News of the Right

Occasionally, my brother sends me stories about my nephew’s progress in life and, really, just how scarily smart he is. This came in last night from Scott to me and our mom:

A conversation with the boy this evening:

Daddy: “You wanna stop at McDonald’s for some fries as a snack?”

Dominic: “And some chicken nuggets.”

Daddy: “You can have one or the other.”

Dominic: “OK. Nuggets.”

We get to McDonald’s drive through and he sees the sign advertising the toys in the Happy Meal. (He can’t read, but he can figure this out, for sure.)

Dominic: “Can I get a Happy Meal?”

Daddy: “No, you’ve already had dinner. This is just a snack.”

Dominic: “Daddy, do you know what they call nuggets with no fries?”

Daddy: “What?”

Dominic: (pointedly) “A Sad Meal.”

My son. Your nephew. Your grandson.

The kid cracks me up.

My brother sent me this email today about my nephew:

Hee hee hee hee.

I was rolling in the car tonight on the way back to Dominic’s house. He’s been having the Bible read to him at night and I asked him how it was going.

“Good.”

“Did you get to the flood story yet?”

“The one with Noah’s ark, yeah.”

“Did you like it?”

“Yeah.”

I asked him some questions about the two birds and all that and then said:

“Did you know that there’s another story just like that about a flood?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, except in this other one Noah is called Utnapishtim.”

“Why’s he called Utnapishtim?!?!?!?!?!?”

He pronounced it properly and his enunciation was so perfect that I started laughing my ass off. It was cute as hell. I explained why his name was different, yeah. He wasn’t proud of himself for having said it right. He just kept saying it over trying to get me to laugh again.

I asked him, “Do you remember which animals Noah took?”

“All of them. Except the unicorns were goofing around.”

*pause*…”Is that why we don’t have unicorns anymore?”

“Yeah.”

God, I love that kid!

Eli’s Tavern at 1002 W 26th St, whose website I would link to if they had one, but they don’t because it’s a little hole-in-the-wall neighborhood bar in Erie, PA and needs to stay that way, serves the best wings I’ve ever had. And I’ve eaten a lot of wings in my day. They boast a menu of 47 different sauces and 12 dry rubs - some are much more successful than others, but in general, you can’t go wrong with any of them. The wings are meaty and juicy, the skin is crisp and snaps when you bite into it.

Dear lord, I’m so sorry I’m back in Austin. I’m hungry for these wings!!!!!!

My brother, his friend Michelle and I got wings from Eli’s two days before I left for Austin, and as you can see from the picture above, we got quite a bit - deep fried pretzels with jalapeño cheese, 20 regular buffalo wings, 8 teriyaki jalapeño, 8 hot honey and 8 24 karat gold (spicy mustard sauce). I also had two draughts of Yuengling at the bar while I waited for dinner to be made. All told, the bill was $32.

Gotta love a small town neighborhood bar! Get you some Eli’s next time you’re in Erie!!

Ambigrams are clever pictures that are the same backwards and forwards, or right-side up or upside down, or angle-to-angle (soon to be made wildly popular with the movie adaptation of Dan Brown’s Angels & Demons, no doubt). And the 20th Anniversary DVD of a favorite movie of mine, The Princess Bride, features an ambigram:

Pretty neat, eh? I saw this movie for the first time on Thanksgiving Day, 1987. It was my freshman year at Mercyhurst College and I had just worked a 13 hour shift at Rebecca’s Restaurant where I was a bus slave. Really, my job at Rebecca’s was a great one; obviously so, I had been there for three years by the time I started college. The whole staff was amazingly cool - the bartender let us drink after-shift sometimes, the head waiter was a condescending prick with a wicked sense of humor (ah, Fred!) whom we all loved, the eponymous co-owner was a terrific woman with a thing for gay men, the wait staff was a trip and us bus kids… well, we thought we owned the place. On the Thanksgiving in question, I was to work the early shift, then go home to have dinner with my folks. However, just before I was supposed to leave, Fred told me that several of the bus kids who were supposed to be there, weren’t coming. They were “sick” or some such BS. Fred gave me the option to leave, but said they really needed the help that afternoon.

What could I do? I called my mom and told her to go ahead and eat without me. A work ethic is a terrible thing sometimes, right? Thank God Mom understood.

One other busser stayed for a second shift - Amy. By the time we were done it was way late and we were exhausted, but we couldn’t relax. Rebecca fed us and tipped us extra (from her own pocket, I think), so, feeling rich, Amy and I called our parents and said we were going to see a movie to unwind. The Princess Bride.

To say I howled and stomped and cried my way through the movie is a gross injustice to the embarrassment that Amy suffered that night. But The Princess Bride is still one of the best movies ever, and I say that with twenty years’ (!!!) worth of perspective and repeated viewings, not just through the lens of punchiness.

Jesus. Twenty years.

Next week, I go home to Erie, PA to see my folks for an extended Christmas visit. And usually before I go home (case in point, tonight), I log into Gay.com to see what folks are about and if there’s anyone cool to meet or whatnot. Really, I almost never do this anymore because chatting is such a hassle and, really, if i wanted to see any of these guys, I’d go visit in person. Still, gay people in my hometown fascinate me, and going back makes me want to see what the scene is like (especially if anyone from high school is there - heh heh). Then I got a private message that reminded me why I don’t chat often:

«xxxxxxxxxxxx» visitng?
«stsean» not yet
«stsean» next week
«txxxxxxxxxxxx» up for a massage when visting?
«xxxxxxxxxxxx» i do sensaul erotic to deep - can really use the business
«stsean» well, tis the season
«xxxxxxxxxxxx» th
«xxxxxxxxxxxx» thx
«stsean» no pro
«stsean» er..  no prob
«xxxxxxxxxxxx» well keep me postd next week
«stsean» whoops! my freudian slip was showing there.
«xxxxxxxxxxxx» unto sure what u meant
«stsean» unto?
«xxxxxxxxxxxx» yeah
«stsean» what is “unto”?
«xxxxxxxxxxxx» duh. un means not.
«stsean» so you’re not to sure what i meant.
«xxxxxxxxxxxx» yeah.
«stsean» nice chest pics.
«xxxxxxxxxxxx» thx

*sigh* And he really did have nice pecs. But that was about all.

Apparently, change is inevitable.

Maybe it’s me getting older or that the world is wobbling dangerously close to the precipice, but I have started clutching into memories and places (and people.. for which I’m sure I owe them apologies) that make me happy. Like truly in-that-moment-nothing-else-exists happy. Which probably explains my nostalgic recreation of our neighborhood Dungeons & Dragons collection.. including the Dungeon Master’s Screen I just won on eBay. Lord.

Last night, an Erie, PA landmark burnt to the ground - Fuhrman’s Cider Mill. This was the place my mom, my brother and I went almost every Saturday every October to get fresh-pressed cider and still-warm doughnuts. It was hard to save some for the usual Saturday night sleepovers, and I usually drank so much I would get tummy aches (and so worth it!). Nothing is more Fall to me than Fuhrman’s cider. It’s October in a glass - smells of fires, crunchy leaves and the hint of worse cold to come. And it’s gone. 111 years before and after my best years, and it took two days to burn.

Change sucks. Ask anyone.

Hell, ask me.