The Required Amount at the Prescribed Rate (Handcrafted From the Finest Corinthian Leather)
Pizza Ambitions
Quest for Pizza . . . Old Bridge Edition
Two For One Pizza: Sounds Like A Good Idea, Right?
1.5 Kilometers is more than 1 kilometer
1.5 Kilometers is more than 1 kilometer
Dave Redefines Refrigerator Blindness
Like many men, I have difficulty finding things in the refrigerator and on our pantry shelves and I often require assistance from my wife to locate what I'm looking for-- but today at school, I took "refrigerator blindness" to an unprecedented level-- on my off period, I drove over to Mancini's and got two slices of pizza to-go and by the time I had driven back to the school-- the two slices riding shotgun, filling my car with delicious scents of brick-oven baked crust and sweet marinara sauce-- I was salivating and ravenous (I played 6:30 AM pickleball this morning and probably showered in raw sewage-- because did they really flush out the shower in the coach's room?) and so I entered the school with my slices and made a beeline for the English Office, grabbed a seat, and inhaled my pizza-- and then I heard someone mention the word "fridge," which is a sore subject because the administration confiscated all of our department mini-fridges and microwaves over the summer (because of a toaster fire) and I said, "Are we getting a fridge soon?" and the other five teachers in the room stared at me in disbelief and then I followed their collective stare to the utterly gigantic white refrigerator looming right next to the doorway that I had recently barged through with my pizza slices and my boss Jess said: "You know how men can't find stuff in the refrigerator? Dave can't even find the refrigerator!" and she was right.
Back to Belleayre (But Better)
1/8/2009
We entered a new realm last night, a realm where me, my wife, and my three year old son can consume an entire large pizza (Alex didn't want any)-- but far scarier is that my child has become my rival, as I was shutting the pizza box, Ian spied that there was one piece left and he "called" it-- he said, "Don't eat that last piece, I want it," which is my role in the family, to finish off all the extra food, but obviously those days are gone so if I'm looking skinny, you'll know why.
Erich Pratt Reminds Us of Our God-given Rights
Quest for Pizza . . . The Best Tomato Pie?
A Sentence in Which No One Gets Whacked
Things I Learned After It Was Too Late Volume 427
Mrs. X Finds X
Stuff With Manasquan in the Name
Retro Saturday of Stuff to Appreciate
Spreading Some News About NYC
Road Trip Day Three . . . We Travel at the Air-Speed Velocity of an Unladen Swallow
Alex: a coconut is almost a mammal!
Dad: what?
Alex: it has hair, and it gives milk . . . all it needs is to have live young;
Mom: what about a heart and a brain?
Alex: Ian doesn't have a brain, and he's a mammal!
but despite the long haul, the high temperatures, and my epic quest to find parking, we were able to rally and cover a lot of ground in the city-- for all the shortcomings of my children, I will give them this: as long as we keep feeding them, they can walk forever . . . even with the addition of "punishment push-ups," which they are consistently doing for various bad choices; anyway, here are a few highlights and lowlights of Day Three:
1) major surprise . . . when it's hot in Chicago, it's a beach town . . . at the shore of Lake Michigan, the skyscrapers abruptly end and the beaches begin . . . and another surprise . . . there were lots of attractive, scantily clad women roaming about (I had imagined the women of Chicago to be stout and solid . . . female versions of the guys in the SNL "dah Bears" skit) and there were loads of people sailing little boats and partying on yachts;
2) the view from the top of the John Hancock Observatory is astounding, but it must eventually get rather mundane, as the girl who ran the elevator made herself an excellent rubber band ball and was having a good time bouncing it;
3) the view from our hotel is awful, as all the rooms at the Holiday Inn Chicago Mart are on the interior of the building, but this is karma-- as we were upgraded in Pittsburgh and got the best view in the city-- so things needed to even out (and you can see down into the hotel pool, which is mildly entertaining . . . and if you leave the room, you can look down into the lobby, which is very nice . . . the hotel is a donut within a donut, I think);
5) deep dish pizza at Gino's East is good but very filling (and also really expensive and takes quite a while to make) so though the kids loved it, I much prefer Pete and Elda's at the Jersey shore;
5) nutritionally, I had an especially ugly day: Jimmy Dean sausage and egg sandwich for breakfast, two McDonald cheeseburgers for brunch, a chili dog with onions at Portillo's for lunch, and deep dish pizza with sausage, peppers, and onions for dinner . . . but at least I avoided the deep-fried cheeseburger;
6) there was also some serious nutritional disappoint when we found out that Rick Bayless's two Mexican places that we were dying to visit are closed on both Sundays and Mondays . . . our only hope is a quick breakfast on Tuesday before we head to Iowa.
Your Butt, A Pizza, Same Difference . . .
Old Dog = New Tricks
Some Recent Stuff
Here's what's been going on:
1) Friday afternoon, South Rive stomped us 5-1 . . . they have a lot of fast Brazilian kids on their team . . . and, according to their coaches, there's been an influx of Brazilian folks moving into town and many-- but not all!-- of the Brazilian kids moving into town are good at soccer;2) Friday night after the game, I drove down to the beach for a quick vacation with some high school buddies (and one college buddy) and there were six guys and thirteen guitars in the beach house . . . thanks Neal!
3) I rode my friend John's "one-wheeler" and did not die . . . though I felt like I might at first, but it did get easier-- you've really got to relax and it does feel a bit like snowboarding;