Since I write most of my posts the night before, this means I didn’t blog Friday night or Saturday night. To be perfectly honest, if I weren’t into my second third glass of scotch and waiting for the oven to heat up so I can indulge in a hot apple turnover alá commode, I probably wouldn’t be blogging on a Sunday night. But, Beloved is on his way out of town again, after a mere 26 hours at home and I don’t want him to be gone. It was rather nice having him in bed Saturday night, if the truth be told. I won’t embarrass anyone by going into details about what happened in said bed, since our kids do read my blog – Hi, y’all! – but let’s just say he was as happy to be there as I was to have him.
Melancholy. I has it.
Blogging is a good way to deal with it.
Anyhoo, Beloved got home at 2:00 p.m. Saturday; that night we had reservations at Podunk’s “only 5 star restaurant” – they have REAL cloth napkins, don’t you know – and tickets to see Ron White at the Podunk Civic Center, which seats all of 4,000 if you put folding chairs on the floor.
Such a bustling metropolis.
Mr. White, for the most part, was quite funny…if you like middle-aged, foul-mouthed Texans with a penchant for Scotch and cigars. (Oh, wait – that pretty much describes me. Hmmmm. Well, at least I no longer smoke.) Seriously, though, some of his stuff – like a great many other comedians – relied far too much on juvenile sexual humor and a Lenny Bruce-like love of the “F Word”, but for the most part he was truly funny. His bit about his first encounter with a bidet – with a heated seat, no less – made me laugh until I cried.
I wish we could say we were just as happy with our dinner, but alas, no. The service sucked (we never saw a bread basket, the waiter didn’t ask us if we wanted anything to drink beyond our initial cocktail orders, didn’t even bother to refill our water glasses and I practcally had to beg for wine to go with our meal), the water and wine glasses were filthy, our appetizers were appallingly undercooked and it took forever for our entreés to arrive (they, surprisingly, were quite good). Beloved, who never tips under 20%, left less than 10% and reduced the maitre’d to a quivering, blubbering mass of protoplasm when the man asked us how we enjoyed our meal as we left.
Now hush – if you’d paid $120 for a dinner that only included 2 small glasses of single malt scotch, one glass of wine and NO dessert, you’d bite off the head of anyone who asked you how your meal was, too. It was especially disappointing because 1) we go out so seldom and 2) it was Beloved’s only night home in two weeks.
Oh, well, we had a good time at the show, although we both prefer a smaller venue for stand up comedy, and came home to persue, er, other entertainment. Which included watching The Incredible Hulk – not bad despite the fact that Liv Tyler completely lived down up to my expectations. Sunday morning we slept in until 9:00 a.m. (practically unheard of) and then watched Mel Brook’s The Producers with The Young One while I made brunch (eggs, bacon, butter fried potatoes and southwestern spoon bread; you know our arteries just love us, yes they do). That’s what The Young One gets for asking me what my favorite comedy film is. And I’m gratified to announce that he laughed all the way through it, including my favorite lines:
“You can’t shoot the actors! They’re not animals – they’re human beings!”
“Oh yeah? Have you ever eaten with one?”
Why that is my favorite line is a long story. I’ll write about it one day.
After that, I fell asleep on the sofa while Beloved watched the Cowboys game. The fact that I was unconscious for the duration is the only explanation for their 4 point victory. In fact, I woke up once, briefly, only to have Beloved exclaim, “We’re winning!! Go back to sleep!!”
So I did. Gladly. Do you realize how often I get to take a nap?? Yeah, well, you’d take advantage of it, too.
By 4:15 we were on our way to Cleveland so he could fly to Nebraska. To make matters worse so much more exciting, we have a chance of snow through Wednesday.
I’m so thrilled.