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DECEMBER 18: BACK ON THE SCENE OK, Christmas is here with the appropriate blend of misery, stress and joyousness that one has come to expect in our gift-obsessed consumer culture. It's been some time, I know, so this month I will ramble slightly longer than usual. Earlier this month, I actually managed to scribble down some inane thoughts about a batchelor party I attended for Nathan Smith, but neglected to post it, so I have included it below for your enlightenment and enjoyment. There is also a whole slew (or "shitload" in jackass-speak) of new material which has been slung across the virtual ether at me from all directions. See the headings below to find out of what I speak.
As I sit here watching the thick fog roll in for the second day in a row, listening to a frenetic version of Coltrane's Impressions, I think to myself that Christmas is almost here. Honestly, it is uncharacteristically nippy here in So Cal: The high today was only 62 (the average is 68). The missus and I have donned our warmest winter gear and are bracing ourselves for a long, hard winter. Speaking of winter, I recently got a real taste of it up in the Lake Tahoe region a few weeks ago for the bizatchelor party of our favorite red-headed brother, Nate, "Smitty" Smith. In full force were a) a sizable Wall, b) a squirrelly Glenn, c) a hobbling Reed and d) the starting line of Amherst's 1994 football team. Glenn and myself actually caught what is sometimes referred to simultaneously as "Freshies" and "Pow-pow" in the local parlance. We woke up after getting a solid 2 hours of sleep and opted out of the early morning booze binge breakfast and nostalgic Amherst/Williams homecoming game via digital satellite—all so we could get our early season swerve on at Alpine Meadows. Needlesstosay, a half day on the slopes turned into a full day as we carved up the mountain, careful to avoid rocks and other early season nasties. Meanwhile the boys, back at the ranch, were drinking themselves into a stupor. At around 4:00, they got a head-start on the night's festivities (with the help of a hastily recruited designated driver) and made their way to Reno, Nevada, which, in this season, is quite simply an Arctic version of Vegas. "Meet us at The Gentleman's Club" I remember them yelling at me from the static of my cell phone at the top of Alpine. No sooner had we made the one and a half hour drive to Reno and were pulling into the parking lot of The Gentleman's Club, when we noticed a sizable group of men stumbling out of the establishment. Apparently it was over and all quite amusing, by the frenzy with which the guys clammored to tell one story or another. So, for the sake of the almighty Snowboard, Glenn and I gave up the age-old tradition of throwing away good money on booze and exotic dancers [that's my story and I'm sticking to it]. We gambled for approximately an hour and a half and then drove back to Tahoe to continue the tomfoolery in the safer and less financially hazardous confines of The Hunting Lodge. Anyways, it was great fun to be up in NoCal again and seeing old fools and meeting a crew of new fools to get stupid with. To thaw myself out from the twice daily bone-chilling snow chain installation and removal required to get vehicles up the hill to the Hunting Lodge, I spent the following week in Miami for good measure. Enough with the pleasantries, on with the Caca. We have a whole slew of content this time around, peruse and enjoy at your leisure. LA STORIES MUSIC REVIEW POCKET CHANGE THE OTHER END OF NOWHERE: A MANHATTANITE'S
GUIDE TO THE OUTER BOROUGHS MISSING BOTTOMS WHAT'S NEXT? Also, look for another edition of THE OTHER END OF NOWHERE, which will take a closer look at a religious artifact warehouse in Queens. Additionally, we are fortunate to have a guest contributor next time around who has recently returned from being an observer in the recent Bosnian elections--I kid you not. His visit to Bosnia was doubly interesting this time around because it coincided with the organized chaos that was our election of 2000. SUBMISSIONS WELCOME |
