. what happened to theatre being some sort of art?

okay, snobby-theatre-dork rant done now.

[superdeens]

Ooooh! A trackback!! I think you're hilarious, LOD, even if I'm several years behind you. I hope I have as much fun as you do when I have kids.

[Corinne]

Who doesn't do sudoku on the crapper? At my parents house, it's several volumes of Uncle John's Bathroom Readers that keep us entertained. :)

[Joog Eye]

"Reverse trend"? LOD, haven't they been turning B'way musicals into films for well over 50 years now? Granted, this latest batch can't hold a candle to the movie musicals of yore...