Paris: Two-Thirds Of The Devil...

That's what Mrs. TBF calls our favorite room at the Lancaster - room 66.

We determined that this was our sixth stay at the Lancaster (Wait a second...sixth stay?...room 66?...666?...oh dear!), and the staff have been very, VERY kind to us. Sure, there are many other very nice, luxurious hotels around Paris - Ritz, George V (Dear American Tourists: FYI...it's George "sank", not George "vee"!), Hotel de Crillon, etc., but we feel that we've found a good thing at the Lancaster and we've stuck with them. As a matter of fact, we've never stayed anywhere else in Paris. So, we can't really give you a comparison. However, we love the friendliness of the staff, the non-pompous elegance, the location just off of the Champs Élysées, and the fact that they pretty much always upgrade us. I guess our loyalty has paid off.

Anyway, we first stayed in room 66 about a year ago. If you'll remember, it was about a year ago that all the car-fires were taking place outside of Paris, and A LOT of tourists felt the need to cancel their reservations. We didn't, and we were "rewarded" with a nice upgrade to a one-bedroom, two-bathroom, suite (room 66). Yes, a nice upgrade indeed since the room normally goes for 790 Euros/night.

Now, we were once upgraded to the biggest suite at the hotel. And, while it was pretty impressive, we actually liked room 66 better. It's cozier, we like the layout, and we like the decor (pictures HERE). Unfortunately, we forgot to write down the room number when we stayed there a year ago, and, for the life of us, we couldn't remember it. So, when the hostess showed us to our room, we knew immediately as we came off the elevator that it was THE room we had stayed in the previous year. TBF and Mrs. TBF: HAPPY!!!

We unpacked and put away our stuff, and then jumped into what I think is possibly the most comfortable bed I have ever had the pleasure of sleeping in...in my ENTIRE LIFE!!! I don't know what it is. The mattress? The sheets? I'm telling you, my head hitting the pillow is followed by hibernation from which I don't emerge until I hear Mrs. TBF's mobile phone alarm go off...for the second or third time. God...I LOVE THAT BED...oh oh..gettin' frisky.

Where's that 'Do Not Disturb' sign?

Paris: Bastille & Le Marais

We left for the airport at the ungodly hour of 5:00 a.m., and walked into the Hotel Lancaster lobby at something like 8:45 a.m. The concierge told us that we had been upgraded to a one-bedroom suite (YES!), but it wasn't ready yet. We told him that it was absolutely not a problem, we dropped off our bags, had a cup of coffee in the "living room", walked out the front door, and walked on over toward the Métro for a quick ride to the Bastille stop.

When we emerged from underground, we were greeted by clear blue skies and set about exploring the Bastille area on foot using our City Walks: Paris index cards. We walked down a few streets, checked out a few shops, explored the covered market and outdoor morning market at place d'Aligre, and then moved on to Le Marais.

Le Marais is, according to the index card, "...rich with history and specialty boutiques...full of attractions." And, I'd say that this was an accurate description. I mean, I guess a store selling Absinthe and Absinthe supplies would qualify as a "specialty boutique.

After wandering under the arcades at place des Vosges (galleries, cafés, and more shops), we rested a bit on one of the park benches and soaked up the sun for about half an hour. Heck, we had been up for about eight hours already, and we needed a bit of a rest. Plus, we were getting pretty hungry. So, it was time to head off to lunch.

One of our Paris guidebooks recommended a brasserie called Bofinger, and I was able to conveniently make a reservation online. Also, it just so happened to be described on one of our cards as "...one of the most sublime French brasseries, with a stained-glass dome, high ceilings, and a vibrant ambience." [Note: Mrs. TBF hates this picture. However, I like it, and I'm doing the bloggin here. So...tough!] I ordered my steak saignant (bloody), which caused the "American ex-pat" seated next to me to feel the need to butt in with an "Excuse me, but do you realize that you ordered your steak rare?" "Why, yes," I told him. "I want it bloody...but thank you for pointing it out to me." Obviously insulted by the fact that his "Frenchness" had not come to my rescue, he and his wife said not one more word to us, and left a few minutes later. They ended up being replaced by a German couple who were so interested in what we were eating that Mrs. TBF ended up telling the Frau in a rather interesting combination of German and French that "...das ist rognons de veau." That, of course, opened up the German flood gates, and we ended up carrying on a "Germlish" conversation with them for the rest of the meal. Normally, unless the mood is right, I abhor intrusions from people at neighboring tables while dining with Mrs. TBF (I want her all to myself), but the Germans ended up being pretty nice and I enjoyed speaking with them (even though they did feel the need to correct every single mistake...there were many...I made while speaking German).

Our tummies were now full of onion soup, meat, potatoes, and wine. Full bellies and an early wakeup where taking their toll, and we were feeling the need for a little afternoon nap. It was time to head back to the hotel.

Nous Sommes Retournés...

...from a weekend trip to Paris.

Oui, mes amis (how's that for only a year of French lessons?), the alarm went off at 3:45 a.m. (OUCH!) on Friday morning, and we caught the 6:40 a.m., easyJet flight to Paris where we spent the weekend:

walking...

eating...

walking some more...

eating a lot more...

enjoying our favorite room in our favorite hotel of all time...

shopping a surprisingly small amount...

walking some more...

and, oh yeah...eating even more...

As is usually the case on a Monday morning aprés le bon weekend (Sacre bleu, I'm practically French!), I've spent the morning cleaning King's mess (I thought I told you 'no parties while we're gone!'), doing laundry, and listening to my stomach growl as it wonders what it's done to deserve going from a diet of 5,000 calories per day back to its weekly, minimalist Weight Watchers fare.

I'll post a lot of pictures a little later. But first, I have to go to the gym to begin working off my weekend poignées de l'amour!

Wine A Little...You'll Feel Better!

While TBF was away...Mrs. TBF did play.

Last year, I went to the Basel Wine Expo alone while Mrs. TBF slaved away on a business trip. This year, Mrs. TBF returned the favor by going to the Basler Weinmesse without yours truly while I was in Chicago taking a much needed, as my friend Dave would say, "...vacation from doing nothing!"

I returned to Basel last Wednesday, followed by Mrs. TBF on Thursday. On Thursday evening (jet lag be damned!!!) we went to a "geniesser abend" at our local wine merchant's shop for a wine tasting. While we were slurping away, I casually asked Mrs. TBF how much wine she had bought at the expo. "Oh...some," she replied. I figured it wasn't too much, and we ended up buying more wine at the wine tasting.

The next day, I found the "obviously purchased without adding up the total price" list of wines that Mrs. TBF bought at the Weinmesse. I began adding up the number of bottles along the left margin. When the number went over thirty bottles, I decided it was time to break out the trusty calculator and add up the total coast. And...? I'm happy to report that Mrs. TBF spent four times as much money at the Weinmesse this year than I did last year.

This morning, a partial order was delivered which I promptly put away in the "drink now" wine rack. I'm happy to say that France and Italy are well represented.

Hmmmmm...what kind of wine do you serve with...ketchup soup?!?!?

The Things We Do For Love...

"Hey, Hon...don't forget that I ordered some cookbooks and had them sent to your sister's house," Mrs. TBF said to me shortly before I left for Chicago. "No problem," I told her, since I knew I was bringing way more luggage to Chicago than I needed.

When I arrived at my sister's house, I saw that Mrs. TBF had ordered a couple of rather large cookbooks. No problem, I thought - I had plenty of room. I spent the first night at my sister's house, and then I moved on to the mom-in-law's house the next night.

Upon arriving at Jo's house, I went to "my" room and noticed a stack of Gourmet magazines. At that moment, I recalled that Mrs. TBF had mentioned that she had subscribed to Gourmet and had them sent to Jo's house. Once again - no problem. I just threw the magazines on top of the cookbooks that were sitting in the suitcase in the corner of "my" bedroom.

Later during week, I exchanged a book that my parents had brought Mrs. TBF (that she had, unfortunately, already read) for another...you guessed it...cookbook. I brought it back to Jo's house and threw it into the suitcase. No problem!

The day finally came when it was time to go back home, and...PROBLEM!!! When I went to throw the suitcase on the bed, I discovered that what was basically an empty suitcase when I flew to Chicago had now suddenly turned into a "bag of bricks"! Fortunately, I had two bags, and I did some creative packing in order to redistribute the weight. Both bags ended up being pretty heavy, but they both (barely) made it under the weight limit.

I lugged these "bags of cement" to the car and drove to the car rental office to turn in my car. My sister met me at the rental car office, and I grunted as I transferred the bags from my rental car to my sister's minivan. Then, I grunted as I carried the bags from my sister's minivan into her house, and again (later) from inside her house out to the limo. "Señor...what do you have een deez bags," the driver asked as he struggled to load the bags into the trunk of the car. "My wife's cookbooks and cooking magazines...," I said as I collapsed into the back of the limo.

At the airport, I watched as the driver struggled to put the bags onto the cart. I was going to help him, but I figured that I needed to conserve my strength in order to be able to lift them onto the conveyor belt at check-in - which I did while "holding in my hernia." HA! Now they were the baggage handlers' problem!

...Zip ahead about fifteen hours....


The bags, by means of a Herculean effort on my part, were now in our apartment. After unpacking everything, I decided to see how much Mrs. TBF's books/magazines weighed. And, as you can see, they came in at a whopping 9.9 kilos/22 lbs. Well...I guess they were kind of heavy, but...they weren't really that heavy. Plus, look at how much she's enjoying her new cookbooks (King lay there like a slug...it was his only defense).

I guess it was worth the effort.

Friday Flashback: Aloha, Oy Vey!!!!

As a little added incentive to lose the weight I gained in Chicago last week, I'm posting a picture from November, 1997 when Mrs. TBF and I celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary with a two-week Hawai'ian vacation.

TBF's weight at the start of the vacation: 250 lbs./113.6 kilos.

TBF's weight at the end of the two-week vacation: 270 lbs./122.7 kilos.

DAMN those buffet breakfasts, Thanksgiving buffets, and luaus!!! Sure, it all tasted great (except for the Bud Light which was the only beer available and is, in my opinion, the worst beer of all time!...but I drank it anyway!), but it wasn't worth the IBS, indigestion, profuse sweating, sore feet, and sore knees. Would you just look at those chubby cheeks, and the amount of food on my plate???

I eventually topped out at 275 lbs./125 kilos before I dropped back to 250 lbs. - where I remained for many years. Now, I generally keep my weight under 215 lbs. (except for little lapses here and there when we travel).

It's hard for me to look at these old pictures, because I just can't believe that I let myself go like this. Sad!

Ate - 8 - 8!

Here are a few reasons why I gained just over 8 POUNDS (4 kilos) IN 8 DAYS during last week's visit to Chicago. I'm not really too concerned because I anticipated the gorgefest by leaving for Chicago five pounds under my goal weight.

Yeah, I guess eight pounds sounds like a lot of weight to gain in a short amount of time. However, it still doesn't come anywhere near my personal weight gain record of 20 POUNDS IN 2 WEEKS in November, 1997 when Mrs. TBF and I celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary in Hawai'i. Damn those breakfast buffets!

Now that I'm thinking about it, I guess I did consume quite a few high calorie goodies during my trip, including: ribs, bacon-cheddar hamburgers, combo sandwich, french fries, deep-fried mushrooms, fried calamari, liver and onions, Chicago hot dog (no ketchup, of course!), chips, Doritos, Fritos, polish sausage with grilled onions, trick or treat candy, ribeye steak smothered in gorgonzola cheese, Dunkin' Donuts buttermilk donut, chile rellenos, corned beef hash, beef brisket sandwich, sushi, pot roast, pizza...I'm sure I'm forgetting some things...but, you get the picture.

I'm thinking that the cold weather in Chicago triggered some kind of instinct to add an insulating layer of blubber, because...I'M A MAMMAL DAMMIT!!! Hmmmm...I also decided to begin growing a winter beard on my last day there...I guess there's more to this mammalian instinct than I thought.

Anyway, we fortunately have this modern invention at our apartment here in Basel known as radiant heat. Therefore, I'm thinking that the blubber layer is unnecessary, and (hoping) that I'll be back down to fighting weight in the next couple of weeks or so. Although, it's going to be a bit of a challenge seeing that we're going to friends' houses for dinner tonight, tommorow night, and...we're going to Paris for a couple of nights next weekend.

Yes, the blubber's going to come off, but the beard is going to stay. The razor is getting a break for a few months, but I'm needing to make "happy time" with the elliptical trainer this coming week!

Colon Blow And Borat: Separated At Birth?

I just read about Sal's dad bearing an uncanny resemblance to Borat at Sal's VTB. Sure, there's some resemblance there. But, what about a twenty-something Colon Blow and Borat? Huh...HUH? Whaddya think?

Oh...and Colon Blow...how about updating the blog one of these months?

Meet The Bloggers World Tour 2006: Michael

Here's the latest chapter in my never-ending effort to meet my fellow bloggers. I can now add Michael to the list of ten (not including Mrs. TBF) bloggers that I have met face to face. Ok...OK...I knew some of these bloggers before we were all bloggers, but I'm stickin' with ten...

Michael and I met at a Mexican restaurant called Cesar's which is located at Clark and Belmont in the heart of the city. I enjoyed a small Margarita which was huge by Swiss standards, some chile rellenos, and we made two hours of "happy time". I say "happy time" because the Borat movie opened in Chicago the night before, and that's what Borat would say. We even did a Borat-pose for our picture.

My visit with Michael was short but sweet. I'm sure we'll get together at some point in the not-too-distant future. Mrs. TBF is really jealous that I met Michael before she did, and now she wants to meet Michael too.

Amateur Mistake...

I think I've made close to 15 trips back to Chicago since we moved to Basel in 2000, and you'd think I'd be an expert by now. But, NO! I made the ultimate "rookie" mistake this evening - I fell asleep on the sofa at about 8:00 p.m., and woke up (with the TV remote control in my hand...hey, I'm a guy!) at 11:00 p.m. Now...I'm sitting here in the wee hours watching a replay of the 2006 MTV Europe Music Awards not feeling the least bit tired.

My Chicago/London/Basel trip went well in that the flights were on time, the lines for security weren't too bad, etc. Despite the fact that I didn't get my business class upgrade, AND ended up sitting next to a complete "nut ball", I managed to squeeze in a good three hours of shut eye on the overseas flight.

"Nutball" was a talker. I knew it the moment I laid my eyes on him. Remember, I was in sales for fifteen years, so I think I'm pretty good at getting an instant read on people. My iPod was on, and my earbuds were in when I took my seat. I greeted him, and then I proceeded to ignore him despite his best efforts to make me his "BFF". He'd say something to me, and I'd pretty much pretend that I couldn't hear him even though I really could. I know, I'm an ass, but I don't care. I didn't feel like speaking to anybody, and that was my right.

At one point, I had to take my earbuds out in order to speak with the flight attendant during beverage service. As I ordered my TWO gin and tonics ($10 in economy???), "Nutball" did his best to engage me in conversation. He's 60ish, an attorney, this was his eleventh trip to London, he's from Kansas City, etc., etc. He had a BOOMING voice, kind of a hillbilly accent, and...worst of all...he was a "close-talker". I was cranky from not getting my upgrade and my lingering cold, and this guy just couldn't take the hint that I didn't feel like talking, so...I just put my earbuds back in and just ignored him while he was in mid-sentence. I figured that he'd think I was an A-hole and just leave me alone, But...NO!

Fifteen minutes later, when the gin was beginning to work it's magic, I was just sitting back with my eyes closed listening to my music, when I suddenly had this sensation that I was being watched. I opened my eyes, and...I'm not kidding..."Nutball's" face was about six inches away from mine, he was pointing at the iPod Shuffle hanging from my neck, and his voice BOOMED: "What the Hay-ell is that thang?" I just said, "iPod" and continued to ignore him.

Periodically, I'd hear "Nutball" mutter something to himself, grunt, blurt out something to the flight attendant or a random passenger walking to the lavatory, etc. He'd fidget, bump me occasionally (I think it was intentional), but I still managed to sleep for several hours.

At one point, I woke up, and "nature" called. I glanced over at "Nutball" and he appeared to be sleeping (with his blanket completely over his head), so I figured that the coast was clear. After I came out of the lavatory (do NOT go in there!), I looked toward my seat. What did I see? "Nutball" was in the aisle stretching and...doing tai chi moves. He saw me coming back, he climbed into his window seat, he inhaled as if he was going to say something, I put my earbuds back into my ears, turned my back toward him, and ignored him.

I think the only other thing I said to him was "...have a nice time in London" as I was walking off the plane.

Why me? WHY ME?

Catching The Worm...

I've been waking up kind of early every morning during this trip to Chicago, which is OK by me. This morning, I woke up at Dave and Shannon's house...next to their dog Ari...at 3:00 a.m. I stuck my fingers in his ears, scratched them until there was sufficient doggy ear wax on my fingers, and then let him lick my fingers like I used to do with Dominique (dogs LOVE that!). Both content, we fell back to sleep and I didn't wake up again until 6:00 a.m. when I got up and let Ari out into the backyard for his morning business. Coming here and sharing a bed with Ari is nice (Dave, Shannon, and the kids aren't bad either...). I look forward to it. However, I have to say...

Mrs. TBF: Don't get too excited. I'm not ready to get another dog...yet.

The trip has been going well. I've seen a lot of friends and relatives, a combo sammich has been consumed, my first U.S. steak of the trip was inhaled last night, some new clothes have been purchased, etc.

I'm in the actual city of Chicago right now about one mile west of Wrigley Field (home of the Chicago Cubs baseball team for those of you who don't follow American sports). This afternoon, I'm going to drive a couple of miles to meet up with...well, it's a surprise. This evening...dinner at Hooter's with my sister and her family. I go there for the wings....HONEST!

Mrs. TBF has returned from Kuala Lumpur, and she's back in Basel. Tomorrow morning, she leaves for the U.S. We'll be on the same continent again, but our paths will not cross. I'll arrive back in Basel on Wednesday, and she'll arrive back in Basel on Thursday. I wish she was here.

In the meantime, I'm snuggling with Ari, and Mrs. TBF is snuggling with King. I guess that'll have to do for now.

Burning The Candle At Both Ends...

I'm in Chicago. Actually, I'm at my sister's house in Barrington, Illinois. As you can see from the time, I woke up kind of early this morning (4:40 a.m. to be exact). Since I made it last night to the end of Monday Night Football and didn't go to sleep until about 11:00 p.m., I thought I'd sleep-in a bit later than I did. I guess it wasn't to be.

Our trip from Basel to Chicago went like clockwork. I say "our" because I flew here with my parents. Mrs. TBF dropped us all off at Basel Airport for a 7:00 a.m. flight to London, and then she went home to prepare for her own flight to Kuala Lumpur. We're pretty far apart right now, and I don't like it.

We flew American Airlines from London to Chicago. I was a little concerned while I was in the departure area; not only because I was flying in coach, but also because I was concerned that I'd be seated next to one of the many grossly overweight people that I saw waiting with me for the flight. My parents had the two seats side by side on one side of the aisle, and then I had the aisle seat across from them in the section of five seats. Fortunately, there was no need for concern because the only people in my section were me on the aisle, and an old man four seats away. I had room to stretch out, and I slept for about 90 minutes during the flight (thank you gin & tonic and French wine) - a rarity for me on a flight from Europe to the U.S. Oh...and before you go saying what a good son I am for having chosen to fly with my parents in economy class: I pretty much listened to the iPod, read, and...ignored them for most of the trip. I know...I'm a jerk!

Let me clear my head of jet lag, and I'll post some things here and there during the week. I'm not using my own computer, so I'll probably not post any pictures until I get back to Basel.

Friday...Ummm...Saturday Flashback: Boo!

Trick or treat!!!!!!

Back in 1965, my mom decided that a bunny outfit would be the perfect Halloween costume for me. Oh, the horror! Dad: Couldn't you have stepped in and demanded a more masculine costume? It's amazing that I made it through that Halloween without a lifetime's worth of emotional scarring. And, look at the size of that trick or treat bag. How much candy/sugar would that thing hold? I'm thinking about ten pounds worth. The fact that I overcame that sugar overload and ended up with good teeth must be a miracle of a combination of genetics, good oral hygiene, and self-discipline.

I'll be leaving for Chicago with my parents this Monday morning which means I'll get to see my nieces' and nephew's Halloween costumes in person. I'm going to have to check out upon arrival how my nephew's dressing up for Halloween.

If there's any hint of androgyny...I'm hopping...umm..stepping in!

Nothing Hits The Spot Like...

...pork knee.

After wandering around Prague semi-aimlessly for hours, we needed some food. When I told the hotel concierge that I wanted to eat some "real" Czech food, he pointed down the street and told us to walk about 200 meters to a place called Bredovsky dvur. Heck...he hadn't steered us wrong the night before, so we took his advice once again.

The verdict? Bredovsky dvur = carnivore nirvana!

I could go on forever about how much I enjoyed my pig knee meal. I really could! However, I'll just let the pictures do the talking.

The next morning, I woke up with the taste of pig knee in my mouth, showered, and then...we made our way down, once again, to the buffet breakfast. After breakfast, we checked out of the hotel and hopped into the car for the return trip to the airport. I think we all smelled of garlic.

How Czech of us!

Prague: Our Dogs Were Barkin'...

Three essentials in Prague: a good breakfast for energy, a good map for navigating the twisting and turning streets, and a good pair of walking shoes. Let me tell you - we walked...for hours...on cobblestones...up and down stairs...

Despite the unpronounceable street names, we managed to navigate Prague fairly easily - thank you very much - and I think I only got us lost one time (yes, I'm a man and I refused to ask for directions...).

Sure the architecture is impressive...but look at those damn sewer hole covers! Now that's something you don't see in the tour books!!! Hey...what the heck were those passers-by staring at? Can't we admire sewer hole covers in private?

We checked out the shops, stopped for a drink and a snack at a tiny restaurant, climbed a zillion steps up to the castle where we took in the scenic (albeit a little hazy) view, and then crossed the Charles Bridge. I was amazed at the huge number of tourists. My God...what is it like during the peak summer tourist months?

A lot of calories were burned walking around that Saturday afternoon. It was time to refuel...

There's Something Very Comforting...

...about a hotel that devotes an entire floor to breakfast. I slept like a baby having gone to bed knowing that in a few hours breakfast would be prepared directly under us as we slept on the 3rd floor.

As you probably already know, there are very few things that give me more pleasure in life than hotel buffet breakfasts. You can keep your yogurt, fruit, and all the other healthy things that normally start off my eating day. When we travel, I'm looking for the creamy scrambled eggs, sausages, pancakes, lox, pasta, chicken, and...most importantly...bacon.

If I owned Hotel Palace Praha, I would just name the second floor...BACON!!!!

Prague: We Have Returned...

I was in Prague six months ago. Mrs. TBF was in Prague a couple of years ago for a meeting. My mother? This was her first time in Prague.

We arrived in Prague early on Friday afternoon. During our flight, I proposed a little competition: Who would be the first person to smell garlic breath/B.O.?

Let me explain...

The last time I was in Prague, I noticed that many Czechs had an overwhelming, although not totally unpleasant, odor of garlic emanating from their beings. This trip would not disappoint... We walked through Customs, saw the man holding the "Mr. & Mrs. TBF" sign, followed him to his car, and climbed in. After he climbed behind the wheel, my mom immediately said "valko sipuli". "Mitä?" (What?), I said. Mrs. TBF chimed in with a "knoblauch" (garlic in German). A split second later, the smell of garlic slapped me in the face. Mom and Mrs. TBF had won the garlic-smelling competition.

About thirty minutes later, we arrived at our hotel. The outside of the hotel was ever-so-slightly dingy. However, the inside did not disappoint. We had ordered an extra bed in our room for my mom, but the hotel had upgraded us to adjoining rooms. Nice!

Unfortunately, Mrs. TBF had a conference call for work in which she had to participate. I won't post a picture of her on her conference call. Let's just say that I'll add them to my personal collection of vacation/conference call pictures I have from Paris...Helsinki...etc... Since Mrs. TBF was going to be busy for a couple of hours, my mom and I set off on foot.

We walked to the main square in old town, checked out the fantastic sights, and then slogged on to the Charles Bridge. After a quick snack, we made our way back to the hotel.

I was excited to find out, when we made it back to our room, that Mrs. TBF was done with her conference call. After enjoying our complimentary "Welcome" drinks in the bar, we made the five-minute walk to a restaurant - Restaurant Zvonice - the concierge had recommended for dinner.

Zvonice was nice. It was on the eighth floor of a bell tower, and the restaurant itself is in the actual belfry. I snapped this picture of Mom and Mrs. TBF. Come on! You can do better than that! Look like you're having fun! That's better...

Blitzblogging...

My parents arrived one week ago today, and I haven't really been making time to blog. I'll try to squeeze some blogging in a little bit later today.

My dad left for Finland last Thursday for a few days of visiting relatives. He returns to Basel tonight. Last weekend, my mom, Mrs. TBF, and I took a weekend trip to Prague.

More words and pictures...later.

Ish Ya Berfday...

Lots o' special days to celebrate in TBF world right now...

Yesterday:

My MOM turned 60-something. She and my dad are on their way to Basel right now as I type. American Airlines called my sister's house just before they were all set to leave her house for the airport at 1:00 p.m. in order to catch a 4:55 flight from O'Hare to London. The flight ended up being changed to 8:00 p.m., so they'll be here at 4:20 this afternoon instead of 11:15 this morning. I slept until 9:00 a.m., and I feel good. They won't!

JOHN turned fiddy something. Yes John, it was YOUR birthday yesterday. Sorry, majority rules!

DIANA and COLM (sister and bro-in-law) celebrated their 14th wedding anniversary. DAMN! We buy gifts for each other for 5-year celebrations which means we have to buy them an anniversary gift next year. Now that I think about it, my sister turns forty this December...which means I have to buy her a gift this December...DOH!

THE JEEP was purchase seven years ago yesterday, and its not looking too shabby since it barely has over 40,000 miles on it.


Today:

Jo the mom-in-law turns 70-something today. She's not looking too shabby either!


GETTIN' OLD! Um...the Jeep, that is.

updated later: I just saw that it's Kirk and Gretchen's anniversary TODAY! Too much excitement for TBF. Something's gotta go...I guess I'll have to get rid of the Jeep!

Friday Flashback: Meet The Parents Edition...

We're going WAAAAAAY back for this week's Friday Flashback - back to 1966, to be exact.

This picture was taken during a family summer vacation in Finland. My dad, sporting an Elvis-like hairdo, is doing the typical not-looking-at-the-camera picture pose that Finns tend to do. Why didn't I end up with hair like that??? I think I was already balding in this picture!

Speaking of hair, I know my mom is not going to be happy that I posted this picture because of the (shall we say?) frazzled look of her hair. However, we have to cut her some slack because she was about four-months pregnant with my sister in this picture and had probably been napping in the car with the window open when my dad decided that a photo stop was necessary.

There are many unknowns: I don't know who took the picture, I don't know exactly where the picture was taken, and I don't know from whom we borrowed the car (are those "suicide" doors?). What I do know is that I was a couple of months shy of four-years-old, and I was already over half my father's height (5'11"/180 cm) and two-thirds of my mother's height (she's 5'7"/170 cm). Look at the size of my head as compared to my skinny body for God's sake. It's amazing that I was able to walk in an upright position.

I just happened upon this picture this past week while looking through a box of random photos. I'm not really sure why I have this old photo (most of the old photos are at my parents' house), but it was a timely discovery because it celebrates the fact that my parents will be arriving in Basel on Tuesday for a two-week stay. They haven't been here since February, 2003.

What's on the agenda? You'll just have to wait and see...