A Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On

For those of you expecting some latter-day ode to Jerry Lee Lewis in these pages, forget it...this isn't an indictment of inter-family under-age love, nor is it a dismissal of Mr. Lewis's rollicking, vivacious mastery of the piano; it's just that in these pages, right this minute, he's not quite very relevant. So if that's what you came here hoping to find, go back to Google or whence yez came.

In the meantime, in this thing I call my life, there's always lots to discuss and not very much time in which to do so. Not only did the Yankees flame out -- more or less as expected -- this past week, my PC also pretty much crapped out as well, so I've been relegated to prepping blog-stuff on my LifeDrive and a wireless keyboard. It works better than one might think, but it similarly is even more complicated to formulate an idea (let alone witty, memorable prose) with a keyboard that is designed to be folded up and pocketed for easy portability. So the ideas have been coming fast and furious, but the output has not. So if you, along with the aforementioned Jerry Lee Lewis fans, are here seeking something Pulitzer-worthy, click again.

Actually, the title of this post has more to do with the fact that Kaia got into town earrrrrly Thursday morning...originally she had planned on being here in the afternoon on Wednesday, but deadlines and incredibly awful weather across the country (but mostly located in the Northeast) pushed her flight back about twelve hours, leaving her with a red-eye, and me with an early-morning visitor. Even if it was only 6:30AM when we first saw one another, it was -- as per usual -- great. So neither rain nor sleepiness nor time zone could impede the fact that we are never happier than we are when we're with one another. And by the time she and I made it to my family's house in New Jersey, we were both experiencing that "this is right" sensation that dominates our time together. Soon we'll make arrangements to make it full-time; but in the meantime, it's where we're at.

Otherwise, the main topics du jour are our upcoming office deadline, which always seem to blot out everything else we're doing therein, the conclusion to the Jewish New Year and the requisite holidays, and the upcoming SinFest a friend and I are throwing on Manhattan's East Side tonight. First, once this weekend is in the books, I'll be back to getting our deadline handled ASAP, so this is a sort-of last rites. As for the holidays, Kaia came in and she and I napped away the early part of Thursday and then spent the late morning getting ready and hit a synagogue on the Upper West Side until about 3:30PM; by then, we came back to my place, got some stuff together, then got her checked into her hotel and unpacked and then, as the rain continued to pour down, we headed on out to Jersey. We got there a bit late -- I think it was after 8 by the time we finally rolled into my family's driveway -- but better late than never. So we enjoyed a variety of goodies for the breaking of the fast -- egg, tuna, chicken and whitefish salad, bagels and lox, veggies, marinated garlic mushrooms, a blintz kugel (take all of the good things life has to offer and cook it up in a casserole dish and -- voila), et al. So as much as we didn't eat the 24 hours prior, we made up for in the 90 minutes at break-fast. We got back into the rain-soaked City after 11, then made our way from my apartment back to the hotel, and by the time we finally landed in bed, we were ready to sleep for a month. However, since Friday's a work day, it didn't quite work out that way.

I got up early with my cellphone's blaringly annoying rendition of the Mission Impossible theme echoing across the living room into our bedroom, and she continued to catch up on sleep. So by the time I got cleaned up and out the door, she was still recovering the lost (red-eye) sleep. By noon EST, she woke up and got her work done from the room while I addressed a variety of work-related stuff. I took some of it with me (a spreadsheet I'd been working on, conveniently in the Excel folder on my LifeDrive) and did some other review and workstuff while in the office. Around three-thirty, I headed over to the bar where the party is being held and got them our not-quite-final guest list; there's always add-ons, and this party's certainly no different, so we're assuming we'll wind up with about 75 or so people. Considering the weather, which has soaked the City to its core since Monday, finally let up this morning, I'm expecting a fun bunch of people. And since we opted to keep the guest list limited, there won't be any bullshit or aggravation once the doors open and the alcohol begins to pour. A friend of mine, when I was advising her of the particulars of tonight's soiree, asked me if my co-host and I had gotten a lot of shit as a result of our keeping the guest list limited and private. I advised her we had. She laughed knowingly and told us that it was hard to put together a party of people and not invite everyone. And I told her that we had a theory in handling the people that were unhappy we'd chosen to employ a guest-list instead of just an open-door policy to the party. "Fuck 'em."

It worked for Joe Pesci in "Goodfellas," until, of course, he got shot in the back of his head so his mother couldn't have an open casket at the funeral. It's a Sicilian thing...

Anyway, so the hours are melting away and we've got a full day ahead -- as per usual, we'll likely hit Soho, do a wee bit o' shopping, mebbe get lunch at Bar 89 or another of our usual haunts, and then we'll go back to the hotel, get cleaned up, get dressed and hit the Casa De Boogie and then the bar. One way or the other it ought to be a lot of fun.

I'll try checking in later, or at least take some pretty good notes and photos. In either case, if I'm not back in 72 hours, call Missing Persons and see if I've turned up anywhere.

Thanks.