Blog
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AE/DC
Some Highlights/Notes from Easter 2013 trip to D.C.:
Emily’s there… not Photoshopped! - Renaissance Washington – 999 9th Street is a cool address, conveniently located to Union Station and National Mall, and good coffee. 666 6th Street does not exist; I looked.
- Tour of Capitol. Winthrop and Sammy Adams statues. Our bad tour guide was no match for this impressive building. Boehner’s door was open. Apparently getting the coolest office means you face a steady stream of peasants; that’s why the Democrats and Republicans trade off the majority.
- Death march to Founding Farmers (Capitol to circa Foggy Bottom) was well worth it! Walked up past the South side of the White House and the soccer games between out-of-shape competitors. Must research the Aviation cousin, Last Word… lime instead of lemon; I would have ordered one, but I noticed it too late. Kickass beer = Backhanded Compliment IPA.
Kites over National Mall - Good shrimp but bad host at tapas place with weird jumping children mural behind the bar (and weird yarned-up children mural on wall). Long live (or die and become tapas!) the delicious, world famous, black-footed, pink-assed, always smiling Iberic pig! Emily got us a table; I would either still be waiting or have perished, as I took Mr. 25 Minutes at his word. We did not leave a positive impression with the Chinatown-based Black Panthers. They insisted on the destruction of our entire race, but I thought our search for a restaurant or my yellow shirt rather too benign for such a penalty.
Looking South past Andy Jackson! - Met Nicole and Dan for brunch at the Old Ebbitt Grill (get pork stuffed waffles next time!). Saw Ford’s Theater, North side of the White House, Washington Monument (closed from earthquake damage), Sherman (couldn’t find any statue of Lee), WWII Memorial, Reflection Pool, Lincoln Memorial, Korean War Memorial, Jefferson Memorial, kites on National Mall, Smithsonian American History Museum, and National Archives (just made it in… second to last in line with Sergeant “this is it for today… come back tomorrow at 10AM” — need to mail sandwich board to National Archives.), determined giant, famous red horse overrated, all in one day… all walking… no time for lunch. Syracuse makes Final Four, but not without my help. Did not make it to Arlington National Cemetery or the Vietnam Memorial this trip. Cuban dinner with waitress who said, “sorry I’m late, but don’t worry, I put more rum in your mojito and the other drink that you can’t pronounce anyway.”
- Newseum was much better than expected. Great 911 exhibit and Pulitzer prize photos. The vulture/child race photo is haunting. Damn you Good Stuff Eatery for being closed on Sunday! Squeezed in Supreme Court, Smithsonian Air and Space, Smithsonian Natural History, but they were very crowded on Easter. Miniature parcels of Asian deliciousness for dinner, with a side of incredibly bad techno/trance music.
- One for one flying standby on a sold out flight! One for two trying to leave Thrifty Rent-a-place-to-park-your-car without paying!
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Abby Releases Single – Toast F
Click on the play button below to hear “Toast F” by Sweet Abby M a.k.a. Wicked Skinny Slice o’ Spaghetti. The down arrow allows you to save the file; it makes a BOSS ringtone!
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Dear Santa
I want these as my next pair of glasses…
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Still stumped?
Still don’t know what to get Andy for
Christmashis birthday? There’s still time to order extreme tastiness with dual sides of win and wow! -
Jackson emails Santa
Date: Sun, 14 Dec 2012 15:37:36 -0500
To: santa@northpole.com
From: Jackson Moore <jman@destructionchaos.org>
Subject: Whistleblower Protection————————————————-
What’s that damn wifi password again? Hi Santa,
Sorry to email at what must be a particularly busy time of year for you and the tiny northern Foxconn elves, but I feel the need to bring certain developments to your attention in order to clear up some understandable misconceptions surrounding any reports of my “bad” behavior this year.
- Frankly, I fear that Chippy the Snitching Elf is a less than reliable witness. I’ve tried to reason with him on several occasions (most recently when I saw him watching me as I chewed on the Roku remote), but he simply stares back at me with agate, expressionless eyes. Not only is his behavior unnerving, but I fear he may very well suffer from a mood and/or personality disorder. Furthermore, it’s my understanding that he is supposed to move around our house nightly to gain different vantage points, so I imagine you’d be interested to know of his decision to take up a semi-permanent residence in our liquor cabinet. To the best of my knowledge, he hasn’t moved from the gin bottles and cocktail shakers except for the day he spent lying motionless on the floor beneath them. This is a shame, since I am very well behaved while sleeping, and he never bothers to visit my room upstairs.
Members of Le Club d’Untrustworthy - Before any formal evaluation of my behavior takes place, I must protest that I suffer gravely from my family’s apparent “girl child bias.” More than one member of the family has frankly stated a preference for girls, and this rampant sexism can’t help but color opinions of me. What might be considered a minor offense when committed by my preferred sister, Abigail, often becomes an inflated crime when my participation is alleged. Until recently, I thought my legal name was, “Dammit Jackson What Now.” My own father also continually uses my name interchangeably with the dog’s, seemingly unable to determine which of us is responsible for upsetting him.* Surely you should take these mitigating circumstances into consideration when checking your list the second time.
- Because of the diminutive size of our Xmas tree, I fear that not all of your expected presents will fit beneath it. If it’s easier for you, I welcome you to place all the gifts for my family in my crib on the 25th, as there is ample room. I will sort them and see that all presents make it to their intended parties!
Sincerely,
Jackson Moore
* For the record, Hogan is undeniably naughty and probably deserves nothing, but please do not penalize me by erroneous association with the counter surfing Rhodesian Ridgeback.
- Frankly, I fear that Chippy the Snitching Elf is a less than reliable witness. I’ve tried to reason with him on several occasions (most recently when I saw him watching me as I chewed on the Roku remote), but he simply stares back at me with agate, expressionless eyes. Not only is his behavior unnerving, but I fear he may very well suffer from a mood and/or personality disorder. Furthermore, it’s my understanding that he is supposed to move around our house nightly to gain different vantage points, so I imagine you’d be interested to know of his decision to take up a semi-permanent residence in our liquor cabinet. To the best of my knowledge, he hasn’t moved from the gin bottles and cocktail shakers except for the day he spent lying motionless on the floor beneath them. This is a shame, since I am very well behaved while sleeping, and he never bothers to visit my room upstairs.
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2012 Toy of the Year
Toys must produce or perish. This year’s Toy of the Year* award goes to the Elf on the Shelf. Congratulations, pragmatic hunk of felt and plastic, you avoided the recycle bin for another year and won our praise, but beware the fickle apostasy of little believers! The ice thins quickly as Abby ages beyond four.
In case you’re not familiar with this crazy, velvet rocking beast, the Elf on the Shelf is a book/toy/video/voodoo doll that makes it kitten-play to extort good behavior out of your Santa-fearing children. The rules state clearly that kids can’t touch the elf, and that the elf reports back to Santa each night on how well each child has behaved. As an adult, all you have to do is remember to move his elven ass to a new location after your kids fall asleep, and you’ll be watching your traumatized minions fall right into line until Christmas morning.
Been good, Abby? Good for you! Santa is pleased with you. Been bad, Jackson? Doh! One of your toys just morphed grotesquely into a lump of anthracite coal. (Note for chronically misbehaving kids and contrarians: put some cash into an Obama-sodomized coal stock like Alpha Natural Resources, Inc., and you just might have the last laugh when you get older.)
The elf’s effectiveness is limited only by a parent’s wickedness. Eat, Abby, the elf is watching. Go to bed, Abby, the elf can hear you. Put down the steak knife, Jackson, and step away from the snitching elf. In hindsight, it may have been an over-reach insisting that Jackson toilet train himself before turning one, in order to get a good report from the elf at the North Pole, but hey… no really permanent harm done and that kid has something to strive for next Christmas.
We pulled Chippy von Chisel (our elf’s name) out in November this year, but next year we might roll the dice and bring him out in July.
* Smart observers of the Moores might complain that we actually had possession of this toy last year. Although this is technically true, we failed to truly grasp Chippy von Chisel’s potential in time to save us from last year’s bitter December of tears. But this year… well… this year that little red bastard is working out swimmingly as a key weapon against the ever-seething tiny person rebellion.
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Entering the Jacksonian Era
Jackson courts Avoidable Tragedy once more. Now that a year has passed since Jackson moved in with us, differences between Jackson and Abigail are becoming apparent even to the casual observer.
- Whereas Abigail tends to build things (or mandate that her parents construct things for her), Jackson tends to knock things down.
- Whereas Abigail sees little use for food or drink, Jackson views every food group as its own brand of weapons-grade projectile.
- Once Abigail is asleep, she’s almost certain to stay asleep for at least a couple of hours. Jackson, on the other hand, has almost entirely eliminated daytime napping altogether and I fear he’s actively working on cutting back on his night-time sleeping hours as well.
- Whereas Abigail now agrees to wear a presentable ponytail, Jackson has grown an angry, blonde mullet instead.
- Whereas Abigail reminds you if you forget to brush her teeth, Jackson celebrates the arrival of each new tooth by crawling up to reclining adults and biting them in the spleen.
- Whereas Abigail occasionally whines at us, Jackson perpetually drives us to wine… or vodka… or hydrogen peroxide.
- Abigail takes relaxing baths in water; Jackson takes the water from baths and deposits it throughout the bathroom with the frightening efficiency of a baby hurricane.
- You can turn your back on Abby for a moment without serious injury; Jackson sees all human backs as signs of weakness and challenge.
- Our babysitter can put Abby to bed. Our babysitter dares not come over until Jackson is already locked away in his crib.
All in all, if given a choice this holiday shopping season, I suggest purchasing the 4-year-old girl over the 1-year-old boy.
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What the GOP elephant is up to these days
Many people wondered what the Grand Old Party Elephant would do once Obama and the other Donkeys held on to the White House. No worries… with a modicum of personal responsibility, a smidge of small business savvy, and an abundance of hot air, the elephant has already found rewarding employment.
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Dinner Rocks!
Jackson eats like a horse and dances like Stevie Wonder.
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Reality check
Obama, Warren, and Tierney may have won, but the Jets, Mets, and Knickerbockers won’t be winning anything of note anytime soon. The status quo really does have its good points!
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Hurricane Sandy Cometh!
Horribly afraid of Hurricane Sandy School is cancelled today due to Frankenstorm’s monster. We don’t have a fireplace, so we’re just eating and watching television until the power goes out. Actually, we live in Peabody, which has a major mall, so we never lose power or cable. You can’t get a mall in your town unless your town never loses power or cable. That’s why Chatham will never get a mall.
Hurricane Sandy now apparently covers 15,000,000 square miles, so we must be feeling a few of her effects at this point. A few small tree limbs appear to have fallen, but my hurricane dream has not yet taken place, my dream for the hurricane to blow all of the crappy, plastic toys from our backyard far enough down the road for them to be adopted by neighbors we do not know. Come on, Sandy! Come on!
Take the plastic sandbox… please! -
Real Maine Half-Marathon Results
The real results are in for the Maine Half-Marathon. Lindsey insisted she would not run under 9 minute miles. Lindsey has a problem telling the truth.
Thank you, wise Cathy, for teaching us that “Flabalanche” is not French-Canadian for “great party.”
[table id=9 /]
Full race results are available on the Maine Marathon site.
Andy’s victory over Matt runs Andy’s all-time record against Matt to 4W – 2L.
- Matt won the Salem Common LCG Fat Boy Peck Challenge Run.
- Andy won the Bridges 4 Friendship 10K Run.
- Andy won the Jingle Bell 10K Run.
- Andy won the Second Bridges 4 Friendship 10K Run.
- Matt won the Trails to Ale 10K Run.
- Andy won the Maine Half-Marathon by a technical decision.
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Fake Maine Half-Marathon Results
Andy returns to the winner’s circle Some of you may remember the unfortunate 2011 Trails to Ale race where Andy finished a disappointing second in the Hatem, Teter, Moore grudge match. Good news, readers, as Andy made a couple of adjustments* and finished in first place in this year’s running of the Maine Half-Marathon.
Asked for comment, Matt replied, “I’m pretty certain that Andy violated the spirit of competition by not telling me about the race, but I probably couldn’t have found the starting line in time anyway; hopefully Apple will have ironed out its iPhone maps by next year.”
Christian added, “I’m tired of this. Everyone knows that Andy has a serious competitive edge over me in distances less than 50 kilometers. I’m not fast, but I can go super slowly a lot longer than Andy can go moderately slowly. Super slow wins the race, friends, and I am the king of super slow.”
Christian’s wife lamented, “Andy brought Roctane, but he wouldn’t share any with me… and he has longer legs. Besides, I wasn’t really racing and I’m probably pregnant.”
*Adjustments included not inviting Matt and running against Christian’s wife who has incredibly short legs even for a “little person.”
