Good grief. Has anyone ever seen this man smile? I wonder if he has ever cracked a grin in his long-legged life. Now we can see him in his own reality show (hey, there’s a new idea), chasing down the bad guys in NOLA. Actually, it appears that he is doing good things with his avocation, while nursing his acting career back to health.

But sheesh, can we see some teeth once in awhile, Grumpy McFrownyman? Lawd.

And then there’s the whole Tiger Woods thing. I have mixed opinions. Sure, he doesn’t have to tell anyone what really happened the other night, when he crashed his car into a fire hydrant and then into his neighbor’s tree, and his wife reportedly smashed out the back window of his Caddy SUV with a golf club (Seriously…have you ever seen someone do that? It doesn’t work like the candy glass shatterfests that happen in the movies and on TV.), and heroically dragged her husband through the hole. Okaaaaaaaay….

I’m all for keeping one’s business to oneself, and I agree that everyone should mind their own happenings in their own driveways and stop worrying about everyone else’s. But I have to also agree with Mike Lupica of the Daily News when he said, “[Y]ou either get out in front of your own story, or it takes off without you, like an out-of-control SUV.” This puts Woods in a precarious position: own up, or let the goss fly. It’s the downside of being the most famous working athlete in the world (sorry, LeBron).

That said, it’ll all blow over eventually (several actors, pro athletes and politicians come to mind), and he’ll likely be forgiven. However, people tend to forgive honest confessions of wrongdoing (not saying there was any wrongdoing, mind) much more readily than protracted holdouts that ultimately reveal the truth anyway. The media people are too good at what they do. I think the story will come out. In fact, tongues are already wagging.

Would it bother you if I said that, although I’m not a day-counter normally (I actually abhor the practice), there are only 13 more days of school till Christmas break?

Fink, draggin’ it to the Cavs game tonight

Well I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving (sorry Suze – I hope your tuna sammich was tasty!). The holiday itself is rather silly when you think about it: getting together one day a year to be thankful, or worse, to “celebrate” what is one of the most egregious examples of skrooed up history ever, or worst, to see how much you can eat before you lapse into a diabetic coma. Still, I love that we are able to gather together and collectively acknowledge how fortunate we are for food and shelter throughout the whole year. We did that in fine style at the Finkhouse last night. It was great.

We (or I should say, Mavis) dry-brined the turkey this year. I highly recommend it. If you are weary of dry white meat on your bird, then this is the holy g-r-r-r-ail. It was a 4-day ritual, but boy did it pay off. Home run, Mave!

So anyway, still on about the food…

I was on a Slovenian-American site this morning and a link caught my eye. It’s a YouTube vid of a man going to a raw milk machine. A mlekomat. No homogenization; no hormones added. Just raw milk right from Bessie at the farm down the road — put into a milk machine. Is that cool or what?

You’ll see the guy in the video first purchase an empty bottle, then put it in the machine, and presto — raw milk. I’ll bet it’s funny to see one of these on a country road out in the middle of nowhere.

Just a little Black Friday weirdness for ya.

‘Tis a new day indeed. For the first time since December 2006, I am free of Boston University. Completely. Permanently. All that’s left is getting the final grade, receiving the diploma in the mail, and depositing the course reimbursement from my school district into the Route 66 Vacation Fund. Life is grand.

I submitted the final draft of my thesis last night. No more edits; it’s over. I went downstairs where the Thriller was working on homework (he is just beginning his 2-year grad school odyssey), and just sort of sat there, numb. He asked me how I felt, and I had trouble deciding. Relief, I guess, but even moreso I think it is a sense of disbelief. It’s been so much a part of my daily existence for three years, I’m not sure what to replace it with.

But I’m sure I’ll find something.

Ross reminded me last week about an upcoming Beatles show on the History Channel. It premiered last night (I missed it; after finishing the thesis, I turned on the Cavs game and promptly fell asleep watching it), and fortunately, I recorded it. So, on this quiet Thanksgiving morning when the house is asleep, and before the craziness of the day begins, I am going to make some delicious coffee, curl up on the sofa, and watch me some Fabs.

A happy Thanksgiving to all my fiends this day — have a great time with your families! I know I will.

*Gobble*

FO

I love giving dinner parties. We do it a lot at our house. I must say, though, I’ve never given a formal dinner party, complete with dresses and suits and appropriate decor and every fork in place. Must do that sometime.

Well this week is going to involve a huge dinner party, and the shopping needs to be done tonight after school. Meeting BFF Kay for coffee, then to the market. (Have I corrected my thesis yet? No. But 1 December is a lonnnnng way off, yes?)

When Mavis comes over to bake pies with Johanna and me tomorrow, I will play my two favorite Christmas albums (JT and Sinatra) and we will all be in the holiday spirit.

Speaking of JT…his 1992 New Moon Shine album is one of  two (besides the Fabs) that I listen to on a regular basis, without fail. It is always in my truck, on my iPod, and on my hard drive. I recommend it highly. Not a single bow-wow on the whole project. Amazing. The other, of course, is Stephen Bishop’s Careless. As close to perfection as I’ve ever heard. Ah, wistful memories…

Have yourself a good Tuesday. Think about how great your life is; be thankful.

RF, waxing wise