Friday, February 03, 2006


Like most people who work for the Dean campaign and then appear on Fox News, my friend Andy, (who, yes, is a boy, and my friend, but... not like that) can no longer show his face in polite society. He spoke on reality television at 6:55 in the morning--like, as in, as the sun was rising--but because without Andy I would not have a teaching job or an MSNBC gig or a 0% interest balance transfer credit card or an upcoming reading or a box of Blast o' Butter in the pantry or, for that matter, a blog, I watched.

It is an odd feeling to see a good friend's head on your television screen. There he was! Friendboy Andy! Purchaser of cocktails and proponent of TiVo! I felt like creeping behind him on the set and pointing at him: "MINE! MY FRIEND! I'VE SLEPT IN HIS APARTMENT! ONLY, NOT LIKE THAT!"

This is an exciting career moment for me, because whatever Friendboy Andy does, I usually follow about five years later. So sometime around 2011, I get to be not-amused by Steve Doocy before millions of people. Awesome.

But Friendboy Andy has been busy about many important things, including, quite possibly, the assassination of bin Laden. He is a Friendboy of Mystery. He disappears for weeks at a time, vanishes for what he delicately and broadly refers to as "appointments", and the next thing I know he's been featured in USA Today or is writing a book chapter or has won the Nobel Prize for Physics or some amazing grown-up person thing. "When did you uncover the lost city of Atlantis?" I'll ask him, and he'll be like, "Oh... didn't I tell you about that?"

You need a Friendboy Andy, if only for the feeling of being an extra on 24.

PROGRAMMING NOTE: The Name! That! Fetus! contest remains open throughout the weekend. Winner gets to... name the fetus.

the frontrunner is "schnitzel" at:

Wednesday, February 01, 2006


-Jim the Baby Nephew, as it happens, finds derision not to his royal liking. Last night my parents tricked him into eating vegetables, and he pulled a vegetable-related face, and everybody pointed at him and laughed, whereupon he burst into tears, so my parents spent the rest of the night feeling like the Worst! Grandparents! Ever! Excellent; he's inherited his Aunt Beth's thick skin.

So by reaching into my vast well of parenting wisdom here, I have concluded that it's totally okay to mock your child, as long as you do it before he has reached the ability to make you regret it.

-While we have The Prince in mind, I am struggling with a name for the successor to his sovereign high chair. Longtime readers will remember that before Jim was born, I refered to him as Taufling. I can't think of a name for his in-utero brother or sister. Help, please? ("SuperBun" is right out.)

-Josh the Pilot and I were watching a movie that involved the time frame "five years" and we discussed how five years can seem like a short while, but massive life changes may come into effect therein. "For instance," I said with immense smugness, "five years ago, I was a college student." Then I counted on my fingers and ascertained that I was, in fact, not. We then had the following conversation:

JTP: It's okay. I feel like I just graduated from college too.

If you can't rent a car , you have absolutely no business feeling old.

februrary is national wildbird feeding month at:

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