Next time that you’re stuck on the tarmac after overpaying for your ticket and then paying extra for your bags, pillow, blanket, peanuts, safety equipment and possibly even for wearing a jacket you might just wish these folks had taken the same flight. (after the plane finally got into the terminal all passengers were told they would be billed for the extra, impromptu or not, musical amenity).

…hello?…um…helloooh?

Funny but a touch on the itchy side don’t ya’ think?

My latest entry for the attic here is dedicated to my mom and mom’s in general (minus the mommie dearests of course, no offense ladies) and how, no matter how long it may take, you are always proven right. When very young, for instance, it didn’t take long at all to have your warnings of “hot!” realized. The same can be said of, say, “she’ll scratch you” or “continually banging your head on that wall to get what you want will just hurt.” Some warnings took a little longer to prove mom correct like the consequences of not brushing your teeth every day (hello Dr. Drill) or how crying wolf could and would eventually bite you in the ass.

But there were the ones that seemed to us almost comical because, in the infinite mistaken wisdom of youth, we all thought mom to just be old and silly and maybe just repeating grandma truisms. My favorite was always the “wear clean underwear” missive. Being a smart ass I always thought “well, if I do get in an accident, they’re just going to cut the underwear off me anyway, so what does it matter? What kind of embarrassment could there possibly be as I cling to life?” Thankfully after all these years I’ve never had any awful accidents (except for that perm in the late 70’s) that might raise the “wear clean underwear” issue. I’ve never had to have mom by my hospital bed crying hysterically, not over my possibly not surviving the night but instead my poor choice of unwashed fruit of the looms that won’t allow her to ever show her face again at the weekly English Club.

No, “wear clean underwear” always just hung in limbo and every time I didn’t I would return home with a sense of victory, though, thanks to you mom, that victory was always hollow as if I had dodged yet another bullet. (For those of you reading this saying “My god man! How often do you wear soiled underwear?!” Never, but I have left the house often wearing underwear that should have been cleaned a little more vigorously or was just practically ready to disintegrate). It wasn’t until a couple of weekends ago though, at the age of 46, that mom was vindicated, as moms usually are, when I went to the emergency room because of a distinct pain in my leg that had me, courtesy of surfing WebMD, scared somethingless of blood clots. Turns out it was varicose veins and me just getting old I guess, but when the nurse asked me to remove my pants and put on the very unsnug hospital gown she offered I remembered that I had left the house wearing a pair of Batman underwear. Kinda cool actually in a kid-like way with the Batman logo prominently protecting the front, but Batman underwear nonetheless. And, again, at the age of 46.

“Um…Frankenberry…you did say Batman underw…” Yes, and I’ll cut you off right there bemused and possibly frightened before you ask me more of the obvious. They were a joke gift as part of a birthday bushel of stuff from my Maria and the J.G. The two of them, not really knowing what to get me for said day (I’m the worst to buy for as I never really want anything) decided to just get me a bunch of small things which included, among other things, a Ronnie James Dio T-shirt, a Beatles coffee mug and…Batman underwear. I wore them this particular day for two reasons. 1: because I didn’t think Maria’s Jagger ever thought I would do so and 2: because a good friend was working his last day at Cumulus and I thought it would be funny to say I wore them to be strong so as not to pee myself from the heightened emotion. Didn’t seem so funny though as I stripped for that backless hospital nightie. They weren’t soiled and they weren’t falling off of me out of years and years and years of ‘guy can’t toss his old friend’ use but they were Batman pajamas. Did I mention at the age of 46? Mom? After all these years, you are again absolutely right. Proper underwear will be in order in the future. Love you too.

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Tomorrow a good friend and co-worker here in the building is taking off for greener (hopefully for him) and really damn hot pastures. WRRV’s Shmonty is heading out with his better half, Kari, to Arizona as she admirably reaches higher for her doctorate (serious envy on my part) and he accompanies her realizing the most important thing in life. To just say he will be missed around Radioville here is almost trivial as real friends and daily sanity saving constants are always missed in a much more profound way.

Being around radio for a couple of years or so I’ve worked with many really talented people, many prima donna’s, and many hacks (usually the last two combined) but I have never come across as quick and natural a wit as that of Eric Ashmont (oh…that’s where Shmonty originates…quick you are). I’ve also met some very funny people along the way but far too many of them in a condescendingly funny way and that’s, well, not funny. I’ve met a great many who try too hard to be funny and that’s, well, usually painful. I’ve come across a lot who always have to be the funniest person in the room and that’s, well, a knee jerk to a blunt object. I’ve also run into those who have to work at funny and do and that’s, well, to be admired. Shmonty though is a rare exception. He is easily and genuinely funny in that beautiful, screwy, irreverent and intelligent way that can make some folks laugh just a little warily and uncomfortably, which of course is funny in and of itself. He, too, is also very human and that combination is even rarer.

That is a daily dose of a person that cannot be replaced but can be treasured instead for having had the pleasure and laughter of it at all. Good luck to you my friend, to both of you. And to Kari a second dose of luck as he is, after all, Shmonty. Stay together and make lots of funny intelligent babies because, in the world we live in now, that is also rare.

Cheers,
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(No, I’m not the guy in the football jersey. I’m the creepy looking one peering over Shmonty’s shoulder in the background with my Maria looking oh so cute as always)

As I write this I’ve just finished enjoying a week’s vacation that included, among other things, a few mornings of not having to answer the 4am puppy alarm clock…ah the absolute glory of sleeping in (refer to the first paragraph of my last entry and to just being old in general). During the week…

– We enjoyed two water parks, Maria, the J.G. and I, Splashdown Beach and Mountain Creek, both great places to feel young again and get out some liberating wet screams and yelps of joy.
– I surprised my Maria by reorganizing the furniture in the living room, something she has been wanting to do for quite some time now but always seemed to stay on hold to her dismay and surely my fault. Now, Maria is notoriously awful at surprises both for and to…“What’d you get me for my birthday?!”…“It’s September honey, your birthday’s in November”… “Oh, you’re no fun!”… “Do you want to know what I got you for Christmas?!”…“It’s August honey”… “Oh, you’re no fun!” So, in the middle of my dragging and huffing and lifting and puffing and oh so carefully removing and replacing far too expensive Wizard of Oz nicks and Betty Boop nacks she, of course, tried to ruin the surprise without even knowing it by texting me about when we were going to finally move the living room around. My noncommittal lazy replies had her quite steamed by the time she got home from her hair appointment. Then she saw the “new” living room. Chalk one up for me. I love surprises.
– I finally caught up the last number of episodes of “Lost” that had been in the DVR forever it seems. Maria had been on me for quite some time to finally watch them as she already had, patience is akin to the surprise thing with Maria. I’m man enough to admit that quite a few tears were shed at the final episode, “Oh Jack,” by myself for the first time and Maria in a repeat. The tears were also able to keep Jagger’s unending questions about what was going at bay. The sobs drowned them out until he got bored.
– I did laundry. Stop the envy, it’s unbecoming. Laundry was extra special this time around too because I have some new pairs of boxer briefs that I got for my birthday (birthdays and Christmas never change, just the ones who buy you the underwear) and I didn’t have to adapt the fold out of the dryer to take into account the handles, or tears, that are in both sides of the elastic above the main part of all my boxer briefs. It was quite exciting.
– Parts of the MLB All-Star game were watched but not without Maria and J.G. getting annoyed with my bitching about the game deciding home field advantage in the World Series, a moronic Bud Selig idea that still hasn’t yet met it’s death. With that still being the case though, at least the NL finally got it’s first win since Columbus surveyed some trees and mountains in the ocean’s distance. I also didn’t watch the home run hitting contest, an absolute borefest every year. I know, I’m a grouch.
– I somehow remembered to pay bills including that pesky mortgage, which for some reason keeps bothering me every month with paper in the mail.
– We caught “Toy Story 3” which had Jagger hiding his face from the embarrassment of his mother and me quietly weeping (or not quietly according to him) at the end of the film. I think he punched me in the arm.
– I helped my sister and her guy Buck move stuff in her house as she prepares to have the floors redone by the fine folks at Floors Like Glass who did floors here in the attic. The stuff included a pellet stove. A REALLY heavy pellet stove. I can sing Michael Jackson songs now, even the early ones.
– We did a few things around the house that really pecked away at the to-do list. It’s only a congressional report long now.
– I ate a couple of times at my newest favorite place, 5 Guys Burger and Fries. Never knew about the place. I do now. Tasty.
– We enjoyed ourselves, always a good barometer of a successful vacation week.

With the aforementioned All-Star Break happening during the week I didn’t get a chance to watch much of my Buccos on MLB’s TV computer package but, well, they are the Buccos and I had a good week. No reason to have added misery to the mix. So now it’s back at the Radio Ranch after a week at the FrankenGreco Ranch. Other than the usual adapting when getting back to work after a vacation all is well. For all those who didn’t miss Frankenberry while he was gone for a week? I’m back from the attic. My sincerest apologies.

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First off I want to apologize for my blogging tardiness. Alas the 4am puppy alarm clock that is on 7 mornings a week here at the FrankenGreco ranch forces an early rack time (not something I’m a fan of by the way as there is a little bit of vampire in me).

Anyway back I am and a little bit older as I celebrated another birthday last week. I realize they do come every year, amazingly right around the same time, but these days, as I’m sure some of you would attest, it seems to happen a little faster than would be liked. So when I went to get my hair cut a couple of days later the additional request that I get now on a regular basis from the stylist as to whether I would like my eyebrows and ears trimmed pained me a touch more than usual.

But for the birthday I took my Maria to see the Yankees down at their new digs. Not brand spanking new anymore but new to Maria as she hadn’t been down there since it opened. Now for those who know me well or actually for those who know me only casually or for those who just pass me in the street I’m sure you’re saying “You took your Maria where for your birthday Frankenberry?” To Yankee Stadium? Yes I did. “But don’t you hate the Yankees?” As a matter of fact I do, to the core of my being. “You did say it was your birthday right?” That I did and that it was. “But isn’t whoever is playing the Yankees your second favorite team?” Yes, but to stop you before you talk again because you’re annoying me now I took my Maria to the game on my birthday because I realized it was probably the only chance we would have for her to see her boys this summer. She gladly weathers at least one boring (for her) Bucco/Met game with me every summer so it was the least I could do. Maria is a big Yankee fan and I’m the only non-Yankee fan she’s ever dated (which I am reminded of often) so she misses out on that relationship camaraderie of cheering and hugging and high-fiving precious victory moments together that only shared fandom and relationship building can bring. I know she misses such bonding too because last fall she asked if I would join her to watch the last out of the Yankees World Series victory and cheer them on for her sake. She even played the tried and true “If you love me” guilt card. I left the room. I know, I’m not good at this.

So I thought I’d take her to see a game, let her check out new the ballpark and if I did so on my birthday all the better for me to maybe build a little bridge over those troubled shared fandom waters and alleviate some of that “If you love me” guilt. Plus with it being my birthday I figured I would get at least one $400 beer gratis…but then I felt more guilt and paid for everything. I even bought beers for Val (from Mix 97.7) and her friend who went with us, big Yankee fans both. Yes, guilt slides.

Maria enjoyed herself, though, as well as Val and her pal. For my own piece of mind I did tell them that I would be rooting for the Mariners, which I did, and then I quietly left our seats to hang out by the men’s room (I felt a pee coming was my excuse) as the painful sea of blue and white rose and cheered the great Mariano for the last out. But the gals were happy with their day and victory and we closed things out at my favorite watering hole, Maroney’s Hub in Beacon, at my request, for some wings and a few beers that were on somebody else. Thank you J.J. It was, in the long run, a good day and I think my Maria still loves me, Yankee fan or not. Doubly good.
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Now you have to be really loaded to be rocking to these guys, who are so good that everybody at the show must be at the bar with their backs to the racket because look how long it takes for someone to get to miss face down.

http://www.ebaumsworld.com/player.swf

…and round one goes to Cat!

http://embed.break.com/MTg3MjI4MA==
Genius Cat Uses Forcefield Against Dog – Watch more Funny Videos

“…Ohhhhh that feels sooooo good it makes me feel a little evil…awwwww yes…bring out the devil in me!!!”