Merry Christmas

This display of holiday lights is courtesy of some folks on Rte 200 we've affectionately dubbed "The River Tefts" after a family that used to make Bowie, MD glow with light.

Snow at the River

Breaking: But I Don't Like ALL of Them

Now the disclaimers... The photo in the previous post is from our family collection, but we don't know who it is. Nobody will claim that old, uh, person. I'm inclined to pause and wonder if it's even a living person as there was a time when you might very well be photographed like that post-life. Everywhere lately I've been encountering what I less charitably call "Unattended Elderly".


In Target the other day I quickly approached an employee stocking shelves to get help, get a manager for the love of God because there was an old woman screaming bloody murder at the pharmacy staff. I eavesdropped plenty but I still couldn't detect what exactly was causing the enormous temper tantrum. I could tell she was old, had a lot of prescriptions, and MAD. Whether she was mad-mad or just mad, I dunno. Eventually the worker came back to find me and thanked me for getting his attention. But the old lady was still givin' them heck at the counter. Maybe she was a smidge quieter, maybe. She was definitely still haranguing. That's when I started to feel really bad for the pharmacy staff. It occurred to me that this might be an on-going thing. That they might suffer this customer every week or worse. Truthfully, they suffer some version of this customer pretty much all day every day I would imagine.


And that is what both saddens and infuriates me. There are people who've graduated from the rat race and when they're forced to dip a toe back in to get groceries, go to the doctor, drive--you know--anywhere in the left lane with their turn signal on at 25 for three miles, they cannot keep up. And I know some of them are just fiercely independent. They cling to their carkeys and their houses. And why shouldn't they, they lived through the Big D, the Depression that makes our financial woes look like a run in your pantyhose. But, really, how many of them just have no one to take over? No one to straighten out the trouble with their prescriptions at the pharmacy or whip through the express lane for them with the groceries they need. And then, for many, as we experienced when Lexi finally made her way into Therapy Dog work, will end up spending their days rolling a wheelchair out into a nursing room hall for some kind of stimulation. Or worse, gazing into their food plate until someone comes to take it away.


So yes, I hope for us that our minds and bodies will be strong together until they're not. I hope that we can stay as quizzical, engaged, in love and warm-hearted as Junior and Etta Grey were.

Breaking: I Like Old People Pt1

It turns out, in a development that shocks me, I like old people. A very, very particular limited elite hybrid of old people whose leaders are Uncle Junior and Etta Grey. No one really calls him Uncle Junior, just Junior but thanks to the popularity of the Sopranos I now find myself piecing together that he is Jac's great uncle. And great he is.


"Ohhhh Lexus!!" Etta Grey would exclaim each time she saw our dog Lexi. She is a dog-lover. She embraced Lexi and I could feel the sense of relief she had having a dog back in her life after an absence. Each time she greeted "Lexus" she was renewed. And when we brought Kirby to meet her, she immediately dubbed him "Curly". Junior entered his eighth decade by plunging into the Internet. He had Facebook, wi-fi, and a laptop before many who are decades younger. Last Christmas we gave him a custom notebook for keeping track of his favorite websites and passwords.


As Etta Grey recovered from an injury in 2008, she sat perched on the edge of her car seat to give us hugs hello or goodbye. In the hometown of Jerry Falwell, she spied our Obama magnet on our car and exclaimed, "Oh! Whose Obama sticker is that?" Jac copped to the potentially inflammatory decal. "Well, good for you!" she squealed with delight and a pat on the back. They've been married for 61 years.


And then quite recently, Junior fell ill. He had a blockage which required surgery. We hoped that he'd have that and be back on his feet. Then news came that there was an infection and he'd probably need some recovery time in a nursing home. Then word came that there was a problem with his heart... and people started talking about "arrangements".


When I think of what I really want out of life for Jac and myself, it is to get through everything as happily as possible and to find ourselves on the other end of the timeline as warm, loving and adventurous as this one particular old couple we've known.

OMG STFU FB

Facebook you are totally blowing my mind right now. The trials and tribulations are really more than Days of Our Lives ever had to offer. Just saw an ad for DOOL and apparently Bo & Hope's marriage is under siege again. I mean come ON!


There are old acquaintances you agree to "friend" on Facebook and then you (at least I do) get sucked into piecing together the big picture of their lives from shards of information they (and sometimes their commenters) share. Maybe it is the culmination of our overexposure - from the paparazzi and media delving into once dark corners of celebrities and "15 minutes of fame" types that compels the oversharing. 


I just read both Julie Powell's reaction to critics and Sarah Palin's Op-Ed on the environment and I continue to be amazed and impressed that in the world of the web everyone is entitled to (as they say) everyone else's opinions. The media has started linking the fame seekers as though they were part of a group. (How long until there is a syndrome?) I don't know how many news reports about the Salahi gate crashers I saw that featured footage of the Balloon Boy family, the theme being what lengths people will go to for microfame... and the chance at actual fame, even if it's not for some noteworthy achievement.


But Facebook is as much about figuring things out for yourself and documenting them, for yourself and whoever pauses while scanning over your post, as it is about declaring who you are. I've said before that I'm glad I grew up when I did and we had as much web as we did but not what we have now. I am sure this makes me as antiquated as the grocery store check writer (Seriously, at least use your debit card!) I would not have wanted to have high school on the social network. It was already such a complex world, add in friending, de-friending, and relationship changes right there in black and white and that is hell as far as I can tell. And college oh my.


I am silently (and sometimes not so silently by "liking") cheering news that several schoolmates and friends are working on their degrees past 21. I'm stunned how much the children they now have look like the friends I once knew. I'm rooting for the people going through the tough times. Elle Kasey is overanalyzing Facebook.

On Becoming Caps Fans

As I've said before, DC is a tough town. Washingtonians are a fairly serious people, on the whole. We're constantly derided for our lack of fashion sense, choice of local politicians, atrocious traffic, (until recently) for our dining scene, our summer and winter weather (too much summer swamp, too pitiful when it snows) and on it goes.


Traditionally, being a Redskins fan was a badge of honor. True Washingtonians hailed the Redskins no matter what their record. But, the last few years a shift has been taking place, and not just in the stripe of politicians we host. The action has moved inside to the Verizon Center in DC. From Olie to Ovie, the fans like what they're seeing. 


I think we were about the last ones to discover what all the fuss was about. I'd seen hockey on tv before but it seemed so chaotic I couldn't get into it. And then a little thing called HDTV came along and suddenly the ice came alive. It makes such a difference that we grouse our way through any game we're forced to watch in standard definition. SD games look like the local high school football "Clip of the Week" on the local news. There are cell phone videos with more cinematic appeal than SD hockey games.


But the team's winning ways are at least as compelling as the pixels. We started watching games sometime last year. I fully admit we hopped on the winning team bandwagon. Jac and I had dipped our non-sports-lovin' toes into the water about a year earlier when we started watching Redskins games when there was nothing else on. We didn't go out of our way to catch them, but I think we were both looking for a little bit of community.


And then along came the Caps. Games are fast and furious. Even if you don't know the rules you can generally tell when someone does something good or bad. The games are quick (compared to a lot of other televised sports) and usually they're over by 9:30. So you can actually do other things on a game night in addition to watching the game.


A funny thing happened when we started identifying ourselves as Caps fans, hordes of people we know welcomed us into their club. My Facebook stream features almost as many Caps comments as it does Skins woes. The Caps community is maybe the best kept secret in DC. Who would have thought people would be so friendly surrounding a game known for its fighting. 

Boston Outtakes

I would imagine it's simply THE place for cowboy boots in Boston.

Boston Outtakes

The Upper Crust - For Eyes

Ewww, bad juxtaposition there. 


I've got a million of them people. (The For Eyes shop was located in the space below the Upper Crust shop above.)

Boston Outtakes: A Fitting End

As I was coveting the too precious Petit Bateau children's clothes from across Newbury Street in Boston, I was charmed by the suitably-attired window dresser. 

Bistro Bis - but First

When we asked our waiter the meaning of Bistro Bis (pitting him against the iPhone for speed and accuracy) he returned with the corporate answer that this was the chef/owner's second outing after the wildly successful Vidalia and Bis means an encore. It was a clever name. It is a well-known and regarded restaurant. I have a few little questions about things, but the location excelled for the reason it was chosen, allowing a long, leisurely, audible and intimate brunch for my family on my Dad's birthday. 


I was surprised to discover that Bistro Bis had sprung up right across the street from the Hall of the States building where I cut my teeth on national and workplace politics right after college. It's inside a Kimpton hotel, a fact my sister missed completely when she wondered why there was a fitness center adjacent to the restaurant's restrooms.

I ordered this: Tarte Flambé, Alsatian-style caramelized onion and bacon tart with fromage blanc and it was definitely not lacking in protein.

Then I ordered the Onion Soup Les Halles, described as rich beef broth with caramelized onions, sourdough croûtons and gruyère cheese and it was beautifully presented...

Jac had the steak and eggs with pommes frites...

My dad had crepes stuffed with chicken, onions and mushrooms (I think, it was a special.)

My sister had the French toast which I would have enjoyed. (French toast is a dodgy proposition for egg foes like me. It can be one of the least egg-laden things at breakfast or one of the most.)

And D had the Croque Monsieur, graciously accommodated from the listed Croque Madame.

The food was good and the restaurant beautifully appointed, but at least from this outing I wouldn't compare it to the meals I had at Vidalia at its prime. We had dessert as well, I may revisit that course in another post so stay tuned!

Snow Frolic

It's the first snow of the season and the dogs are as happy as can be.

Boston Those Wacky Outtakes

Location... it's the name of the game of course. Naturally one would assume that a company called Newbury Prime Realty Corp. would have cornered the market on exquisite environs in Boston. I was surprised to find it lurking below street level surrounded by concrete and safety cones. I guess it is a really tough market out there.

24 Hours - All Whirlwind

Woosh! My work peaks at the craziest times. Right now everyone's eyes are on the holidays. They are trying to crunch a 13th month into half of the 12th one. So whatever I need to give them needs to be done in half the normal month minus one full imaginary month. My mind is going a mile a minute. From old customers to potential new customers to reconnecting with all the people I hope will help us in the coming year, it is a busy time! So why is my brain filling every molecule of space with new puzzles? I've been exploring Google Wave, VOIP, trying to fix Firefox which wants to forget my bookmarks every day, stalking cyber deals, learning a new craft, devising a new shipping system for Santa's workshop over here, and other mfffph projects.


Google Wave is described as "what email would be if it were invented today instead of 40 years ago." I do sometimes run up against the limitations of email - like when an attachment doesn't do what it's supposed to on the other end or when someone muffs a distribution list. There's an 80 minute video just to explain what Google Wave is so you probably have plenty of time before it goes mainstream. That is, unless someone assigns it to me in the next two weeks...

Oh Yes, It's the Boston Outtakes!

We both observed an unusual phenomenon during our trip to Boston - and the Northeast in general. Everywhere we saw construction it was accompanied by law enforcement keeping watch. We've all seen police shepherding traffic around intersections under construction, but these guys were hanging about ALL manner of civil construction including every open manhole. (Uh...buh dum bump?) Seriously, everywhere they were lingering. In Boston, I wondered if it was some sort of byproduct of the Big Dig or whether there might be some sort of color-coded alert I wasn't hip to, but nah, I think it's just the way things are done.

Edison, New Jersey is What Happens When Google Maps Does the Plan

Whoa, I hope I didn't startle you! Our New England escape was winding down. We were returning to function over form. That's how I chose Edison, New Jersey for the last stop on our trip. I had been playing around with Google Maps for weeks and during our trip I tweaked the plans one last time - moving our last stay from Connecticut to New Jersey so we'd be a skosh closer to home for the last leg of the drive. We arrived during the continuing rain from the remnants of Hurricane Ida. Our Courtyard Marriott (trying to rack up the rewards points here people) was off the turnpike...just. We had simple needs that last night, edible food and a tv showing the Caps/NJ Devils game. We found both in lovely Edison, New Jersey.

After checking in we trolled for delivery options but soon surmised we'd have to venture out in the rain again. We found a mall-type area where I captured the two images that made this post so worthwhile. Yes, Jac had been on a seafood bender, but even he couldn't bring himself to sample the Chicago Pizzeria Uno lobster sliders. I was jonesing for pumpkin anything, but their pumpkin tiramisu was out of my league. After a fair number of screw ups from our bumbling waiter, we downed some pizza and headed back to the hotel.


The Caps lost badly and we were on the road before the hotel's coffee service started in the morning. In fact, we were out of New Jersey before the sun came up...