September 28, 2006

Las Vegas: Take Five
We're heading out to Sin City today for the much anticipated wedding of John and Allison. The misses is a bit handicapped for this adventure as she's wisely sworn off the sauce while carrying our progeny. So now everything rests on my shoulders to represent Team Skelton in the Vegas trenches. Vegas has become in some bizarro-world reality a kind of third home for me in the last decade. A strange and terrible home for sure, but one that I keep coming back to on an almost yearly basis. Is this really my fifth trip to Vegas in just the last seven years? How is that possible? I suppose John (aka The Groom) is more or less responsible for those skewed numbers. His family has built their fortunes in that desert town and their hospitality has always been reason enough to return. I have no doubt the family is going to pull out all the stops for this party and I'm just excited to be part of the festivities.

Time permitting, there are a few places that I want to get to this time 'round. The Las Vegas Gun Store being at the top of the list. It's one of the only places in the US that one can rent (and shoot), without permit or license, fully automatic machine guns. I got my heart set on firing the AK-47 Assault Rifle. I've also never been to the Vegas Neon Graveyard, a dusty lot that features all the old forgotten signage from casinos past. As always, the destination I look forward to returning to the most, The Peppermill Fireside Lounge, will be where you can find me between the hours of 3AM and 6AM.

September 26, 2006

2006 Twins Highlight Reel


We're going to be playing baseball in October!! What an exceptional year for the Twins. It's too bad I won't be back in Minnesota to watch the games. Twins Baby Beanies for everyone.

P.S. I simply love watching Gardenhire loose his cool and go off on umpires. We should all be allowed to do that from time to time.

September 25, 2006

Rockabye Baby!
Baby Rock Records transforms timeless rock songs into beautiful instrumental lullabies, sending your little one to a slumberland of sweet dreams. Delicate instruments such as the glockenspiel, vibraphone, mellotron, harp and bells create a soothing atmosphere of sound. These charming recordings are sophisticated enough for everyone to enjoy, yet gentle enough for your little angel. This is cherub rock for a new generation.

I'm planning on ordering the Bjork & Metallica one for sure. Funny, The Cure lullaby record just sounds like a normal Cure record.

September 22, 2006

Medieval Grill Work
I have no special love for the dentist but I don't have any aversion to the dentist either. It's just that, well, i've had other things on my mind for a while. And by 'a while' I mean THE LAST FIVE YEARS!

For good or ill, I subscribe to the 'If It Ain't Broke Don't Fix It' philosophy of medical treatments. Prevention, is a word entirely foreign to me. I mean I brush, I floss, and I keep a steady supply of The Doctor's BrushPicks near the computer for epic OCD inspired picking sessions. Is that not enough to win the battle against plaque and tarter?

Apparently not.

Yesterday, I finally got 'round to visiting the dentist. Hilarity ensued. First they gave me some forms to fill out.

Reason for visit: Dirty Teeth
Do you smoke: Yup
Coffee: That too
Alcohol: As much as I can get my hands on
Previous Dental History/Records: Sorry, they got lost in The Great Midwest fire of '99

For some reason, I thought they would appreciate my brutal honesty when I handed in the forms. But after reviewing my answers the receptionist girl just gave me a look of horror and told me to find a seat while she located her camera to take my Polaroid.

Finally got led back into the chair with the Dental Hygienist lady. Eighteen uncomfortable x-rays later we started in on the cleaning process. At this point, I was almost sure she was going to take one look at my mouth, lurch back and whisper 'sweet jesus'. So I was shocked when she kept saying things like: 'things look good', 'little problem here, but nothing serious', etc, etc. Then she started in on the cleaning and tarter removing with what sounded like a pencil-sized belt sander. It soon became apparent to her that some of this stuff had been on there awhile and wasn't budging. She voiced her disappointment while looking a little puzzled and then redoubled her efforts. Slowly things began to loosen up. I guess a normal cleaning is supposed to take about an hour and as we approached that mark it was clear this was going to go to extra innings.

At around the one-hour mark, things took a turn for the worse and quickly degenerated into a Larry David type moment. She mentioned that what she was doing was usually very painful. I said I didn't mind. It wasn't a problem. Somehow she got the impression that I was actually enjoying this pain. Like, in a 'you-sick-fuck' kinda way. Then, she mentioned something about usually people need anesthesia for the kind of digging she was doing. Unfortunately, I didn't really hear her say this, as I was preoccupied with feeling the back of my bottom teeth with my tongue and noticing the tactile difference. To this I exclaimed, "That's Insane". Which she then misunderstood as me saying that anybody who takes anesthesia for pain is crazy. Oh boy! That did it. Now I was an official pervert with an insatiable fetish for pain. Dental Hygenist pissed and uncomfortable. Me with a mouthful of tools making it very hard to clear my name. Fun-town. Then things really hit the fan. She, digging and scraping away says, "Um, do you smoke?". To which I say, "Ah...Yes".

Mistake. Game over. It was like I told her I eat babies for breakfast. Horror. Lecture. Contempt. Lecture. Anger. More Lecture. The next half-hour passed in a very uncomfortable angry silence. At the two-hour mark she threw up her hands in exhausted resignation and said I would have to schedule another appointment to finish the cleaning. She also made it very clear that she would not be the one performing that cleaning.

Then the doctor showed up to look over the x-rays. I was expecting the worst. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. But, it turns out that my teeth are pretty healthy. I've got a couple minor spots that need filling but other than that no damage done. Yet I can't get over the feeling that I traumatized the poor dental hygienist almost to the point of tears. My name is mud in that office for sure. Is there any hope that I might right my wrongs? Was she overreacting? Surely I'm not the first smoker to sit down in a dentist chair. It's enough to make a man wait another five years before going back. Alas, I want to get this cleaning over with and whatever cavities I have filled up. After that, we'll just have to see.

September 19, 2006

Swanky Sectional
Ginormous 'run of the mill' sectional available on Craigslist. You'd have to have some excess square footage in your family room to pull this one off. Even then, I'm not sure if you'd want to.

September 15, 2006

Dance of The Headless Bourgeoisie

Another successful one-day Cannonball Run journey to Seattle and back. This time to witness Nomeansno rock the El Corazone.

The band played with ferocious energy inspiring a packed house to leave everything on the dance floor. This was the first gig of their tour and luckily we'll get to see 'em again in one of their final gigs in Portland.

The drive back was brutal. Left Seattle at 12:45AM and arrived back home at 3:30AM. There is a certain stretch of I-5, that starts around Longview and ends around Vancouver Washington, that's a dark no man's land of mystery and dangerous possibility.

It should be noted that we made this exact same Portland-to-Seattle journey to see Nomeansno way back in the summer of '96 - ten years ago! I'm feeling good about that.

September 12, 2006

Homebrew For The Nearly Heartbroken
Just like the old kids song from my youth, the cat did actually come back. Not "the very next day" but she eventually found her way home. Gabby disappeared over a week ago Saturday night. A whole gut wrenching week went by before last Friday afternoon, when she came rambling back inside and let out a great cry to let me know she was back. Hazah! Of course there was much joy and rejoicing, as well as deep surprise for I was certain that she was a goner. I had visions of her being hauled off into the night by a feisty coyote with an appetite for furry pants. The disappearance was a total mystery and very uncharacteristic for Gabby as she likes to keep it close to home and sleeps soundly in our bed every night. The misses and I had flyered the neighborhood and taken all the steps we could think of to locate her. Nothing produced results. I'm still waiting for a full explanation from Gabby as to what she was doing during her holiday but she's playing her cards pretty close to the chest and I don't think she'll me forthcoming with the details I require for resolution on this one.

Last night, 'The Alfred Street Neighborhood Homebrewing Company' gathered to complete the bottling phase of our latest Special Edition - Patty's Chili Beer. Hot Damn. This one is an absolute winner. Brewed using only the finest Anaheim chilies, this dark beauty will be the perfect beverage for toasting the cool grip of Autumn. The beer must now do its magic in the bottles for about two weeks before it can be freed from its container. There was also talk of the next batch, which may turn out to be a pumpkin beer, delivered just in time for Tofurkey Day.

In other news...I've been catching up on my 'baby' reading materials. Interesting stuff. I've learned that I need to be reading out loud to the wife's belly so the little Cramped Commander will begin to recognize the sound of my voice. Ah, but what to read? Beowulf? Pound? The Financial Times? These are heady questions where my decisions may have ramifications down the line that I'm not sure I'll be able to defend. With that weight on my mind, I decided to start with the really heavy stuff - just go right for the jugular - and so I pulled out Jack Handy's Deep Thoughts. I'd like to share one with you right now:

If you ever fall off the
Sears Tower, just go
real limp, because
maybe you'll look like a
dummy and people will
try to catch you because,
hey, free dummy.

September 06, 2006

Hurricane John
A storm of productive elimination rocked through the Skelton compound on Labor Day. The first year of home ownership has been mostly about removal. The overarching design philosophy is that you have to tear things down before you build them back up. Something I've learned from our great presidenté over the last six years.

Unbeknownst to us when we bought the Ranch, it had been rented out by the previous owners for some time. Apparently, the renters didn't care much for yard work and the landlord was decidedly absentee. Thus things on the Ranch got a wee bit overgrown and fantasy-jungle-like during that period. All of which adds up to long weekends of yanking, cutting, pulling, slashing, trimming, digging and so forth. Had I known this when we moved in I would have immediately purchased a wood-chipper.

This past weekend saw one of the more Herculean efforts put forth towards opening up the canopy in the front yard. What was once a total doom & gloom shade garden (aka dirt) has been liberated and sun now tickles the flora with light. Next season I plan to take full advantage of this reawakening. Hell, I might actually get around to planting something.

Speaking of planting something...oh that's awful...please forgive me: 20-week ultrasound photos (everything looks healthy and normal!).

September 01, 2006

Swaddle Me in Good Design
Do they make these things for adults too? Yes they do, they are called straight-jackets.

Be that as it may, I would still like one in an adult XL. Then push me around in this pimped out ride.

Do you want my initial impression of baby gear? One word: hideous. Actually let me modify that, American designed baby gear is hideous. Never have I seen such a wide chasm of disparity than while looking at the differences between American and European baby design aesthetics. It's interesting to see how one company will make the exact same product with the exact same name for two different markets. The European one will be simple, clean and modest, while the American counterpart will be bloated, ornamented, and all wrapped up in a fabric that looks like it was ripped off the lobby floor of a hotel in Disneyworld.

It's also troubling that if you do find something simple and minimalist, it's usually five times the price as its ostentatious and gregarious cousins. I need to find a cheap flight to Finland.