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New York, 6:59 PM
Wed Nov 25
55 posts in the last 24 hours
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06:10 PM
My parents have been divorced for about 19 years now, but for many years got along remarkably well during family functions. Being an immigrant clan, we don't have a great deal of extended family in this hemisphere, so my parents put aside their myriad grievances in favor of keeping our smallish family in one place. That is, (dun dun dunnn) until a few Thanksgivings ago.
It was the first Thanksgiving at my father's trailer, and since most of my extended family had to work through the holiday that year, it was only my mother, my father, his girlfriend, my sister, and me.
Halfway through the dinner my sister blurted out the secret she'd learned the previous day, that my father had eloped with his girlfriend the previous year. My mother smugly confessed that, after my dad's odd requests for various legal documents, she'd put two and two together sooner than the ink was dry. So as it turned out I was the last to know.
While I was a little miffed at being left out (I would've loved to have taken my persistently sober father out for a shit-faceous bachelor party), I wasn't much bothered by the news, but my father was disproportionately embarrassed because he has weird privacy issues. He took his perceived humiliation out on my mother after she corrected his English one too many times, and let loose on her with a stream of red-faced, sputtering vitriol that sent her, sobbing, for the door.
Now my sister and I have double-duty holidays, alternating from one parent to the other from lunch to dinner, and we're getting fatter every year.
06:02 PM
05:59 PM
We show up about an hour before dinner is supposed to be served, and sister and boyfriend are schnockered, the place is a wreck and no food has been prepared. We put the turkey in the oven, do all the mise en place, clean the joint and hope that the opposing family is normal. Well, we got the daily double with that wish, because the girl was close to mute and the boy was a match-twiddling psychopath. Many drinks later, there's slurring, verbal sparring, decades old grudges resurrected, and the occasional knick knack or lit candle being thrown about. Words can't describe the pandemonium and emotional maelstrom contained in this small one-bedroom place. Not to mention the cloud of cigarette smoke that thankfully obscures boyfriend and his spawn. That's when oldest sister's BOSS shows up at the door. He's hammered beyond recognition, glassy-eyed and barely standing. He drove from his house in another suburb... blotto and completely incoherent. Words fail me.
We get dinner on the table and I have to say I've seen funeral services that had more joie de vivre. It's either biting remarks, drunken slurs, or silence. My sister, my mother and I signal each other that we are OUTTA THERE the first possible moment. No one was interested in dessert, so a quick oh gosh gotta go home and feed the cats was offered, and we vamoosed as quickly as our feets would take us.
05:44 PM
05:09 PM
Something delightfully Chamber of Commercey about the way most powerful man in the world, the President of the United States, gives a plug to "thank Jaindl's Turkey Farm in Orefield, Pennsylvania, for donating those dressed birds for dinner."
Happy Thanksgiving, to all!
(click to see image)
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03:18 PM
'I hear of a remarkable recent gathering at Waddesdon Manor, Lord Rothschild's famous French chateau in Buckinghamshire. A shoot was taking place, though not all the party were shooting. As well as Lord Rothschild and his son Nat, the unofficial deputy prime minister, Lord Mandelson, was there, and also Lord Rothschild's country neighbour, Cherie Blair. Neither of them picked up a gun. Various young friends of Nat with double-barrelled or European princely names were shooting. But the keenest shot was Saif Al-Islam Gaddafi, son of the Libyan dictator, and the man who escorted the Lockerbie bomber, Al Megrahi, home to a hero's welcome in Libya in August.
Now that Libya has made its strange bargain with the West, Saif has taken up our traditional upper-class sport with delight. Near Tripoli, he has laid down 40,000 partridges. Unfortunately, raptors have consumed about half of them, but Saif invited friends, including Flavio Briatore of Formula 1 fame, to a shoot there a few weeks back, with lunch in a desert tent, and the bag was about 300. More recently, Saif was shooting in Spain, the guest of Alejandro Agag. Mr Agag is a businessman - managing director of Queen's Park Rangers, among other things - who used to be secretary-general of the European People's Party in the European parliament. He is a friend of Silvio Berlusconi and is married to the daughter of José Maria Aznar, the former prime minister of Spain (Tony Blair was at the wedding). Saif comes to England to shoot quite often, though I gather he has got into a bit of trouble about his guns with the airport authorities. Readers will remember that Lord Mandelson met Saif at Lord Rothschild's villa in Corfu days before the release of Al Megrahi. What are we to make of all this? It could be argued that the Gaddafis are better occupied shooting pheasants than blowing up airliners. It could also be argued that it is unusual for our deputy prime minister to be rubbing shoulders with a member of the family responsible for the biggest terrorist atrocity ever committed against British citizens.'
[www.spectator.co.uk]
#tips
02:39 PM
[www.tmz.com]
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02:40 PM
Do you live there by choice?
02:44 PM
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02:49 PM
Unless Geffen offers to buy Gawker from Denton for a eight (nine?) figure sum just to get this taken off.
02:58 PM
Ooooh... strategy. I like it!
#tips
01:33 PM
[blogs.reuters.com]