Happy holidays, all y'all!

Now rub my belly!

Tuna foot

Looks like tuna
tastes like feet

We just returned from a trip to the lovely island of St. John. It was our annual trip with my parents, and we all had a great time.

Even though my dad still doesn't understand a few key concepts that help make travel a lot more fun for everyone involved:

• Tipping
• Not walking out into moving traffic
• Tipping

When Barb told him he can't walk out into moving traffic, his immediate response was, "You can't!"

Meaning, neither could she. Technically, he was correct. But Barb wasn't the one stepping in front of moving vehicles. He was.

Doesn't matter.

To begin day two, our first full day on-island, we headed to one of my favorite beaches on the planet: Cinnamon Bay. Usually, it's a tranquil beach that's a great place to swim, snorkel, or just hang out in the water.

But on this particular day, there were some nice waves breaking over the reef on the west side of the beach. I could see some three-footers, so I informed my family that anyone looking for me would know where to find me for the next few hours.

Me being me, I was all jazzed up about the waves, so I was in a hurry. I don't wear anything on my feet when I don't have to, and on this fateful day, I finally paid the price. In my haste, I stubbed the bottom of my foot on a tree branch hidden in the sand.

The force of my gait meeting the branch ripped a gigantic slab of skin off the bottom of my foot.

As I raised my injured left foot a few inches from the sand to the planks of the beach shack where I would be renting a body board, I was surprised to find out that I was actually injured. As I sat and inspected said injury, watching blood ooze and coagulate with the help of a bunch of dirt and sand, I decided that my foot was officially "f*cked up."

Luckily, the dude who worked at the rental beach hut, Christian, was an EMT. He did a little impromptu surgery right then and there, slicing a giant chunk of skin off my foot with a razor blade.

"You're good to go. Let the ocean do its thing, brau," he told me as I headed off into the waves.

I was kinda pissed at the whole deal, but my guess is that nine out of 10 people who saw that injury would have recommended stitches. And that would have meant no swimming for the whole week.

Not an option.

So, it could have been worse. Much worse. I could have had stitches.

Or, you know, ordered the tuna foot sandwich.

Woo hoo! Back in the saddle, baby!

I want to ride my bicycle, bicycle, bicycle

Wow. That was a long three months.

But it's over. And I promise to be more careful. I swear. A lot. Maybe too f***ing much, but that's not the point.

So, while out on my first ride since wiping out so bad I needed surgery, I decided to take my second or third selfie ever. I was so excited, I sent the picture to my two favorite biking buddies – even though I haven't seen one of them in 20 years.

Not that he needs to get his *ss down here right now or anything like that. (Cough, cough. Turn. Cough. Cough.)

The other recipient of my wonderful selfie was my bike sensei, Jason. His response was awesome.

"Keep the rubber side down, my man," he said.

How true. Because the last time I was out on my bike – three f***ing months ago – the rubber side was above my head. Then below it. Then above it. And then below it again.

Then 10 feet away in a bush.

As I said, it was a wipeout. But that's all in the past, baby. Onward and upward! Because all that matter is that today, I was able to get back on my bike.

Therefore, I leave you with a what may become my tagline: Where your helmet.

This weather is for the birds!

At the end of our lunchtime walk, 

Cricket, Lula, and I  met up with some friends

I couldn't help it. I had to check what the temperature was in Chicago today. It was 21-degrees.

It was a little warmer here in Fairyville – 70 to be exact.

"This is mail man weather," my mail man told me.

He should know. 

So I guess it's mail man – or mail carrier, to be more inclusive - weather down here in the AVL. It's definitely not for the birds. I was being humorous.

During the holidays, I think it's best to come right out and state when you're being humorous. Even when people do get the joke. It just makes your life a lot easier on the back end.

Trust me on that one.

Inspiration: A backstory

Reach for the stars... 





Sometimes, when I catch a glimpse of true genius, it makes me feel inadequate as an artist. But, as always, I regroup and carry on. It takes a while, but I always get back on my bike and begin pedaling again. Like the resurrection of my improv "career," a decade in the making.

So I was both happy and sad to see my favorite aspect of Cleveland's Rock and Roll Hall of Fame was right where it was the last time I visited the place a few years ago.

Happy, because it's an amazing glimpse into the impetus of one of the greatest works in the history of rock and roll. Sad, because it reminds me that I may never reach that level. Put another way on one of my down days, it reminds me that I suck.

 



 Intimate stadiums?

Back in the Hall of Fame once again, I headed up the elevators to take another look at the exhibit for Pink Floyd's The Wall.

Turns out, Roger Waters was pissed off at himself. But he's so brilliant, he used his childhood education as a metaphor.

 

 Uh oh, it's magic

 

Leave them kids alone, indeed

 

It's kind of shocking to learn the backstory: He was talking to himself as well as a system that beat him down. Not only was he angry at an educational institution that walled him off, he had internalized that and later built his own wall between himself and his fans.

 

It's hard to blame him. Unless you're one of those egotistical showbiz freaks - I'm looking at you, Bill Cosby - I'm sure it's a very, very strange thing to find yourself adored by millions of people.  

 

People who don't know you, despite the fact that your work makes them feel like they do.

 

 The burden of insight

 

A long, long time ago, a guy named Mike Starcevich told me that the true greatness of improvisation was in "turning your fuckups into triumphs."

 

I think that's the lesson I learned here. The only problem is that I've learned this lesson about 20 or 30 times. So apparently, I'm not a genus jeanius genius. I guess I may never make it into the Writer Hall of Fame, strategically located in Woodfield Mall, Schaumburg, Ill.

 

But this time, instead of getting angry and spitting at myself - like usual - I'm writing this blog post to drive the point home. Let's see if I make the right choice this time.

 

How about you?





There's a peanut on your roof

Peanut Wallenda

I love yard work. I hang outside in the sunshine, work weird muscles that only come into play when shoveling mulch around 33-degree corners, and try not to step in dog poo.

You know, living the dream. The only thing I miss is improvising with funny people. The last part of that sentence is the tricky one. I'll figure it out, but I'd better do so soon before I lose all my marbles. (I only have a few left. One is glittery pink, which I can't stand.)

Anyway, there's been a lot going down in the backyard at 54 Madeline lately, but before I catch you up on everything, I had to stop my diligent work to show you what happened as I was shoveling mulch yesterday.

Just like Batman, kind of

Every now and again, as if it was a ghost floating in the wind, I heard Peanut's meow. I looked around, but he was nowhere to be found. As soon as I would pick my shovel back up, I would hear it again.

"Meow."

Then I looked up. There he was, that idiot.

"How did you get up there?" I asked. "More importantly, how the f*ck are you going to get down?"

So cuddly, so dangerous, so destructive

We figured out how to get him down, but a minute later, he was right back up there.

"Suit yourself, idiot," someone might have said.

Awesome yard art

I... am... Iron... Man!

It's been a while since I've posted pictures of the wonderful yard art around Asheville. That ends right here, right now.

Here's a unicycler located a few hills away from our house. 

Is he alive or his he dead? You tell me.