1. Jilted by TSA
Total letdown by TSA at the San Diego airport. I wore my best cologne, some special "form-enhancing" underwear, and my patented Come Hither smile, but the screeners didn't even give me a look. What the hell, security? You think you can lead me on like that and then ignore me when I'm right in front of you?
I won't be ignored, Dan.
2. Weather rocks
Colorado remains as awesome as ever. I love coming here, no matter what time of the year it is. I especially enjoy this month, the softly graying limbo between Fall and Winter. The trees have officially lost their leaves, which means when I wake up in the mornings and go out to stand on my parents' porch, tree branches make the stark silhouettes of a crone's fingers against the sunrise, which itself looked like someone spilled gold and pink paint across the sky today.
I love it. I love it when it's so cold the sky becomes even more intensely, impossibly blue in the middle of the day. I love it when it turns slate-gray before a coming snowfall. I love how nighttime here is the hush beneath a warm, dark blanket. Every time I visit, I wonder why I ever left to go to stupid ol' Southern California.
3. Held Hostage by the Rockettes
My mom arranged a special treat for the Mini-Pirate this year. She bought tickets for the whole family to to go see "Christmas with the Rockettes," which is basically a Capade without ice at a nearby sports arena. We all got dressed up yesterday and drove down to Colorado Springs to witness the spectacle, which is allegedly a scaled-down, leaner version of what they do at Radio City in New York this time of year. Two hours of tap dancing, Christmas merriment, some pop-and-lock performances by the Radio City Singers, a mammoth nativity scene, and many, many costume changes.
For SaucyWench and me, sitting through the entire spectacle was like being strapped into that Clockwork Orange brainwash chair with our eyelids taped open, our retinas seared with cheerful holiday imagery until our wills were broken.
But for Mini-P... it was sheer Magic Time. I kept looking over at her -- she was on the edge of her seat, clapping wildly after every number. I don't think she blinked the entire time. Which made the whole thing worth it for us droogs.
4. Movember Thanks
Which brings us to a Movember update. I was going to shave the goatee down to the classic Burt Reynolds mustache today as promised, both in honor of Thanksgiving and to prepare for my audition in case Hollywood ever follows through with that Cannonball Run remake. But, well, we're here staying in my parents' house, and Senior Matriarchal Management has informed me that I will not be permitted to ruin our family holiday photos with a giant fuzzy caterpillar moseying across my upper lip.
Message received, Mom.
I'll do the final stachedown on Friday, after the last piece of pumpkin pie has been scarfed down, the last thanks have been given, the last family photo snapped.
Here's the last Movember photo with the full goat. It's probably good to wait a couple days before baring the bottom half of my face anyway. I gotta say, the goat keeps my mug warm:
|Jealous, Grizzly Adams?|
|Me and Mini-P on a hike below the Boulder Flatirons. |
If you look closely, you'll see that we're dancing, in preparation
for the Rockettes. Ok, she's dancing. I'm going for more of a sashay.
I'm thankful that two good friends of mine who had cancer last year do not have it this year. One had prostate cancer. He doesn't have it anymore. I'll never say this to his face (and luckily he only reads this blog when I badger him), but this guy is one of my best friends, someone who's made my existence better. And last year when he told me had cancer, I was scared. He's better now. And so I am better now.
No better reason for Movember, in my book. We have six days left to raise funds for men's cancer research. That's right, I slid that "we" in there, in case you haven't thrown a couple bucks in over at my page, or the Team DadCentric page. There's still time.
Happy Thanksgiving, my loyal and steadfast didactic crew members. Have a great holiday, and enjoy that tryptophan coma tomorrow night. I know I will.