Snowy Thursday Morning

Any amount of snow visible on the ground and PDX flips its shit; if I had a snow shovel to clear walks & driveways, I woulda made a fortune. I bet many a clueless local would pay a Northeasterner to drive him in his car to work on such mornings, too.

The rest of my return trip.

Spent about an hour in line to take off, but otherwise the Dulles-PDX leg of the journey was fine. I don't know what to think of planes so old that they have ashtrays in the toilets..

The Grammar Nazi 12: Coup vs. Coupe vs. Coupé vs. Coop

In this modern world, it's easy to keep track of these if you keep track of definitions and the letter "e":

A "coup" [koo] is bold but triumphant action, like a coup d'état or getting a major rock star or ventriloquist to sign a mannequin's cleavage for a charity auction. There's no "e" in "bold" or "triumph," so there's no "e" in "coup" either. A "coup d'état" and "revolution" both have one "e."

A "coupe" [koop] is a small-ish two-door car. There's an "e" at the end of "Little," "Deuce" and "Coupe." You don't know what I've got.

A "coupé" [koo-pay] is when a ballerina shifts her weight from one leg to the other. The odds are good that none of us will ever need to know this for anything in our lives.

And a "coop" is a Los Angeles-based pop artist or a small enclosure designed for birds or human convicts. Coops being cramped and covered in bird shit, it's easy to understand why the "u" in "coup" flew the coop. This may rely too much on historical trivia to be a handy memory device, but I tend to remember this one as coopers being the artisans who made barrels and crates -- throw some chicken wire across the opening of either, and you have a coop.

One more flight.

And then Portland. I dunno if it should be legal to call anything "gourmet" that is delivered in boxes of boxes in a box truck.

I have no idea when my flight actually leaves or even when the plane arrives

but I don't care. Every airport should have rocking chairs so comfortable. This is the least-stressed I've felt in, um. I don't know how long.

A quick inspection of the former Giant Grocery chain

I recognize that bike. Apparently, the DC area is a snow slophouse, so our puddlejumper will be a half-hour late leaving and possibly arriving. I hope the delays extend to the PDX flight too.

The main event: Me vs. Spanny D'Coppola

Espaniel is winning -- I shoulda gone with the side-order spano and lived my life.

One more meal before the airport

Gotta stop in at least once per visit.

Los Gatos

Getting ready to leave this morning. I can't tell if Little Man understands what's going on. He might, he might not.

Before & After

And I was worried I would make it back to Portland without getting to shovel (fresh) snow.

Furrymold pumpkin, homemade pizza

Of all the ingredients in the banana fudge I attempted to make late last night/early this morning, butter and flour were the only ones I had used before to make it. I will never, ever agree to shop for cooking supplies with/by commitee again.

Yesterday's basil-broiled salmon

And Noogie in a pensive, Kennedy-esque mood. Some cats look at how things are and ask "why?" while Noog doesn't look at how things are and asks "why not?" or something.

The View Into The Little Mancave

Littles really knows how to sleep; a cozy, padded tent with an angora-like floor and a blanket over the door to keep the heat in. I wish I had a version of his naphouse for myself.

The view from the new mancave.

It was almost 60 degrees outside yesterday; now it's in the mid-20s with random brief whiteout flurries. Weather is crazy.

Happy Woulda-Been 87th Birthday, Lee Marvin

CLAP YOUR HANDS SAY FUCK YEAH:



Lee Marvin and Angie Dickinson: The only Hollywood power couple that ever mattered. Even though they were never an actual couple. And she had multiple reasons to loathe him, not the least of which being that he nearly dropped her out of a window, was an ass to her and gleefully stole shots that should have been hers in Don Siegel's proto-TV movie, THE KILLERS. Speaking of which:



Marvin, despite or because he was drunk, turns in a magnificent death scene, one far better than the cheap melodrama it caps off. Marvin was the Gil Kane of Hollywood acting; far better than the material he got but unable/unwilling to transcend it. When he did get solid material, like in THE ICEMAN COMETH or POINT BLANK, Marvin radiated a feral grace; in the latter film, director John Boorman made excellent dramatic use of Marvin's gigantic feet, which emoted more than the back of Steve McQueen's head, Clint Eastwood's squint and Jack Nicholson's eyebrows combined.

Also: My birthday is coming up, and if you love me at all, you will get me from the above clip: 1. Ronald Reagan's totally sweet burgundy suit 2. Marvin's stylish but gigantic shoes or 3. Dickinson's soft, quivering mouth. Not necessarily in that order. If those aren't available, I'd be cool with Marvin's suit or his '64 Ford Galaxie. Thanks in advance.

Littles and Abuella

They seem to share an allergy to cat hair and/or dander. It must be awful to be allergic to yourself.

Thanksgiving in February

Little Man is little, man. I made the turkey roue/gravy, opened the can of cranberry soylent-green jell (ugh) and offered easily ignored sage advice for the made-from-scratch stuffing. Taken Thursday.

Noogie relaxes

I still can't believe that a cat can develop a double-chin. (Monday.)

A reason to move back East, in a bottle.

I nearly squeaked when I saw these new diet-soda flavors but quickly recovered my manly self-respect. Once again, all glory to the Wegmans (no apostrophe in logo). Taken Monday.

The end of an (especially boring) era.

Driving down the Vestal Parkway for the first time in forever, I was shocked but not surprised to see the eternally nondescript facade of the old new Press building being torn down, now that the newspaper's offices have moved to the slightly less-bland new Ganett building in Johnson City. I presume the Press site will not be used for more student housing, what with it being literally across the street from the Binghamton U. campus. I'm guessing the hole will be filled with a new-to-Bingo big-box chain franchise, like Krispy Kreme, Five Guys or Pita Pit, which will last until it's time to renew the lease. Photos taken Monday.

Happy Seventh Birthday, Little Man.

Wegmans pizza and red-velvet cake by that guy who sells his cakes through that bakery. He seemed pleased with how the get-together went, now sleeping in his little green house on the dining table.

Our First Little Man Booger of 2011

Littles is sick, so his sneezes produce even bigger boogers than his normal ones. This afternoon, he produced the biggest snotrocket I've seen, so I had to measure it. He actually sighed after he finally forced it out; if I had a blockage like that in my nose, I would be relieved to get it out, too.

Before and After

Yeah, I totally believe that this is the very first time since I moved to Portland that someone did't come over to shovel out the driveway and the roof within, say, a few days after a snowstorm. I knew I should have hired a neighbor kid to take care of it and then Paypal'ed him as needed. Even with multiple layers of ice to break and clear, the job took less than an hour, the lazy asses.

Hello Again

You remember these three cats, right?

I now understand why people who meet Little Man for the first time freak out when they learn that he's not a kitten. He's so little!

Mokey now has three-ish teeth and vastly improved breath, and Noogie is exponentially fatter. I've never seen a cat with a double chin before. He makes it work, regardless; he's grown into some Sean Connery-level reverse handsomeness. Taken yesterday.