Solonor's Inkwell

Yes, it’s another “year end review/top XYZ list/bitching about what you didn’t accomplish” post. Everyone else does them, too, so don’t roll your eyes at me, buddy.

Personally, 2008 wasn’t great, but it wasn’t terrible. I didn’t lose my job like some of my friends did. I still have a few crumbs left in my retirement pot. My candidate won. The daughter graduated high school and went off to college. I got a fancy new blog. I started using Facebook more. I jumped back on board the Twitter train. And everyone is coming out healthy at the end.

Roof? Check. Food? Check. Clothing? Check. Income? Check. Health? Check.

A lot of geeky icons passed into another realm of existence this year. Vampira, Gary Gygax, Arthur C. Clarke, Stan Winston, Forrest J. Ackerman, Majel Barrett Roddenberry, Indiana Jones…

Not to mention Richard Widmark, Charlton Heston, Dick Martin, Sydney Pollack, Harvey Korman, Bo Diddley, Jim McKay, Tim Russert, Cyd Charisse, George Carlin, Bernie Mac, Isaac Hayes, Paul Newman, Bettie Page, Van Johnson, Odetta, Studs Terkel, Michael Crichton and Eartha Kitt.

Highlights of the year:  We got a new cat. Pepperkat got a car. We saw Spamalot. I sang in a bar. We started playing D & D 4th Edition. Went to a Red Sox game.

Best movies: Young At Heart and Iron Man.

The Dark Knight was dark and well-done, but not especially fun. Tropic Thunder was fun, but not great. Incredible Hulk was pretty okay, too.

Best TV: Pushing Daisies (I hate ABC for screwing this up then canceling it.)

Heroes has been kinda “meh” for me. It’s had great moments, but not a very engaging storyline. I’m hoping it will pick up in the next run. Of course, my love for Doctor Who, Bones, The Daily Show and Colbert, Mythbusters, Good Eats, Psych and South Park hasn’t abated. We spent the first half of the year watching Angel re-runs on TNT every morning from series beginning to end, then Olbermann for the last half of the year. Pretty much over the lefty outrage stage now, so we’re looking for a new morning routine. It ought to be exercise, but it will more likely be Lost.

I’ve been listening to a lot of podcasts this year, too. Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me, All Songs Considered, Fresh Air, and This American Life have all kept me company during the work commute. And we listened the heck out of The Story during our trips to Tallahassee.

Best video which I’d love to see become a regular series: Dr. Horrible’s Sing-A-Long Blog

Best independent fanboyish things on the internets: I’m A Marvel, I’m A DC and The Ten Doctors

Best gaming: I don’t really have time to play anything much, and if my plans for ’09 hold, I’ll have even less. Still sticking with Lord of the Rings Online, but I have my eyes on Star Trek Online. Spore didn’t live up to the hype. I played it for a while, but it’s not what I expected. I do jump on Medieval 2: Total War a bit, but mainly it’s still Out of the Park Baseball and our silly online league.

That about wraps it up for this year. Have a happy New Year, everyone, and be safe!

I looked back at the last six years of Christmases as recorded in this blog (this is #7). We’ve had everything from fun times with visiting relatives to rainy, sickness-filled crapfests. But the thing that ties them all together is the fact that I get to shake my booty (the ill-gotten loot kind, not the junk in the trunk kind) in y’all’s faces. Let this not be the exception, shan’t we?

The big theme of this year’s haul is media.

I got videos:  I’m Not There, the odd-looking Dylan pic with six different actors portraying Mr. Zimmerman which is something I’ve been meaning to see for a while,  and John Adams, which I’ve been whining about not being able to see since it came out (we don’t get HBO, and I’ve yet to be able to find a copy at Blockbuster)

I got CD’s:  The Who Sell Out, the psychedelic bridge between pre-punk Who and rock opera Tommy Who, and Thriller, the only reason to own any Michael Jackson at all. I had both of these in my old vinyl collection years ago, and it’s nice to hear them again.

I got a book about music:  1,000 Recordings to Hear Before You Die, which is a time-suck extraordinaire, since you can just randomly open the thing and get sucked into a stream of skipping from artist-to-artist, as each listing points you to a related one.

I also got a Red Sox jersey for our eventual trip to Fenway and, last but not least, I got a ukulele! It’s got some issues, as it refuses to stay in tune, but…I got a ukulele!

That’s pretty much it from here. Pepperkat is off to the boyfriend’s house. Whiny is playing on the Xbox. And Mrs. R is fiddling with her new camera accessories. We have pumpkin coffee in the pot, cinnamon rolls on the plate, and the promise of baked ziti for supper. Life is good.

I hope all your holiday wishes came true–even the ones that didn’t involve booty (lootly or otherwise).

We had our office Christmas potluck/gift exchange yesterday, and our Ukranian development manager brought something that was bright red. We all thought it was dessert. It turned out to be something called Selyodka pod Shuboy, which translates to “herring in a fur coat.”

Oh. Mah. Gawd.

I’m still swooning at its awesomeness. (In fact, I just grabbed a heaping helping of leftovers.)

Tonight we had our annual Christmas party at church. As opposed to Saturday night’s debauch-fest, this one is for the kids.

Usually, we sing carols. The handbell choir plays. We force the older kids to do a lame skit. Sing some more carols. Santa passes out presents. Then we eat some cookies and go home.

Ah, but this year they made the mistake of putting crazy people in charge. So, instead of a boring old skit, we decided to let the kids go wild (with yours truly egging them on, naturally).

We spent a couple of weeks bouncing ideas off each other for a version of “The Night Before Christmas” in which the various scenes were presented in the most twisted way possible.

For example, when “the stockings were hung by the chimney with care,” three of us duct-taped various socks (including one foul-smelling gym sock) to the mantel. And you have three guesses as to who came out in a feather boa, tiara, and wand when “visions of sugar plum (fairies) danced in their heads…”

La pièce de résistance came when “he was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot” and one of our kids came out in a bear costume and we started to stick roses to his cheeks, put a cherry on his nose, stick a bow in his mouth, hang a wreath on his head, etc., as a literal (and warped) interpretation of Santa Claus.

Okay, so, I guess you had to be there…

I figured the little kids would find it hilarious, but it was a smash with the older folks, too.

Later, three of us did a 2-guitar and cello trio that was wicked cool. Our little kids sang a couple of songs, including one with a sweet solo. And, of course, we sang carols and had Santa pass out presents and ate enough cookies to put ourselves in sugar comas. I think Venita even got a picture of the pastor with a wreath around his neck.

Finally, as everyone was wrapping it up, someone got too close to the fire alarm with a little kid on their shoulder, and all hell broke loose. We got out of there just in time to see the fire trucks coming the opposite way.

Admit it. You wish you went to my church.

Best. Partay. Evar.