1973 wink contest (from the super-8 film festival), 1.1.04
Hey folks— I’m reporting to you live from my sister’s living room, where she and I are geeking out while Jen showers. Lots to write about; a fantastic Christmas here in NY State, preceded by a very low-key New Year’s at my parents’ place (we were in bed by 12:15, romantics that we are).
Jen and I are thankful, happy, and a little overwhelmed by the sheer Christmas-osity of the Dugan clan; between my folks and my sister, we have to figure out how to fit an entire furniture store’s worth of stuff into our rented Chevy Trailblazer. Jen has a new garden composter the size of a cement mixer; it will provide rich, meaty humus for the entire neighborhood. We have a brand-new amplifier with enough inputs on the back to control the Maryland power grid. It will be the command center for our wedding music selection and the basis of our entertainment center, supplanting the hand-me-down Sherwood receiver I inherited as payment for moving my friend Sophie seventeen times after college. I have a new close-focus lens for the G3, which means I will be bombarding all five of you readers with macro shots of everything under the sun. We have enough cookbooks to start our own library branch, more boxer shorts for me, and Jen has a heavenly pearl necklace from my sister which could possibly (but not definitely) be a stunning counterpoint to a wedding dress.
We stopped in to see my Grampa Dugan on Saturday, and it was great to sit with him for an hour or so. He looks fantastic for a man of 89 (definitely better than he has the last few times we’ve been up), and he’s looking forward to the new golf season. My aunts and uncles have each arranged to take him for a couple of weeks this winter, which will be good for him, as he’ll be eating better and actually using the heat.
Jen and I celebrated our first Christmas together in our new house, and we had a great time together. After rushing around for last-minute gift ideas we returned to home base to get pies baked, presents wrapped, clothes washed, dinner made, and our yuletide on. She bought me the Cadillac of Norelco shavers, the kind with the goo and the attachments and a mirror and all kinds of other gear. It’s probably more powerful than my laptop, and it shaves my face smoother than a baby’s bottom. She also bought me the first book of Maus (mine has been AWOL since college) and a copy of O Brother, Where Art Thou on DVD, which is super-keen, and then she went nuts at the store and bought me some swank Kenneth Cole and DKNY shirts, for which I must now practice my Blue Steel.
I got Jen an iPod of her own this year as well as a day of beauty at a local spa: 2 hours’ full-body and scalp massage, manicure, pedicure, shampoo and blow-dry. I think she’ll be well taken care of there.
We then packed up the cars and headed south to the Lockard family home for the first of two openings, where we have been practicing our Christmas-Fu. Let us just say that our technique is rusty, because we needed to leave the dojo to seek the comfort of sushi and multiple bottles of Sapporo last night. Christmas-Fu makes you thirsty, we have found—or could that be the Christmas ham….?
Today Jen is leading an expedition out into the wilderness to look at bridesmaid dresses, which will most likely end up resembling a recreation of the Donner Party massacre. I’m trying to find something to pack half of my Christmas vodka into to send along with her, but being in a strange house limits me to empty Windex bottles or just sending her out with the whole fifth tucked in her pants like a pistol. Which, in retrospect, wouldn’t be a bad thing, really.
We hope you’re all having a wonderful weekend with your loved ones.
Jen and I have gotten about 95% of our shopping done and the wrapping wrapped up. I have to stop in tonight to return one thing and pick up a replacement for one of our other gifts, but after that’s done we should be set. We also have a midsize SUV reserved for the drive north to my parents’ place—between my awesome sister finding us furniture to bring home and the Christmas gifts, we should be driving to New York pimp-style with room to spare. It will also be a relief to not worry about the Tortoise blowing a gasket in mid-Pennsylvannia.
I spent about an hour putting together playlists on the iPod this weekend. There are 80’s, 70’s and 60’s playlists, an easy-listening playlist (for having folks over and enjoying mellow conversation—you don’t want your Public Enemy bum-rushing the show when it comes up in your 80’s playlist) and a driving playlist, which is about 350 hand-picked upbeat tunes from a wide variety of genres. I’m spinning that one right now, and it’s great.
Mmmmmmmmm, Pudding. Sunday afternoon Todd and Heather had us over with Nate and Kristen for an early dinner; Heather knocked herself out as usual (some people throw together a peanut butter sandwich for you—Heather throws together a frittatta, a tasty dish which most people can’t even pronounce) with a roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, potatoes, beans, and wine. Damn good. After dinner Todd appealed to the inner boozehound in us all and busted out the apertifs, tempting us with tasty scotch, bourbon, and, well, more scotch. Todd, where were you Thursday night when we needed you?
Here are some selected pictures from the weekend.
All the music I’ve burned, catalogued, organized, and rated to date is on the iPod. I’m listening to a song thru the headphones on my Powerbook with the iPod plugged in—I feel like this thing is finally working the way I had imagined. Now to build some powerful playlists and finish the last few ratings…
Speaking of music, here’s an absolutely brilliant use of Flash for a music website: John Coltrane. Good work, guys.
One Down. In other news, I’ve got my Mom’s X-mas gift here; I think she’s going to be thrilled with this. (Hi, Mom!) Now to get Renie done and finish up Jen’s presents. Thankfully, Dad was the easiest one this year- thanks to Renie’s idea. And a great idea it is. (Hi, Dad!) Usually, buying something for my Dad is next to impossible, as is my Mom—my Dad is a lot like me in that his hobbies are very specific and only he really knows exactly what he wants, which makes any surprise difficult. Mom has just about everything, so buying for her is usually impossible as well. This year Renie presents the biggest challenge, which is a real shocker.
Two Down… Well, they convicted this guy a few weeks ago, and they got this guy last night; let’s hope they get this kid too. It’s about time the criminal justice system started working in high-profile cases. Janklow should have admitted he was wrong, stepped down, and taken responsibility for his actions. Nice to see that a U.S. Congressman tried to weasel out of a manslaughter conviction by claiming he was diabetic. Good riddance.
We have made it through the other side of the first blizzard in this house with no injuries or disasters. Saturday morning we went outside to help our neighbor and his wife dig their car out of the snow (he’s the one who had a pacemeker put in three weeks ago.) They took off to run errands and came back to give us some heavenly coffee cake from Sugarbaker’s down the street. The rest of the day was spent in pursuit of leisure. At 8, Redux came on Bravo and we wound up sitting through that whole thing until midnight—it was interesting to see the new footage, but I can’t say it added anything to the movie that needed to be there. I highly recommend Hearts Of Darkness, the documentary made with footage shot by Coppola’s wife during the filming, as it contains a ton of fascinating behind the scenes stuff that is alternately heartbreaking and hysterical.
(The Angels Wanna Wear My.) We drove up to the Towson mall this afternoon to get out of the house and do a little shopping. One of the first places we hit was the Apple Store, where I asked about the blue iMac. From what it sounds like, the video board is fried—a $300 repair. Yikes! We then ventured over to the Nordstrom Rack where Jen found a dress and I found a pair of red retro sneakers. I’ve always wanted a pair of cool red shoes, and I’ve got them now for the low price of $27.
Grandma’s Hands. Two things reminded me of my late grandparents this weekend, and they both brought me a smile. Jen and I busted out our Christmas gear on Saturday and tried to make the place look festive. One of the things I’ve had for years is Rappin’ Santa, a little fabric covered Santa Claus who raps a tune when you clap your hands and dances in time to the beat:
Jingle rap, jingle rap
Jingle all the way[unintelligble]
In a onehorse open sleighHah!
Huh-hah, Jingle Rap!
Huh-hah, huh!
My Mom’s mom gave it to me before she passed on, and I never get sick of it.
The other thing that brought a smile to my face were the mittens I put on to shovel the walk on Saturday. They are green, a shade that doesn’t go well with anything I own, and made out of heavy synthetic wool. Every Christmas my gramma Dugan would have us all trace our hands on paper so that she could knit us mittens for the next year. The mittens I have were actually made for my Dad about twenty years ago, but they fit my hands perfectly. They’ve been with me for years and seen lesser machine-made mittens die, and I think of her every time I wear them.
Gobble Gobble. Well, we sent the folks on their way this morning after a breakfast at the Double ‘T’ on Rt. 40; a great time was had by all. Jen and I got up Thursday morning and simultaneously cooked food, cleaned house, and moved furniture before my folks arrived. We had a 14 lb. bird, harvest stuffing, smashed potatoes, candied yams, fresh snapped beans, and Mom’s gravy (winner and still champ-een, two years running.) It was great to be able to sit and have a real family meal around the new (to us) table in the dining room like grown-ups, as well—the day of the little enamel-top table is done. Dessert was a choice of homemade pecan pumpkin pie or carrot cake (Jen spoils us) and coffee. We all slept very heavy that night.
Friday Jen served us her homemade cinnamon buns for breakfast, and we ventured out into the rain to Home Anthology, where Jen and I cashed in our gift certificate (thanks Nate, Kristen, Heather and Todd) for a beautiful mirror for over the fireplace. We wandered around Ellicott City and had lunch at the brewpub on the hill. Mercifully, we didn’t buy a ton of stuff while we were there.
Saturday we drove to Andy Nelson’s to pick up twelve pounds of barbecue, and got the house ready for Jen’s fambly. They drove up in Big Blue at about 4:30, two hours later than we were planning, but we got them likkered up and built a fire and sat around the living room and told stories. Much better than last year, when we shoehorned everyone into the rowhome and then took them to the typhoid breeding ground for dinner.
Today’s menu is full of leisure, leftovers, and low maintenance. I did rake the rest of the leaves off the back lawn and bagged them when we got home from breakfast, however. And it looks like Isabel, or whatever funky weather pattern we’ve had since then, dropped a branch into the roof of the greenhouse by the top, which I have to figure out how to fix before snowfall.
leaf, frederick road, 11.9.03
Thanks to Jason for Panther; I’m kind of nervous about installing it just yet, but it’s great to have ready.
Additions. Renie reminded me to add another cherished memory from childhood:
Don’t forget about the William Tell Overture and HOURS of hauling firewood—nay, large dead trees—to the green Ford F150.
(My Dad, in a well-meant bid for lower fuel bills in the gas crunch of the late 70’s, decided to install a wood stove in the basemen of our house. Which, naturally, meant we had to go chop wood, drag it to the truck, haul it to the house, split it, stack it down by the shed, and carry wheelbarrowfuls to the basement window each night after dinner. Ah, the memories. Don’t get me started on the time he made me climb a ladder to throw a brick down the flue to clean it…)
The 1812 Overture. One of the wonderful things about living in Catonsville is the number of old trees that surround the neighborhood. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and our yard has been looking like a vacant lot for about two weeks. My father, in the old days, used to wake us for raking duty by putting records on his 1950’s era console record player and blasting the volume; usually it was Tchaikovsky, and he would roust us from bed in the hours before dawn, prop us at the table in front of bacon and eggs, and then kick us out the front door with rakes in our hands to clean the yard. Being young and stupid, we would complain, fool around, and make the job last until long after lunch, when he would stick his head out of the garage or from under the car to tell us to get back to work. I quickly developed a dislike for raking and a Pavlovian response to Tchaikovsky. When I moved to the city and bought a rowhouse, I said a prayer of thanks for the lack of lawn to mow and rake. When we bought the house in Catonsville, I knew what I was getting into, but found that mowing was actually kind of satisfying; unfortunately I’ve confirmed that my dislike of raking is still alive and well.
(To be fair, doing the front yard was kind of fun. About halfway through the backyard, I got sick of it suddenly.)
Jen is now (12:25PM) in the middle of shopping for a weding dress. her mother stayed with us last night, and we had a fantastic dinner with her, sipping wine and talking. After the dishes, I was able to make a fire in the fireplace and keep it going; the damper in the flue is gone, so all the air in the house is drawn to the chimney and past the fire, which gets too much oxygen and smolders itself out. I closed the glass doors built onto the front of the hearth and found that the fire burned brightly and well that way. We’ll have to have somebody come out to replace the missing damper so we can enjoy both the heat and the light from the flames.
pumpkin, 10/31
Jen just called to say that the wedding expedition has been postponed another week, on account of cold. Which is probably for the best.
Boo. Yesterday we had the employees’ kids come through the office for candy and sugary goodness; I put my graduation robe on and took pictures of Elvis as he handed out candy. Jen’s in bed sick this morning—she woke up and coughed for about fifteen minutes straight at the top of the stairs before curling up in the bed in front of cable TV this morning. Luckily there’s a Buffy marathon on today, so she has plenty of company (and with five cats, I think she’ll have plenty of company.)
Wish her luck, because (theoretically) she’s still going to be looking at wedding dresses with her Mom tomorrow. As if being sick wasn’t enough. I need to hit the store for some hard liquor tomorrow, because she’s going to need it, sick or not.
Finally. I ordered a 30GB iPod from Small Dog Electronics yesterday, and it should be here by Monday. I’ve been waiting for one of these since they were released, and I can’t tell you how excited I am to finally be getting one. The price couldn’t be beat, and refurbished with a one-year warranty for $20 less than a new 20GB is a deal. So take note, Fambly: there will be iPod accessories on my Christmas list this year! (UPDATE: the links above actually work now, as WebObjects caches the links from the Apple Store for only a short time.)
The other bonus is that we’re most likely not going to be able to afford a DJ or musicians at the wedding (besides the piper) unless we wheel and deal, so my plan was to set up a party playlist on the iPod and wire it into the stereo system on shuffle, so that we can spin our own tunes and not worry about having some dork with the portable microphone play “the chicken dance“.