Thank God This Whole "Summer" Thing is Over

You know what's great?  Mac 'n Cheese.  Kung Fu Movies.  Raises that are above 5%.   Don't get me started on pirates and ninjas.  Also: thinking you woke up at 6AM on a Thursday only to realize it's 4AM on a Friday and you can get 2 more hours of sleep.

But you know what else is awesome?  Fall.  It's definitely in the final four of the NCAA for Seasons.  There's something like that right?  I don't know sports.

Regardless. If you've never experienced a fall, you've gotta get in on it, because Fall is tremendously amazing for all of the following reasons.

• It is not elevinty billion degrees outside and you do not have to constantly sweat while doing things like sitting around wishing it wasn't summertime.  This is the main benefit to the fall.

In addition to the multitude of reasons listed above, you've also gotta consider the other, less important aspects of the hay-ride to Christmas that is Autumn.  Namely: Hay rides, leaf piles, orange and brown house decorations, and my beautiful country's wondrous decision to write into the constitution the celebration of the Turkey.  It is my constitutional right to have a near death experience once a year from turkey-overdose.  

But on a less ridiculous note, I've gotta refute a little bit the arguments that some people have made that tend to paint Fall as the harbinger of all things cold and awful.  There is something magical about walking through the park, shuffling through the dead leaves with your feet, with your wife's hand in yours while watching the remaining leaves on the trees submit to the inevitable arson that is Autumn.  

In addition, Autumn is the official start of Banya season.  More on this later.

Also, not to sound weird or anything, but I happen to know that I look pretty damn good in fall clothes.  

So there you have it - why I'm super excited about the coming fall.  I'm linking this post up with Mama Insomnia who absolutely loves the fall.  And you can too!  Just click the button below for more discussions about how incredibly awesome the fall is.

The Funnel Cake Saga...Part One

My wife has many, many wonderful qualities.  What follows is not a discussion of one of them.  I would like to tell you a story about what happened during our trip to the beach.  And yes, there are lots of adorably cute pictures of Sammy in a diaper and an awesome safari hat with his feet stuck into the sand.  But the story is much more important.

This is like Porn to my wife

My wife has a terrible obsession with funnel cake.  So when we went to the beach, she had been preparing me for a couple weeks about how it was my responsibility as a husband to go into the wilderness and hunt and kill for her a cake of the funnel variety and bring it back to the cave so as to provide for my family.  I informed her that it was not the Mesozoic, and, in fact, that since she makes more money than me (it's a temporary issue, I'm sure) - she was quite capable of purchasing her own stupid cake.  Then, I peacefully agreed to get her a funnel cake, but only after a gentle jab in the ribs from my better half.

We were walking down the boardwalk, and figured we had about two hours before Sammy needed to sleep, so we could walk down the boardwalk for an hour and turn around, which would work out perfectly.  She knew of a funnel cake place exactly an hour out, so that would be our turnaround place.  (aside: how does one "know of a funnel cake place"?  don't they just appear out of the ether?  It's not like they're in the yellowbook or anything).

We had a magnificent walk, enjoying the sights, and laughing pleasantly watching Sammy interact with the bright new surroundings.

When we got to the funnel cake place, I got a table in the outdoor food court area.  The wife came over with the funnel cake, and sat across from me, obviously unsettled.  I asked what the issue was.  Her reply: Seagulls.  There must have been fifty of them all hanging out around this outdoor seating area.

"Braiiiiins!  But in a pinch, funnel cake will suffice"

"Seagulls?"  I replied, "Psh, they're weak!  There is no way those things will come over here.  And even if they do, I'll swat it with my fists of fury."

So.....The rest of the story pretty much writes itself.

She got freaked, and we got up to start walking to a less seagull-y area (she still hasn't had a piece of funnel cake yet).  I've got the funnel cake in my hands, when she says to me, "Honey dearest, please break a piece of the funnel cake off and hand it to me", to which I replied, "sure, my lovely sweet peach!"

And all of a sudden...BAM!  A seagull lands right on my head as I'm passing the piece to the wife.  Another one blind-sides me and knocks the funnel cake out of my hand.  The cake is lying helpless on the boardwalk (right-side up, thankfully), and my dear, loving, wife says to me, "What are you doing?!? Pick it up!!  It's funnel cake, for god's sake!" Thanks, love.  I'm beginning to see the list of priorities form in my wife's head.  #1: Sammy  #2: Funnel Cake  #3 Herself: and #238: My 26 year streak of no seagull bites.

At this point, there are four seagulls swarmed around the cake, and I've gotta live up to my "gonna smack'em" mantra I so stupidly asserted earlier in the evening.  I crack a couple across the beak with my sneakers and dive in for the cake.

When I've finally secured the funnel cake in hand, she says to me "Come on! to the hotel!!!"  And we dash off towards our hotel room where we're sure we won't be eaten alive by seagulls.  The seagulls follow us.  When they continue divebombing us, she then says, "What are you doing??  Walk with us, but far behind us!  but whatever you do, SAVE THE FUNNEL CAKE!"

My dear, dear wife.  I owe so much to you.  Namely, the seagull hickeys I've got now all over my body.

I didn't listen to my wife for the first time in a long while, and I sacrificed the funnel cake.  May it rest in peace.  Though likely it was ripped apart by a huge flock of seagulls and then subsequently passed through all of their digestive systems and launched back on the poor boardwalk goers.  That's what they get, I guess, for not helping us defend against seagull attack.

The story's not over, but that's enough for one post.  Until tomorrow!

Trading Sweat for Obesity

On any normal day, if you were to say to me, "Hey, Bill - I've got a splendid idea! Let's go to the beach!"

I'd instead hear this: "Hello, person I hate - I secretly want to kill you.  And the first step in my plan is to tear you from your comfortable air conditioning, stuff you into shorts that have a weird net in them that threatens your freshness, put sand in every place it shouldn't be, and leave you with a terrible skin ailment that will likely give you cancer, but in the meantime makes it uncomfortable to sleep.  Also, please make sure to swim out into the deep part of the ocean so all the billions of terrible fishes and sharks can nibble at your toes until you pass away from nibble-fatigue."

This is the test of true friendship - beaches and Bill mix like seagulls and alka-seltzer.

But not today.  We're headed to the Jersey shore this weekend for some good old fashioned fist pumping and GTL.  In "hey, actually you have a kid" terms, this really means learning how to change a diaper without getting sand in there and applying sun block every five minutes.

And even though I will likely be sweating the entire weekend +2 days, it's totally effing worth it.  We haven't taken time off from work to just sit and relax in over a year.  So I'll suffer through a little bit of melanoma if it means I get to stop working 11 hour days and worrying about silly stuff like what's for dinner.

Because guess who is coming with us?  My mother in law and her friend.

I just recently learned a joke about Jewish Russian Grandmas.  There was some kid who only ate chicken nuggets.  And...well, I don't remember the whole thing, but the punchline was, if you've got a Jewish Russian Grandma, don't waste her by being picky about what you eat.  That is to say, something in their genetic code requires them to make all kinds of delicious food all the frickin' time.

So not only do I have one Jewish Russian Grandma coming with me, I've got TWO.  Please, don't expect me to have any kind of sex-appeal after this weekend.  I fully anticipate being an obese blob.  Don't pretend you're not jealous.

Enjoy your weekend everyone!

THE POOL IS OPEN

So those rascally Russian contractors finished the job.  The pool is a beautiful pristine blue, and you can actually see more then an inch into the water.  Which is great because of two things: first, as everyone else in the world is mentioning today, it's effing hot; and second, I never thought it would happen so quickly. 

Involuntary pun section:

The Russians have really deserved...high..."Marx"..?  They likely got it done so fast because they were always "Russian" around so much.  So in honor of these brave contractors, "Ural" invited to come play a massive game of Sharks and Minnows.  

Ok, I'm done with the puns.  Sorry about that. 

Why Sharks and Minnows, you ask?  Because it's the best game ever invented.  Marco Polo is stupid, and not historically accurate what-so-ever.  Water Polo doesn't even allow the use of horses or mallets.  And yes, while silly races where you swim across the pool in all your clothes are fun, there's very little risk of people getting injured, which is lame.

Yes, Sharks and Minnows, people - it's the balls-to-the wall game where you'd better get your balls from the wall they're on to the other wall as fast as possible, because goddamn it, there are SHARKS in these waters.  Haven't you ever seen shark week?

"Sharks and Minnows: 1, 2, 3!!"

I used to play it back when I was a competitive swimmer in high school, and the entire team would use it as lung building exercise that was also super fun.  We'd all battle, and grapple, and beat each other silly underneath the water until people would almost pass out and drown.

Side note: I also tried to devise a re-breathing apparatus out of a series of tubes and Styrofoam cups from the concession stand.  It didn't work, and I nearly passed out and drowned a bunch of times. Come to think of it, the more times I almost passed out and drowned, the more fun I remember having.  Probably due to memory loss/hallucination due to oxygen deprivation.

However, while I'm entirely obsessed with sharks and minnows, I AM open to suggestions about what awesome pool games you all have been enjoying this summer already. 

Summer Reading List

So I'm a day late for the first day of Summer.  Meh, not my favorite season.  Hot, muggy, sweaty, sticky.  And bugs.  If you haven't noticed yet, I hate bugs.  Worst things to have been created/evolved/brought here by aliens.  Did you know that even with all of the insecticides we've created as a race, we've never been able to eradicate ONE species of bug?  We've almost killed off some of the most badass animals ever (I'm talking to you, dead Siberian tigers), but a moth?  Nope.

I think that's true. Probably is.  I heard it once, so it must be.

Anyway, since it's Summertime, and the livin's easy (especially after monday, which is the end of my sandpaper-rubbing-on-my-eyeballs summer class), I plan on reading more.  And in the spirit of school, I've compiled for you my Summer Reading list, which I desperately hope to get through.

1.  Sentimental Education by Gustave Flaubert - I'm a big French Lit fan, and a medium Flaubert fan.  I mildly enjoyed Mme Bovary, and heard Sentimental Education was a home run book.  This book has been sitting on my bedside table for a month, and I'm finally looking forward to beating the crap out of it.  Intellectually.

2.  Green Eggs and Ham by Dr. Seuss, MD - I want to buy this book so badly because my wife is kicking the pants off me in reading to Sammy.  This book is really just a proxy for all English language rhyming books for children.  See here for more details on my reading angst.

3.  Betsy and I had a Stroke - This book was written in secret by my overly dramatic grandfather.  I only just came across it because of a manic bout of family-oriented Name-Googling whose impetus was brought on because of a case study in one of my classes.  My grandpa is a bit of a gossip, so I want to read it before it permeates the family and enters the "spin-zone". 

4.  Star Wars Encyclopedia - I think the title pretty much sums up every reason to ever read this book.  They say War and Peace is the best book ever?  Psh - move over Pierre Bezukhov and your three thousand other characters - Luke Skywalker's in town.

While I'd love to add some more to this list, I realize I've really only got eight weeks, and there's lots of "Summering" to do other than being boring by reading books. For example, I've been putting off War and Peace for...well, as long as I knew it was a book. 

Are there any books you can suggest I should substitute in?  What are you reading over the Summer?  And please don't say Charles Dickens.

Anatomy of a Russian BBQ

I wanted to write a post about how to properly create the delicacy that is "Shashlik".  But with the research, all the different kinds, all the very important stipulations and rules surrounding its proper creation, I'd probably not only be writing for a week and a half straight, but I'd bore you to tears.  Because no one can make cooking meat THAT funny.  Seriously - there's a russki-rule against it.  Only slight chuckles allowed.  Belly laughs strictly forbidden.

So instead, I wanted to give you just one tiny slice into how one family prepares it, as literally EVERY family does it differently. 

And not just a little bit differently like with burgers.  You put cilantro in the ground beef, you say?  Putting butter on the bun before grilling?  Whoa - shakin' the foundation here.  You're still using beef, right?  In a circular patty?  Psh.

No, I'm talking WAY different.  For example, my family only chooses the highest quality meat: pork ass.  Apparently, my FIL thinks that the fat that's contained within that sweet swine rump soaks up the marinade so much better than anything else out there.  But other families prefer the juicy tenderness of veal or lamb or even fish. 

Sometimes I'm glad we don't live on a farm, because I could seriously imagine my FIL there in the pig pen, eyes closed and face pressed closely to the ass of the pig, and rubbing it lovingly.  Best Jew ever. 

The next most important part of my family's unique Shashlik tradition is the marinade.  Apparently, this needs to be done the night before the grill gets fired up so that the fat can sufficiently soak up the juices.  Again.  VASTLY different methods exist. My FIL describes some people who marinade with seltzer, or with yogurt, or with a crazy Milk/yogurt mix called Kefir.

My family opts for just vinegar, onions, salt and pepper.  This way the taste of swine butt can REALLY come through.  Then you're supposed to put the meat under pressure by placing a huge weight on the pot where they're marinading.  This aides in the soaking up of the juices. Don't ask me how this works.  I know it's counter intuitive.  You wouldn't squeeze the sponge to get more water in it, but apparently this is how it is with meat.

Ok, now you're ready for grilling.  No, don't even THINK of using gas.  People have been killed for using propane for shashlik.  And hands off the charcoal briquettes.  You have to use wood based charcoal.  This way it makes the meat taste as if you really just cooked it in the middle of the woods.  Never seen wood based charcoal before?  Hmm, strange.  Because it's the ONLY charcoal sold in the Grocery Store.

Oh god, I'm drooling just looking at this picture from last weekend

Notice anything strange about the skewers?  They're not some wussy round skewers purchased to cook stupid crap like eggplants or peppers.  These are home-effing-made flat skewers specially designed to sear the ass of all pigs they come into contact with.  They also double as fencing epees, though, in a pinch.  Or javelins.  Tent stakes.  Ear piercing mechanisms.  You get the idea - they're sharp.



Seriously, I'm having hunger pains just thinking about how delicious the picture looks. 

Best summer tradition ever.  The first time I ever had shashlik, they were so delicious I ate three or four pieces at once.  They got stuck in my throat and I had to lie down for thirty minutes because they wouldn't dislodge themselves.  I think it was the second time I met my wife's parents.  It was at that moment that my FIL knew I was the one for him.

Happy summer everyone, and welcome to Shashlik Country.