I went through my plans of going to this new Middle Eastern place that came recommended after I left last/Friday night's Prince tribute concert.  Interesting food, but I didn't think it'd be so much.  Moreover, I ordered this through drive-thru at around 1:30.  I got done eating it all around 4.  And I'm having donuts with someone I haven't seen since high school this/Saturday morning at 10.  Eating this was a mistake.  And I regret doing so.

My Thoughts On Who To Root For In The Stanley Cup And NBA Finals

I have no interest in seeing the Stanley Cup Finals.  Out of principle, I don't watch a postseason once my team, in this case the Wild, are eliminated.  It hurts too much.  (This may be paradoxical, but if my team doesn't make a playoffs, I am more than happy to watch the whole thing ... with exceptions, of course.  If my team can't even make the postseason, that means my team didn't even have a chance of winning that Year's title, so I cannot have any bitterness over what could have been.  Does that make sense?)

Beyond that, though, I don't care how intriguing this matchup has become after Games 1 and 2 have both featured stunning comebacks and late Goals.  The Vegas Golden Knights are in their third Stanley Cup Finals and they're only nine years old.  They were given the most generous and bountiful birth of any expansion team in North American sports, immediately seeding their roster with stars and upside role players and parlaying them into a Stanley Cup Finals birth in their first Year.  And they have continued to cash in on the excessively valuable assets they were given, trading those away for a bumper crop of promising youngsters and aging role players, thus giving them a higher ceiling that few other teams in the NHL have, let alone were given.  And that's why I refer to them as Team Privilege, or Team Third Base.

On top of that, their starting, starring Goaltender, Carter Hart, was one of four people accused of gang raping a drugged-out women several years ago.  The Canadian judge let him off the hook, and he hooked up with the Golden Knights, and he's playing very well, thus proving that there is no God.  Oh, and he is a supporter of this separatist movement in the Canadian province of Alberta.  And on top of all that, the owner of the Vegas Golden Knights demands that his franchise is not named the Las Vegas Golden Knights, purportedly because "Las" sounds too close to "loss."  Putz.

Meanwhile, The Carolina Hurricanes have a boss, Tom Dundon, who may be riding high on the success of his hockey team, but is curiously thinning the workforce of the NBA team he owns, The Portland Trail Blazers.  He sounds creepily close to all these tech bros who think their achievement and moxie in their industry means they know everything and must be allowed to do anything, even if it means taking the livelihoods of people who just want to put food on the table.  Sounds like an asshole.  Oh ... also, The Carolina Hurricanes were stolen from the good people of Hartford, and The Hartford Whalers' famous fight song, "Brass Bonanza," has been adopted for North Carolina.  As hoary a form of cultural appropriation you can get without lasting consequences for civilization and society.

So, Team Third Base vs. The Bastard Hartford Whalers?  I choose death.

Meanwhile, my feelings for which team is winning the NBA Finals are so mixed up that I can't accurate describe them.  I know that I should hate The San Antonio Spurs because they beat my Minnesota Timberwolves, and loyalty demands that I wish evil upon those who've wronged me.  On the other side, Karl-Anthony Towns, who was loyal to the T-Wolves until the point the organization stopped being loyal to him and traded him, has a chance to win a championship with the team he was traded to, The New York Knicks.  I think he's a good guy, and I want to see him happy and successful.  And I saw what Jalen Brunson did at the end of Game 1's Win; that dude has big balls, and I really respect that, too.

So why do I catch myself rooting for the Spurs and rooting against the Knicks?  Those are two different questions that demand two different answers.  I don't know him, but it feels as though Victor Wenbanyama is a good dude who's still learning how to play in the NBA.  I like the really tall kid.  And on the other side, when the Knicks made big shot after big shot to pull out a Game 1 upset at San Antonio, I saw Knicks fans in the San Antone crowd cheer, this well of hate rises up within me.  Dammit, man, New York City sports fans are insufferable.

Such a jumble of preferences may drive a man mad.  But I'll try and tease this out.  I'm not specifically hoping that the Spurs will win, but I do hope that Wemby wins.  Meanwhile, I want to see KAT win one championship ... but I don't care about the Knicks franchise or Knicks fans winning a championship.  Hey, I need to compartmentalize if I am supposed to analyze Game 2's broadcast with any sort of objectivity.

With all that said, I plan on going to that Prince celebration concert tonight/Friday night, so I will likely miss Game 2.  Shucks.

Only Ten Minutes, Laptop Battery??

My laptop battery is close to kaput now.  I had it completely full when I unplugged it just now so I could listen to AI jazz through YouTube while washing the dishes.  As I was in the middle of my chore, it stopped, it put itself into sleep mode, chimed the sleep chime, then went dormant which, according to this laptop, means it just goes to the lock screen, which is good because before, when it had no energy left, it would just go black.  By the way, I don't know when it went from going completely dark to going to the lock screen, but whatever happened or what prompted that change, good call!

Of course, since this happened about ten minutes after I unplugged my lap, this computer pretty much is a goner.  I'll need to get a new one because this one doesn't have the capacity to get Windows 11, but now I need to make sure this is plugged in if I ever want to be on this for a long period of time.  That shouldn't be a challenge, but it's one I now need to be cognizant of until I am forced to buy a new one, which should be some time in the fall.

On other thing: If I recall correctly, this is the second battery in this laptop.  I had it switched about four years ago because the very first battery simply had no juice.  That second battery had draining issues from the get-go, which leads me to believe that the motherboard or something else on this computer is the real culprit.  Again, whatever it is, I need to replace the whole thing before the year is out.

Old Chicken Not As Good As New-ish Chicken

So yesterday/Monday I was invited to this house party that was happening later into the evening.  Normally I wouldn't go because of the last-minute notice ... and I usually haven't.  But it was at a place much more convenient to me, plus ****e was there, and it just so happened I texted her on Sunday.  Work was a bear, but I managed to get out in time so that I could go home, change, get money, and then get to the party in time to get my rocks off.

While waiting for ****e and *****y (who told me about the party) to double-team me, I sat in the cramped kitchen which was hosting this shindig with three-to-four other guys who have either gotten serviced or were waiting to be serviced by at least one of those two women.  There's always food at these stripper parties.  And even though food is the furthest thing I need when I go to these parties, there's nothing else to do there except eat.  Someone, probably one of the dancers, bought take-home chicken and fries, presumably from Cub Foods.  I ate it.  And even though it had been laying around of at least 90 minutes, it tasted good.

I planned to have Kentucky Fried Chicken for dinner last/Monday night.  Well, let me go back a bit ... before I even knew there was a party going on, I was planning on going to the Ty Segall concert at First Ave.  But I checked his recent playlist.  He doesn't seem to deviate from concert to concert, and the one song for which I would have gone to see him play (his awesome, stomping cover of Hot Chocolate's "Every 1's A Winner") he has not played at all in his tour, at least not yet.  I'm not a big-enough fan of Mr. Segall that I would go see him play songs I don't know, so I decided not to go.  Maybe I should've researched his tour set earlier so I could have made this decision earlier.

Anyway, because I decided not to go to the concert, I quickly pivoted to eating KFC after the party.  I recently signed up for the fast food restaurant's application, and because I'm a first-time signee, I got this deal where, for the first seven days I signed in, I could get my first order through their app for half off.  I had planned this after looking over the menu, so I knew that I was going to order a four-piece chicken meal, which came with a side (I settled on fries), a biscuit, and a Pepsi.  That would originally go for about $14.50 (!), so seeing as I was going to get it for half-off, I figure this would be the only time I would ever get it.

When my parents were here (ish), they would make me get KFC on Tuesdays.  They still have a deal where a bucket of eight pieces of chicken sells for ten bucks.  Those were always hot.  These weren't.  Still, I thought it would taste good, so I sat down and at them and ... they weren't.  I don't know why.  I don't think it's quality control, at least beyond the warmth.  But it wasn't as good as the leftover chicken I ate at the party.  That can't be right.  The only thing I can think of is that, besides having popcorn and a Cpari-Sun-like juicebox at work, given to us by the company, I was really hungry, and that leftover chicken hit the spot.  I ate all my KFC with little difficulty, but when I started, admittedly, I wasn't hungry.

Maybe I should've saved that Kentucky Fried Chicken order for another day.  Or maybe this KFC store had a bad run of chicken and if I had gone somewhere else that night I would've gotten better chicken.  Who knows?

Expenses Without Receipt

Starting from Thursday, April 9:

• Well, we should really start on Easter, aka Sunday, April 5, when I went out to the Heights to finally see Psycho.  Man, that shower scene is killer.  Ticket, popcorn, pop and tip: $26.
• Later that evening *****y whacked me off.  I wanted to see her on Easter because she is a regular churchgoer and I find it somewhat ironic that she goes to church and then later that day she gives me an HJ for money, specifically: $150.
• Friday, April 3: I didn't expect to spend money, but Father wanted Powerball tickets, so out I went.  And because I have to stick to my rule of spending cash or using credit cards on a least two things in a day, I decided that I wasn't going to have veggie chips and veggie dip for dinner and instead try a mom-and-pop Latin American restaurant.  There are a few places around here that are recommended.  But they were closed by the time I went out -- I stayed to listen to the end of the South Carolina-UConn women's college basketball Semifinal and in particular Geno Auriemma's meltdown at Dawn Staley -- so I went to a place that was open but fell just below 4 1/2 stars on Google Maps: Que Taco.  Not bad.  I got their birria tacos, and they are the biggest tacos I've seen around the area yet.  Wanted to use the bathroom, but they cordoned that part of the restaurant off with chairs and a mop wringer bucket.  Might go there again if only because it's open when I want to nightcrawl.  I have the receipt (ETA at 1:19 p.m. on May 24, 2026 that I may have had the receipt, but it looks like I threw it away, so either I charged this to my credit card or I just fucked up and didn't write down the amount I paid for it, in which case, uh, oh, well, I hate myself), so this EWR is for just the tip: $2.
• Now we go back to Sunday, March 29, where I laid into ****e.  She was unstable on this day, sadly.  She called me while I was still driving to her place asking me where the hell I am.  Her cock-sucking wasn't as on point as it has been in the past.  And after we got done fucking and I laid in bed all tuckered out, she took my underwear and socks and placed them in a pile next to what what was either clothes she was going to launder or trash she was going to throw away.  I was glad I was getting dressed before she did anything to it.  But when I grabbed my boxers, I saw that they were right above a wad of either wet toilet paper or paper towels either she cleaned up the bathroom with or I used to wipe up all my cum.  There was a huge wet spot on the boxers, and I needed to wear them because I was going to a brewery afterward.  I asked ****e if I could use a hair dryer, and that did the trick.  But this is the first time something like this happened.  Whatever; I'm thinking of seeing her again next weekend.  Price: $120.
• So this brewery is doing this thing where I could bring in a Minnesota United jersey and they would remove the Target logo in the front and replace it with the Rebel Loon, a symbol of the Twin Cities' resilience and defiance in the wake of this Republican government's oppression earlier in the year.  I waited and had an early dinner and beer while they were hacking my replica Loons jersey.  But for some reason I couldn't use my card to pay for this service.  Thankfully I had enough cash on me to do it: $30.
• Back further to Monday, March 23, the date of my alma mater getting their butts handed to them by South Carolina.  Our Game-watching bar charges extra when you pay by credit card, so I now pay by cash as often as I can, and I did so on this night.  With tip: $40.
• Sunday the 22nd was the last day Hotters at The Mall Of America was open.  Sad, sad day.  Glad I got there when I did; they got so busy, and they got so cleaned out, that they closed their doors at 6 even though they usually close on Sundays at 10, I think.  Oh, and when I asked if there was any food available, my Hooters girl said they still had burger patties.  Not burger buns, but patties.  And shit, I almost ordered one.  But I settled on my Big Daddy-size Bud Light and the two shirts they still had on sale.  Didn't think I wanted such memorabilia, but when one shirt was only five bucks and another server came around saying the other shirt, really a cancer-themed crop top, was only a buck, well, I had to jump at the chance.  My last total I spent at the Megamall MOA, with tip: $40.
• And on my way out I think I saw a Girl Scout Cookies stand.  That's where I bought the Lemonades.  Glad it was a Girl Scout who did the sale and not her mom; these kids are supposed to learn how to sell and do business, right?  Paid: $6.
• Back to Saturday, March 14 ... a fellow alumni's kid is in this covers rock band.  The band is really good, and I saw on Facebook that they were playing at a brewpub close to me.  I stayed there until the snowstorm everyone was dreading started to look really bad.  But before I left I left tips for the young whippersnappers: $4.
• Shit, man, now we're really going back ... to Sunday, February 22, in fact, when I went to the Heights for the first time since I think the theater got new owners.  I went to see Battleship Potemkin, a silent film classic I have wanted to see for a long time.  It was accompanied by a solo musician who played the piano.  What I wasn't expecting was her to use a snare drum and a crash cymbal.  I have seen a silent film once or twice with a full band, but never have I heard percussion used -- but it was a very, very welcomed new experience.  Paid for the ticket with my credit card, so this total is for the popcorn, pop, and tipping the concession stand: $13.
• On Saturday the 21st I got a shave from the local barber school.  The person shaving me acted like he didn't give a shit, so I didn't give much of a tip.  See, this is why I'm willing to pay five times as much to get my face shaved.  Or, maybe I should just do it myself again.  With tip: $12.
• For Valentine's Day I went to My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Version) to see my ATF.  Where else would I go on February 14?  So glad she was there working; she had said she didn't know if she was going to take the day off.  Cover, tips, drinks from me and ******a and 20 table dances from her ... well, I see that I didn't write the total amount down after I left the club, so I'm just going to pull an amount out of my ass and say that I spent: $230.
• Sunday, February 8: Went to Grandpa Joe's (formerly Blue Sun Soda Shop) to get some premium ginger beer and ginger ale for the cocktails I wanted to make.  I also grabbed a bottle of RC and a bottle of root beer from some company.  Six bottles that cost: $14.33.
• I think later that day, *****y came over to wank me: $150.
• Finally, on Sunday, February 1, ******e came over to wank me: $120.

Yes, I keep saying this: I need to do these more frequently.  Done through April 9.

My Time Is Not My Own (Again)

See, I was so busy this weekend ... that I didn't get around to blog post something about the weekend until the weekend was over.

This past weekend was one where I was, yeah, super busy.  I had a volunteer event down south of here Saturday afternoon, and I had the Loons Match Sunday afternoon.  Both of them were in the afternoon, like I said, but those were things I was planning on doing, so that means I was busy over the weekend.  So much so that I had to set the alarm on my phone for both days, something I usually don't do and usually do dread.  To be completely fair, I woke up on my own on Saturday -- early enough, in fact, to water the plants in the morning.  But the phone woke me up on Sunday, and it felt like I was going to work.  Blech.

Come to think of it, I'm busy this week, too.  I had an alumni watching event last/Monday night and saw my team get their asses kicked.  Tonight/Tuesday night I am planning on seeing my first movie in a while, Ready Or Not 2: Here I Come.  I thought the first one was a kick, so I am looking forward to a sequel I didn't think the box office on the first one would call for.  Tomorrow/Wednesday I might stay in, so there's that.  Thursday I work early, so I might work out for the first time in a long time, or I could see this band in south Minneapolis, or I could take a nap so long that it extends into the evening.  Friday I think I'm going to my first roller derby event in years.  And this weekend I need to use this birthday offer at a bar in south Minneapolis while also hoping to see ****e for a fuck.  I really could use a day to myself, but my libido is forcing me to give up time to things I may regret doing later.  Well, maybe not fucking ****e, but all the other stuff. ...

Songs Playing The Minute Of My Birth

• The Current: Tame Impala, "Dracula"
• Cities 97.1, Evanescence, "Bring Me To Life"
• 104.1 Jack FM: Guns 'N' Roses, "Paradise City"
• 104.7 KCLD: Lewis Capaldi, "Someone You Loved"

"Preparing" For The Biggest Goddamn Snowstorm I've Ever Seen

So this is the literal calm before the storm.  What began brewing Sunday turned, around Thursday, into something big, real big.  And unfortunately for me, the track began curving upward.  Unless I've interpreted things wrong, this blizzard is going to be a direct hit right on top of us.  Two motherfuckin' feet are possible.  What we probably should call The Ides Of March Blizzard might top The Halloween Blizzard of 1991, and that fuckin' storm is affixed in lore.  And even if it's not, it looks like we're clearing a foot here easily, and I don't remember the last time a blizzard that huge has ever registered with me (and that includes The Halloween Blizzard of 1991; I was just a kid who had no cares then).

So ... what to do?  I am bemused by everyone rushing out to do grocery shopping before it hits, which should come in around dinnertime and might not relent for 24 hours thereafter.  Come on, guys, this isn't the Siege Of Leningrad here.  It's going to be bad, and it might be historically bad, but it's only one day ... well, maybe a day and a half, tops.  You should have enough food now to get you through, and if you don't, frankly, you live in a bad situation beyond this blizzard.

With all that said -- well, I looked outside and, like I said, it's calm.  It's just a late-winter day out there -- overcast, too cold for my liking, but otherwise a day that you can travel without incident.  A part of me wants to hunker down and let the snowstorm do what it wants, but that does not sit well with the other part of me.  I will go out, and I probably will twice. I need to dump this trash, get some cash for my stripper girlfriends, and then probably grab lunch.  Later, I might check in and see this band, then probably get dinner to go before the storm kicks in.  It's not going to be horrible until overnight, but I want to be hunkered down before I even touch a flake.  And see, even I am beginning to feel like I want to "prepare" before the storm hits, even if it's just having an empty trash can to begin this storm.

I'm scared.  I'll admit that.  I just went into my backyard to make sure there's no hole in the roof or something.  I just feel that something bad will happen alongside this blizzard because it feels like my lot in life.  Maybe the worst plausible thing I can think of is that the snowblower won't work.  If it doesn't, I might not be working Monday.

I'm starting to understand why people panic-shop at the grocery store now.

I should go now.  Well, I'll juice this lemon, then go.  I think I'll need a cocktail after looking out from my window tonight.

When Second-Guessing Is The Right Thing To Do

When I leave for work in the morning, I frequently forget something to which I need to shut down the car, open the front door to my house, and disarm the alarm in order to retrieve what I left behind.  It's usually my cellphone, so it's a pain-in-the-ass to do my steps backwards and then do them all over again once I find my phone.

This time around, once I turned my car on I forgot something else, namely an envelope Mother asked me to stuff with tax forms that had to be delivered here and not to my parents' condo in Las Vegas.  I wondered when I would have the time to get to a post office to send it.  We've been so busy at work that swinging by the post office close to me would be fruitless because they would be closed by the time I'm free.  I thought Sunday would be the earliest I could do it; I would be able to go down to ****e's place for a little screw time, then in the afternoon I could go to the post office at MSP before going home.

Two things wrong with that.  First, and I don't remember when I checked, that post office branch isn't exactly on the way back.  I would have to deviate east for a bit, then jog back west in order to head north.  Second, I would be downtown both last/Tuesday night (for a concert) and tonight/Wednesday night (for a Golden Gopher baseball Game).  The downtown post office closes in the evening, so if I get out of work early enough, I'd be able to go to the post office, mail the envelope to My Mother, then do whatever I want downtown because I'm already there.

In anticipation of that, I was going to throw that envelope filled with Mother's tax forms in my bookbag so I would have it with me if I had the time to send it.  But, alas, I forgot.  Oftentimes I would remember once I am more than halfway to work, and for those time I just mentally shrug and say to myself I'll do it tomorrow.  But once I remembered the envelope after I started my car, I just kept thinking that the moonshot of leaving work with enough time to mail the envelope and then go to the concert was a risk worth taking.  So, I turned off my car, went back inside, disarmed the alarm and picked up the envelope.

And good thing, too.  While I had to stay late at work, it wasn't late enough where I couldn't still get to the post office, pay to ship the envelope, find another parking spot, and walk for almost a mile to the club to get to the concert, which began at the strange hour of 6.  And so I did all that, and I caught the last couple songs of the first of three acts and the entirety of the other two (with a DJ filling in the set changes while stagehands haul off musical equipment).  Plenty of time.  Now, I think about how badly I would have screwed myself if I remembered the envelope before driving off to work but said whatever.  Glad I trundled back inside, because a sizable chore for Mother has been done.

Venmo Trouble

So I sent ****e* her money not too long ago.  I usually pay her in cash, but since I wasn't planning on using any cash yesterday/Thursday, and since the money I took out Wednesday thinking I was going to spend it on some sexytime with a stripper (which fell through) I am going to use at My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Version) tomorrow/Saturday instead, I was going to pay her through the "fake money" of Venmo.

I actually left last/Thursday night to attend a concert while ****e* was still working on my house.  She was gone by the time I came back, and, like she said before I left, she would request I pay her through Venmo.  I think there was a bit of a miscommunication; I asked for her username, but she thought I could just pay through the app, and I told her I never put money apps on my phone because someone might get in there and steal all my money.  I was able to find her username after I clicked on her request, so all is right with the world.

I have used Venmo a lot, so much so that I need to replenish it more often than I want to.  So after paying off ****e*, I tried to transfer money from my bank to my Venmo.  But I can't.  First, I tried to find the page where I can do the transfer, but there wasn't one.  I swear I've done it before, but I don't know where the hell the page is.  I look up instructions on Google, but first I only saw ways to add money through the app, and then I was told that I had to go to the "Me" tab, but there isn't one.

Finally, I stumbled on a Business Insider article that tells you how to do it.  I saw a URL.  I cut-and-pasted it, and that's when I finally saw the (unfamiliar) page whereby I can send money from my bank into my Venmo.  But then I tried it, several times, but I got an error message.  So I logged out.

Like I said, I haven't quite encountered the trouble putting money into my Venmo like I did last/Thursday night, but I have encountered the occasional trouble from this stupid application.  That thing is difficult to use, yet everyone swears by it.  I don't get it.

What I'm Doing This Christmas Weekend; Christmas Song Review

It's not going to be much of a Christmas holiday for me.  I'm working today/Thursday/Christmas, and then, instead of just vegging at home, I've decided I am going to a few Hockey World Juniors Games, on Friday and Sunday.  I need to stand by my principle that I should go to things that might not come around here for a long time, and the Hockey World Juniors might not be in the Twin Cities ever again, at least not in my lifetime.  In fact, I changed my mind and bought tickets to not one but both Group Stage Games tomorrow/Friday at Mariucci.  I was going to go to Hooters at MOA after the afternoon Game, but as far as I know, Hooters will be around in 2026; the World Juniors will not.  I just need to figure out what I'm going to do inbetween Games.  Oh, and even though there are Games on Saturday, that's when I figure I'll just sleep in.  That's my time to relax for Christmas.

---

Before I delve into this Christmas' Christmas song, I have to apologize for doubling up.  I was looking through past Christmas song reviews and didn't realize that I wrote about Brenda Lee's "Rockin' Around The Christmas Tree" twice, last year and in 2019.  I don't know how I forgot I did it twice.  Sorry.  I will do better and check beforehand.

My Christmas song for 2025 is a challenging one because it's not originally a Christmas song.  It's "My Favorite Things," from the musical The Sound Of Music.  I'm still trying to understand how it accreted its Christmas meaning after it was made, but let me go through the chronology as I understand it.  I'm using articles from Mental Floss, Billboard, and Wikipedia (two articles) to research this.

The Sound Of Music first appeared on Broadway in 1959, with the song showing up in Act I, completely devoid of its current meaning.  The cast album was released that year and topped the Billboard charts for 16 weeks, then stayed in the Top 10 for the next two years.  Now here's where it gets weird: Julie Andrews, who plays the main character of Maria in the film adaptation of The Sound Of Music, performed "My Favorite Things" on a variety show on CBS called The Garry Moore Show at Christmastime in 1961.  Note that Andrews has no connection with the original stage version of The Sound Of Music.  She was eventually cast as Maria for the film version, but that was made in 1964 and released in 1965.  According to Wikipedia, a man by the name of Ernest Lehman was hired to write the screenplay in December of 1962.

It looks as though the "Christmasifying" (I'm taking that word from the Mental Floss article) of "My Favorite Things" came in 1964 due to, ironically enough, the film version of The Sound Of Music.  The music publishing division of the The Rodgers & Hammerstein Organization (Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II wrote the music and lyrics for the stage musical, their last together before Hammerstein died of stomach cancer in August 1960) knew the film adaptation was going to be released in March 1965.  It was being marketed as a tentpole movie (it would go on to win five Oscars, including Best Picture), but that publishing division wanted a song from that movie to become a hit before the movie came out, otherwise they were afraid the movie wouldn't make any money.

Someone from the Rodgers & Hammerstein Organization went to a music producer named Mickey Kapp to see if there was a way to get a song from The Sound Of Music into any album Kapp was producing.  He told the representative that he was currently producing a Christmas album for a singer named Jack Jones; Jones, who died in October 2024, sang the theme song to The Love Boat, by the way.  This rep thought that "My Favorite Things" would be a good song for Jones to sing and for Kapp to add to the album, which is called The Jack Jones Christmas Album.

But why "My Favorite Things" for a Christmas album?  Well, that's where you listen to the song and note all the references to winter and Christmas, or at least references that lend themselves to the season and the holiday if you imagine big enough: "Warm woolen mittens"; "Brown paper packages tied up with strings"; "Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes"; etc.  Who knows if Rodgers & Hammerstein picked up on the Christmas allusions when they wrote the song.  But Kapp, sticking to the original context of "My Favorite Things," said it wasn't a good idea to put it on a Christmas album because it wasn't a Christmas song.  To which this promoter said, "Just add sleigh bells."

Well, Kapp did add sleigh bells, and Jones sang the song, and "My Favorite Things" was put into The Jack Jones Christmas Album, and ... it looks like it didn't become a hit, nor could people directly credit that song for people buying tickets to The Sound Of Music, the movie.  But people in the music industry apparently saw "My Favorite Things" as a Christmas song then, and thought it was good, because from then on other artists did their own version of "My Favorite Things" for their Christmas albums, and it then became the standard holiday song it is now.

But I'm not going for Jack Jones's or Julie Andrews's or even the original version of "My Favorite Things."  I love, and I mean love, John Coltrane's cover of it.  It swings so effortlessly, and my Buddha, his playing after the verses lifts me up to the sky.  I shouldn't leave out McCoy Tyner; his revolutionary piano playing on the song is a heaven-sent complement to Trane's virtuosity.  Only in the past year or so have I realized I now have a song that makes me feel happy every time I hear it.

And here's the ironic part of that: The album "My Favorite Things" is on (and the album is named after the song) was released in March 1961 -- a couple years after the stage musical premiered and almost four years before Mickey Kapp and Jack Jones put it on a Christmas album.  It wasn't a Christmas song when Coltrane recorded it, and yet you hear it come Christmastime.  I can't call this "retconning," short for retroactive continuity, but maybe this phenomenon could be called, uh, retroactive meaning-making ... or something?

OK, maybe not.  But here's John Coltrane doing "My Favorite Things."  Get happy, and Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays:

Another Sign I'm A Crappy Uncle

I got really tired yesterday, y'all, really tired.  I didn't think I would be, but I was really draggin' at work in the afternoon.  And after my parents made spaghetti for dinner (yum!), I was going to lay down for a bit and, well, see where my body will take me before The Amazing Race comes on.

When I climb into bed, I get a text from my sister-in-law.  She says my niece is playing in a school concert, and we can watch it live.  If they had told me my niece played an instrument, I completely forgot.

I wanted to watch on my phone.  I really did.  But when I got my text, I was really, really tired.  So I set the phone off to the side and shut my eyes with the promise that, if I woke up by the time the concert started, which was about less than a half-hour after I got the text, I would watch.

I think I set my phone aside and shut my eyes at around 5:45.  I woke up, totally serious, at 10:15.  I was hoping the Vimeo had a "Watch from the beginning" feature, but it doesn't.  So I missed my niece's concert because I was tired af.  I know I need to make a more concerted effort to be present for her events ... but dammit, I was tired.  And probably a bad uncle, too.

I texted my sister-in-law to see if I can see a replay of it online.  Hope so.  Hope she's still talking to me.

General (Car-Centered) Anxiety

I don't know, man ... right now, I'm not looking forward to this week.  Don't have any specifics ... although, come to think of it, my sister during work yesterday/Monday has asked for my car on a handful of days, starting this week, and I wasn't able to open up the car hood and check the coolant tank to see if there has been even more of a drop than I saw on Sunday because it was raining.  I should try and take a look today/Tuesday, but the forecast calls for rain this afternoon as well.

I want to go to a concert on Thursday.  Also, barring a change in plans, Mother has surgery next week.  That's a lot of miles for a car that I am afraid might have some sort of leak in the cooling system and thus may overheat.  It's driving fine besides that, and like I said in my last blog post, maybe there's nothing wrong and I'm just finding reasons to scare myself.  But heck yeah, I am kind of scared.

No Farm Aid 40

A big concert, Farm Aid 40, is going on right now.  I thought about going, but I didn't because ... well, there are/were so many commitments (going to my storage space, eating with my parents, alumni stuff) that I felt I had to do today, and I took a huge nap this evening.  I hope I don't live to regret it.

Expenses Without Receipts

Starting from Labor Day, also known as Monday, September 1:

• We start at Sunday, August 31, which was my last of four days at The Minnesota State Fair.  I noticed that did not get too many of the new foods because, like I said in a previous blog post, there wasn't a consensus new food (well, besides the soft serve beer, which may not be a food) that I would wait for hours to try.  (And by the way, the lines to the soft serve beer were non-existent.  It was hyped all over the place, as I did in that same previous blog post, but did it make enough money that justified a return on investment?)  There was that ube lumpia that I waited in line for, but it was getting late and the line didn't seem to move, so I bailed.  What I did get were the Maple Cream Nitro Cold Press Coffee from the Farmers Union; Granny's Green Apple Sucker Ice Cream; the new Aegean Dream beer from Dino's; a Cider Freeze, that iced apple juice in a plastic tube considered to be the cheapest Fair food you can find for many, many years; a corn dog (not a pronto pup, a corn dog, and it's the first time I've ever had a corn dog, I think); and an Aloha Pineapple Haze that was being sold only from the eating establishments inside the Warner Coliseum.  All told, I spent: $40.50.
• And Father paid me for getting Powerball tickets for him.  It's an Infusion of: $10.
• Saturday the 30th was the start of my alma mater's football season, and I'm glad they kicked ass.  This place upcharges for credit cards, and since the State Fair was replete with vendors that also did that, plus the Powerball being where it is right now, and I have used cash like I haven't since before the pandemic.  And this is a good thing because I should want to avoid giving away money if I don't have to, right?  With tip I paid: $32.
• Friday the 29th was my third trip to the Fair.  Had the yuzu meringue Croffle Cloud; the Bama! Lemon Sweet Tea mocktail; the Cherry Bigfoot Limeade Float from Tasti-Whip; the newest apple creation from the University of Minnesota, the First Kiss; a Bee-Nana Pie, one of the stalwarts of last year's rookie class of new foods; and the second time I had that Soft Serve Royal Raspberry Beer from West End Brews.  Total: $54.
• Tuesday, August 26 -- Father, paying me back for Powerball tickets, an Infusion of: $10.
• And I went to my game-watching bar to make sure everything was set for Saturday.  With tip I shelled out: $15.
• Monday the 25th: Father paid me back for Powerball, but I'm sure he didn't exactly pay me back on this date; I just put it here because I used cash on this day and I have a rule that if you are using one form of currency to pay for something, you need to use it again so it won't be lonely.  Anyway, this is an Infusion of: $50.
• To Sunday, August 24 ... I spent the evening going to Palmer's Bar, presumably for the last time, so I could see Cornbread Harris play as part of his longstanding Sunday night residency.  It'll end after three more Sundays because one of the owners stole from the century-old bar to pay for his drug addiction, and the other owners could not make up for that deficit, so they sold them the bar and, I assume, the land beneath it.  Fucking shame.  I tried to see Cornbread Harris play, but instead of the riser at the back of the bar, he just played on the floor at the front.  That meant there was a sea of people just standing in front of me, basically blocking my view of Mr. Harris for the whole two hours.  I was able to fight toward the band as other groups, who were talking to each other and not really there to see Cornbread, backed off.  But I got the feeling that in such a busy environment, everyone had the right to get close to the music as possible, so I cycled myself away, grabbed a second beer, sat outside and just drank through the end of the first set, intermission, and the beginning of the second set.  Not quite what I expected when my friend said we should go (she didn't join me), but I'm glad to have heard Mr. Harris and to be in that Minneapolis institution one final time.  Minneapolis Cider plus tip, tips for the band, and a mild polish sausage from a cart vendor who was just outside Palmer's: $17.
• Oh, before I took the light rail to Palmer's I dove into this, er, really clean downtown bodega called the Players Club.  I got Powerball tickets there totalling: $12.
• On Saturday the 23rd I went to The Great Minnesota Get-Together for the second time, primarily to see the Grandstand concert which was Atmosphere & Friends.  I wish I got the Somali Street Fries, but I had no idea at the time that the reviews would be nearly unanimous in their praise for it.  But I did go out on a limb and purchased the Sweet Squeakers (as well as a trusty small blueberry basil lemonade) from the Blue Barn; a frozen Blu from West End Brews (which I think is just LuLu's); and a Cherry Bigfoot Limeade Float.  Total damage: $44.75
• Thursday, August 21 ... went to the opening day (actually evening) of the State Fair since I got out of work at a decent hour to put in a properly long visit.  I usually go during the first day to knock off the mainstays I want to eat; my plan, even though I didn't really follow it this year, was to devote other visits to the new foods.  So, I got a pina colada from Manny's Tortas; the cheese curds from Mouth Trap; a honey lemonade (with tip) from the honey exhibit in the Agriculture-Horticulture Building; fried pickles; that soft-serve beer for the first time; a Minnecookiedough Pie; and a lychee colada from Union Hmong Kitchen at which I believe I got fucked out of six cents due to a combination of the owner not differentiating between cash and charge prices, the owner not getting dimes or nickels or pennies for change, and a really, really shitty cashier.  They had a new food for the Fair, but I stayed the hell away from them because I was upset.  Anyway, I notice that I usually get my fill of Fair food and drink once I cross the $50 threshold.  On this first day, I blew way, way past that: $72.75.
• To Wednesday the 20th, where I had the day off and spent the afternoon going to get my car washed.  I charged the wash, so I used cash for the tip: $5.
• I then got a shave from the learning school close by.  With tip: $14.
• Father paid me back for Powerball tickets, but I doubt he paid me back on this exact date.  An Infusion of: $20.
• On Tuesday, August 19 I fucked ***i*.  And thank Buddha inflation hasn't hit with her: $120.
• Monday the 18th ... I needed money to buy lottery tickets, so I stopped by the bank to get money.  I then walked over to Caribou to get a small mocha with oak milk, and I thought I might as well pay with cash instead of through the app.  I was shocked at how pricey it was.  Well, mochas these days are expensive, but I thought that oat milk for me was going to be free.  Turns out oat milk is free only if purchasing through the application; otherwise, it's a buck extra.  Well, shit, good to know.  But at least I got the trivia question right.  With tip: $7.03.
• Went to Hooters after work to use a calendar coupon.  Hooters also upcharges if you use your credit card, so I now primarily pay with moolah when at Hooters.  With tip: $32.
• Saturday, August 16 -- after watching the MNUFC Match I moseyed on over to the Midway Saloon.  I had a ton of beer that day, but I was thirsty, so I just bought a Coke.  With tip: $5.50.
• Father paid me back for Powerball tix, but I'm sure he didn't pay me back on this exact day.  Still, an Infusion of: $20.
• To Tuesday the 12th, where I went to my alumni game-watching bar to make sure 1) the bar was still standing and 2) that they would still welcome us.  With tip: $14.
• Father paid me back for Powerball tix, but I'm sure he didn't pay me back on this exact day.  Still, an Infusion of: $20.
• On Monday, August 11 I wanted to go to the Heights Theater to see Waiting For Guffman, which I have heard many great things about.  It's OK; it has those quotable lines ("I hate you, and your ass face!"), but otherwise it has that cringe mockumentary approach that I find somewhat condescending.  Paid money for the ticket, a small pop and popcorn, and tips for concessions and the organ player: $30.
• Back to Saturday, July 26 ... Palmfest was at Palmer's Bar.  It's a weekend-long festival of local bands just, you know, playing, which was Palmer's total reason to exist, and that reason was mover than enough.  Cover, an orange Jameson slushie, a Fulton 300, and tips for those two drinks came out to: $29.
• Wednesday the 23rd: Went to A Bar Of Their Own to watch a Women's EURO Semifinal.  It was raining cats and dogs out there, damn.  With tip I paid: $28.
• Father paid me back for Powerball tickets, and then some.  I think he paid me on this exact date.  An Infusion of: $20.
• Monday the 21st was the last week where **y said she could accommodate my, uh, carnal needs because her daughter was in class.  I hadn't been serviced by her in a long, long time.  Partly it was because of the distance, partly because she had people staying with her for an extended period.  But it was worth the wait because, like I said when I (kind of) blog posted about her, she bit my pee-pee.  Goddamn, that was glorious!  Total: $150.
• **y and I talked for a little bit, to catch up on old times.  She only went topless, but she put her bra and shirt on while I was laying on her daughter's bad, completely naked with my legs open.  But I had to leave, unfortunately.  Not only did she need to pick up her daughter, I had to go meet a friend who was only going to be in town until the next afternoon.  So I had to drive all the way from the south metro to the north to pick her up and decide to have a quick beer at this place I have never been to that's kind of close to where we both live.  She used her credit card for the both of us, so I paid her back for the drink and soup I got: $23.
• Finally, back on Saturday, July 19, after an alumni function, I made my (now annual) tradition of going to Tongue In Cheek to eat.  I was going to go for the steak, but because the guy sitting next to me did, I opted, for the second year in a row, for the ramen.  I think I was there a long time because I remember intently scrolling through my phone.  Anyway, with tip I paid a very, very expensive: $76.

And once again I say to myself I have to do these more often.  Good through September 1.

The 2025 Minnesota State Fair Rookie Food Of The Year Is ...

... not a food.

First of all, I apologize for sending this out with one day left in the Fair.  Things are still shitty at home, where I don't feel safe, and I frankly am not writing this with full focus.  However, I also believe that I've been delayed in naming a Rookie Food Of The Year because, for the first time in a long time, there doesn't seem to be a consensus pick, at least not until now.  There have been a lot of raves, but I am looking for unanimity (or near-unanimity) from every single website that reviews new State Fair foods, and there simply wasn't one this year.  Maybe this speaks to the "Pitchforkian" scrutiny that comes with the popularity of new foods there; people declare themselves gatekeepers at something they and everybody else loves in order to put their stamp on the foods that uphold the greatness of The Minnesota State Fair.  Or, this speaks to how each food simply didn't pass everyone's muster.  Or, there are so many new foods that some sites simply didn't review them.

Someone has put out a spreadsheet trying to aggregate the reviews to come up with a winner.  Unless a website was added, the overall winner there is the Somali fries of Oasis Grill & Hoyo Sambusas, which, I have to say, Dara Moskowitz Grumdahl of Minneapolis/St. Paul Magazine did not like.  (She instead gave kudos to the restaurant's other new food, the sambusas.)  I wanted to try it, but I didn't have time before the Atmosphere & Friends concert on the first Saturday, and this is the Midtown Global Market stall, the only place on the Fairgrounds that splits its spot with two vendors taking either the front or back half of The Great Minnesota Get-Together.

So, I am going to kind of place this by ear and give this award to something that, from every place I've seen that has reviewed it, has raved about it: The beer ice cream.  Technically it's called the Soft Serve Royal Raspberry Beer, and the proprietor of LuLu's Public House seemingly invented it.  Beer (in this case a sour called Berliner Weisse from Pryes Brewing) was somehow turned into a sorbet.  It's served in a cone, but gosh, no kids can eat it.

I got it twice.  It's a technical marvel.  It looks like ice cream and it takes like beer.  Also, and this is huge for me, it doesn't melt and run onto your fingers.  But the taste is kind of off.  I like sours, which is what this is, and this tastes like a sour, but I didn't completely enjoy it.  Maybe the visual of an ice cream cone is making my mind form expectations of how what I was eating should taste like, and since it doesn't, I am a bit disappointed.  But still, I liked it enough, and how the guy pulled off what he pulled off is something that should be around for years to come.

Went to the Fair again (second of four, hopefully) last/Saturday night.  Yeah, the babes continue to be out in force, thank the Lord.

I did not go out to Palmer's last Sunday after all.  I just couldn't see myself transferring from the light rail to the bus that was there because of light rail construction.  So I am taking yet another shot at seeing him tonight.  It's weird going out this time of year and not go to the State Fair, I'll be honest.  That's the gravitational pull of the Fair.  But there are only three more Sundays to see him before Palmer's shuts down, and the ensuing Sundays will only get more packed.

Funny: I had never even heard of Cornbread Harris playing (for free) every Sunday at Palmer's until my friend, who I wanted to see all summer but couldn't until last month, told me about it.  She is the one, in fact, who suggested we go.  But for the past few Sundays, when I said I would be going, I asked if she was going and she said she couldn't.  So I am now enthusiastic for something another person suggested, and now that person won't be going.  Ironic, isn't it?

Wow, My Fucking Father Is Being An Asshole Again

Lately he's been telling me to take a shower.  A couple weeks ago he told me ordered me to take one every night.

It seems as if every time I come home late, My Fucking Father's in the kitchen eating something.  That fucking sucks because if he's up there, he has told me to take a shower.  And he did so tonight, after I came home from the concert.  And I don't know why it's this time what he said infuriated me.  Maybe this was the last straw, or maybe it was a follow-on from earlier in the day when he kept shoving apples in my face telling me to eat them.  But I tried escaping to the bathroom to avoid him saying it, and I don't know why I did that, because he blurted out, "OK, go take a shower and go to sleep."

Thing is ... I just took a shower.  I was kind of stinky today -- just a tad, but I helped My Fucking Father move chairs out of my parents' minivan, I walked from parking at one end of St. Paul to the X at the other, and on my way back I walked through a pretty heavy rainstorm.  I really, really wanted to disobey My Fucking Father and just go to bed ... but I feel pretty fresh now, to be honest.  No, it's Father asserting control again just because he wants to.  I can't let him have that, even if he got me this time -- and I have to admit, part of me showering just now is me giving to him.

I can't wait for them to leave.  Fuck it, I can't wait for My Fucking Father to die.  Controlling asshole.

Now This Is Best Laid Plans Ruined

So I am looking up light rail times because I plan on taking the Green Line from St. Paul to Palmer's, like I said I would.  And goddammit, light rail service is shut down for a good part of the route from Cedar-Riverside.  So if I am going to pull off this plan, I have to either just take this replacement but to take me the rest of the way to Palmer's and then start off my way back eastbound on this replacement bus, or drive to Palmer's and then to downtown St. Paul.  The former sounds really hectic because I don't know where this bus will drop off or pick up, plus this is another transfer for which I have to worry about time.  The latter ruins my plans of parking before the Nine Inch Nails crowd in St. Paul, or I will probably have to duck out early (while they are playing the hits) to catch the last light rails out of downtown.

Wow, this fucking sucks.  I need a nap to figure out what I am going to do.

Nine Inch Nails Concert

So I just bought a ticket to the Nine Inch Nails concert.  I've complained in the past about finding the perfect time to buy a ticket -- buy too early and I might be paying more than I should, wait it out and get shut out altogether.  Well, I just got a ticket for $36.15 through SeatGeek.  Nine Inch Nails last toured more than three years ago and they're shopping their newest music, which is not a new album but the soundtrack for the latest Tron film.  Are those the reasons I bought this for about $20 cheaper than face?

I am looking forward to tonight.  As tired as I said I was in my last blog post -- and I am -- I look forward to the challenge of doing two music concerts on the same night ... which, I just realized as I brushed my teeth, I did just a fortnight ago.  (But back on the 2nd I went from The Dakota to First Avenue; here, I'm going from Cedar-Riverside to downtown St. Paul, so that will be an added challenge.)  I look forward to seeing my friends -- one at Palmer's, then at least one of my high school buddies at NIN.  I believe there will be more because we all were listening to The Downward Spiral our senior year.

You know what I am not looking forward to?  Well, Trent Reznor & Co. are supposed to end their show by around 10:40, and tomorrow/Monday I have to work, so that won't be fun.  Also, I took a look at the band's setlist.  They're not ones to change it up, and though it looks as if Nine Inch Nails will play the hits at the end like most bands do ("Hurt" looks to be the last song, and there doesn't seem to be an encore, BTW), there isn't the spontaneity from changing up the setlist that, I feel, makes the show I go to a special one because it isn't quite like all the others.  But I have to confess: Besides the hits, I am not familiar with NIN music.  Come to think of it, I'm not much of a Nine Inch Nails fan.  So, why did I buy a ticket then?  To say I saw them in an arena?  To park for free in St. Paul?

Well, I am seeing these guys for a bargain.  That ain't bad.