Either Christmas snuck up on him this year or he does not get along with his neighbors that decorate before Thanksgiving

Something I overheard while walking Sadie on Christmas day, before she tried to roll on a worm:

small boy: Dad, whatcha doin?
dad: Oh, just putting up some decorations for Christmas.

Beethoven Christmas music

Isn't it funny that no matter how many gifts you buy or how many cookies you bake or how many snowflakes may fall it just does not feel like Christmas until, while sipping hot cider with your neighbors and conversing with a toothless lumberjack from Wisconsin, you pick out a pine tree and put it in your living room.

fruit stains? what the deuce?

Yesterday, I started reading The Complete Sherlock Holmes V. 1. It is very thick, about the size of a paver brick and I haven't read anything this big since 2201 Fascinating Facts (both fascinating and factual). I am only on page 15 but I was so engaged yesterday that I did not even realize I boarded the wrong el train and somehow (OK, I know how. Sometimes I forget to think) and ended up in Evanston. Whoops.

In these 15 pages I have two observations. First, we take for granted the science and mystery involved in DNA testing. Not only is it integral in our criminal justice process but now you can store your DNA for less than the price of an iPod and eventually test it to figure out genetically why you are so odd to have stored your DNA and tested it in the first place.

But, in the case of Sherlock Holmes, he was simply ecstatic to have figured out how to chemically distinguish a blood stain from a rust stain. To quote Sherlock: "Criminal cases are continually hinging that one point...are they blood stains, or mud stains, or rust stains, or fruit stains, or what are they? That is one questions that has puzzled many...now we have the Sherlock Holmes's test and there will no longer be any difficulty."

Which leads me to wonder, how many times did the farmer tell the judge: "Well, you see, we were just a mashin up some berries next to that there rusty nail, me and my wife ya see, and she got a big ol fruit stain right there by her heart, right be for b'fore, ya know, she passed out and got dead"

Secondly, our friend and dear neighbor Adam (whom he and his wife Carrie we surprisingly do not write nearly enough about but let me quickly paraphrase: wine, cards, laughter, 2-4 nights a week) has a phrase that he likes to say instead of cursing (good boy Adam) and I have always wondered where it came from. And, now I know, it is Sherlock Holmes! Literatures most cunning and beloved detective. To set the scene, Watson is desperately trying to convince Sherlock the importance of knowing basic solar system facts. Sherlock, however, could really care less: "What is it the deuce to me? You say that we go round the sun. If we went round the moon it would not make a pennyworth of difference to me or to my work"

What the deuce, indeed.

God loves the Lions. Duh. But of course. Finally

the Lions have been called God's team, which I suppose is one way to explain Detroit's 6-2 start -- just one game behind Green Bay and Dallas for best record in the NFC.

Detroit is known as "Hockeytown," but the Lions are truly the soul of the city. If the Lions make the playoffs -- which would be their first postseason appearance since 1999 -- or heaven forbid they smell a Super Bowl, it would be one of the biggest sports stories in Michigan history and easily dwarf the championships won by the Red Wings and Pistons.

This is an article discussing John Kitna's faith, QB of the Lions. About freakin time divine intervention fell upon the lowly Lions.

during lunch

Crazy Ninjas



Crazy Carnies








Chicago Bulls

It really does not matter what I do during lunch and I would guess you could care less but, like Dooce, I am going to have a small child one day and when I do I will take my little girl by the hand and say "Esther, one time your daddy saw crazy carnival people and the Chicago Bulls in the same week. See, I have a blog to prove it. Now go fly your space car"

I walk by 5 Starbucks on my way to work each morning

Starbucks' closest competitor in the coffeehouse market, Caribou Coffee, is just one-twenty-fifth its size. Every 10 weeks, Starbucks opens as many stores as the total number of Caribou outlets.
- Fast Company (Nov. 07)

pay whatcha want...again

Following the lead of Radiohead's "it's up to you" payscale, Paste Magazine is leaving it up the readers to decide how much their magazine is worth.

For two weeks, anyone signing up for a new subscription or a renewal can name their own price for a year's worth of Paste (11 issues plus 11 CDs), with a minimum price of USD 1. "We were curious to know what our customers thought we were worth. And what better way to find out, than to let them tell us?" explains Paste President/Publisher Tim Regan-Porter. "While it's certainly a bit unconventional, we also see it as a chance to get our product in the hands of people who could become lifelong fans. It's been our experience that once people become familiar with Paste, they turn into loyal readers."

While this may have been 'unconventional' a month ago, being second behind Radiohead is like being the second kid in middle school to wear the new Abercrombie "let's see how many holes we can stick in our pants before we call them shorts" pants. You're still cool...just a little less cool.

Ok, you're not cool at all because you're wearing stupid holey pants but you get my point.

I just hope Paste didn't underestimate the overwhelming power of the Dutch gene in the face of a deal.

she's an only dog

no book for you

Here's an interesting article from the NY Times comparing German and American book selling practices:

In the United States chain stores have largely run neighborhood bookshops out of business. Here in Germany, there are big and small bookstores seemingly on every block. The German Book Association counts 4,208 bookstores among its members. It estimates that there are 14,000 German publishers. Last year 94,716 new titles were published in German. In the United States, with a population nearly four times bigger, there were 172,000 titles published in 2005.

Germany’s book culture is sustained by an age-old practice requiring all bookstores, including German online booksellers, to sell books at fixed prices. Save for old, used or damaged books, discounting in Germany is illegal.

Fascinating, right? We could examine all the different supply and demand curves, do some regression analysis, utilize all sorts of economics tools and come up with a great economic algorithm and do away with all the big box book stores!

Wow, I'm such a nerd. Here's a photo of Brett Favre holding his hands up in the air.

update: obviously I cannot recall all of my economics training but if you would like a new enterprise content management platform to support your web application development as well as create unifying information architecture and taxonomy structures then, shoot, give me a buzz.

crazy bugs

On Monday nights, Brooke attends graduate classes at UIC. What this means is a: my wife is far smarter than I and b: I need to cook for myself, something I am very bad at.

So I had Crazy Bugs.











Thanks to Tracy and Brooke and Whole Foods these were a great "my excellent chef of a wife is busy learning and I'm here watching Chuck but getting a little hungry" meal.

And let me tell you, these little bugs are super crazy. It looks like there is a caterpillar, a stink bug, and some sort of bat...the craziest bug ever.

(click the comic to zoom in)

stretcherson

So, that last post is what happens when I do not have Brooke edit my thoughts before I click 'post'. World Wide Web word throw-up.

Here is a picture of Sadie stretching. Enjoy.

geneva's labrynth

Over the weekend, Brooke and I had a little get away in Geneva, IL. "Little" because Geneva is hardly a stone throw away from the city and we only spent Sunday night there. It was a warm weekend in Chicagoland and I'm sure the same can be said elsewhere. So hot that I am sure Al Gore was somewhere in heaven smiling down knowing he has been right all along about this global warming thing.

What? Al Gore isn't dead or in heaven? He's not God? Well he sure had me fooled. Friends with Leo, won and Oscar, doesn't have to fight that Bin Laden guy. If not God then a very smart guy. Or a frog. Does anybody else see that? Just me? Huh. I really think he looks like a frog.

The first thing Brooke and I did when getting to lovely Geneva was find ourselves a place to eat. And the first thing I did there? Spill beer all over Brooke. Check that. Two beers. All over my beautiful wife. BUT, as the heavens and Al Gore may have it this weekend was my birthday and she HAD to keep loving me. Not that Brooke wouldn't have kept loving me. I have a very loving and caring wife but boy does the birthday thing help. Especially when there isn't an extra pair of blue jeans to change into when yours have been soaked with beer.

Geneva, albeit a cute little town, needs a little help in the diversity of their shops category. It is impossible to count the number of antique and trinket shops. Like the jar of beans at a county fair; an impossible guess and whatever you do guess more than likely you're going to be off by about 200. One shop, The Little Traveler (please click this link...though it hardly does the place justice), was the cake topper of all cake toppers. 36 rooms of stuff including a rooms pf hats, lamps, flowers, toys, food. Like a real life Dr. Seuss creation. Brooke and I were blending in like regular tourists until we started playing hide and seek.

Ok, we didn't play hide and seek but I thought about it and one day when we have little ones running about I will go back there and play the best game of hide and seek ever. Way better than those we currently play with our dog. She's such a bad hider.

UPDATE
Al Gore won the Nobel Peace Prize today and is anybody else not surprised? He's invincible. Probably disguised as a Earth loving, frog looking, Leo friending Terminator from the future. Next step, I suppose, is to not lose the White House again making him a mere mortal like the rest of us.

conversation over a burger

My cousin Mike is in town from Denver, CO. As I am typing this he is running a marathon. Yes, a marathon. What a juxtaposition that is. Me, typing. Him, running freakin far.

It was great to see him again as it has been over a year. We talked a lot and walked a lot. Here is a snippet of our conversation. Careful because you may confuse us for a couple of middle schoolers.

J: "Are you on this facebook thing? My wife just signed up and she likes it a lot and it's actually kind of cool"
M: "No, I'm not on it either, but I check out other peoples accounts ."
J: "So, why aren't you on it?"
M: "Why aren't YOU on it?"
J: "Not really sure. Just not."
M: "Yeah, me too."
J: "Hmmmm."
M: "I'll sign up if you sign up"

lots of words

Photos = lots of words. Some are obvious while others can be subtle. I am going to take this time, if you allow, to break down this photo. I may not end up with a thousand words (trust me, I won't. You can keep reading) but let's get to a few.

First, we went to a Ryan Adams show. He played for 2 1/2 hours and did not throw a hissy fit like the MN show. Tracy was there too. She's taking the picture after scoring a 13th row ticket from some girl at the last minute.

Second, I am wearing my Le Loup t shirt. Check this band out. We know the bearded guitar player through our neighbors and they are fantastic live. I really like this tee and wear it a lot. Every weekend. Twice. Don't worry, it's been washed. Once. Plus, I'm married. Brooke has to love me even when I stink. It's written in the vows. Between the I and the Do. "I will love you even when you wear the same shirt over and over again. Even if it has birds on it or giraffes. Or holes. DO.

Third, the show rocked.

Fourth, (and I'm getting long winded at this point, right?) Tracy signed Brooke up with a Facebook account the very next day. Now, I'm not one to be all facebookin and myspacin and never thought my wife would be. But, she is. One day, we're standing out in front of the Chicago Theater all smiley and facebookless and the next, as we're cooking dinner, the computer finds its way into the kitchen, next to me cutting the onions, tears streaming down my face "hey, can you check my facebook? because somebody may have written on my wall."

I've lost my wife to the 'puter.

while watching the bears and lions game (go lions!)

Two things brought me to Chicago. First, there was this pretty girl with curly brown hair. Second, there was this thing about the Michigan economy not being too great. This recent salon.com article, written by an ex-Michigander, gives a picture of what many already know: times are tough in Motor City and what the state needs (besides a budget apparently) is an industry to replace the one drowning in the middle of the Great Lakes.

Michigan did not become great because of the auto industry. The auto industry became great because of a Michigander, Henry Ford. The state still produces creative people. Google founder Larry Page, a Ford of the 21st century, grew up in East Lansing, and studied at the University of Michigan, whose main function seems to be giving young Michiganders the credentials to get the hell out of Michigan. Page went to California, but as a sop to his home state, Google is opening a 1,000-employee office in Ann Arbor.

(I've moved back to Michigan three times since college. My last attempt lasted a year -- until I was laid off. I now live on the North Side of Chicago, which is so crowded with my fellow economic refugees that we call it "Michago.")

Lost animals, it's big news in Chicago.

Saderson is not lost. I bet right now she is either sleeping or chewing apart the couch.

Let's hope sleeping.

i get a workout carrying the groceries home

While watching Tim Gunn's Guide to Style:

b: You may have been able to be a model.

j: What? Really? I HIGHLY doubt that. I'm not really the pretty one here.

b: Yeah, I think you could have.

j: Ummm, have you seen this face? Not to mention have you seen me with my shirt off? Not really the ideal model body.

b: True, but maybe Calvin Klein...you know, they like those skinny, malnourished looking guys.

a bio major at one point, now i sit in front of a 'puter

Every once in a while new breakthroughs in science shock and change the world. The discovery of DNA...not bad. Sending some people to the moon?...fueled many a childs dreams. This week, though, a new science breakthrough came about that will change lives, keep the earth a bit cleaner, and probably even cure some small forms of cancer and make you more pretty and have bigger muscles and get girls or boys. whatever.

click

on repeat

The National - "Apartment Story"
from the album Boxer

a few things

First, there was a race car in my office building today. A full blown Indy race car just sitting in the lobby with some cones around it. I am not really sure how it got there or why it was there or even whose it was but it was there. I might try that with my bike. Ride right in and put some cones around it.

Second, there was a guy playing Christmas music on his saxophone.

Third, Brooke got popped in the nose by our dog pretty good. Brooke was cleaning up Saderson's toys ('cause she's messy), Sadie saw her pick up a bone, got excited and BAM! a wicked right hook to the face. There is a bruise and some bleeding but everything looks ok now.

Fourth, Sadie did not punch me.

And last but CERTAINLY not least...Tracy starts winding her way back to the windy city tomorrow!

the nicest day of the year

good song, great video

Nearly as great as my shiny blue outfit dance moves.

PS. This is Feist. Song is 1 2 3 4, album is The Reminder

an excuse to wear my headlamp around for the night

The other day it rained a lot in Chicago. The winds that came blew a lot too. They blew with intensity seen in hurricanes and our power went out. We bought some ice to save our condiments, went to dinner across the street because oddly enough they had power, and sweat like exercise as we tried to sleep. Things could have been a lot worse though. For the last two days downed trees and smashed cars have caught the attention of our sleepy little village. Neighbors step around the damage and say to others "boy, hope that wasn't your car." Thankfully, none of them were ours but I can only guess that if I still owned my Corolla it would have been just my luck to come home from work and find it smashed beneath a house or something.

sweet summer

I can't believe it....my summer officially concludes on Sunday. It has been a wonderful time of relaxation and rejuvenation. But alas it is back to the real world of early mornings and busy schedules. So I say goodbye to sleeping in, enjoying coffee on the deck, walking with Sadie, and not worrying about much of anything. Here are reflections on my sweet, memorable summer.

Taylor St. Fest

Pww, Pww... Eucher Nights!

Family Vacation in SoCal

Picnic and Fire Works on the 4th

Michael Turns 21!

Anniversary Dinner at Tru

Sadie has a cousin, Nikki's Lulu

Movie in Grant Park with our Small Group

Architecture Tour on the River

Summer isn't complete without the Cubbies

Swimming Sadie in Michigan

Michigan Sunsets

DINKOC

Double Income, No Kids, One Car. This is who Brooke and I are now. We sold my Corolla last night and it is kind of a strange feeling. What if Brooke is gone doing those things that she does and all of a sudden I have need to drive to Canada so I can watch some hockey? I'll be stuck here in Illinois. Hockeyless.

The guy who bought my car came by last night at 10:30, gave it a test drive, knocked on the metal a little bit, kicked the tires, said some things to his friend and bought it. It was dark and rainy and if you ask me not the most ideal time to buy a car. But, this is the same way we sold our last car. Late at night. All wet and rainy and it sold. Strangest thing. Maybe its Brooke and I that are the strange ones but all I know is that guy is in for a suprise when the steering wheel pops right off.

dizziness and squeaky toys may not be a healthy combination

Our dog has allergies. For real. Sneezy, itchy allergies. At least this is the vets best guess. He doesn't really know for sure but did prescribe us some doggy allergy medicine that included some very helpful information. First, Sadie apparently has a full name:

Sadie F. Dog. At least this is how the Walgreens guy and the bottle identifies our dog.

For short: Ms. Dog. And starting now I will be going by Mr. Person.

Secondly, some very helpful warnings:


Driving cars? Come now, she has paws. And very short legs. This makes it tough to reach the pedals.

Dangerous machinery? As long as Sadie doesn't pick up woodworking or glass blowing I think we'll be ok.

Dizziness? This might cause pukyness and that might just suck. Especially when she's drinking all that alcohol.

jesus is my homeboy

There are a lot of things people do to differentiate themselves from the masses. Walking around Chicago one will see people with mohawks, piercings all over their faces, witty shirts that say "I Put the Stud in Study" and so on. There is one problem though. Try as they may there is always somebody else with a taller mohawk, more holes in their face, and stupider t shirts.

Today I made a discovery. If you want to be different from every other person in the city...wash your own car. In the street. With a very long hose. I could hear them as they walked by "Dear me...do you see that Betty? I think that young man is...dare I say? Warshing his own vehicle? I don't think I've seen such a thing since the Carter administration." (for whatever reason, in my head these people have very proper southern accents). Then, of course, you've got the moron who says "give you 5 bucks to wash mine"...to which I reply "give you 10 bucks never to wear a shirt asking me if I've Got my Tickets to the Gun Show yet."

number one goal: stop renting

I just switched jobs and for the past two weeks I have been in intensive sales training. I now work for an IT consulting company in the city and had a lot to learn. Each day began with a quiz and the two weeks ended with a presentation. It felt like finals week and the last thing I wanted to do was say something to the internet. But finals week is done and now I get to do real work and blog again....right after an episode of The Hills.

Sometime last week I read a post on dooce.com about how much time it took her to hang her picture frames straight. This got me to thinking about the apartment Brooke and I live in. If you haven't been here, or even if you have, you may not know that our three flat was built by tiny little cross eyed elves. Leadman Elf, who was probably used to building trees and baking cookies, looked at a bubble level, tossed it to the side and said "eh, let's just eyeball it"...his little team of elfs all carrying little tiny elf hammers in little tiny elf toolbelts shouted in unison "what a great idea!" Photos are impossible to hang straight...I readjust a photo above the coffee pot every freakin morning. Dinner glasses look like they'll slide off the table and our balance is always out of equilibrium so when we step outside we just tip right over. It's so embarrassing.

i once hit a bird with a snowball, felt terrible all day

Last week, Brooke and I celebrated our two year anniversary by eating a meal at Tru. The dinner itself was an experience. The staff moved about the dining room like a dance. The plates were picked up at the same time. Silverware was gone together. Two people poured water simultaneously. We order off a fixed menu, were greeted as Mr. and Mrs., and nobody asked if I was 19.

This led us to being very hesitant to ask what squab was. Hmmmm. Squab. We racked our brains and the best we could come up with was some sort of bird. A duck? A crow? Platypus? Wrong. SO wrong. The next day I Google searched squab and here is what we learned:

Squab:

A young (about 4 weeks old) domesticated pigeon that has never flown and is therefore extremely tender. (link)

Holy crap we ate a baby pigeon. Not ONLY a baby pigeon but one that never had a chance to feel the breeze under it's wings. You can imagine how bad my wife, a vegetarian until recently, felt! Baby pigeon. Dead. In our bellies.

sundog

i walked the dog at noon today

For the past week I have been between jobs; meaning, I've gotten a taste of summer vacation again. I go to bed late (10:30, wild), wake up late (8am, crazy) and watch morning TV with Brooke (this should read "I watch Oprah"). It worked out well then that my family could come into town this past weekend. We watched the Cubbies win, ate some sushi at Coast, grilled steaks, golfed and went on an architecture tour. A tour is an enjoyable way to spend a summer afternoon and me, coming from Hudsonville, am still in awe of the skyscrapers. I grew up climbing (and falling) out of big trees. Those were tall but can't compare to the forest I live in now.

To top it all off, my neighbors picked up my copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Sunday. I've had my nose in the book since and am almost finished and by almost finished I mean I have over 200 pages left.

Holy crap this is a long book.

in the golf course club house

Blond Teen Clerk Girl: "OK, that'll be $$$ for two...oh wait, unless hey how old are you?"

Me. The married 25 year old: "Excuse me?"

"Are you 19?"

"What?? 19?"

"Yeah, if you're 19 then you get a discount"

"Oh come on. Ok. 19. Sure."

"Nooooo, I bet you're not 19...are you 20? You must be 20? Yeah, 20."

"Sure. 20. Do I get a discount at 20?"

"No, only 19. Teens only."

"Ok, I'm 19"

"Nooooo, you must be 20. You look 20, not 19."

gotham city

Brooke and I, as we were minding our business after Michael's birthday dinner, ran into BATMAN!!! For real. Well, not Batman per se but his BATMOBILE!!! And the Gotham Police Department. Then, the director saw me and said "Son, Batman could not make it today and we need you to stand in for him, drive his BATMOBILE!!! and wear his belt of gadgets." I get this all the time from superhero movie directors and it is getting so old. I've really got to lose these rippling muscles.

decembawists

Several years ago Brooke, Tracy and I were riding in a car and I popped in a cd by a newer band called the Decemberists. I likely picked this up via a Pitchfork recommendation and enjoyed what I heard. Story-teller lyrics with a unique old world sound. The girls, however, found a "flaw" that kept them from liking it immediately: the lead singer Colin Meloy has a real tough time saying his "r's". Distracting to some and endearing to others. I always thought that if other bands with far less talent could hit it big then a little thing like the letter r shouldn't be a road block.

Last night Brooke and I met Michael, Caitlin and Alex at Millennium Park for a free show featuring (take a guess....come on, one guess)... the Decemberists! playing with the Grant Park Orchestra. Brooke and I arrived a full 40 minutes early only to find every teen and hipster within 30 miles had shown up way before us. We crawled our way to the very back and with not a patch of empty grass to be found plopped our blanket down on the cement. The music started and since we were halfway to Indiana we had no chance of actually seeing the Decemberists but the music was wonderful and even a little bit of rain couldn't cast a gloomy cloud over the pleasant sounds of a symphony mixing with indie folk.

Hipster Heaven



Umbella ella ella


Hipster Heaven Part II

beach bum

Did you know we have a dog? No? Well, we do. And here she is. At the beach.

where's waldo?

sadie swims!

I just spent a little over a week in Holland, Michigan at my parent's fabulous beach side retreat. I delight in the quiet, natural sounds of Michigan. We spend lazy days reading, lounging in the sun, walking the beach, cooking, and this year swimming with Sadie. She has really taken to the water but is not what you would call a natural in the water. She has reinvented the way that dogs swim, her preferred method is a cross between walking and paddling. If the water is too deep to touch the bottom she frantically swims back to shore. As her back legs walk on the bottom her front paws paddle, or maybe you want to call it splash, at the surface. Regardless, we had a great time playing with her!

chicago bike messenger

This summer I brought my old mountain bike to the city. I've done some riding putsing around in neighborhoods, picking up groceries, down the lakefront and once straight down Michigan Ave during rush hour. I absolutely hate roller coasters but riding a bike in the midst of yellow taxis and bad Chicago drivers was quite a thrill (yes mom, I wore a helmet). It's the closest I'll ever come to being a bike messenger like this guy Josh Korby...originally linked from Gapers Block, one of my favorite Chicago blogs.

Crain's Business Entrepreneurs in Action: Need For Speed

the smells of my commute

Here's my commute. In the morning I start at the green and end at the red.


Right here, it smells like chocolate. My guess? Chocolate factory.


Here? It smells like bread. Like we just drove right into an Auntie Ann's.


Here here and here? Smells real bad.