Veg Pt. 2

Part two of the story of my vegetarianism is now up at Next Gen Green.

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Geburtstag

Today I am 36 years old. It's strange to write that. I remember when I turned 26. I went out to eat with my parents at Petey's II in Orland Park on LaGrange Road and had duck. For some reason I'll never forget that meal. The room was crowded and suffused with gray-white light from the overcast sky outside.

It felt so weird sitting there. By comparison, on the previous birthday, 25, I was incredibly drunk and stoned after a night at the Greenpoint Tavern. I spent an hour throwing up on the loft couch, feeling as though I might die, before passing out. Such is a young person's life. 

Earlier at lunch I tried to remember all of my birthdays back to age 18. I'm happy to say I can recall 13 with absolute certainty, with two probables and four can't-remembers. When I wrote them out, I was struck by how different they were year to year, particularly before I was married. I don't mean that in a "loose dudes" way, but just that I was in a different city each time through my early 20s.

Yes, I've had to move a lot in my life, but the biggest benefit is that I've met so many people. I'm really staggered when I look at my Facebook profile at the disparate places they come from. I can remember them all just like it was yesterday, and there are so many more I can think of whose names are foggy, or who've avoided social media, or whom I'm too embarrassed to track because they may not remember me.

I finally settled down when I moved here to Chicago. And though the general setting's been the same for a decade, I did find someone to share the yearly celebration with: my wife, Erika, a.ka. Miss August 22. I've always liked that our birthdays are back to back. And if I forget what happened one year, she can usually remember it with her powerful brain.

If you're reading this and you know me, all I can say at this point is thank you. Thank you for crossing your life with mine. I know it hasn't always ended amicably. If you think I'm an idiot, I can't blame you. I can only say I'm sorry. And if you think I don't want to talk to you anymore, that's not the case. My life is so busy now, I've never been good with the phone, and I'm also kind of lazy. I know I have to make a better effort.

The experience of living is ultimately an individual one, and I cherish my alone time maybe more than most. But it's the people you meet who make it interesting and, ultimately, meaningful — when we reach outside ourselves and connect. Thanks for being you, folks. You've made my life better for it.

The Unexpected Vegetarian

Every once in awhile I get to leave the Woundup Corp. office here on W. Hubbard ("The Magnesium Mile").

I'm doing some off-site blogging at Next Gen Green. A former co-worker of mine runs this fantastic site that focuses on healthy, responsible, sustainable living. My three-part piece, over the course of the next three Mondays, has to do with how I became a vegetarian. An interesting story.

READ ON!

Wigs, come and gone

Flexing some fantasy muscle today. Our league is starting to shake out, and it's looking like my youngest brother and I are going to be gunning for the coveted Culpable Cup. (That's what I call it, at least.) There might be a couple other dudes in the mix, but I truly feel a hermano y hermano championship match-up is imminent.

Cold day and a cold evening. Eagles/Giants on TV. I'm in the right place. We saw old friend (and old Woundup fan) Vanessa this morning. Always good to see her. She lives in a really sweet apartment now, too. That reminds me that we were roommates six years ago when I first moved into this wonderful city of ours. I just talked to Ted, and I halted in saying I moved to NYC just prior to the great 2000 election flap to spare an old friend a reminder of the passage of time. But now I've said it anyway. Sorry, Ted.

What to close on. ... Last night Erika and I cracked open HBO's "John Adams," and I am still confused about 18th century men's wig protocol. Sometimes they wore powdered wigs, but they also seem to have worn their hair long and braided it like the powdered wigs, but then Adams was bald and wore a natural-colored wig in this style because he was bald(?), but then he also wore the long white wig of a lawyer in the English court system. Someone really needs to help me out with this, and I don't want a Wikipedia answer. I want someone who actually knows this from a history class or a fashion class or something. Please.

Greetings from New Jersey

Hello, Woundup fans! It's been too long. Well, I don't know if I should inundate you with a blow-by-blow update, so I'll just say we're having a very nice time in New Jersey. Erika's AP English training at picturesque Drew University is going well, and I'm enjoying all the amenities of the Morristown Hyatt. (Erika got a steal of a deal on Hotwire.)

Oh, it hasn't all been sitting around the hotel room, though I have been watching an unhealthy amount of ESPN — particularly "First Take." The real reason we came out here was to see New York again — our last visit was in 2004. So far we've had smash-up vegan brunch in Ft. Greene, bowling in Williamsburg, dim sum in Chinatown and a German beer garden in the Lower East Side. It's been great to see Tim and Ted in their natural habitat. We even got to see the Viva Radio headquarters in Park Slope. And we reconnected with Jonathan and his new lady friend. Sounds like he's loving the city.

Tonight Tim is hosting a dinner party in Sunnyside, so we'll be off in a few hours for more high times with friends. We're hoping to sneak in the beach tomorrow, but that depends on the weather. In the meantime, keep Chicago clean for us, and if you could hold onto our mail, we'd really appreciate it.

I am McDyess, man

Two points of good news ...

1. Tim tipped me off to Effete Musings: a Detroit-New York comedy clearinghouse cartel. I had no idea! Read at once!

2. The Primitivo Zinfandel from Puglia is back at Trader Joe's for the $4 price. Did they read my earlier post? Whether or not they did, I still drank two glasses last night. I guess that means I'm feeling better.

Class of '94

Two months ago I met up with my old high school friend Phil. It was really great to see him and meet his family. He unearthed a comic book we did together back when we were 13 -- an unexpected and awesome surprise.

Continuing that work from way back when, Phil now writes and draws his own Web comic called "Schadenfreude." There's a link at right. The newest strip made me laugh out loud.