We are a few months into year 3 of our marriage and as you probably didn't notice, the hustle and bustle of everyday life has set in thus we have only updating this blog every month or so. That is not to say we don’t have our share of bumps, thrills, spills and chills worthy of being blogged, we just haven’t been able to keep up with them ourselves let alone share them with the whole wide world web. In an effort to establish a little continuity (like the “previously on” prologue of your favorite TV series) here are the happenings of the past month or so:
Cancer remains kicked for Roo’s mom. We are awaiting the results of the latest routine biopsy but have no reason to believe that the Lord has changed any plans and won’t continue to bless us with positive news. That could be because the Lord is very busy with one of his newer Angels. We sadly lost Roo’s Aunt last month due to an untreatable brain tumor. She is in a better place know but sorely missed. The outpour of support and love that I witnessed while we were in Scattertown for the funeral is a true testament to the importance and significance of family. We had a mini-family reunion on my mom’s side of the family last month, attending my cousin’s wedding in the northwest ‘burbs of Chicago. My dad, sister, brother and sister-in-law came up from Columbia last to attend the Bears-Panthers game last weekend. It was a long day and I’ll leave it at that for now. Hopefully, this short work week goes by fast as, on Thursday, we are headed to Key West, taking Roo’s sister to celebrate her 21st birthday. On the East Coast, the summer’s heat extended itself well into the fall, ruining my fall harvest of okra, tomatoes and watermelon. The key limes I thought I was growing turned out to just be weeds. I spent the entire baseball season wasting my twitter account on the Chicago Cubs. Every day, I dedicated a tweet (and a song) to those lovable losers in the hopes of scripting the soundtrack to a World Series season. I’ll wait til next year before mentioning them again.
Hopefully, we’ll have something new to share with the world before then. I am by no means implying that anyone loses sleep by not being updated on our lives but more so noting that I may be disappointed with myself for not doing so. I know that, in 2010, I have trouble remembering what Roo asked me to also pick up at the grocery store as I walk out the door, moments after she just asked. By 2060, the only way I will probably remember how beautifully in love Riley and I spent this past weekend will be because on one Sunday afternoon with the setting sun at my back and a cool 70 degree breeze in my face, while the dogs sleep at my feet and a cardinal seeks out sunflowers seeds at the feeder, with the faint sounds of a distant lawnmower being drowned out by the barks and shrills of the kids of the cul-de-sac, I remembered to write it down.
I love food, most of it at least. And I am a man, most days. So it makes perfect sense, then, that I love Man vs. Food on the Travel Channel. It’s the show where Brooklyn native Adam Richman heads out across the globe tasting local treats then taking on an eating challenge of some sort. Down 50 Naga Jolokia wings in 30 minutes or ingest a twelve egg omelet topped with 1 pound of bacon, 2 and pounds of cheese without throwing up. I caught an episode this week where he was visiting Chicago. In case you’ve forgotten because we post here with a frequency just short of Haley’s comet passing, I am from Chicago and it’s a favorite travel destination of EJ and Roo given we live down South. In his tour of the town, he stopped at Gino’s East to try a deep dish pizza. While some Windy City folks will tell you thin crust is truly Chicago’s best pie, the deep dish is world-renowned and as synonymous with the Second City as are Harry Caray’s glasses. If you go to Chicago, get a deep dish. It’s worth the wait. If you are waiting for one at Gino’s East and are sitting upstairs and outside on the patio, look for our graffiti.
So back to Adam. Brooklyn guy. In the episode, he is clearly blown away by the Chicago style pie but mostly avoids making any comparison to the east coast style NY slice. He clearly doesn’t want to lose rep in his hometown but it’s that he is intrigued by the Chicago version (but then if he is a culinary guru that has “held every job in the business”, do we really believe that this is the first time he has had deep-dish?) He stopped just short of crowning Chicago’s pizza king, strategically I assume. Where he stopped, I will continue. There is no comparison. There is no way you can argue that a floppy, greasy NY triangle compared to the sophisticated, succulent pie that is a deep dish pizza. It’s like comparing Al Capone to Regis Philbin. Se determined was I to remind myself how great a deep-dish pizza really is, that I decided to make my own. I researched a few recipes on-line and came up with my own version.
Delicious. It’s not the real thing but close enough to remind that it is the best. Now, if I can just find a recipe for that 12 egg omelet.
It’s been awhile since I’ve posted anything, not to say we’ve haven’t had much to say…we’ve just been so wrapped up in the gulf oil spill, LeBron James free agency and Lindsay Lohan rehab watch that we haven’t had the time to focus on anything else. But not much has changed since last time. Typical Monday today that’s for sure, after a great weekend celebrating Roo’s birthday and her cousin’s wedding, I don’t want to be at work...and I’ve only been here for an hour. Fairly standard start: report requests needed yesterday that won’t be used for a meeting tomorrow but if I could make them my first priority today “That’d be great” and another lame corporate email reminding everyone that the green-outlined parking spots are for hybrid cars and carpoolers only. Sigh. My only saving grace today is that the Bachelorette is on tonight. No, I’m not quite the fan I used to be circa Trista and Ryan. As each new season passes, I am less intrigued. With each “perfect” match that falls apart, I am less surprised. The more I think about it, the more I believe the show is better suited for the Food Network because it’s the perfect recipe for relationship disaster. Think about it, you take a handful of successful, attractive people and put them into a luxurious mansion. You wine and dine them and fly them around the country and world for a couple months until two of them fall in “love” with each other. Instead, they fall in love with a fantasy lifestyle. I liken the courting session to be about as real as the Real World on MTV. If ABC wants to spawn a truly perfect match for one lucky guy and gal, don’t send them cliff diving in Trinidad and Tobago, put them in a 2 bedroom apartment for a weekend and have one do the taxes while the other does the laundry. Have the guy ruin at least two of her shirts and have her erase last night’s season finale of Entourage off the DVR. Make them eat leftovers for dinner and drink water from the refrigerator instead of caviar and wine. Make the guy go on a date with her after a 10 hour work day instead of 10 hours of lounging by the pool. Make her do her own hair and makeup. But instead, ABC creates an infatuated lifestyle for a couple that can’t sustain once the cameras stop rolling. And yet US Weekly pumps out “shocking” tales of why the storybook couple fell apart. No, I get excited when the Bachelorette comes on because I know I get an hour or two to unwide with the Xbox. Ironically, I am playing NCAA 11, where I created myself as an All-American quarterback for a top 25 program. Speaking of fantasy…
2. Assemble needed ingredients and peel membrane from rib rack.
3. After pat-drying rack with paper towels, generously massage ribs with rub. Save a teaspoon or two or three for the sauce.
4. Prep the grill to set up an indirect heat source. We have a smoker box attached to our Charbroil grill. I use a chimney to quick start a charcoal and hickory wood chunk mix. Chimneys work great for non instant-light charcoal.
5. Once the charcoals are starting to ash but still with some flame, empty the chimney in the smoker box.
6. Heat and maintain a temperature of around 220 degrees F. Place soaked wood chips in smoking container near fire (or place on side of fire mound). Add rack to grill.
7. Set oven timer for 3 hours. Remember to make sure the temp holds around 220 degrees F through out the entire process. And I did flip them once halfway through.
8. Have patience. I probably should have mentioned that the ribs will cook for 6 hours. Naps are not recommended as you'll need to keep an eye on the grill thermometer.
9. Take this time to maybe clean the house, or more appropriately stated, make the house cleaner that it was before. This will not only make the wife happy but also bring you down from a raw meat and fire induced testosterone high. Win win.
10. You can watch the Masters while you clean, to bring the manliness level back up if cleaning brings it down too far.
13. Make sure you have enough wood chips before you start so that you don't have to go buy more mid-smoke. In all, I used 3/4th of a $7.99 bag of hickory wood chunks. You could also use apple or mesquite...but not the pine chunks used to line the bushes.
15. Set the oven timer for 2 hours. Don't touch the rack or open the grill during this time. Fire up the Xbox.
16. With about 30 minutes to go in the second phase, now is a good time to prepare a sauce. No need to reinvent the wheel. I mixed Jack Daniel's master blend and their honey smokehouse sauce. I added brown sugar and the leftover rub spice mix. Once 2 hours has passed, remove the foil wrapped rack and apply the sauce to both sides of the rack. Put back on the grill.
17. Set the oven timer for 1 hour. Feel free to flip and brush with more sauce halfway through.
19. After cutting the ribs, place your feast before you and take a moment to pat yourself on the back. 
1. Eat asparagus
2. Put the toilet seat down
3. Feel passionate about my career
4. Blog
5. Cook a meal involving more than four ingredients
6. Own more than one pair of dress shoes
7. Floss daily
8. Attend a chicken bog luncheon
9. Watch 'To Kill a Mockingbird'
10. Get oil changes every three to four thousand miles
11. Separate my whites and colors when doing laundry
12. Brush and bathe Kennedy on a regular basis
13. Attend church more than twice (Easter and Christmas) a year
14. Live on a budget
15. Demonstrate concern for my health
16. Crave sushi
17. Read books without pitcures
18. Make the bed every day
19. Dine at Vivace, Geja's, The Penguin or Miriam's Kitchen
20. No matter where we are or what we are doing, wake up with a smile knowing that I unconditionally love with all of my heart the perfect complement to all that I am, the one that makes me believe, makes everything taste just a little sweeter, makes the moon shine a little brighter and confirms to me that all in this world is exactly how it should be
I started a new job last week, well a new position at my job anyway. With this new role, comes new responsibilities, a new paycheck and new hours. I used to work from 7 to 4, avoiding most of the traffic and associated road rage. Now, that I am working 8:30 to 5:30ish and getting home and settled closer to 7pm, I’ve been neglecting my Xbox. With Roo still fighting like a girl in Greenville and Jessica out celebrating her princess month and Halloween, I went into Friday night with the home alone and full expectation of devoting several hours to Call of Duty and Madden. Instead, I made it a blockbuster night. And while there weren’t many blockbusters that jumped out at me on the new release wall, I will get caught up on some of the sci-fi titles that Riley and I have passed over on previous trips. Riley isn’t big into movies that couldn’t really happen so an alien-induced Indiana Jones flick, an alien that makes the Earth stand still for a day and some sort of alien that turns New York into a cloverfield were films I was able to enjoy instead of the Xbox and Roo was able to avoid altogether. I just need to find a personal movie clause that will allow me to avoid the next Nicholas Sparks flick.
One of many memorable scenes of the Godfather is the part where Don Corleone slaps a wimpering Johnny Fontaine and demands that the struggling singer can “act like a man.” Basically, the Godfather is telling troubled troubadour to grow up and stop crying. Riley hasn’t seen me cry in some time, probably since we saw "Marley and Me." And she has never slapped me and told me to grow up, though I suspect she has thought about it on a few occasions such as when she walked in on one of my xbox sessions in which I am arguing with a 9 year old.
Well, this week, I have taken a step forward, I’ve grown up a little. I started a new job on Friday, a new role at the same company and I honestly feel like I’ve taken a huge step forward professionally. Her dream job is to be a stay at home mom and I really think I’ve made a strong move in that direction. In other recent adult moves, I fixed two sinks, have flossed every day since my last checkup at the dentist, learned that kitchen knives are shaped differently to serve different purposes, graduated from using watermelon scented baby shampoo by switching to manly high endurance sports body wash and I’ve stuck to a workout regiment for an entire week.
So any tears you see from me are tears of joy when I say Happy 17th Month Anniversary Roo!
Friday night, we celebrated the birthdays of Jessica (sister) and Jessica (bridesmaid) at Nikko's, a sushi hotspot in Charlotte. I spent Saturday getting an oil change (sorry Dad, I know you told me I should do this myself), cutting the grass (which I thought had stopped growing for the fall, only to find it growing faster than it did in May) and fixing the sink (well, repairing two chips in the porcelain that I am responsible for creating). Riley was out at about getting her hair done, shopping and planning the week's menu for me. We also entertained cousin Morgan, who came to town to gauge interest from brother Phil about a European trip next summer. That involved a little housecleaning accompanied by laundry. After Sunday school, it was time to switch gears and prepare Roo for her next trip to Greenville. The whirlwind weekend has finally calmed and while we are both briefly relaxing in the living room, laptops in hand, we should maybe take a hint from Max on how to best spend the next few free minutes.
As you may have been tracking, Riley has been away, serving as caregiver for her mom as they fight like girls against multiple myeloma. Back home, I ruled the house. With that great power, comes great responsibility. So while I am able to spend more time with the Xbox, which temporarily resides downstairs on the big screen when Roo is away, I also am in charge of the chores, dry cleaning and weekly menu, among other things. Not to say I can’t hold my own or haven’t been on my own before, but I don’t recall it ever being this long. I think the hardest part was creating the weekly menu for Jessica and me. It isn't that beef taco night or cheeseburgers on the George Foreman, weren't delicious but our menu wasn't nearly as diverse as Riley would have made it, nor did it possess anywhere close to the daily recommended allowance of vegetable servings. I didn’t have a problem telling Jessica to do her homework and I did manage the dry cleaning. Still, I have yet to align my definition of clean with Riley’s, so while maybe the bathroom wasn’t up to Roo’s standards when she returned home Friday, it wasn’t the disaster it had been on Thursday. Maybe I procrastinate too much, or maybe I work better under pressure. But to an extent, I think I take free time for granted, in the sense that I should have a better grasp on how to make the best use of it. If I didn’t stay up until midnight playing Madden, it’d probably be easier to match my socks at 6 in the morning. If I didn’t snooze the alarm or stall for stretching before softball, maybe I’d be able to update the blog more frequently or wake the next day without sore knees. Or maybe the way I use my time in part defines exactly who I am, it is just that all the time, no matter what I am doing, Riley is in my mind. All in all, in the time she has been away, I am so proud of the strength Riley has given her mom and family through her support. And I am so very appreciative of all she does to support this house, this relationship and so very appreciative of the time she is home. And she is home now, so I am going to spend less time on the laptop, and more with her.
Happy 16 month anniversary to us! Here are some interesting facts about the number 16:
Sweet Home Chicago: For work, Riley not only had to travel to Chicago but was working in my old neighborhood for the week. I had a voucher for a roundtrip flight and both the Cubs and Bears had home games on Thursday of said week. These events converged like the perfect storm. By mid-week, Roo received some moral support to a rough work week from yours truly. Thursday, within hours of each other, we attended games at both Wrigley and Soldier Field. We panoramically viewed Windy City and seemingly saw California, gazing west from 1300 feet in the Willis (formerly Sears) Tower with only about 6 inches of glass between our feet and the Chicago River below. We ended the trip with some deep dish pizza and a surprise upgrade onto an earlier flight.
Home Sweet Home: While the Chicago trip was all fun and play for me, Roo was busy at work all week and a stressful week it was. By week’s end she was worn out and longed for the soft sheets of our bed, sweet tea and all other things Carolina. Because of this, I did not complain when she was upgraded to first class on the flight home while I flew coach. She didn’t complain when Max, out of excitement, peed on her jeans upon greeting us as we walked in the front door.
Home Improvement: Over the past two years, our garage has evolved from a shelter for at least one of the cars, to an accumulation of all unused, out of season and otherwise not-fit-to-be-placed-in-any-other-room items we own. The garage needed an overhaul and that’s what we gave it. Through thoughtful planning and design, we added some shelves and a Gladiator tool rack to establish some order in the large-scale version of a junk drawer. Let me say that this customizable “wall system” lived up to the name of the movie as far as manliness is concerned. During the renovation, I truly felt as if HGTV was filming and our final results were emmy-winning.
Yard Sale: Some of the garage clean-up meant creating a temporary pile in the center of the floor, stuff that wasn’t going to stay. We were up at 5:15 this morning, preparing to greet the waves of bargain hunters with a wide assortment of items from our past. Along with neighbors and friends Lori and Will, we had a fairly successful rummage sale. Considering I would have paid someone to get most of these things out of my garage, coming out with a little extra cash at the end of the day was rewarding. No amount of money however can present a feeling as rewarding as helping out someone in need. We “met” many strangers today and while some didn’t have they felt like spending in the form of conversation, others shared their stories while we shared a couple hundred square feet of grass. One neighbor’s friend had lost nearly everything in a house fire, another visitor has been without a job for over a year, another couple shared the joy of a new house, while another shared the joy of an older child moving out of their house into one of his own. Some things we “sold” for no price at all, and at times felt like we should “pay” for the good feeling.
Home Away from Home: One of Saturday morning’s shoppers keyed us in on the Hospice and Community Care organization. Instead of taking our unsold items to Goodwill or the Salvation Army, we donated all of the remaining clothes, toys, books, dishes, etc. to the local organization that for over 20 years has provided compassionate care to those with very special needs in our area. It felt very good to donate to a cause that hits so close to home. Next week, Riley’s mom will begin the 11+ week stem cell transplant; procedures and emotions that I couldn’t do justice trying to describe in this entry. This trying time will be filled with faith, prayers, hope and tears…and dirty dishes piled up in the sink. Riley’s mom will temporarily relocate for proximity to the hospital and to allow close monitoring by her doctor during the procedure. Riley will be at her mom’s side for as much of the next 3 months as the Hippocratic Oath allows. A very distant and secondary effect of this process means that I will be driving the war effort on the homefront alone. More prayers, hope, faith and tears. I would ask they all go to support Riley’s mom’s health and Riley’s strength in support, but if you can spare a moment and a prayer, I could certainly use it.
Home is where the heart is, and my heart may have never felt healthier than it does now. Through all the trials, tribulations, travels and treats we’ve experienced and been blessed with thus far, I’ve never felt more true to the fact that I am exactly where I am supposed to be, doing what I am supposed to be doing, living the life I am supposed to live. I’ve never felt more at home.
Riley’s dad and I have been determined to catch the next big one ever since I started attending the annual summer retreat with Roo’s family seven years ago. For the past two years, Ronnie and I have tried harder than we did in 2002. We’ve scoped out various docks, landings and creeks and chartered captains and boats. We’ve waded chest deep into the ocean while in over our heads with enthusiasm. What I like about our recent adventures only lures me back for more. But I am getting ahead of myself. On the last day of our vacation, we set out early on a chartered voyage. We put our squid and shrimp baited shortcomings of the previous trips of the week behind us and set out for some big game. We knew right away that we were on the right boat as our guide took us to shallow waters where St. Helena Sound meets Big Bay creek, where bonnethead sharks were nearly beaching themselves to get a morning snack. Into the water we tossed blue crab-baited hooks and out came a 17-pound relative to the hammerhead. Ronnie reeled it in. 
Later that night, while grilling our fresh catch along with some small Whiting fillets, Riley’s dad shared some rare quality time and conversation. It was mostly and pleasantly one-sided. Ronnie told me stories from his newlywed days, where he and Riley’s mom would take fishing trips on her grandfather’s pontoon on the Santee (River). He told other stories of Riley’s early adventures on the boat as well. For someone who doesn’t seem to talk very much, Riley’s dad is a great story teller. I look forward to telling our kids tales of these trips now. That said, Ronnie and I are going to have to really start reeling in some big fish. Or not. Like I said, with fishing, you don’t need something on the end of the line to necessarily have a good story. But Ronnie and I both agree having our own boat might help.
So for a week, I am the one that got away, away from it all: my inbox, cell phone reception, traffic; and got back to a childhood joy that I hope to grow in the coming year, connecting with my father-in-law, creating stories that we can pass down in vacations to come.
Exploring Botany Bay
Cancer can't keep the great sharks' tooth hunter away from the beach.
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