We make holes in teeth!

Friday, March 17, 2006

I am a Weak Dog

No offense to the dogs out there, of course. But I am weak. I could not keep my pledge for the month of March. The pledge was given as a token to my wife, who commented that the frequency of a particular activity was possibly going a tad overboard last month. Crazy, I thought, until she was able to prove it to me. Or rather, she was able to threaten me with proof, which was just as good because it was better to back down than to face the sad reality she was claiming. I vowed that for the month of March, I would refrain from this activity.

What might this activity be, you ask? Beer. Not drinking, mind you. My wife doesn't seem to care about the drinking. It's the buying. The astute reader out there might observe it's pretty much impossible to drink beer if you don't buy it. This...well, this is true. But, again, I'm not going to bring this up to the wife because she would once again threaten me with evidence, something I can't possibly refute.

Last month, I apparently spend $200 on beer. When the wife pointed this out, casually, and suggested that I had a problem, I said she was nuts. No, it can't be true, I objected. Sure, I had gone nuts and spend $100 the day before the baby shower weekend. And yes, I spend $40 up in Massachusetts when we went to the liquor store. But they were both special occasions. And besides, that's not $200. Ah yes, she said, but you had another beer purchase for $50 last month as well.

Not willing to run the risk of having $200 of receipts shown to me, I conceded, promising to not buy beer for a month. Besides, she asked, how much beer do you have in the fridge downstairs? Meekly, I admitted about 75 when I counted a few days later. So it's not that I have a beer drinking problem. I have a beer buying problem. There's just so much good stuff out there right now that I find it impossible to not grab more than I can possibly drink in a reasonable time. It's a weakness, a sickness, a disease in fact.

This morning over breakfast I announced I was going to break. Hell, it's St. Patrick's day, whatever that ultimately means. Apparently I am 1/8th Irish, coming from a long line of beer drinking O'Zurawskis. So after work, I drove to the local liquor store to see what they had in store. I was tempted by the Dogfish Head ApriHop, but decided against it because I've given their stuff plenty of run and frankly it sounds goofy. Instead, I decided on a 6 pack of Sierra Nevada's Bigfoot Barleywine Style Ale and a big bottle of Victory V-Saison. I have no idea why.

Both of these beers are out of my comfort zone. I picked up the Sierra because I read the 2006 edition just came out and I wanted to try it. I picked up the Saison because I'm intrigued by the style, even though I've never had it. The sad part is that this is just another brick in my problem wall. You would think that I would have rushed home and put it all in the fridge, except for the one to drink while watching college basketball on Friday night. The sad reality is that I put the Saison next to the fridge with all the other big bottles and specialty (read: non 6 pack) beer. The Bigfoot went in because it was cold.

The fact is that I probably won't even drink tonight. Beth is coming over in a little bit and we're going out to celebrate her birthday and my wife's last day at work. By the time we get home I might have a single beer, watch 30 minutes of some random game, then go to bed nice and early because I have to go to a child preparation class at 8:00 tomorrow morning, which is the new lingo for Lamaze, or however you spell it. Maybe that's why I felt the need to go buy beer. You would too if you came home from work on the 2nd day of March Madness, went to dinner without watching any games, then spend the bulk of the 3rd day of March Madness learning how to help your wife breath.

Thursday, March 16, 2006

God Bless You

When strung together, three of the most inane words in the English language: God bless you. A woman sat next to me on the train today and at some point sneezed. I offered her a token, "bless you," the god part being left out because I am a heathen godless bastard. Still, I offered the subdued and nominal greeting for her sneeze and she offered a subdued nominal reply of thanks in return. Why do I do this?

This is something ingrained in our society. If you sneeze, people bless you. We're no longer in a culture where we seek blessings from some deity to assure that one person's sneeze is not another's untimely demise. At least those of us in the blue states aren't. Yet we continue this absurd greeting in a society where eye contact with strangers is considered patently rude.

It's stupid, but I can't stop it. When someone sneezes I feel compelled to say something regardless. Does anything come of it? No. Do I feel better about myself? No. Does the person think better of me for saying something? Doubtful. This is one of those useless societal norms which I can't manage to get myself out of. Hey, with friends it's one thing. But total strangers? What's the point. I have no idea.

Monday, March 13, 2006

This is Just Ridiculous

Won't you tell me. Where have all the good times gone?

The world is a cruel, cruel place.

Accommodation in aviemore