Lollipop, Lollipop, Oh Lollie, Lollie, Lollie.

You’re a lollipop!! Your known for your coolness,
for you are a trend setter. You’re a natural
leader, and are good under pressure. People
often seek you out for advice, for you have
great insight.

Which kind of candy are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Oy! I susppose this could also mean that I’m a sucker.

Thanks to LeeAnn, the Gumball, for the link.

Gut Rumbles celebrated its two-year Blogiversary on Sunday. Acidman is one helluva writer, who, on a regular basis, inspires, challenges, amuses and sometimes shocks his readers. I’ve been a daily reader for a year now, and he’s gotten this Jersey Yankee to the point where I’m ready to give grits a try. Who knows? Perhaps by this time next year I’ll be ready to try fried catfish — this, from a guy who doesn’t even like tuna fish.

Congratulations, Rob.

Michael Jackson – new religion and a new look.

Thanks to Marolyn.

Tonight I attended a going away party at the American Legion Post for a soldier who will be deployed to Iraq shortly after the first of the year. There are probably countless such parties taking place on any given day in the United States. What made this party a bit different is that the soldier who is on his way to Iraq is a friend who was, as they say, “in the shit” 34 years ago in Vietnam.

My friend Lou was a grunt (Airborne) in Vietnam in 1969 and managed to come home in one piece. Lou remained in the Army Reserve (and maintained his jump status) thereafter. He is now a Sergeant First Class (E-7), fifty-five years old, in much better shape than the rest of us, and is off to fight another war and earn a star for his Combat Infantryman’s badge.

The party was attended by almost exclusively by Vietnam-Era vets, many of whom were “in country” and more than a few of whom also spent a year “in the shit.” The music of choice tonight consisted of songs from the sixties and evoked memories of similar parties many years ago when we were young and the war in Vietnam was white hot and seemingly without end.

Lou, who is a soft-spoken, no nonsense guy, characteristically said of his deployment, “It’s my job, and I intend to do it.” The young men who will be deployed with Lou lucked out, as he is a good man, a dedicated soldier, a patient teacher, and a guy who has already “done that.”

I wish him Godspeed.

Christmas at the House by the Parkway was indescribably exhausting, but also indescribably great. TJ and husband arrived in the morning (he with some unidentified virus that had buckled his knees a couple days ago and she with a newly acquired cold), and everyone exchanged gifts – lots of gifts. It’s a good country.

They won in the creativity department. TJ sneaked off to Café Press and had some things made that bear the “Parkway Rest Stop” Logo, which I thought was really clever. Of course, wearing the shirt will ensure that I will have to try to explain what a blog is to the uninitiated. (“No, it’s not a ‘blob,’ dammit.”) TJ’s husband had scoured the internet for a Hopalong Cassidy Poster that referred to the “Bar 20,” and found a great one for the movie “The Bar 20 Rides Again.” Its significance is that “The Bar 20” is another name for the “Usual Suspects,” the gang with whom we regularly raise hell. Besides, as a kid, I loved “Hoppy.” I even know the name of his horse. Do you? But I digress.

Not long after the wrapping paper was cleaned up and the mountains of food that had been prepared over the prior 48 hours was placed in the warming oven, came the onslaught of friends and family. As in past years, I spent most of the day standing in a corner of the kitchen making drinks (this is a drinking crowd), assisted by good friend, Anal-Retentive Ken.

The preferred drink of the day was apple martinis, served “up,” with a slice of Granny Smith apple and the rim of the glass coated with a mixture of cinnamon and sugar. A half hour in, and already damned near half of a half gallon bottle of vodka was gone. Did I mention that this is a drinking crowd? I also made a bunch of cosmopolitans, which were carried out of the kitchen to whom, I’m not quite sure. Because I love to shop in liquor stores, this is the kind of house where you truly can name your poison. Chances are, I’ll have it. It’s a good country.

Lest you think that all we do is drink, it was also a day of food, rich, calorie-laden food, too much food. It’s a good country.

First came the appetizers, which consisted of a cheese board and hot appetizers brought over by TJ (asparagus and cheese baked in little rolled dough things) and the Original Bill (pepperoni bread and stuffed mushrooms).

Then came the serious food, a ridiculous amount of food, decidedly international fare, including baked ziti, and sausage with peppers and onions (both, New Jersey staples), kielbasa and sauerkraut and gowumpkees (spelled phonetically) i.e. cabbage rolls, reflecting about half of my ethnicity and all of Mrs. PRS’s. There was also a Christmas ham, fried chicken, piles of cheese, homemade potato salad and macaroni salad with Jewish rye, Russian rye and Italian rolls. Our neighbors (who are Jewish and always spend Christmas day with us) showed up with a huge plate of genuine homemade latkes (potato pancakes), which were to die for. It’s a good country.

The Main Feed was followed by a dazzling array of homemade cookies. As in the past, my niece stole the cookie show with a tray of very fancy cookies that would rival anything one would ever see on the Food Channel. The chocolate mousse cups (chocolate mousse in a homemade chocolate cup) should probably be entered in some kind of national cookie contest. I assume there are such things.

Of course, the drinking continued throughout the food thing, as did the scullery work, ensuring that I (and Loyal Friend, Anal Retentive Ken) stayed on our feet and working (and having the occasional drink) the entire time.

This was the first year that Bill the Ham (as in ham radio) a/k/a “Tall Bill,” “New Bill,” and “Joe Cigar” made an appearance. Of course, he came bearing and sharing some very excellent cigars. He also served as my “refrigerator guy,” a job I suspect he will keep for future Christmases.

Despite Herculean efforts to “clean as you go” (as the signs “advise” in Army kitchens), when the last person left, the place bore the aftermath of a great party. The cleanup would just have to wait until the next day, because by that time, each of my feet felt as if it had a toothache.

So, today was spent slowly (verrrrry slowly) cleaning up the debris, and taking lots of reading and coffee breaks. No television, no radio and no music. After yesterday, a sustained period of relative quiet was nice. The only part of the cleanup that still remains is the returning of some furniture to its regular place. Once that’s done, the place will look as if the party had never happened.

But happen it did, and it was wonderful. It is indeed a good country.

MERRY CHRISTMAS

My wish is that you all have a wonderful Christmas and a happy, healthy, safe and prosperous new year. I hope that my wish and all your wishes come true.

Make yourself comfortable and check out The Waves and the Night at Unbillable Hours. It is an excellent piece of writing.

This site definitely gets blogrolled.

What Classic Movie Are You?

Thanks to LeeAnn for the Link. I’m gonna make her an offer she can’t refuse.

After spending some time on BlogSpot while his regular site was being unscrambled (sort of like the Apollo 13 crew’s use of the lunar module), Rodger went back to his original site. Adjust your bookmarks and blogrolls accordingly.

Conspicuous consumption – The generally stupid purchase of a particular item, largely because it is expensive and will serve as a demonstration to others of the purchaser’s shallowness and insecurity one’s financial well being. Owning such items is a wonderful way to show the world that you are a flaming asshole with too gott-damned much money person of good taste and refinement.

Here are a few shopping suggestions:

One can dazzle one’s friends with a bottle of Krug Clos du Mesnil Champagne, 1988 at $325 per bottle, or, on a lesser scale, with a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue Label Scotch at $185 per bottle (as if most, if not all of your whiskey’d up buddies would know either of these beverages from cheap bubbly or bar scotch).

If fashion is your thing, the gentlemen should consider a Gucci shirt, which retails for $400 (on sale for $299)and then consider getting their farookin’ heads examined. Hip women might be interested in a Gucci handbag for $1,000 (on sale for $849), or a pair of Gucci boots for $2,900 (on sale for a mere $1,849), or they might consider a brain transplant.

Being a person who occasionally has his head in his ass of most discriminating tastes, I am particularly intrigued with thought of purchasing a couple Partagas 150 Don Ramon Cigars $100.00 each. Then again, I may have had a particularly bad day in the mental capacity department. I can only imagine what a jerk my friends would think I am how truly impressed my friends will be as I dramatically light this 7 inch, 52 ring gauge waste of about $96 beauty and announce that in only cost me a mere hundred bucks. They’ll probably all want to shove the cigar where the sun don’t shine all envy me.

Sounds pretty friggin’ dumb great to me.

I wonder if the Partagas 150 Don Ramons come with a complimentary psychiatric examination matches.