The parking lot of doom claimed another victim about 20 minutes ago. Astonishingly enough, while this feat of driving prowess was accomplished by one of my building's many paralegals... it wasn't even the same paralegal who backed into me last December.
(To answer your question: Yes, my entire office stood at my window and waved a happy "Good job!' to her after we heard the crash and came running over to look.)
Two of the friends I visited down in DC the other weekend were Mr and MrsAngus, who recently discovered that sometime this fall they would be supplementing their 2ish BabyAngus with - take a deep breath - twins.
As several of you know, I've long felt that it's not just my divine right but, in fact, my obligation to greet the news of "I've been knocked up/I knocked my wife up!" with a response of "Congratulations! I hereby curse you with twins." But this is the first time it's ever worked. And I have to admit: I spent almost our entire time together cackling evilly at the Anguses. (Which I'm now realizing, as a pseudonym, makes them sound like beef. Oh, well. Good thing they're not vegetarians.)
They kept asking me the nervous questions of expectant parents: How big did TheWife get before she delivered? (Answer: Pretty fuckin' huge, dude.) How long did it take her to recover? (Answer: I'll let you know when it happens.) How did you get sleep? (Answer: We slept in shifts, except that I decided that I was expendable and TheWife wasn't, so I basically spent the first several months living - and working full-time - on about 2 hours of sleep a night. By the end, my coworkers were taking bets on when I would fall over and die. (That's not a joke, btw.)) How screwed are we? (Answer: Pretty screwed. Congratulations!)
All of which sent me to my iPhoto archives after I returned home. TheWife wandered in, and together we looked through shots of her during her pregnancy, and marveled at how we'd forgotten that once she was a subcontinent. We poured through volumes of twinfant shots, and I was forced to admit - when looking at them as newborns - that I could no longer tell, at that stage, which was which. (Which is no different from the way it was at the time. Thank god for hospital bracelets, is all I can say.) We looked at lots of pictures of a very young Rabbit screaming, and recalled how for at least the first nine months we could only describe her personality as "pretty pissed off." We reminisced, realized just how much of a horrifying blur that first year was, and savored what terrific little girls the twins have since become. And we talked about all that our dear friends the Anguses would experience in the years to come.
At the end, sitting there in the dark, bathed in the soft electric glow of the computer screen, we shared a special moment in which our eyes met - full of love, and shared experience, and understanding - and said as one: "Thank god it's not us."
Graphic design is an art form. And sometimes, it goes terribly, terribly wrong.
(The full story is here, in case you're curious.)
TheWife turned 30something earlier this week. We celebrated with a festival of steak and red wine - as is her inclination - as well as a shower of modest gifts, including a couple of recommendations from imaginary friends (who'd better be right if they know what's good for them).
Anyhow. In recognition of her advancing years... I present 30something reasons to rejoice in TheWife.
1. I don't have a single male friend who doesn't think that I married up.
2. She is totally The Man at her job.
3. Two weeks ago, I had to explain to her what a MILF is.
4. She enjoys watching The Biggest Loser while eating ice cream. (The irony makes the coffee almond fudge that much sweeter, apparently.)
5. When she was a child, her parents used to pull her out of school to go mining. Seriously.
6. Her first name doesn't fit her at all. It's an antiquated name -- the kind you'd associate with a great aunt or a lunch lady.
7. Which means that when people hear her name, they have a mental image that's completely blown out of the water the first time they meet her.
8. Which is what happened to me.
9. Want to reduce her to helpless tears? Show her somebody walking into a plate glass door, or unexpectedly tripping over their own feet. She's a sucker for slapstick.
10. She has an unerring gift in that she always gravitates toward the most expensive item in any store. It doesn't matter if no prices are posted -- she'll find and declare lovely the subtle crown jewel of their wares. She says it's an indication of good taste; I prefer to think that she's possessed by malevolent spirits.
11. When she planned our wedding - and make no mistake, she planned just about all of it herself - she decided that dancing wasn't important. Hence: we had a string quartet. Which turned our reception into less of a goofy party and more into a low-key, enjoyable afternoon with friends and family. And blueberry beer.
12. The first time I told her I loved her, it was because I misheard something she said and mistakenly thought she'd just said that she loved me. (Oops.)
13. Fortunately, it turned out that she did.
14. We got engaged on top of a mountain. We hiked up, and after we summited we spent a few minutes looking out over the forest and water. Then I told her that I'd brought along a little something special for her, and to grab it out of the front pocket of my backpack. She reached in and pulled out a plastic baggie. "Gummy bears! Good call," she said. "Uh... that's not what I meant. Try again." She so reached in again, and this time pulled out a small box. Which had a ring inside.
15. She doesn't mind that I refer to this as "the time I propositioned her."
16. Back in olden times - before TheWife was even TheGirlfriend - I dragged a friend (in fact, one of the friends I'll be seeing in DC this weekend) to enjoy her flautist skillz in action. My friend and I spent the entire concert talking about TheGirlWhoWouldBecomeTheGirlfriend and strategies that I might enact to land her like a marlin. After the concert, she made her way back into the audience, and I got all excited thinking she was coming to see me. Nope: it turned out the white-haired old dude who had been sitting in the row in front of us the entire time was... wait for it... her father.
Yup. I really am that smooth.
17. She's really, honestly, truly excited that her big birthday gift is two sweet tickets to a Sox matinee game next month (as well as the accompanying day of hooky from work and lunch somewhere in the Back Bay). And I'm really, honestly, truly grateful that I've got a girl who's capable of appreciating that.
18. You know how some women get all "I'm aglow with new life and overflowing with love" when pregnant? Not TheWife. She wasn't miserable... she just didn't enjoy the whole pregnancy thing. Which I can totally respect.
19. Speaking of which: she rocked her way through not one but two - count 'em, two - rounds of modified bedrest while knocked up. In (relative) good humor.
(Thank you, Netflix.)
20. . I married a brunette. Then she started getting kind of... stripey. Then she got blonde. Then she got really blonde. Then I reminded her that I married a brunette. Now, a year and a half later, she's back in (brownish) black.
21. When we decided to move to west coast, she wanted to move to San Francisco; I wanted Seattle or Portland.
She won.
22. When, four years later, I wanted to move back to Boston... she let me win.
23. When we first moved to San Francisco - during the depths of the first Bush's recession - I struggled to find work. I ended up temping for more than a year before I found a full-time job. She was never less than completely supportive.
24. This was somewhat facilitated by the fact that when we first moved to San Francisco, she - at age 24 - was given the opportunity to open a new SF office by her Boston employer, who very quickly recognized her superstar qualities. She spent a year alone in an office suite, handling clients and building business, and eventually planted a stake in the ground for what is now the huge SF office of a huge national communications agency.
25. She left for the corporate side a couple of years later. Where she continued to rise and rise. I honestly don't understand half of what she's talking about when she talks about her job... but it's clear that she is terrifyingly good at it.
26. She looks great in a black dress.
27. She also looks great in a fleece vest and jeans. (Yes, we live in New England.)
28. She finds a sense of humor attractive.
29. She's kind to children and small animals, whether they deserve it or not. 
30. Of all the wedding gifts we received, I think her favorite came from my best man (whom I'm staying with in DC this weekend), who gave us 5th row tickets to a Jazz/Celtics game. Given that this was in '99, that meant my best man's gift was the opportunity for my wife to spend close to 3 hours ogling Karl Malone up close.
31. I still can't believe she went out with me in the first place.
32. She looks prettier without makeup.
33. She sleeps with her head under her pillow.
34. Her car has a 6-CD changer, but she tends to focus on one thing that she loves -- listening to it over and over and over again. Right now, she's beating this into the ground.
35. I just realized that next week marks 15 years since we first starting being an "us."
36. That first night involved a moonlit drive, a beautiful, placid lake, and the sudden appearance of a lot of dead fish.
37. I was a lucky bastard to be with her then. And I'm a lucky bastard to be with her now.
That's right: grilling season's back with a vengeance, bitches. It's time once more to wax grillosophic, and we'll kick off this season with one of the best damned meat-n-potatoes combinations you'll ever have. Courtesy of the most grilliant man on the planet - Jamie Purviance - this one rocked TheWife's world last weekend, and features what is without question the best damned steak sauce I've ever enjoyed...
BODACIOUS STEAKS WITH SEXY BBQ SAUCE & GARLIC-ROASTED POTATOES ON ROSEMARY SKEWERS
Ingredients
STEAK
* 1 Steak/person (the quality of your steaks is paramount here... I used some fantastic sirloins, but good ribeyes or porterhouse would also be fine)
* Vegetable Oil
* Kosher Salt & Fresh-Ground Pepper
SAUCE
* 1/2 Cup Red Wine (oh, yes -- you'd better open a nice bottle of red for this meal. Just be prepared to sacrifice 1/2 cup to the sauce.)
* 1/2 Cup Ketchup
* 1/4 Cup Dark Molasses
* 1 TB Dijon Mustard (I used Stonewall Kitchen's Bourbon Molasses Mustard)
* 1 TB Worcestershire
* 2 TB Red Wine Vinegar
* 1/2 Tsp Chili Powder
* 1/2 Tsp Kosher Salt
* 1/4 Tsp Curry Powder
* 1/4 Tsp Ground Cumin
SPUDS
* 1 lb Small Red Potatoes
* 1+ TB Minced Garlic
* 1/2 Cup Extra Virgin Olive Oil
* 6 Sturdy Rosemary Branches
* 1/3 Cup Balsamic Vinegar
* Kosher Salt & Fresh-Ground Pepper
Directions
1. Do the sauce before anything else. Combine all sauce ingredients with 1/2 Cup of water in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Mix well and cook uncovered, stirring occasionally, until it boils down to about 2/3 cup of sauce. This should take about 1/2 hour. Then let it cool to room temperature.
2. Preheat your grill while you're letting the sauce boil down.
3. Cut the potatoes in half and place in a medium bowl. Add 2 TB of olive oil and the minced garlic. Season with salt & pepper to taste.
4. Strip most of the rosemary leaves off the branches, leaving some leaves on near the thinner end (presuming one end is actually thinner than the other). Dice the rosemary until you've got about 2 TB worth, then add them to the potatoes.
5. Toss the potatoes so they're thoroughly covered with oil, garlic and rosemary. (You'll probably have to use your hands.) Then take a rosemary branch and use it as a skewer for the potatoes... you can usually fit 2 potato-halves on each one. Make sure to leave a little room between the halves.
6. When the skewers are ready and your grill is pre-heated, drop the heat to medium-high and then roast the skewers. This should take about 1/2 hour. Be sure to turn them every five minutes or so, to prevent charring. You'll know they're done because the skins will be brown and crisp.
7. Take your steaks, brush on a little vegetable oil, then season all sides with salt & pepper to taste. When you estimate the potatoes have about 15-20 minutes left, throw the steaks on the grill. Flip 'em once (at about 5-6 minutes)... cook to your preference, then pull 'em off.
8. Remember the balsamic vinegar from the potatoes? No, I didn't forget about it. Take a small saucepan (open a window, while you're at it... trust me) and - over high heat - boil the vinegar until it's reduced to about 2 TB of syrupy glaze. Then take a small plate and pour a little olive oil onto it. Then sprinkle it with salt & pepper, then pour the vinegar syrup over the top.
9. Presuming that you've pulled the steak and potatoes off by this point, take your potato skewers and roll them in the balsamic/oil mix. Then put your steaks on plates, push the potatoes off the skewers and onto the plates next to them, pour your sexy sauce (their name, btw -- not mine) into some kind of serving bowl...
10. Steaks. Delicious potatoes. Unbelievable sauce. Red wine. Warm weather. Blossoming flowers. Springtime. Bliss.
From a conversation this morning with a friend who will go unnamed, in which he recounted a recent and pretty much inexplicable hot steak in which he was stalked and taken by a forty-something cougar last Friday night, hooked up with a gorgeous Indian woman on Sunday night, and tomorrow is being visited by another woman who's basically flying 3000 miles for a booty call:
"It's like you're playing musical chairs, and you're the chair."
Alright. I'm going to give this another shot. And if Safari crashes again and I lose this post before it goes live, I swear to you: this fucking computer is going out the window. For the sake of whoever owns the little silver Forester in the parking lot below, let's hope that doesn't happen.
So.
12 songs for 12 months:
JANUARY
January's Little Joke -- Trashcan Sinatras
It's hard to believe it's been 18 years since the Trash Can Sinatras released their wonderful debut album Cake -- and honestly, I can think of few albums that have held up nearly as well. This song captures their appeal in a neat 4:48... chiming guitars, heavenly harmonies, playful lyrics ("I knew what argue meant/and I knew what punish meant/and I knew what embarrass meant/but I never found out what achieve meant"), and a touch of melancholy underlying music that can otherwise be described only as a pure expression of joy.
FEBRUARY
Sometimes -- My Bloody Valentine
I had to cheat here, as my iPod is bereft of songs with the word "February" in them. That being said, is there ever a bad reason to listen to a little My Bloody Valentine? As I've noted before, the first time I ever heard Loveless I thought my stereo was melting. I love that.
MARCH
March of the Chogokin -- Ee
D'ja ever wonder what happened to Sooyoung Park from Seam? I did. The Pace is Glacial and Are You Driving Me Crazy? are two longtime slowcore favorites of mine, and after waiting years for something new to pop up under that band name, I finally googled Mr. Park. The answer: he moved to San Francisco and joined Ee just in time for their big hit smash album For 100 We Try Harder. The vaguely Avis-esque title is appropriate, as the band comes off as something of a second-tier follow-up to Seam. This particular song isn't the best representation of their sound, as it's a 7:41 instrumental (and not a terribly interesting one at that), but if you're a Seam fan... it's worth a coupla bucks to hunt down a cheap used copy of the album. (Avoid their first album Ramadan, btw -- which is 100% Sooyoung-free, and sucks more than a little.)
APRIL
April 5th -- Talk Talk
This song, taken from The Colour of Spring, captures a band in transition. There are still elements of the Talk Talk most people recognize - in particular, the fragile, reedy vocals of Mark Hollis you know and love from "It's My Life" and "Life's What You Make It" - but you also begin to see glimmers of what was to come on their genre-defying follow-ups, Spirit of Eden and Laughing Stock: a profound sense of atmospherics, an almost jazz-like (or Van Morrison circa Astral Weeks-like) willingness to experiment with song structure, unexpected juxtapositions of unexpected instruments, the trademark organ of frequent collaborator (and frequent Catherine Wheel guy) Tim Friese-Greene... in short, the birth of something truly new.
Which is appropriate for springtime.
MAY
Sluttering (May 4th) -- Jawbreaker
I already said pretty much everything I wanted to say about Jawbreaker and their tremendous swan song Dear You, but that doesn't make this song - a caustically funny diatribe against the girl who chose someone else - any less fun an exercise in tuneful post-punk bitterness.
JUNE
A Death in June -- Stephenhero
D'ja ever wonder what happened to Patrick Fitzgerald, the phenomenally talented singer and lyricist from beloved 90s shoegazers Kitchens of Distinction? The answer is a number of things, but most recently he assumed the nom du band Stephenhero (a Joycean homage) and released several albums, culminating in last year's wonderful 57 Stars of the Air Almanac. This brief piano ballad gives you a taste, but if you were ever a fan of KOD's remarkable sound, imagine it with piano replacing Julian Swales' soaring wall-of-guitars... and then hunt down a copy of the album for yourself.
JULY
1000 Julys -- Third Eye Blind
A guilty pleasure confession: I love - and allow me to bold and capitalize that to suggest added emphasis, LOVE - Third Eye Blind's second album, Blue. Yeah, yeah, I know -- they basically came up with one guitar riff and then repeated it across every other song they ever recorded (including this one), but what can I say? It works for me. There's something about this album that feels like summer to me... something energized and buoyant that makes me think of driving somewhere - anywhere - with the windows open and the sun shining down, hot and brilliant and blinding with possibility.
AUGUST
Light in August -- Early Day Miners
Early Day Miners are one of the best bands you've never heard of. From their 2002 debut Let Us Garlands Bring - featuring this song, apparently not inspired by the Faulkner novel of the same name - to 2006's wonderful Offshore, they've created a remarkable blend of atmospherics, whispered but thoughtful lyrics ("The light in august hides/the distance in our lives"), and slow-building dynamics to create something pretty remarkable. Well worth seeking out.
SEPTEMBER
September Gurls -- Big Star
Yeah, if you're an indie music buff this is probably pretty obvious. So shoot me. In any case... a great song.
OCTOBER
3rd of October -- Matthew Ryan
Ha! You thought I was gonna be obvious here, too, didn't you? Suckers. Yes, I know and love that U2 song/album as much as you do, but there was no way I was gonna pass up what may be my favorite Matthew Ryan song for my October entry. And yes, I realize that some of you have expressed skepticism about Ryan in the past, but if something this anthemic doesn't move you... well, you probably wouldn't have been happy with U2, either.
NOVEMBER
November/December -- The Brother Kite
Yeah, I'm not giving you a direct link to this song, if only because it's a 0:34 instrumental that largely serves as a segue to their insanely catchy Get On, Me. Instead, I'll just take this opportunity to once again implore you - for the love of God - to find a little room for The Brother Kite in your life. You'll be a happier and better person for it, I promise you.
DECEMBER
Saviours of Jazz Ballet (Fear Me, December) -- Mew
I have absolutely no idea what this song - or this album, for that matter - is about. "Fearless heroes of kick and spin?" Uh... yeah. But honestly, it doesn't matter. This album - the equally strangely titled ...And The Glass Handed Kites - somehow manages to overcome what is without question the worst cover of any album released on either side of the Atlantic since (at least) the 1970s (no, I won't post it... you'll have to follow the link to see) It's... well, it's like nothing else I've ever heard. I think I love it, and I think you'll love it too. Plus, they're Swedes! Just like ABBA! And Ingmar Bergman! That's it exactly: they're the post-rock equivalent of ABBA-meets-Ingmar Bergman. If there's a surer formula for commercial success, I can't imagine what it might be.
(Please join me in praying - for the sake of my sanity, this computer and the Subaru awaiting below - that this posts successfully.)
That's the sound of my head exploding, as a result of 2.5 hours of me putting together a music post (yeah, like you were all excited about that) and then my Safari freezing and, as a result, me losing the entire freaking thing.
If you'll excuse me, I have to go put my fist through a wall.
Scene: a Thursday morning at Castle TwoBusy, where TheWife is attempting to fill out a medical form in preparation for the twins' first visit to the dentist next week.
TheWife: "They're asking about allergies. What's Rabbit allergic to?"
TwoBusy: "Penicillin, and pretty much the whole family of related antibiotics."
TheWife: "How do you spell penicillin?"
TwoBusy: "P-E-N-I-S."
TheWife: (scribbling away, waiting for the next letter, then figuring out what she just did.) "You realize that I just wrote that on the form."
TwoBusy: "I'm so glad I married you for your looks."
TheWife: "That's great. I'm sure the dentist's office is going to be thrilled with this."
TwoBusy: "I'll make sure you're the one who hands it over to the staff."
TheWife: "I still don't know how to spell it."
TwoBusy: (grabbing the paperwork, crossing out TheWife's illegible handwriting and jotting down the word w/proper spelling) "It's not like it'd be the worst thing in the world if we found out in another ten or twelve years that she was allergic to penis."
TheWife: (looking pointedly at the jackass she married) "Tell me about it."
Matthew Ryan: Matthew Ryan Vs. Silver State
I'm mighty pleased with this. It's easily Ryan's most consistently strong album, with his uniformly strong writing and characteristic raspy, strangled vocals buoyed by the support of a strong and capable band. And the songs themselves are as diverse and memorable as any set he's produced -- from the Bill Morrissey-esque "Dolce Et Decorum Est" at the beginning to the growing ache of "Closing In," which offers a glimpse into the inspiration for the album's title -- a brother recently sentenced to life imprisonment in Nevada. Ryan is tough to pigeonhole - in his voice, writing and music, you hear a little Westerberg, a little Springsteen, a little Waits - but as acquired tastes go, you could do a lot worse.
Ulrich Schnauss: Goodbye
Where Jesu comes at shoegaze from the periphery of metal - forging something that's probably too atmospheric and riff-free for most metal fans, and too heavy for shoegaze fans, but juuuust right for me - Schnauss comes at it from another direction entirely: Electronica. And, to be honest, he doesn't stray too far from that perspective. Overall, this is a pleasant enough album, but with the exception of a couple of songs ("Shine," in particular) they all tend to blur together and leave little lasting impact. Whatever... it was worth a try.
Jesu: Conqueror
Oh, mercy... I think I'm in love. One Amazon reviewer referred to this band as "infectious shoegazer doom," which piqued my curiosity more than a little bit. Think of the heavier bits of Ride - maybe Dreams Burn Down - but with a Marianas Trench-depth bass rumble, an underlying sense of menace, and mournful vocals ("Are you worth saving?") you wouldn't expect from the guy behind Napalm Death and Godflesh. What do you get? Something for my kids to complain about when I play it on their ride home from school every day. For the next month.
American Music Club: The Golden Age
A strong - if decidedly mellow - return to form for AMC. Abandoning the occasionally strident polemics of their 2004 comeback "Love Songs for Patriots," Eitzel, Vudi (bus-driving guitarist extraordinaire) and co. have crafted 13 lovely and memorable tunes that continue to surprise with each new listen. If you've got a place in your heart for low-key, often-beautiful pop nuggets wrapped around a sweet, bitter center of choruses chiming "No one here is gonna save you" and other similarly disconcerting sentiments (think: Pernice Brothers, in spirit if not in sound) then this is well worth your while.
Public Enemy: It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back
You know that scene in "Office Space" where Michael Bolton - the geeky, suburban white guy - is sitting in his car, incongruously shouting out rap lyrics? Yeah, well... as of today, that's me. Only with more child seats in the back. Bring the noise!
Lee Child: Bad Luck and Trouble (Jack Reacher)
Lee Child writes thrillers the way a thriller out to be written: fast, mean, smart, tough as hell, unafraid to surprise, and always leaving you hungry for more. This fine entry in the Jack Reacher series - I'm losing track, but I think it's the eighth (edit: I'm wrong. This is #11. Wow.) - is no exception.
Julie Powell: Julie and Julia: My Year of Cooking Dangerously
Yeah, I'm late to the party on this one. Whatever. A thoroughly enjoyable blog-turned-book about a woman who decides to produce all 524 recipes from the Julia Child cookbook in a single year.
Chelsea Cain: Heartsick
Remember "Silence of the Lambs?" Rhetorical question. Now imagine Hannibal Lecter as a beautiful blonde woman, and an opening chapter in which she hammers long, shiny nails into the ribs of our erstwhile protagonist. I don't know about you, but that sure hooked me. A surprisingly well-done and enjoyable thriller.
Chuck Palahniuk: Lullaby
Part 2 of my limited attempt to read some authors that people have been telling me to read for years. This one blends a lullaby that kills children with real estate ghosts, a talking cow and... uh... some necrophilia. Palahniuk is a strange and skilled writer, and I might have really enjoyed this book if I didn't feel like I was being harangued about the evils of consumerism throughout. (It gets a little tiresome, even if it's well-executed.)
Jonathan Carroll: White Apples
A womanizer comes back from the dead. Surprise! To discover his kind-of girlfriend is pregnant. Surprise! And the baby may be some type of universal savior. Surpr... huh? (Yeah, it's that kind of a hit-and-miss experience, although the part where a bunch of kids kill a baby elephant is pretty memorable.)
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