Beers with the boyz is good. Problem was, this is what I ordered:

Roasted pear and goat cheese pizza, with local hazelnuts and arugula, with the optional house-made duck prosciutto

That order did not keep it real. But I liked the proscuitto.

"Are the Red Sox playing the YankEEES?"
(I had no idea -- turns out they are)

"Is David Ortiz playing? Or is he still not feeling good?"

"Is Derek JEEter playing? Will he wear his home jersey or his road jersey?"

(singing) "Old gray mare just ain't what she used to be, Manny Ramirez ago."

"Daddy -- What are your thoughts on the love rectangle between A-Rod, Madonna, Lenny Kravitz, and Cynthia Rodriguez?"

Ok, I made that last one up.

I apologize for the misleading title, but I had to get your attention.

I share this with you with the best of intentions. Your normally great google reader shared items feeds have become watered down recently by a bevy of auto posts. I can appreciate the occasional gallery of a carbon fiber skinned car or fascinating stuff like SUV plants being closed down in middle America, but at a certain point it's too much of a good thing.

I've seen more concept rumors and galleries of 2009 models in the past month than I can shake a stick at (and I shake a mighty fast stick). Please dial back the 'sharing'.

If you don't relent, I will be forced to double my Obama related Wonkette and Huff Post share rate.

Thank you. That is all.

Mike: "That's the Celtics"

Sam: "Well, what team is THAT?"

Mike: "The Lakers"

Sam: "What team is the GREEN team?"

Mike: "The Celtics"

Sam: "The BOSTON CELTICS?"

Mike: "Yep"

Sam: (Sees this picture)

Sam: "Daddy! A girl plays for the BOSTON CELTICS!"

For example, a post by a fully l33t member of the blogosphere might say:

Since the prank came out 2 weeks ago, we've all been Rickrolled, but check out the latest in internet memes [insert link to hipster site who's author has already sold out to a book deal]

META.

S: "Daddy, there's 2 DOLLARS in here!"

M: "Really?" (Looks over) "Actually, Sam, that's 10 dollars. Those are 2 5 dollar bills."

S: (Wide eyed) "Hey, who's that GUY ON THERE?!?"

M: "That's Abraham Lincoln."

S: (Almost as if in a trance) "Abraham Lincoln, our 16th president..." (trails off)

That one puzzled me and Beck for a few days until we popped in one of his Hard Hat Harry videos and heard him talking about how "Abraham Lincoln, our 16th president, lived in a log cabin."

So chalk this one up to TV babysitting, not childhood genius. Also, Sam (embarrassingly) can and will identify HANNAH MONTANA! every time we see a poster/t shirt/video/mug/candy/lip gloss with her on it. So it's not like we're only exposing him to useful stuff.

For the pathetic/curious, I leave you with a Hard Hat Harry link. Pretty rad.

Drinking beer at lunch on a Tuesday.

That is all.

S: "Daddy?... I think you are... just about the NICEST... boy in the whole wide world."

Eerily similar, right? And both are great books which get through to me even in my sleep deprived stage.

But looking at them both on my bedstand got me thinking... Barry is looking for a running mate, why not David Allen? What does a visionary, big thinking, agent of change need more than a ruthlessly productive, tactical, organized productivity czar? Wouldn't this take all the air out of the 'no-specific-plans' and 'impractical idealism' criticism constantly hurled at him?

Imagined dialog:

"The people think I'm hopecasting (sigh). What's in my folder for 'never', David? Get off the Nicorettes? Exactly. At least nobody can say I'm taking on everything."

And what would Obama's workflow notes look like:

"(Context telephone) Next step in GOAL -- fix health care, restore America to world leadership, create unity between red/blue states, re-strengthen New Deal policies, exit Iraq -- call 10 superdelegates to beg for their votes". YES WE CAN.

I Like This One, originally uploaded by ikeepitreal.

The newest Foster is here, and she has kicked things off well in the real-keeping department (if you consider pooping 5 minutes AFTER EVERY DIAPER CHANGE keeping it real).

In true family-blog form, I will share the details of the birth and then get on to what it means to me (pictured daddy above).

Part 1 -- details of the birth:

On Thursday night, Feb 7th -- beginning of Chinese New Year in the Year of the Rat, for what that's worth -- Becky started having some light contractions. She had been getting these every night, subjecting us to a handful of false alarms and sleepless nights prior to baby arriving. We watched LOST (Claire and Aaron are totally in the Oceanic 6) and Survivor (bye-bye Fairplay) and tried to settle down for bed. Not happening. The contractions got stronger and closer together, and we called the great DEBBI to come watch Sam at 3:15 in the AM.

Er, we tried to -- the great DEBBI was heading out to Boise on Friday and had put her cell phone(s) on vibrate in her purse. Panic ensued at ikeepitreal HQ as we tried to find a backup. Luckily, my stubborn persistence was rewarded as I got through to the great DEBBI on the 7th try at 3:30. She rushed over and we headed to the hospital.

Becky likes to joke about her 'birthing plan' being:

1) Get an epidural
2) Go to sleep
3) Drop that shorty

Ok, I tweaked #3 a bit, but I like it better that way. ANYHOO -- that's pretty much how it worked out. By 6:00 they gave her an epidural, we got a couple of power naps in, and a couple of units of Pitocin later Becky was ready to push. Only, the Dr. was in surgery downstairs :( The nurses thought the baby would come out quickly so they told Becky to "labor down" until the Dr. got out of surgery in 1/2 hour. I'm not a medical expert, but I believe that "labor down" means -- "hold your legs together and make sure not to drop that shorty".

Long story short -- Becky "labored down" for 1/2 hour, and pushed Kate out in less than 10 minutes (contrast that with more than 4 hours of pushing for Sam !).

Kate was born at 10:48 AM. 7 pounds, 1 ounce and 18" long/tall.

Part 2 -- What it means to me

Everyone says there is something special between Dads and baby girls and I'm starting to understand it. She is *really* special, and I have caught myself using a lot of language like "cutie-pie" and "sweetie". I still intend to push back a bit on tutu costumes and will drag her along to the Monster Jam with us, but she is nuzzling that fuzzy little head into my softest spots (and no, I'm not talking about the excessive girth in my midsection) quite effectively.

I'm home for a bit, the family is happy, and we're doing great. More to come on this channel.

But I'm not angry. I can't even muster up a snarl. As long as Edgar wasn't mentioned in the report (he wasn't -- WOO!), it is pretty meaningless to me. Even though the 2000 and 2001 Mariners lost to the overwhelmingly-doped-up Yankees in the ALCS (I spent $200 to get into the game where Clemens threw a 1 hitter), it feels like water under the bridge at this point.

Until this Andy Pettitte story came out. Now it's starting to get to me, and I think we'll see a dozen or so more of these releases before it's over. The no-apology apology. Here's the quote from Pettitte:

"If what I did was an error in judgment on my part, I apologize," Pettitte said Saturday in a statement released by his agent. "I accept responsibility for those two days."

COULD THAT BE ANY MORE WATERED DOWN? Sheesh. From my read, he's not even sure it was an error in judgement, much less an error. And thanks for accepting responsibility for two freaking days in your life. Way to be a man.

Now that's the kind of thing that can stoke my blogging/internet ranting vitriol. Thanks for waking up my anger, Andy. Now I can begin to properly burn and complain about the 0-5 record the M's had against you and Clemens in those series mentioned above. Juicers (Sigh).

Redneck rodeo fans and Manchesterian * boxing fans? I'm guessing the MGM ring might not be the only place to see a good fight this weekend.

Even if they can't all get along, I hope we can all agree that Baby Spice is our favorite.

* Yeah I looked that up.

Miles Davis - Kind of Blue.

Miles and Sinatra are the only stylists to have perfectly placed every note, AFAIC. The beginning and end of modal jazz. Accessible and freaking awesome.

The Postal Service - Give Up.

Great lyricist and singer combines with a incredible electronic beatsmith? I'll have more please. I don’t know if Give Up invented or just popularized electro-pop but this is the genre's best.

Weezer - Weezer (Blue Album).

Every song on this album is fantastic (Only in Dreams is the exception that proves the rule). Who hasn't taken a road trip with their high school friends and successfully sung all the lyrics to the blue album along with the stereo? What's that, I'm the only one? Then you guys suck.

Of course! Sam discovered one of his first 'guy things'. THE BUTTON. The button is a magical zone on the male body that acts like epidermic narcolepsy. Simply slide your hand inside your waistband, rest it above the crotch, and out you go.

Glad you discovered it son. Enjoy.