Yesterday I took both kids over to Choo Choo Train's house to watch boxing. The fight was in Saudi Arabia, so the main event was at 3:45PM Central Time. That's where it's at! I'm down with those rich oil tycoons booking all the fights out there for that sweet start time. Us dads were loving the timing of that fight and having a couple of cold ones. Choo Choo has two of the craziest untrained dogs of all time. We love hanging out there, but those little dogs scare the hell out of all the kids. Erik Noisewater asked me, "Are the crazy dogs going to be there? They jump on the couches, and they jump on everything." At one point I stepped out back and Choo Choo is like, "Wait, watch your step!" And I stepped in dog poo that was directly off of the back step. That's where they poop? And you just leave it there? It's nuts over there, but we get used to it.

Thanksgiving back in the Bay Area in California was a great time, but the weather was no better than Chicago. 40 degrees and rainy all weekend. I hit a personal record in the turkey trot race I do out there every year. Not bad for an old fart. 

Erik Noisewater is up an hour past his bedtime, talking gibberish in his bedroom, but I'm determined to post every day that I possibly can. So I'm ignoring the little rascal. For now.

My mother-in-law is in town for a few months helping us with the kids, and she really is just the best. She took us out for Chinese style duck tonight, and we feasted like animals. It's great to live with all the Asian restaurants down the street on Argyle Street. For my money it's every bit as good as actual China Town. 

Okay, this kid won't sleep so I have to tend to him. Be well, friends. 

Dr. Ken, Mrs. Noisewater, and Pau: The Oneness

I have been writing on this blog for a long time now.  Around 10 years.  Who I was when I started was a suddenly single young man (but pretty much a boy) fresh off a divorce.  There are entries about my single days on here that are sometimes funny, sometimes embarrassing, but always me.  No matter how much I have evolved and grown up over these years, it's still me.  And the roller coaster of my career changes are almost as nutty as the dating saga.  And yes, a lot of drunken tales of lunacy.

Then one day I decided to grow up.  I decided to make Mrs. Noisewater formally Mrs. Noisewater.

The ring was burning a hole in my pocket like Frodo walking through Middle Earth as we waded through the crowds in the Lincoln Park Zoo Lights.  Turns out Europeans must love lights and captive animals.  Sorry if you're European, but some of those folks can be a little pushy and shovey in a crowd.  We were both getting aggravated, and anger is not a good emotion to go on when one pops the question.

Then as we walked towards North Pond (a great little gourmet restaurant in the middle of the park), I thought somewhere en route I could do the deed.  Just as I was considering it, Mrs. pointed out that it was dark, swampy, and smelly.  She was right.  The Dagobah System* hardly has the right conditions for romance, so we forged ahead.

Anyone smell bat guano?

We were around a half hour early for our reservations, and she said we should just go in and have a bottle of wine at the bar while we wait.  I noticed that outside the restaurant there was a perfect skyline view overlooking the pond with some benches, so I said we should just sit down for a minute and enjoy the night and the view for a moment.  This is when she knew something was up because I wanted to do something like that rather than drink wine.

Essentially what I told her is that what I dig most about her is that she not only puts up with my weirdness, but she likes it.  She enjoys my company and we're both laughing all the time.  I then looked her in the eye, got one one knee, finally got that ring out of my pocket, and asked her if she was willing to spend the rest of her life with a nut like me.  She cried, said yes, and we eventually made our way inside.

The meal was awesome just like it was when we went at the same time last year (the day after Christmas - our relatively new tradition).  When we were getting ready to leave, Mrs. Noisewater pointed out that Pau Gasol (one of my favorite Chicago Bulls players) was sitting near the exit.  I decided I had to say something to him but not bother him and mess up his evening that he was having with a lady of his own.  I walked by, stopped by his table momentarily to say discreetly, "Hey Pau, keep it up.  Go Bulls.  Keep it up."  He smiled, gave me a fist pump, and I headed out of there high on life.  How could this day get any better?

Pau was surprised to see me that night.

I then surprised Mrs. Noisewater with an impromptu engagement party that I arranged with many of our good friends at a nice neighborhood bar down the street that has lots of peoples' dogs in there all the time for some reason.  We had some of our closest friends congratulating us, toasting us, and we were petting random peoples' adorable dogs.  What more can you ask for?

I know I have slowed writing production down a lot lately, but don't worry, folks.  I will NOT be that guy that finds love and then hangs up their blog.  I have seen that too many times, and I refuse to be that guy.  I want you all here with me when I move into another chapter of my life.  Thanks, everyone for being with me over the last decade.  It's been quite a ride.
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*That was my second nerdy reference.  Deal with it.  I'm a grown-ass nerd now.

The other night my lady and I were in Cody's, a great Chicago cozy dive bar, and there were like 3 dogs in there (it's a very dog-friendly bar), and for whatever reason a Filipino man was telling us how he ate dogs when he was a kid.  I thought this was interesting because while I have heard of this a lot, never have I met someone who openly talked about having done it.  He said they would have a pet dog, but then one day their dad would cook him up and they would all eat the son of a bitch.

Naturally, I had some questions, as I always do.  You would imagine he has to skin the thing to get all the fur off, so how do you just skin and gut the family dog after playing fetch and teaching him to sit and shake  all those years?  He explained that it is a third world country, so they had to do what they had to do to survive, which helped it make a little more sense to me.

Then again, I wasn't too sensitive to the subject to ask when a pizza arrived for him if he got any dog toppings on there?  He obviously wasn't offended, thankfully, when he responded, "I wish, bro!"

Great Weekend, But I Have One Regret

Until this weekend, I had never been to a wedding with coolers of beer with stickers on top saying which beers were in each one, and you could just reach in and grab them yourself. I'm telling you this because it led to HLP (Heterosexual Life Patner) and myself lining up the tops of them on our table in an attempt to drink every different type of beer, which led to horrible, horrible drunkenness on my part.

Back in our cottage with other guests, while in varying stages of blacking out watching the World Series, I threw a stuffed goose for this great dog that was along for the wedding, she jumped over a couch to get it, knocking red wine all over some poor guy's suit. I don't remember much of this, but apparently I thought this was hilarious and I never so much as apologized.

Now, I know this was stupid on my part, but when there's a stuffed goose and a terrific dog in the room with me, I'm not NOT going to throw the stuffed goose for the terrific dog. Right?

No, it was dumb, and I need to get my boozing under control . . .