Miller Lite, the bitches beer

After another week of watching football I really need to rant and get this off my chest.

Miller Lite's ads just piss me off. And here's why:

The whole premise is a bunch of attractive female bartenders emasculating guys who order a generic light beer instead of Miller Lite.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a big fan of attractive bitchy girls - when they're clever. These commercials aren't clever, or funny and the girls are just offensively rude and oh yeah...

IT'S FUCKING MILLER LITE!
Which no one with a college degree should be drinking anyway.

Wait, a guy has the balls to not care about your "Vortex Bottle"? How dare he, we must insult his manhood.
Do you know how useless this so-called revolutionary bottle is? Incredibly useless. Here's proof:
The German's don't do it, the Czech's don't do it, the Irish don't do it, the Brits don't do it. No self-respecting, beer-loving country puts their beverage in a bottle with a wind tunnel in it except for our gimmick loving, quality blind one. Even the over priced crappy beers (Corona, Heineken, etc.) don't try that crap.

Oh no, a guy dares order a non-Miller Lite beer because he believes they all taste the same!
Quick, cut him off at the nuts. Get a girl in a tight shirt to tell him he's not a man. Perhaps he's not, but it's because he's drinking a light beer in general, so a Miller Lite won't help him grow nuts. (I'll probably expand further in a rant on 'low calorie' beer ads. Spoiler: if you don't want calories - drink water).

I can respect that 2 of the commercials dish out the insults to obvious douche guys - the guy wearing sunglasses at the bar and the obviously clad in Ed Hardy guy. But that's not the point of the ad to make fun of the Axe Body Spray crowd. Other versions seek to make fun of other guys for no other reason than because they have working taste buds and ordered something other than a Miller Lite.

As if I needed another reason to be pissed, there's this ad. Now, I'm fine with making fun of a guy for carrying a man-purse/European carry-all, but it was funnier the first time I saw it, in this ad. And Flo didn't have to be a bitch about it.

So fuck you Miller Lite and you're offensive and offensively shitty (to anyone in the advertising industry) commercials. I like bitchy girls, but you couldn't find one to make me drink your piss water.

Side Note: Wendy's don't think that I didn't notice you taking the same approach with your "2 things" commercial. You've been warned, knock that crap off.

Country Roads: Part 4 - The Bobo's Bungle

I had made sure to set my alarm to wake up in time to catch the tail end of the complimentary continental breakfast in the hotel. I wasn't expecting much, and it didn't disappoint. I grabbed an apple danish, a mini muffin and a bowl of fruit loops and headed back up to my room to shower and plan the next stage of the trip.

I chowed down, input my plans into Google maps and headed for the shower. When I dried off I realized I had forgotten all about the Fruit Loops and had to flush them for they had become too soggy to salvage. I gazed at the map and it's simplistic directions.

Get on I-70E
Arrive Kansas City (6xx miles)

I thought about how I didn't really want to drive 600 miles through Kansas and formulated some alternate plans, namely stopping for the night in either Topeka or Lawrence which were on the way. I was already planning on briefly stopping in Topeka to chow down at another Diners, Drive-Ins and Dive's joint - Bobo's Drive In.
I'll spare you the details of the drive, needless to say that it was far less eventful than the previous day. After leaving Colorado I reached Kansas... and that's all I have to say about that.

Fortunately, I had supplemented my iPods music catalog with a collection of audiobooks, and with nothing but flat lands and hundreds of miles between me and my destination, now seemed like the most opportune time to give them a whirl. I set the cruise control at a brisk 72mph and selected an Agatha Christie mystery to engage my mind and counteract awesome boringness that is Kansas.

I was at first caught off guard that my audiobook wasn't really an audiobook (where someone reads the book to you) but rather a BBC radio production of the book. SCORE! "We present John Moffet as Hercule Poirot, in Agatha Christie's 'Appointment with Death'".

I honestly couldn't tell you anything about my journey for the next hour or so because I was so caught up in the story. Fantastic production. When it ended I pulled over for some food. I believe it was another Burger King (gotta love those gift cards). After a quick meal, I got gas and popped in another mystery, "Murder in the Clouds".

Those stories, and later some music got me through most of Kansas.

I arrived in Topeka shortly after 10pm and set the GPS for Bobo's Drive-In. I got there too late. They close at 8pm.

8pm! In the summer! In Topeka, Kansas - where, I could plainly see, there wasn't anything else going on.

I was dejected. But I made the best of it, jumped out of the car and recorded my trip on my Flip so that it would forever be part of the video record that I was there, even if I wasn't able to eat there.

As I headed back towards the highway I was a bit hungry so I had the GPS tell me where I could find some other fast food options. Suddenly, I saw one that we don't have on the East Coast, and, to make things better, Marc Summers (yes, former host of Double Dare), had mentioned on the Food Network Show, "The Best Thing I Ever Ate" - Steak N' Shake.
I pulled up hoping they'd still be open. My fears were quickly put to ease as the sign read they close at 3am and have malts and shake happy hours from 2-4 (am and pm, eat that Sonic). I went inside to find a quasi-fast food joint, retrofitted to a '50s diner/soda shop motif. The waitress was young and nice and I asked her to excuse my wide-eyedness having never been there before as I looked over the menu.

4 meals for under $4 you say. And one of them is a triple steak burger with fries? Unheard of. Yes I'll have that. And to drink... hmm, double fudge shake sounds good. Yeah, let's go with that.
It was a delicious meal.

Afterwards, I hopped back into the car and headed towards Lawrence, home of the University of Kansas Jayhawks. Also known as, most hated college basketball team #2. (Seriously, it's the one title I'll gladly give Duke every year).

After crossing my first toll road of the trip ($1 to go about 4 exits), I made my way to the EconoLodge I had looked up earlier on Expedia - see, I'm learning. Well to my surprise the guy at the desk actually charged me $5 less than the Expedia rate I was planing on. Not one to argue I took my room card, and pulled the car around.

The room was your standard cheap for the night motel, but comfortable non-the-less. It lacked some of the outrageous amenities of the motel in Denver, but that was to be expected. I had my free wi-fi, plenty of outlets to charge my things and a comfortable bed. What was more, was that I was 4/5ths of the way through another Agatha Christie mystery, "Murder in Mesopotamia" and couldn't wait to get back on the road the next day to hear the conclusion.

I also decided that I would obtain more of these BBC productions once I returned home, and gather mother and sister around the iPod to listen to the stories as we ate dinner some evening. In old-timey Americana fashion. I thought the idea fit me well, merging the modern with the classic, as is so often my way.

And so with that thought I laid my head down to rest on yet another bed, in yet another state.

Country Roads: Part 3 - Highway to Heaven

I awoke on Day 3 around 6am as the sun began to shine through the windshield. I thought about repositioning myself so that the light wasn't in my eyes and trying to sleep a little more, but figured that it wouldn't be long before the hotel staff were awake and discovered me. And the last thing I wanted was to pay for a hotel room I didn't get to sleep in.

So I turned on the car and continued my journey. I needed gas so I made an almost immediate stop at the first place I saw. Bought a 24oz Lemon-Lime Gatorade for breakfast, took most of my medication (all of the important ones) and chowed down on a mini box of Fruit Loops I had packed for just such an emergency. Then I headed out.

I had crossed into Utah under the cover of night so I didn't really see much of it until the next day. The mountains were beautiful. I stopped at a few "scenic turnoffs" to snap some pictures. Then I would jump back in the car and continue to press onward.

Around the town of MOAB, Utah I passed by a McDonalds and needing to pee decided this was a good place to stop. Besides, since I had been driving since 6am I definitely deserved a proper breakfast. As I walked in I noticed the "Free Wi-Fi" sign on the door and after using the lavy (practicing for London), I ran back to my car and got my laptop.

I ordered the usual, 2 sausage biscuits and a medium OJ, and sat down to enjoy and map out my route for the day. I was heading towards Denver. And after the incident the night before, I was more vigilant in looking up places to stay. I got addresses and phone numbers in case the GPS crapped out on me before I got someone, I could call and ask for directions. I also updated my fledgling fantasy baseball teams, responded to some emails and updated my Facebook status. Honestly I could work out of a McDonalds now a days.

I got back in the car, directions in hand, breakfast in belly and continued my tour of Utah. I passed by a small shop offering ATV and Dirt Bike tours and turned around to drive by it 3 more times. I was seriously considering it, as it is on my life's to do list. However, I was exhausted. I realized that it wouldn't be as fun or safe in my current condition. So I continued towards I-70. Once I got on, I pulled over at the first gas station, circled around back and grabbed myself a trucker nap.

I woke up an hour or so later as the sun was now high over head and it was starting to heat up in the desert. I went inside the convenience mart, where I picked up some water and an enticing looking ice cream treat - Snickers Brownie Bar. It was damn good. I got back in the car and kept driving.

A little later on I pulled off again to grab another nap. This time it was at a Kum and Go convenience store. I mention the name only because this is obviously the work of a copywriter. Someone decided that they absolutely had to use a "U" instead of the "O "and "E". Then they realized it may be offensive and unappetizing to, well just about everyone, so they kicked out the "C" and replaced it with a "K" to add a coolness factor to it. I laughed a lot at that.

Back in the car and the day is really long. Stopped for gas and grabbed a quick bite at a Wendy's. But the real hero was the Frizzle.

It's like a slurpee. Whatever this chain of stores' brand. There were two options, "Rock n' Roll" which looked to be a combination of berries and "Dragon Fruit" which seemed to have grapes and a dragonfruit. I made my decision in the only logical way possible. Which one was purpler, because purple-ness is next to godliness. The Dragonfruit won out.

It was incredibly delicious.

Back on the road and I was into Colorado now. I had passed through maybe 2 counties and had seen the rockies (Rich, they really are big. John Denver wasn't lying) in the distance. Now I was driving on what I will forever call the "Highway to Heaven".

This has to be the most beautiful stretch of road in the country. You're driving in between the mountains. The Colorado River is on your side. East and West traffic are separated. There are tunnels through the mountains. The speed limit is 75mph. There's nothing about it that isn't perfect.

Remember in the end of Gladiator, when Russell Crowe is dying and he sees himself walking through the golden fields on the way to his family? I'd like this stretch of road to be what I see when I reach that moment. It's truely remarkable.

So after all that I made it to Denver. I passed by Invesco Field and stopped at a Burger King which had Wi-Fi (to change it up, plus I had a gift card) and got directions to a nearby motel. I called to check availability this time and the woman at the counter told me not to worry. So I inputted the coordinates into Google Maps and was off.

20 minutes later I was back at Burger King. Since my battery in my laptop was dying I didn't pay attention to my starting location, which was wrong, and therefore gave me directions I could never follow. I plugged in after finding an available outlet and re-tried to get directions.

Driving down the road I saw the hotel to my right. Then a sign saying the bridge was out. I went down the next turn and tried to find my way about 700 feet over to get to the hotel. Couldn't do it. Got frustrated and went to look for another way there. Came back again and this time noticed the orange Detour signs. Followed them and got to the hotel.

$39.99 for the night.

I wasn't expecting much. But they had a laundry room so I decided to wash all of the dirty laundry I was bringing with me (since it was the only bag of clothes I could reach and had worn the same shirt and shorts for the past 2 days). When I got to my room I was amazed.

A fridge. Not the mini kind, the same size as my apartment in Binghamton all those years ago.
A microwave.
A sink (kitchen).
A stove.
Plenty of outlets.
A king sized bed.
Plus free Wi-Fi

It was great. I ran down and put my laundry in. Brought up some drinks from the cooler and put them in the fridge. Started charging everything. When the clothes were done I got in the shower, did some internet work and then, around 1 or 2 in the morning, finally went to bed.

My best friend's wedding - better than any movie

This is obviously long overdue, but I've been incredibly busy. But that's for another post. This one is all about Mike's wedding.

So you may remember from the Mike's bachelor party recap, that I had arrived to JFK at something like 7am on Friday and gone to the bachelor party that night. Saturday was a day of rest and relaxation reserved for me and the family. My mom, sister and I did our best to cram two birthdays in (my sister's b-day was Friday and mine would be Monday, the day I flew back to Cali).

Sunday morning I woke up bright and early. Well, my version of bright and early - around 10, 10:30am. My mom had pancakes and bacon waiting, because she is just as good as I tell people she is and there was a Revive Vitamin Water in the fridge. Whether it's placebo or that bottle actually contains magic in it, I don't know or care, but it's how I start big days like this or recover from really great nights. I jumped in the shower and got myself ready like it was 9pm and me and the gang were getting ready for a night of legendary partying. In essence that's what I was getting ready for, just with the eternal love and commitment part crammed in the middle there. Oh, and there would be more people than we have ever rolled with. So out of the shower I had the music blasting as I dressed, slowly and methodically. I checked myself after adding each layer to make sure it was just right. After all, I was going to my best friend's wedding, no time for wrinkles, creases, static or anything like that. After finally applying the ceremonial brass buttons to the tux shirt and buttoning up the vest I was out the door, jacket in hand to Mike's to meet up with the rest of the groomsmen for pictures and to catch our ride.

Upon arriving at Mike's I discovered that our tuxes did in fact come with those little pocket squares. I thought it was odd that we weren't getting them. After questioning everyone where they got there's I ran back home and checked a small, inconspicuous bag that hung from the hanger. The pocket square was obstructed by a business card type thing that made me believe it was nothing to concern myself with. So back I raced to have someone fold the square for me. After a few attempts we had it. Well, sort of. The newly declared Mrs. Sergiano was kind enough to refold for me just before the ceremony. It was still early in the morning at this point, noon at the latest so even though we should probably have been throwing back drinks before getting in the limo we couldn't. Instead we snapped a few pics.

After we were all dressed up in our monkey suits (none of us were really excited about it. I mean, we looked nice but those jackets made it really hot) we went outside for what we thought was getting into the limo and heading over to the wedding. No, of course not that'd be too obvious. So instead there were more photos to be taken, this time thought with the whole group, including the groom, who really took his sweet ass time getting dressed. I suppose we could/should have cut him so slack. We didn't.
Anyway, after that was finally over with it was into the limo for the completely non-climactic drive to the reception hall. It was a tad surreal riding in a limo now, dressed in a monkey suit down the same streets I'd been driving on in a t-shirt and shorts since I was 17. Those times it had been to grab some food, or pick up friends or head to the bars. This time, I was going to watch my best friend get married. It was odd to say the least. One thing I will say though, is that it was completely Mike. We're a lot alike and we're very different, and this, this was him. Something simple like this - local and with relatively little production. I'm the over-the-top major blockbuster production type. This stark contrast in our personalities hit me during the ride over and I was glad that we were going where we were going.
We got to the hall and me and the other "lesser groomsmen" were just sort of hanging around by the bar area (which was not open) in front of the room where the ceremony was going to be held. The families were off taking pictures and doing whatever inner circle stuff they do. As guests started to arrive I had an early crack to see who had made it. Jay and Walter, who I hadn't seen in some years (well, I saw Walt at the bachelor party but still), Mike's friend Bobby who I've known for years, his family, our group of friends, and of course my mom and sister. When it was finally time to get the show on the road we groomsmen sprung into action, handing out wedding programs (I'm sure there's a fancier word for it) and yarmulkes (Gentile's pronounce Ya-Ma-Ka) as guests entered. After we had ushered everyone in I got a chance to meet Laurie-Jean, the bridesmaid I would be escorting throughout the course of the evening. See, the rehersal dinner had happened a day or two before I flew in so we had never met. Fortunately, she was really cool and our personalities clicked immediately. Also, I had met her husband during the bachelor party so there was no awkwardness about "man i don't want to look foolish and blow my chances with this girl." By the way, that thought in my head, mixed with some alcohol will always equal a good time. So after deciding to start on the right foot, we had our entrance all worked out and did a couple of trust fall exercises in case one of us tripped and was going down. The plan was for the other to detach their arm from the falling tree and move on as if we had never met. We were the first bridesmaid/groomsmen couple in so we had to set the tone - this wedding will stop for no one.
We made our entrance successfully and the others followed suit, although with the exception of the flower girl and ring bearers, none did it with as much pinash as we did. Then the bride made her entrance and the ceremony was underway. It was a lovely ceremony, because I don't really know how or why you would try to critique something like that. Take my word for it, it was nice. Some of the Hebrew parts I didn't understand and some of the English parts Mike obviously didn't get because his first act as a married man was to head towards the rabbi to thank her rather than to kiss his wife. I think that's another difference between us. At least I hope so, or my first marriage is going to be even shorter than I thought. I rejoined my escort for the evening and we headed out where we got to stand in line and receive thanks from everyone. Now people who know me, know that I hate getting praise or recognition for most things, but especially minor things. I just don't know how to respond to compliments. I mean if you want to thank me for curing cancer I'll find a way to handle it, but thanking me for walking and not falling - eh, it's going to make me uncomfortable to the point of laughter. Fortunately many of the bridesmaid's felt the same way so we were able to share some laughs in between receiving our congratulations and thanks for the wedding guests. After the line that would not end eventually ended we got to follow a photographer guy upstairs and out onto the balcony for more pictures. At this point it was brutal, pretty humid and I was hungry. And knowing that my mom and sister were enjoying a cocktail hour full of food wasn't helping. Eventually a waiter came up and asked for our drink orders while we were posing like the Mod Squad or a very dressed up version of the cast of 21 Jump Street. I asked the kid if they had Mountain Dew, he kinda laughed and I told him to try it with Vodka. He reluctantly told me they didn't but said he'd give it a shot. When he does it'll change his life. It was a shot in the dark that a fancy catering hall would have the single greatest carbonated beverage in the world, so I settled for a Grey Goose and Sprite. When the pictures were finally done we got our crack at the hours d'oeuvres waiting in the bridal suite. My drink came at the same time so I was able to satisfy my need for both food and drink. While we were eating and chatting Mike finally seemed relaxed. I guess he should be, the hard part of the day was over. After a relaxing 15 minutes or so we were informed that we had to leave and get ready to line up for our entrance to the reception.
None of the bridesmaids/groomsmen had anything planned, again because I wasn't at the rehearsal dinner, but Laurie-Jean was game to do something. I really lucked out there. Since we were going first again we had very little time. I shotgunned the rest of my Goose and Sprite as we were getting ready. A little pre-game bouncing (just like before a big beer pong match) and we were ready. We entered doing the presidential wave until we reached the dancefloor. From there we broke into the Temptation sway as we crossed to where we thought we were supposed to go. The spotter had to come grab us and redirect us to where we should have actually landed. As the remaining couples entered Laurie-Jean and I greeted them with the running man as they passed us and took their positions in the ever growing line awaiting the arrival of the bride and groom. Every bride and groom does something different for their intro. Scott and Kristen came out of the floor on a rising platform (awesome), and I was interested/worried about what Mike's entrance would be. Like I said, he's not the theatrical type and honestly I was more concerned about what music he'd be entering with. I'm protective of my best friend and I was deeply worried that he'd be dragged in there in front of friends and family to some stupid pop-song of the week, or cliched wedding or just something not fitting of him. The doors closed and it was time for he and Kelly to make their entrance. The lights went out and the music cut through the silience like a chainsaw. None of us knew, but within a nanosecond we were all happy for him. Enter Sandman pumped through the DJ's system and Mike got to make his entrance like Mariano Rivera coming in, in 9th, in a big game at Yankee Stadium (the old one). It was perfect. I may have shed a tear I was so happy for him.
From there the wedding progressed like they do. A traditional first dance between the bride and groom. As people were able to take their seats I grabbed my mom and sister and we made our way to bar, as a family. It was one of the happiest moments of the night for me. I bought my mom a drink and we sipped while listening to the trio of maid's of honor give their speeches, each requiring us to drink a little bit more than the last. Then we paused as Richie took the Mike. He's the little brother I never needed but have always had. I knew he was a bit worried about what to say so I wanted to be ready in case he needed me or something. His toast was everything it should be - a tad sentimental, a bit funny, no bull and concise. After that it was time for the real fun to start.
Early on, before I had even made it to my third drink, I got my second wish fulfilled. Just like I had at Scott and Kristen's wedding, I picked up on the first few notes of Earth, Wind and Fire's "September" and bolted from my seat to my mom's table. I took her hand and we headed out to the dance floor. It was one of the, if not the first dance of the night and she didn't know it yet, but her son was on his way to become the talk of the town - like he predicted. But none of that matters. I was so excited that this moment was happening. I had first thought of it back in June while starring at my mom through the glass in ICU and at the time it was the only thing I wanted in the world, to share that dance with her. At the time I what I was praying for as getting to do it at my own wedding, but given the indefinite time frame of that occurrence, I was perfectly happy that my mom was up, happy and healthy and with me out on the dance floor. Even if the old bat couldn't stay out there past the song. ;-)
I went back to my table to refresh myself with some vodka-y goodness when the DJ announced that it was Salsa time. Another big moment for me during this wedding. I had found a very helpful instructional salsa video on YouTube and emailed it to all of my gringo friends a couple of weeks before the wedding, declaring that the Caucasian Invasion would take over the dance floor. As menioned, I was consuming more alcohol when the DJ made his announcement and I looked over towards the tables where my friends were sitted, and noticed there was very little stirring taking place. I then inspired them, by proclaiming loundly, "Gringos! Vamanos!" completely with hand gestures. This got them on their feet and soon the flood I had hoped for had hit the floor. Most of us weren't very good, some people had watched the video and learned a little but we didn't care, we had a great time. That's a theme that would continue throughout the night. As the night grew longer, and the alcohol flowed like well the way alcohol usually flows when my friends are involved, the event turned into one of our nights out, just with a lot more friends to share it with. There was me cutting it up on the dancefloor - http://video.ak.facebook.com/video-ak-sf2p/v6808/247/115/554045421589_23047.mp4, and then subsequently teaching Jay how to do the same.
In one of the odder, yet more memorable moments of the wedding, I was talking to my mom near my table, cooling myself down from a recent dancecapade with another Goose and Sprite when the DJ began playing "It's raining men" and knowing that Scott, Jay and the rest of the gang were about to go crazy, I put down my drink, looked my mother in the eyes and said, "mom, I'm sorry but I have to go. They expect this." as I ran off. Well I didn't so much as run off, as I did run directly into the middle of the dance floor and start dancing around like I was flaming all over. I'm not going to lie, it was fun as hell. I may have to check out the Castro some night. Anyway, the gang loved it as we were bouncing around, hands in the air and me and boys (Scott and Jay, no I didn't name my buttocks "the boys" - I'm flat assed) shook it down. From there it only got better or worse, depending on whether or not your my mother. Shortly after that I believe I was again heading off to replenish fluids when I was prevented by another familiar beat. This time the king of pop. And just as I had done at Scott and Kristen's wedding, Billie Jean became my time. This time my mom was around to watch it (she had missed the earlier dance sequence that was caught on video). Unfortunately, the rental tux shoes weren't very smooth and my normally high 70s % moonwalk was reduced to something around a mid 60s. I realized this quickly though and all but abandoned the move, opting for more spins. Plus this time Jay jumped in and that helped to keep it from looking and feeling like a bad copy of Scott and Kristen's wedding.
We ate, and danced and continued drinking. Eventually it was dessert time and we were treated to a Viennese Hour that was so good, that Mike no longer has to apologize to me about my date to the senior prom (his gf at the time's, best friend). It had cookies, cakes, chocolate covered strawberries, zeppoles (fried dough), these little oreo like shooter things but you couldn't shoot them because they were so thick and delicious, fruit for the health conscious (whoever they are) and ice cream. It was literally a culinary explosion of the greatest kind, the kind that after you eat it all you feel bad and want to cry yourself to sleep while eating more of it. Then to top it off there was a dessert beverage station. I wasn't sure what this was and was nervous when Matt rounded up the rest of the bridal party to go over there. Turns out my fears were in my head. This was shots of after dinner liquors - Irish Creame, Amaretto, etc. in small chocolate shot glasses. Or to shorten the name, the greatest idea ever. We toasted, downed our shots and returned to our tables. I then informed my group of friends as to what lie beydond the main table and we returned to do our own round of shots. Fantastic.
After dessert was cleared away we knew it was only a matter of time before the night ended so we made sure to put everything we had into our kick (runner's term). We worked off calories and probably worked in blisters as we kept on dancing the night away. Just near the end of the night, I got my other wish for Mike, when the DJ started playing "Don't Stop Believing". Just about each one of my friends has a signature song or two. This is Mike's and we all know it. He and Kelly had just happened to be near the middle of the dance floor at the time and it worked out perfectly for us, as the whole group, 15-20 strong circled around them to sing and dance with them to Journey's classic. To the parents in attendance, distant relatives, Kelly's side of the wedding, we probably looked pretty odd, but this is how we are. 20 people, in a circle serenading the bride, who's just a small town girl, living in a lonely world, and her husband, a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit. To cap the evening off, we got back together to sign "I had the time of my life" completely with Bobby doing the Dirty Dancing leap into Matt's arms. We party hard, we have great times, and we make memories.

Congratulations again Mike and Kelly, it was pretty spectacular night.

Mike's Bachelor Party or One Hell of a Long Day

I mentioned in an earlier post that Thursdays are really long and painful days for me - getting home around 12:30 - 1am in the morning and then quickly turning around at 7am to make it for my 10am class. A few weeks ago I took Thursday to the extreme.

Not only did I run through my usual routine, but after my 7 - 10pm Storywriting class ended I jumped on the BART (SF's miserable excuse for a subway system) and headed to San Francisco International Airport. By the way, a one way ticket cost $8.10, which is absolutely ridiculous, and the machines don't take credit cards because the whole state is so poor that they can't afford the credit card surcharge. Anyway, I boarded a Virgin America (to be the subject of another post) red-eye to New York.

Fortunately, I was flying with mostly experienced travelers who abided by the rules of the red-eye (namely, shut up and sleep), so I was able to squeeze in a few hours of sleep. I landed at JFK at 7:30am NY time (4:30 Cali time) August 7th. I grabbed breakfast and took my familiar bus ride to Grand Central. I stopped by Zarro's Bakery to pick up a raisin challah loaf for the groom-to-be and one of their famous black and white cookies for my sister's birthday. I took the train to Peekskill where my mom picked me up. Once at home I did some light unpacking and then cranked up the AC and proceeded to crash in my bed for a few hours.

I woke up, showered and headed to the mall to pick up my tux for the wedding on Sunday. On my way home I grabbed a slice of pizza, my usual pre-drinking night meal, however my stomach which had been bothering me most of the week didn't cooperate so I ended up boarding the party bus with little more than some crackers and a bottle of Vitamin Water Revive in my stomach.

On the way down I passed up pre-gaming with the rest of the guys, hoping that the stay of execution would get my stomach back to normal. We talked, failed to figure out how to get the bus pumping with party tunes and had the Yankee pre-game as our background noise. It was a rather appropriate way to start out Mike's bachelor party.

We made good time getting down to the city but ran into traffic as we tried to cut across 33rd street. We jumped out of the bus around 8th avenue and walked to the bar, which was between 5th and 6th. It'd probably be really helpful to give the name, but I can't remember it at this point. Anyway, we had a private room rented out, that's about all we knew. When we got there Mike's dad, uncle's, cousin's husband Kevin (who set us up with this place) and Brandon where there. Our group slowly increased and they showed us to our space.

Down the stairs and a few turns later we were in, one of those places you'd see in a Kettle One commercial. Flat screen TVs on the wall, 2 pool tables with custom red felt, leather couches and plenty of space. The manager introduced us to our waitress, who would be bringing us our drinks before taking our first round orders. Myself and a few others opted for some beers (they had a great selection) and were amazed when the manager and waitress arrived with buckets, ice and a few 6 and 12 packs of our selections. 4 minutes into the party we knew this was going to be a pretty good night.

I popped the top on my first Newcastle and slowly started sipping it, worried about how my stomach would react. I figured if things started going south I could make it through the night nursing 3 or 4. Then the food came out. Our first set - a platter of pigs in the blanket and a platter of buffalo wings. Resisting would be torture, and I don't do torture. I picked myself up a pig in the blanket and popped it in my mouth hoping for the best. It was good. I walked around and gave it a few minutes to test out my stomach. It seemed like it was all clear so I went back and took a serving - around 3 and just to really test myself, a handful of chicken wings. Pigs, wings and beer in hand I grabbed a pool cue and got my game on. I'm not a great, or even good pool player at this point. I'd like to be and plan to learn how to actually be good at some point in my life. At least for now though, I look good doing it. In between shots I managed to polish off my hors d'oeuvres and my drink. Everything seemed good and so I declared myself back at 100%. In addition to the amazing food which kept coming - sliders, potato skins, chicken fingers, our stockpile of drinks, and the TVs (showing the Yankee game) we had music provided by Richie's iPod. Turned out to be one of the best parts of the night. Richie and I have very similar musical tastes. In addition to his man love for Tom Petty, we were treated to some Journey (Mike's favorite), Asia's "Heat of the Moment" and out of nowhere - the entrance music of one "The Heartbreak Kid", Shawn Michaels. Under appreciated by most people at the party, Richie, his cousins Matt and Jay, myself and uncle Sheldon were loving it to no end. We kept eating and drinking, shooting pool, catching up, meeting new people and all the things you'd expect from 20+ guys with their own separate all you can drink bar. It was great.

Once our exclusive rights to the room ended we poured out and began our walk down 33rd to Rick's Caberet. On the way we past the shining beacon of all things New York, the blue and yellow umbrella of a street vendor. I quickly ordered my first pretzel and continued walking. Outside of Rick's I struck up a conversation with the bouncer while I finished my pretzel. We discussed the phony looking-ness of the California driver's license and how you'd expect more from that state. For those of you who are native Californians, do a google image search for the New York driver's license - it's got anti-fraud measure up the arse. Anyway, according to the bouncer apparently Texas now has the fakest looking I.D.s. He said that each letter is actually a different color. I asked if it was designed by a high school girl and he laughed. I finished my pretzel and went inside. (Obviously there will be no pictures from this portion of the night).

As you know, there is a sanctity to the bachelor party, and I'm not going to violate that. All I will say is that Rick's Caberet is by far the nicest of all the strip clubs I've ever stepped foot in. I still don't like strip clubs or strippers but this place made you feel less dirty. Plus, the girls were really professional - no just jumping on you as soon as you walked in. You had to make eye contact or show some sort of interest. Which was great because it meant that I didn't have to pretend (emphasis on pretend) that I'm gay.

The party started emptying out around 2am and as we headed back towards the bus I stopped at another cart. Got myself a 2am dirty water dog and another pretzel. Now this guy, he knew his shit. He was also a purveyor of ke-bobs so he had a small open flame. After coating my pretzel in salt, he placed it over the flame which has the effect of letting the salt soak in as well as making the pretzel firm so that it crunches when you bite into it. Unfortunately I didn't take my first bite until I was on the bus or I would have gladly spent $10 on pretzels.

The ride back was fairly tame, just about everyone other than myself passed out. All in all, a great night. Good friends, good food, good drinking and great tunes. Plus, I knew I could finally sleep in the next day.

It's about time

I finally got my hands on a bottle of Mountain Dew Throwback. I searched all over the South Bay back in California and couldn't find anything. However, I just ran out for a few slices of pizza and spotted a row of bottles in the pizzeria. I excitedly grabbed one and rushed home to try it. I mean, c'mon, pizza and Mountain Dew is a top combination.

First off, the most appealing thing about Mountain Dew Throwback is the design of the logo. It's much nicer than the new modern crap they've started sticking on the bottles and cans. And now for the hilariousness that is me trying to describe and critique food. Anyway, as for the taste - Throwback is sweeter (as you might expect), which cuts down on that tart/bitter kick you get when it hits the back of your mouth. Some people may welcome it, while I found myself missing that familiar tingle. To it's credit though, I will say that Throwback feels smoother when it goes down your throat, like a well brewed beer. Also, I would say that a sip of Throwback is self-contained satisfaction, meaning each drop gives you the taste and feeling that you want. Typically I guzzle down 8-15ozs of the regular Dew before I feel satisfied. I think ideally I'd like both versions to remain as options. While I'd likely drink the regular Dew more frequently, it'd be nice to have some Throwback as a break every now and again.

I poured a little into a glass and asked my mom to try it. In a glass Throwback looks lighter in color and slightly more natural, compared to the nearly nuclear look of regular Dew. My mom took a sip and immediately exclaimed "that's retro" and dove into the story of how when she was pregnant the nurses told her not to drink coffee, and then someone asked if she had tried this new thing called "Mountain Dew". Misunderstanding the context my mom thought Mountain Dew had no caffeine in it and replaced her frequent coffee drinking with the Dew, so as to not damage her unborn son. So I may not have been born in a cross-fire hurricane, or under a bad sign, but I was born with Dew in my veins.

It's safe to say that it's worked out well for all of us.

Seattle, Day 2

So Friday morning Mike and I woke up and needed to entertain ourselves while Matt was at work. After getting dressed we headed out to explore Seattle without a clue. I had packed my G1 holiday gift from Google last year, and figured this would be a perfect time to try out those find local things apps I had downloaded.

Before actively looking for breakfast we headed over to the famous Pike Place Market to watch some guys throw fish and just generally check it out. It was really cool and seeing all that fish made me really hungry, even at 10:30-11am. After seeing what we thought was all there was (in actuality we saw maybe 1/7th of the market) we started wandering around looking for a place interesting enough to eat. It was at this point that I decided to try out the G1 and not only get us an idea of where to eat, but also directions on how to get there. However, what I failed to take into account is that in order for it to work I needed to be connected via wi-fi, which, while not typically a problem in the silicon valley is an issue in basically every other city. So it was a two-fer: technology and holiday gift fail.

Eventually we settled on a place called Dome Burger in Seattle's Pioneer Square (the historic district). We grab a quick meal and decided to head over and check out the Space Needle, another of Seattle's famous attractions. The walk wasn't bad, especially for two kids who are fairly used to trekking around Manhattan. We walked and talked, caught up since the time difference typically prevents me from staying in constant communicado with my friends back East. At some point we must have gotten on the topic of food and I lamented, as you would expect, about the lack of pizza on the west coast. We discussed what these places meant when they referred to themselves as "New York style" and I commented that the concept was lost on me because not only do they not taste like actual New York pizza but they charge ludicrious prices per slice, sometimes upwards of $3. This caught the attention of a kid in a bowler hat close by who mentioned that he was originally from New York and shared my view. He introduced himself as "The Tramp" and pointed out his friends Blood-something or other and by that point I had completely tuned out when he named his third compadre. I was too busy wondering why his name would be "The Tramp". Your name can't start with "The". Why not be Tramp or Tommy The Tramp. That would have been more respectable. Anyway, he mentioned that he and his friends were also headed towards the Space Needle for what he described as a massive hippie fest. Oh good. Fortunately a few blocks later they split off in an off direction towards one side of the needle and Mike and I headed towards the needle proper.

After waiting in line Mike and I bought our tickets and went up to the top. Here's a few pictures I took of Seattle from the top of the Space Needle.
After taking our share of photos and learning a bit of history thanks to the interactive maps on the inside we headed down to the gift shop where I did a mitzvah. I stopped Mike from buying an over priced mug in the gift shop, not because he's getting married and shouldn't buy an over priced gift shop novelty, but because it was perhaps the uggliest mug in the history of the universe. Let me see if I can describe it. Sort of an oblong shape, and the color scheme was a bit of black but mostly over powered by a grayish green color that should give anyone a knee jerk reaction nearing projectile vomit.
Anyway the gift shop wasn't all bad. I was really excited when I saw this because a friend had recently posted a blog entry about Lego releasing sets based on famous architectural pieces and I thought that was really interesting and long overdue.
Shortly after exiting the Space Needle's gift shop we got a call from Matt that they had a keg in their office and we should swing by for a few drinks. Never one to turn down a free beer, not to mention getting a chance to check out an actual ad agency from the inside beyond what you get to see when you interview, we started making our way over.
When we got there we were created by Matt and some of his co-workers. They showed us up to the Publicis offices and pointed us towards the keg. Walking down the halls was exciting as some of the agencies was hanging on display. Additionally, they had some of the familiar perks I had at Google, namely ping pong and a pool table. Unfortunately I'm as good as I used to be at ping pong and lost two straight games to Mike. However, I did manage to make some difficult shots in pool which made me feel slightly better about my chances for one day learning how to actually play the game. After filling our cups Matt showed us his office before we adjourned to the deck to enjoy our drinks in the sun and take in their great view (seen below). Anyway that's about it for the story, the rest of the night just involved prolonged drinking at various bars throughout Seattle, which was fun, but nothing much to talk about.

Made from the best stuff on Earth

I may love Snapple Iced Tea almost as much as Mountain Dew.

This afternoon/evening, I headed out to The Bay Fish and Chips (a great little place I found with the help of Yelp) to pick up some grub. I ordered the clams and chips and tacked on an additional 2 shrimp (everyone out here calls them prawns and I don't get why). I hurried home, grabbed a cold Snapple out of the fridge and within seconds was in heaven.

Maybe it tastes so good because I don't drink it as often as Dew. Maybe it's actually the perfect hot weather beverage. And it goes great with fried foods. Back in New York I'd have it with fried chicken while watching Barbershop or Barry Gordie's The Last Dragon or my favorite - I'm Gonna Git You Sucka.

Whatever it is, my first sip is always incredible.

Up All Night, Sleep All Day

There's a good chance you don't remember this 80s gem from the band Slaughter and honestly until tonight I hadn't really given it much thought either. However, when I look around at 1:30 in the morning and realize that I'm back in an empty apartment after spending an evening out with friends at a pretty cool bar (classic dive with free nuts) I can't help but think that this optimizes how we (myself and the WC crew) spent our summers. We'd close down bars, in our town, in your town, in some town we'd never heard of before, hit up one of our fantastic 24 hour dinners (usually Mohegan) sleep in and do it all over again the next night.

I miss that. Out here there aren't a plethora of dinners, and there are very few places open past midnight. But I guess the biggest difference is the feeling. Out here, I'm alone, I don't know what's what or how things function. Back home, sure it's cocky to say, but we had a good handle on the scene. We knew where to go, which places were best and we were quasi celebrities wherever we went. Even in NYC, we could show up at a bar and feel like we were the kings of the place. Each one of us had spent our formative years with at least 2 others in the group, and we're as close as family. Out here, it's so different. I'm lost, confused, unsure of myself and at home before the bars close.

I'm not really sure where this is going, I suppose all I mean to say is that tonight I realized "I just miss my friend(s)" (Shawshank Redemption). Can't wait to see you all again in Vegas and hope you guys know I much I miss you.

Bob's Guide to Choosing a Bar

A friend recently said, "I don't know anything about bars" in the midst of us deciding on a location for future plans. Seeing as how I've drink, drank and gotten drunk in a decent number of establishments I decided that I would impart my thoughts and wisdom on the matter, with this, my primer to bars.

1) Acceptable Female/Male ratio - This is el numero uno on the list of important things. The ratio must be greater than 1:1 (too coupley), and my preference is typically for a minimal 1.8:1 ratio, which gives the bar a more noticeable "mixed" feeling to it.
The reasoning being the higher ratio is I find that while guys may go out in smaller groups (2-3) while girls typically prefer larger groups (4+, some of which are mixed company). The inherent "largerness" of girl groups cuts down on the number of unique groups and makes something like a 1.5:1 ratio feel indistinguishable from a 1:1 or worse ratio.
A word of caution however. You want to avoid any location where the ratio swings beyond 4:1. While it may seem like a paradise let's break down the numbers. That means in addition to you, and her, she's got 3 friends on average. If you're operating without a net, maybe you can overcome this but the majority of us work in tandem with a wingman. So, let's add him to the equation. Now you and your buddy have approximately 6 other girls to contend with, appeal to, appease and just generally deal with. Factor in other variables and very quickly paradise is lost.
So stick with a more manageable ratio.

2) Beer (drink) selection - Whether beer or overall drink selection is more important depends on the make-up of the group you are going out with. If it's just you and a bunch of guys watching a game, you need only concern yourself with the available beer selection. If that's the case your decision should focus on the establishment with the most beers available, weighted against the other guidelines to follow. Note: Guys going to a bar to watch a game and drink wine should never have their preferences considered. Rather they should be mocked at frequently and harshly.
Now if you are going out in mixed company, you'll likely have to make some concessions, i.e. - you may not be able to convince everyone that they should follow your lead and attempt to drink 60 beers from around the world. More "upscale" places probably have a website where they like to tout their libation selection but it's generally to be at best the same as you'd find at the local dive. This is where knowing your groups drink preferences can come in handy as bartenders, and by extension, drink strength and correctness vary by location. You can use knowledge of who makes the best Margarita as a handy bargaining chip to sway votes to a bar that has your preferred beer on tap.

3) Drink prices - Just as almost every other decision in life, money is going to come into play. What you are looking for are places with drinker friendly deals and specials on things you and your group enjoy. Don't just go for cheap drinks (or at least go to a place specifically for the cheap drinks towards the end of the night). Here's where your sense of value will come into play. Say Bar 1 is offering $2 Miller Lite bottles from 10-12pm while Bar 2 is offering $3.50 well drinks. All things being equal between the two bars you have to ask yourself, "is it work $1.50 to have to drink Miller Lite?" Provided that the well drinks at Bar 2 aren't watered down beyond belief, your choice should be bar 2, and if in mixed company or with a guy who loves "girlie" drinks it's not even a question. Let him order what he wants, you can make fun of him while he's drinking it.
Finally and I think this needs to be said, there's an under priced beer at just about every bar. With so many varieties available, so many tastes, bars and distributors have to group beers into categories and price based on that, rather than the individual product. Factor in simple economics (supply and demand) and you get an even more perverse pricing system which can work to your benefit. Avoid over priced imports that frat boys drink to look good or show off trust fund money. The majority of them have no sense of taste, which is why you'll often find them with a Heineken or Corona in their hands. Bars know and exploit this lack of taste and will typically charge more for these drinks than a superior ale (Newcastle comes to mind) or lager (Sam Adams). Drink the good stuff that's undervalued and when you hit a cash flow shortage then switch over to Bud and Coors or Miller (if you're desperate). By that time it'll be too late in the night for anyone to notice or care.

4) Reason to go/Gimmick - Something has to get you in the door. Whether it's the largest selection of beers in a 50 mile radius, it's 2 blocks from your place, 10 cent wings, a mechanical gorilla that dispenses peanuts, a great place to see a local band, the lap of luxury, where the beautiful people go, or just where everyone knows your name - there needs to be a reason to go. Different gimmicks will appeal at different times, in different situations so it is a wise move to stay current on unique factors for each place. You don't want to show up at the door wearing a sweater vest and a pair of khakis with a group of uptight accountants to find that your chosen destination is the area's biggest Death/Thrash/Speed and Black Metal venue. Or maybe you do like having the crap kicked out of you, I don't know.

5) Ambiance/Music - Once you're there, you need a reason to stay. Different bars serve different clientele with different needs. If you're going to watch a game, you need big tvs, cheap beer and an open kitchen cranking out burgers, fries, buffalo wings and other snacks. If you're celebrating an engagement (as long as you're in favor of it) or getting into medical school, you'll want something with a few more bells and whistles. I'm not going to go step by step on what ambiance goes with each situation but do put some thought into it early. If you want to have a conversation with friends and catch up - stay lo key so you can hear them. If you're just out to look good, go somewhere loud and bright so that no one can hear the drunken ramblings that come out of your mouth but everyone can get a good look at what your momma gave ya.
Nothing defines what an establishment is more than the music they play. If the music's not for you, avoid going. If you like to dance find a place that plays hip-hop or something created by electronic bells and slide kazoos that someone mistakenly tried to pass off as music. If you want to hang out with buddies and just drink, a jukebox is all you need.

6) How to get home - Always something you should at least put a cursory thought into. If you live in New York City, you know you have the best public transportation system in the country to assist you (just make sure to write those train letters down). Everyone else, whether it's a DD, walking, cabs, or a less efficient public transit system just make sure you have an idea of how to get home safely. Drinking and driving is inexcusable and beyond stupid but I'll save those thoughts for another post.

There you have it, Bob's Guide to Choosing a Bar. Go out and have fun. I'd say "stay thirsty my friends" because it's a great line but the Dos Equis people would sue the crap out of me.