Make Mine Mike

My wife and I have switched places.

When the guys at the office wanna stop at the local Hollywood grease vendor, I politely decline. Like always, I've brought my healthy high fiber lunch to work. Besides, as delicious as Molly's Hamburgers could be, the problem is I couldn't possibly calculate the Weight Watcher Points value. I tell my wife, sure, we can check out that new tapas place on Main Street... lemme just make sure I save up enough points. And the only way I'll manage to make it to my friend's Superbowl bash this weekend is by bringing healthy snacks I make from the Healthy Girl cookbook.

Adelphia, meanwhile is exercising every day. Not once in a while, mind you. Not even taking a day or two off like me. Every day. When it's not her special shake your booty yoga Pontius Pilates class, it's a serious power walk. These started off as a short constitutional around the neighborhood, but they keep getting longer and longer and even are including running to the routine. I sometimes see her when I'm out for my weekend 10-milers on the beach... and have to keep running to keep up with her power stride. I'm very proud of her, so I don't mind when she informs me of things I've been trying to tell her for the past 2 years -- about how this shit's better than Xanax or Vicodin, about which podcasts make the miles go by, or the interesting houses you pass in Venice, like the one with the Buddha statue or the optical illusion wall... But she's so fanatical we have to work our vacation plans around her new addiction. I have to remind her that Himalayan hiking trails don't usually have a pool nearby where they serve you fruity drinks with an umbrella.

We're both getting in good shape. But today's only Thursday and I feel like it's Freaky Friday.

Scattered weekend revelations:

1. Yahoo news is plagiarizing my blog. They had an article recently that echoed my post from a while back about how Facebook usage has diminished real-life interpersonal contact. It's like I've been saying all along. Last week I asked a friend how he's doing, and he said, "Well, if you were on Facebook, you would know."

2. The New York Times also had an article about how Hollywood may have helped America embrace the idea of a black president, simply by portraying the TV or movie role of Commander-in-Chief with an impressive, intelligent African-American actor (e.g., Morgan Freeman in Deep Impact and that All-State insurance guy on "24"). Thing is, I started writing a post saying the exact same thing months ago when Obama was elected, but was too busy to finish it and then it didn't seem timely, until this week, around his inauguration. Great, now the Times is stealing my thoughts, too.

3. My wife has this interesting theory that Huey Lewis & the News are to the 1980s what Hootie & the Blowfish are to the 1990s. She explains that both had a unique (albeit innocuous) sound when they first emerged, were hugely popular -- even with college kids -- with a string of hit songs, and then shortly after the peak of their success, became considered extremely lame. A punchline. But, she says, if you hear their songs now, you can't deny that they're catchy and fun and you feel nostalgic for that bygone era. (This was discussed after hearing "The Power of Love".) But who, she asks, is the corresponding group for the '00 years? I racked my brain, but I realized I don't know too many bands from this past decade. Namewise, none seem be referred to by one guy & his backup; they're all The "something": The Killers, The Shins, The Hives, or three word titles like Plain White Tees, Gym Class Heroes or, I dunno, Off Key Whiners or We Suck Bigtime. In fact, it all sounds pretty lame to me. But I was somewhat pleased with myself for figuring out who was the equivalent band from the '70s -- K.C. and the Sunshine Band. Uh-huh uh-huh, I like it, uh-huh uh-huh.

5 thoughts regarding my nephew's bris last week:

1. Are all rabbis frustrated stand-up comedians? Or just the mensches I've met lately -- the ones we interviewed for our wedding, who officiated my mother's recent headstone unveiling and this schticky alter cocker? He had a jokey rejoinder for every occasion. ("No thanks, if I ate a bagel at every bris, I'd look like a bagel!") Still, you don't make fun of the moyle for his borscht-beltiness -- the guy's skilled with highly specialized knives. Sorta like samurai swords for the shvantz. Oh jeez, it's contagious.

2. Speaking of which, someone I know expressed his disdain for his ritual. "Oh, you think they should cut the cutting?" I said. He said that sounded like a bumper sticker. "No," I said. "'Honk if you're for foreskins' sounds like a bumper sticker."

3. It's the only bris I've attended aside from my own. I doubt I winced as much the first time.

4. How can such a tiny little thing on such a tiny little thing bleed so much? I held the little dude for a long time in the other room, away from the family. Eventually he stopped crying, but soon I was the one getting upset -- if I stayed there any longer, there wasn't gonna be any sesame bagels or whitefish left for me.

5. Despite the last few posts, I promise this site won't turn into a baby blog.

My two biggest holiday gifts:

New TV
42"
Flat-screen, sleek, black panel
Easy installation and covered for up to 3-year warranty
Perfect for hundreds of digital TV channels
Provides clear picture and state-of-the-art sound
Displays infantile programming
Takes up a lot of space in our living room
Great for DVDs and Blu-Rays
Will be outshined by next year's model
Costs a lot, but was on sale at Target, and used wedding gift cards

New Nephew
20" and growing
Puffy, roly-poly, pinkish
Requires serious maintenance and up to 3 years of diapers
Perfect 5 digits on each hand and foot
Often messy and noisy
Displays infantile behavior
Can hold in your arm, but also requires bassinet, stroller, baby seat, etc.
Cute in blue Osh-Kosh B'Gosh clothes
Will be outspoken for years to come
Costs a fortune, but my sister can hopefully handle it.