May 10: Chair Massage, Energy, Loose

I got a chair massage at the Wellness Fair at work today.  I wasn't going to get anything done.  The person giving the foot massages was a former student of mine.  There wasn't any acupuncture, which I'd already talked myself into trying.  And then, just as I was making my way to the stairs to head back to the office, I heard a familiar voice behind me.

"Marty, how are you doing?"

I turned around.  The person giving the chair massages was my friend Louisa.  She's the wife of my friend Matt from the English Department.  (He teaches non-fiction writing and poetry and is sickeningly talented.)  Lou is from South Africa and has a great Afrikaans accent.  She is the loveliest person alive.

So I joined the line for a massage.  I knew that Lou was a massage therapist, but, oh my God, she's a freakin' massage miracle worker.  She went to work on my back for about ten minutes.  She pushed and pressured and rubbed.  The whole time, we were gabbing about English Department politics and her husband and classes.  When I got out of her chair, I felt absolutely loose and energized.  Still do.

My shoulders are relaxed.  My head has this nice buzz, like I'm thinking more clearly.  If I had a glass of wine right now, I'd pass out.  I just e-mailed Matt and told him his wife could put her hands on my body any time she wants.

Saint Marty is feeling fantastic.

Get in line!

December 16: No Gin Tonight, Son!

No gin tonight, son!


Looks like everybody's having a little gin to me

 Peter Bailey, played by actor Samuel S. Hinds, says this to his younger son, Harry, as he's headed out the door to go to his graduation party.  At this point in the movie, the time period is around 1926 or 1927, a couple years before the Great Depression hits.  The Jazz Age is in full swing, and gin is pretty easy to get a hold of.  It's always struck me as a little funny that Mr. Bailey adds that word "tonight" in his admonition.  Obviously, it's alright for Harry to go out and get blasted on other occasion, but not when he's wearing and tuxedo and has just graduated from high school.

My wife and I are having some friends over tonight for dinner.  We're making some of our favorite dishes and appetizers.  I baked a pecan pie last night.  We hardly ever entertain or have dinner guests.  Most of the time, we eat dinner in the living room, watching TV or reading.  We are actually clearing off the dining room table and breaking out the good china.  When I spoke to my friend, he asked if he could bring anything.  I told him to bring a bottle of wine.  He was cool with that.  I also plan on picking up a bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream (no relation to George) to mix in some hot chocolate, as well.

I'm excited to have our friends over.  They're a great couple, around our ages.  Matt was just hired this fall at the university to teach creative non-fiction.  Louisa, his wife, is just plain wonderful.  They had us to their house for dinner around Halloween, so it's our turn now.  Of course, Matt is a food person.  He worked in the restaurant industry for quite a few years.  That's makes me a little nervous.  However, I keep telling myself that they are not coming to our house for the food.  They're coming to spend time with us.  The food's incidental.

There will be quite a bit of "gin" consumed this evening.  We killed a couple bottles of wine when we were at their house in October.  So, Mr. Bailey's warning is not going to work too well at our house tonight.  Then again, none of us are 18-year-olds fresh out of high school.

Peter Bailey has a stroke a few hours after giving his sage advice to his son, Peter.  He dies broken and tired, with great dreams and lots of unfulfilled desires, I would imagine.

Saint Marty intends to have some gin tonight.  Maybe some zinfandel or pinot noir, as well.