Thursday, August 1, 2013

The Loot

This year's birthday haul was pretty sweet, with off-list gifts (*) kept to a minimum & yet each a wild success.

Books
Norman Stone, The Atlantic and Its Enemies: A History of the Cold War
Mark Mazzetti, The Way of the Knife: The C.I.A., a Secret Army, and a War at the Ends of the Earth
Christian Caryl, Strange Rebels: 1979 and the Birth of the 21st Century

Commentary: The only requested book I did not receive was the book I most wish to read, Vanished Kingdoms: The Rise and Fall of States and Nations by Norman Davies.

Motion Pictures/Feature Films
Skyfall
Goldfinger


Motion Pictures/Television Series
The Aquabats! Super Show!—Season One!
Burn Notice—Season Six
Castle—The Complete Fourth Season

Commentary: The only requested television series I did not receive was the D.V.D. boxset I least desired, the new American remake of House of Cards. I want to see it, having seen the first episode via streaming Netflix at Xanadu, but it is a lower priority than Castle & Burn Notice, both established parts of my motion picture library, & the televisual genius of The Aquabats!

Wardrobe
a blue Knights of Columbus baseball cap
a blue polo shirt, with two breast pockets*

Commentary: My new baseball cap bears the cross/dove/globe emblem of the 4th degree, not the more familial emblem of the Order.

Junk Drawer
a set of three Field Notes pocket notebooks*
a General Grievous Pez dispenser*

Commentary: The Field Notes are much thinner than the Moleskine notebook I've taken the carrying over the last several years, but this might be to my advantage as the Moleskines get beaten to a pulp residing in my right front pocket. The spines of both my first & current Moleskine are held together by electrical tape, used in lieu of others tapes becauses its black color blends in better with the Moleskine. The thinner Field Notes, though flimsier, might well better survive due to a shorter service life. Additionally, I would not mind a lower profile notebook, one creating less of a bulge. Field testing will begin soon, even thought the current Moleskine still has many blank pages.

Kith & Kin
Where's Teddy? was allowed to help "Grammy" (my mother) in the preparation of my birthday cake. That's all fine & good, I'm glad to see him old enough for that kind of faux job. The problem is that he was allowed to exercise his own, four-year-old creative vision. When my cake was brought to the table—thirty-four burning candles putting out quite a lot of heat—my toy of a Tumbler Batmobile (desert camouflaged, from Batman Begins) was sitting atop the cake, which was covered in small, hard candies called buds. The Batmobile was unfortunate, but ultimately of no consequence as it was cleaned off (emphatically not by me, since I hadn't sullied it) with minimal fuss. The buds were another matter. Where's Teddy? quite likes buds, & I do not object to them on their own, but they were wildly out of place on the cake. The objection is not one of form but of function. The hard buds fundamentally change the experience of eating a sort, almost gooey chocolate birthday cake. Your fork slide through the airy devil's food like a hot knife through butter, yet when the piece of cake is put into your moth the buds offer unwelcome resistance. They changed the consistency of the cake, even as they sat on the exterior, mired in the frosting. It is the thought the counts & I know Where's Teddy? thought he was doing something nice for his favorite uncle, but he's four years-old. He doesn't know the first thing about baking or food preparation. All he thought about the the individual goodness of buds, without sparing a thought for how the hard buds would interact with the soft cake. That's one of the reasons why he requires adult supervision. I am not surprised that Grammy failed to intervene while she was supervising, & the cake was still good, it just wasn't as great as a chocolate birthday cake with chocolate frosting should be, & I was ever so slightly disappointed.

Still, my heart is warmed by the memory of a two-year-old Where's Teddy? saying, without realizing what he was saying, "Happy birthday cake, Uncle Mike."

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