Oh niner.

We were in New York for new year’s last year. I remember ice skating in Central Park under the falling snow, and I remember my filling my dad’s hotel suite with people playing Mario Party on Rafa’s Wii.

A few weeks later, it was hopey time.










Easy to mock, but it was a really fun long weekend. I had the Audacity of Hops brew (link), and I stood in the cold for hours, and I wish I could do it again.





People moved away in 2009. Too many people spread too thin over the crust of the earth.

For the third time in as many years, we went to Colorado. This time we saw the aspens turning, and I couldn’t help but think of Scooter Libby’s letter to Judith Miller. It’s oddly elegant, isn’t it? “Come back to work – and to life.”

That grad school thing started up.

I got onboard with facebook and twitter, and with the smartphone thing.

Pavement announced their reunion tour.

I heard the best song about the Bush years, but not until Bush had left office.

This year, we celebrate in the heat of Rio. Goodbye, aughts.

Does god shower?

Dinner at Commonwealth, the return of DK, and scotch eggyness (and cask ales, and scotch-scotchyness) bring on a number of esoteric debate topics, such as whether dinosaurs go to heaven.

More important than discussion of gender construct (like this book or the fact that I was recently "no homo"'d) is the question of whether god showers.

My side: No, why would god shower? Cleanliness is by definition next to him. He doesn't need to shower - he can just, you know, wish himself clean, or wish himself the pleasure associated with a nice hot shower. ("Wish" isn't the right word, but, you know, pretend I used whatever theologian-esque word god would use to make something that is not actual into something actual.)

The other side: Forget about the utilitarian thing! SHOWERS ARE NICE! Not the feeling of being clean, not the feeling after the shower - the actual shower is nice. Why wouldn't god want to feel something nice?

I paused, harumphed. And then said, "But if god is after 'nice,' why wouldn't he just take a shvitz?"

And that, my friends, is how you invoke the ghost of Pussy Bonpensiero to win a debate about whether god showers or not.

More "remember when?" talk

In the never-ending series of conversations about how people-of-a-certain-age-remember-a-certain-something, my entry for the week is:

Remember when "the crawl" on news coverage was not ubiquitous, but was rather reserved for time periods when there was a lot of stuff going on? I want to say that most news programs went to the 24/7 crawl as a result of 9/11. Am I right about that?

Today in "Jesus, kids, what part of 'I went to college in the 1990s do you not understand?'"

[Before micro final tonight.]

Classmate KR: How long till we get tonight's grades? Shouldn't they be ready in a week or so?

Classmate ND: Maybe not till January, right?

Me: What are you guys basing this on?

KR: Well, at my college,there was a requirement that final exam results had to be posted on blackboard within 3 days of the final. How long was it at your school?

Me:...see, we didn't get our grades online back then. We had to wait for the mail.

(Predictably, this degenerates into me saying that final grades used to be delivered by pony, in a wax-sealed envelope, and that we rode said pony back to school.)

It's pleasant...

...how life deteriorates (though that's the wrong word, of course)into a series of weeknight meals that are, more often than not, vegetarian, accompanied by sensible amounts of wine.

how I communicate with my classmates

Email sent yesterday:

Dear Young 'Uns,

Back when I was in the prime of my youth - before Lauryn Hill went solo, but well after Naughty by Nature's heyday - we used to do this thing called "pre-gaming." Do you kids still have that?

See, during the heady days that opened Clinton's second term, you could buy a pack of cigarettes for less than two dollars, minimum wage was about $5.15 an hour, and everyone had to watch tv when their shows were on instead of after the fact because the Internet was barely useful. We would call each other on landlines, and then come together to listen to cassette tapes while we enjoyed a libation or two before the start of whatever function we were attending. When the song we liked was over, we had to REWIND THE TAPE, unless someone had had the foresight to put "Red red wine" by UB40 or "Once in a lifetime" by the Talking Heads twice on the same side of a tape. Sadly, few of us ever did have that foresight.

In anticipation of the merriment this coming Thursday evening (namely, the GPPI holiday party), I am suggesting that you kids stop myspacing your tweets and recording your auto-tuned albums for half a night and join in on some pre-gaming.

Suggested location is XXXX on P street because apparently they run a BOGO on cocktails during happy hour from 4 to 7 and I think they're always empty. If you're not sure where that is, please consult a PHONE BOOK like we used to do back in the day, and then find yourself a map or a knowledgeable person who can point you there.

Time...6 pm sound ok? You know, before the advent of cell phones, you never had conversations that consisted entirely of "Hey, it's me, I'll be there in ten minutes." No. If someone was late to meet you, you just had to shut up and wait. Which you did while smoking, because it was all the rage back then.

The aughts: best of.

Besy new Dylan tunes of the 2000s: Workingman's blues and Mississippi.

Best concept/story album: The Sunset Tree, by the Mountain Goats. (Close second: Aimee Mann's The Forgotten Arm. Separation Sunday falls to third because of the band's descent into self-parody.)

Best new label: Soundway. Honorable mention: Numero.

Decade-defining career arc: Wilco. From stratospheric to afterthought. (also: Pixies? Also, Matt Drudge.)

SNL host of the decade: Justin Timberlake. Peyton Manning is a close second.

Footballer of the decade: Ronaldinho Gaucho? (I'm biased, of course, but here's my logic: it has to be someone who has achieved at the club/league, club/continent, and national side/world cup level. Zidane is unfortunately a decent vote, but he disqualifies himself by getting sent off in the final match of 2006. Plus, his crowning achievement was in 1998. The 2006 Italian team may be the least talented team ever to win a World Cup, so they have no one in the running. Kaka might be another vote, but his role in the 2002 title was minimal. And if you put him in there, well, why give someone like Didier Drogba the shaft?)

Quarterback of the decade: Peyton again. Brady won more rings, but we're talking individual accomplishments.

Baller of the decade: Kobe. Unfortunately.

Food of the decade: Sushi. Because you can get it in landlocked states, and in supermarkets. Not good things, necessarily, but unlikely, 10 years ago, to think that supermarkets in Indiana would sell sushi.

Beer of the decade: Unibroue's La Fin du Monde, followed closely by Dogfishhead's 90 Minute IPA.

Album I just don't get from this decade: SMiLE by Brian Wilson.

1980s movie of the decade: Robocop as a new critique of Haliburton. Dick Jones = Dick Cheney.