Right now I am sitting in my suite at the Camelback Marriott in Scottsdale, Arizona, just a little more than a day away from getting to see my Patriots in Super Bowl XLII. The story of how I got here is incredible on many levels, and even attempting to do it justice in a blog post is ridiculous. What I can tell you is this: I owe it all to a man I will never see again. In the six or nine months that I knew him, he somehow managed to become one of my ultimate best “best friends”. I have never known anyone like him, and I find it impossible to believe there will ever be anyone else like him in my life. He was an amazing force of nature, a man that I consider myself truly blessed to have gotten to know.
Bill Gross died on Sunday, October 21^st, 2007, as I was packing the rental car in Hawaii getting ready to return from my honeymoon. He was my business partner, my boss, my mentor, my walk-to-Starbucks companion, my confidant, my guardian angel, my benefactor, my hero, and my best friend. I am still in shock and I am still in pain and I miss him and I cannot fathom how I can be going to this game without him. I know that he is rooting for the Giants just to piss me off, just as much as I know that inside he is pulling for the Patriots because he knows they are my favorite. I would trade anything to get to hear him make fun of me again.

Heartland USA (Magazine of the American Outdoor Lifestyle), has an article about the Coast Guard in its “Lifestyles” section. The tagline is, “In the state with the smallest stretch of coastline, the U.S. Coast Guard’s motto — Semper Paratus, “Always Ready” — routinely gets tested in big ways.”

That’s my little brother cruising the (very tiny) coast of New Hampshire! Go Mike!

I’m proud to announce that my sister-in-law is the Seminole County teacher of the week.

Awesome. When I woke up today I thought to myself, “I really hope that there is someone pounding on the other side of the wall behind my head with a hammer all day.” It looks like my wish has been granted!

On November 4th I entered my local Starbucks and laughed when I saw the entire store was decorated for Christmas. There happened to be a manager and a “barista” working the counter, so I mentioned that it was a bit early for Christmas decorations.

The manager replied, as if I was daft, “No it’s not. Thanksgiving is next week!”

I told him that Thanksgiving wasn’t for three more weeks and he seemed surprised. He said, “Really? I don’t know why I thought it was next week …”

MAYBE BECAUSE OF ALL THE CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS?!?!?

Whoa. I felt that one. A nice 4.5 right under my buddy’s house. At first I thought that one of the cats knocked over a lamp or something. Scary. I can never remember what I’m supposed to do. Hide under a table? Stand in a doorframe? Jump in the bathtub? Stop, drop, and roll?

Last night Tricia and I went to see Tamar at the Hotel Cafe in Hollywood. She played a great set and we had a good time. We didn’t get home until after 11, and I couldn’t get to sleep.

I was up until 1:30am reading Dark Tide: The Great Boston Molasses Flood of 1919. What a crazy story! Can you imagine seeing a 50′ tall wave of molasses barreling towards you at 35mph? And the ten-year legal battle that followed was one of the country’s first major class-action lawsuits. Truly a fascinating tale.

Tonight is our big engagement party at the Viper Room. We’ve got the club reserved for the night, which is pretty flipping cool. (Give me a ring if you want to get on the guest list.) Our good friends Von Cotton play at 9pm and our other good friends becky start their set at 11pm. It should be a pretty wild time.

Chewbacca Assaults Marilyn At Kodak Theater

How the hell did that happen? I could have sworn like two or three weeks ago I was just turning 30 and it was only a year or two before that I turned 21. If it wasn’t for the fact that I am happier now than I ever have been before — and I have felt that way pretty much every day since I turned 9 or so — this whole 6/26 thing would really bother me.

Tomorrow I will be 34 years old. This amazes me.

PS: It’s not too late to get me something nice.

Are you wondering what media I consumed this weekend? I knew you were. And so I shall tell you.

• Heat ****
• Sopranos *****
• Oh the Glory of It All, by Sean Wilsey ****½
• Oceans 13 ***½
• John from Cincinnati ***½
• A Prairie Home Companion, featuring Martin Sheen, Randy Newman, and Paula Poundstone (live at The Greek) ******
• Saturday Night Live (rerun) ***½
• SNL Tribute: Chris Farley ****

My mom just sent me the following text message:

Attempts to contact my mom via her cell phone have failed. Unfortunately even if I could get her on the phone, the only advice I could give her — after over a decade of working in the computer industry — is to maybe try to shake the liquid out and blow-dry it.

When the revolution comes and the computers try to squash humanity out of existence, hopefully some of us will remember their Achilles’ heel: ill-placed cups of coffee.

For some reason you cannot find one on their website, but you can still get one of these from Banana Republic. I’ve seen them for sale in both the Santa Monica and the Studio City stores, and I’ve seen dozens of people carrying them over the last two decades. But yours just will not be as cool as mine. My mom bought me this bag from one of the original mail-order catalogs when I was in 8^th grade, in 1986. (That was back when BR was a small “travel & safari clothing” company and not a part of The Gap.) The ones they sell now are Made in China™ and seem to be pretty low-quality. Mine was actually Made in Israel and — since it’s been with me from one end of the United States to the other, to the Sandwich Islands, and all through England, Paris, and most of Italy — I can attest that it is just as awesome as the original description that I read and which completely enraptured me 21 years ago:

Authentic Israeli Paratrooper Briefcase
When called away suddenly on business (to Entebbe, for example), the Israeli paratrooper takes along a durable briefcase — one with D-rings, a padded adjustable shoulder strap, three big inside compartments appropriate for legal pads, and an exterior snap-flap pocket sized to suit a ponderous paperback. Also: two rows of sturdy loops for implements mightier than swords.

On Sunday night we had dinner at The Lodge Steakhouse on La Cienega in Beverly Hills. The place was almost empty and for the better part of the night we had the entire large dining room to ourselves. For some strange reason this dark, rustic, wood-grained, hunting-outpost-themed restaurant was blasting hair-band hits of the late 70s and early 80s from a speaker inconveniently situated directly above our table. Aside from that oddity, though, the meal was delicious and the service was good. I’ll assume that there were so few other diners because of the holiday, because the steaks were perfect, it wasn’t that expensive, and it’s in a great location. Give it a shot if you’re looking for a nice New York strip.

Note: Just before chocolate desserts arrived in the nearly-deserted room, the hostess sat a party at the table right next to us. It was — coincidentally — the former neighbors of my fiancée’s parents: Hilary and Haylie Duff, along with Kevin Connolly (”E” from Entourage).

According to bonkworld’s Amazing Days Calculator, “This is day number 12,386 for people born on June 26, 1973.” I’m mildly irritated that I didn’t do something special for my 10,000^th day on November 10, 2000. Must make a mental note to celebrate my 15,000^th on July 20, 2014. Hopefully by then I’ll be able to zip over to Maui with my jetpack.