Russian games to play other than Roulette

I have always loved Tetris: the math...the music...the mayhem...they all seem to make it one of those games that never grows old. But you know that feeling when you get to level 10 or 11 and the speed suddenly reaches ridiculous (and goes to plaid)? That's what November 24th felt like this year. Life took an ubrupt increase in tempo and for some reason I'm still frantically playing the game. I feel like I'm stacking blocks too hastily and in a very unorganized fashion. The list of things to do seems to be outweighed only by the cost of completing it: Christmas decorating; Christmas shopping; birthday shopping; party throwing; party attending; musical rehearsals; musical attending; cooking; cleaning; crapping; and certain so-and-sos who haven't seen me in sooooo long and simply must. Each one pops up like the one zig-zag Tetris piece you couldn't possibly make fit, especialy under pressure.

The Christmas shopping may be the most stressful of these to-dos. What they don't tell you in premarital counseling is that the list of potential X-mas cheer recipients grows exponentially once you are espoused. It's a simple mathmatical formula really: (relatives x 2) + (best friends x2, then x2 again since married couples do everything with significant others) + regular friends (which you don't multiply since one of you most likely moved far away from those friends to be with your mate) + (acquaintences/2 since they deserve smaller presents) + (anyone you think is going to get you a nice present).
In short: 2R + 4BF + F + A/2 + FU = broke.
Liz and I have decided to throw math out the window and not get anything for anyone. If you are reading this, chances are you are not getting a present from us. Bah-humbug.

The holidays are so full of complex algebra, it's baffling to me that people choose this time of year to throw elaborate parties. Take this last weekend for example.

Friday was Lindsay's birthday. As such, we decided as a group to go into the city to sing at a karaoke bar...and when I say we decided, I meant we all humored Lindsay. I was actually pretty psyched to get into the city. It had admittedly been a long while since I experienced Philly's social life. The karaoke bar in question was on (I kid you not) Drury Lane. ::insert muffin man joke here:: It was a very well-decorated and well-lit bar at the end of a pretty ugly and dark alley. One would assume we were the only people who knew about this gem of a bar. Not so much. It seems we had wandered into Philadelphia on the eve of a giant Army vs. Navy football game. My three favorite things in the whole world in one stadium??? Say it isn't so! Unfortunately for us, the stadium was empty and the streets of Philadelphia (not the Boss's) were completely full of our comrades-in-arms looking for some booze and nookie. After an hour of shouting at the top of our lungs to merely accomplish civilized conversation, we decided to hop the speedline back to Lindsay and Buddy's house to make our own cocktails and games, neither of which involved the Army or Navy.

On Saturday, Liz's friend Jennie was also throwing a party. This one was semi-formal so I had to wear something spiffy. I ended up wearing a rather nice green button-down with a matching tie and khakis. And while this was appropriate for the soiré in question, it may have been a tad too posh for the standup of Brian Regan whose show was earlier that evening. While wearing this may have been a bit out of place, at least I wasn't wearing eyeliner like my wife. Never wear eye make-up if you plan to cry laughing.

We got to the party around 10:30 with a bottle of whiskey and an open mind. The latter was required because we knew that this crowd was going to be a rabble of theater folk. Most everybody was dressed very nicely and there was a fully stocked bar with plenty of glasses for everybody. Between all that and the wonderfully tasty hors d'heurves, you would think the atmosphere was very classy. It probably could have been if it wasn't comprised of 50 people crammed into a 2 bedroom apartment; one bedroom being off limits and the other a makeshift smokers' lounge as there was an expected mother present. It's a good thing actors are used to physical contact because there was no avoiding it. Nobody was shy, mostly because almost everybody was good and sloshed. I had a whiskey and two Manhattan's (wonderfully mixed by my new friend Rich). Having consumed that much alcohol with no subsantial meal to speak of meant that I had to hang around for a while. I took that time to mingle and barter my way into the latest production of Tommy. Oh yes, I will be playing guitar for Tommy. I'm not even going to learn the music, I'm just going to throw windmills at my guitar when I deem certain points in the play to be boring. At the end, I'm going to smash my guitar into the amp and light the drums on fire. Rock and roll!

I went to bed that night around 4:30am and much like weekends in the past, I was up hung-over at 6:30am to lead worship at church. The kicker was that I had to be at the second service to conduct yet another choir anthem. Ugh. I was reminded of my brother's 21st birthday party. That night I had topped lots of tequila with a glass or two of scotch. I was so drunk I didn't feel a cigar burn its way through my finger. I certainly felt it at the crack of dawn when I had to drag my drunk body all the way to Willow Grove PA to wave that finger at a full church orchestra. If you've ever seen the Nutty Professor, there is a wonderful scene in which a hung-over Jerry Lewis is in class and perceives every noise he hears as a sort of canon-fire/earthquake sound. That's what an orchestra and/or choir and organ sounds like after a night of no-sleep drinking. Let this be a lesson to everybody experiencing holiday stress. Drinking does not make the time less stressful. It merely makes it more enjoyable.

There are more parties ahead and I have yet to start my Christmas shopping. On top of that, I have to start learning Tommy music and gear up for a gig on the 17th (for more information, check out my band's website) As the Yuletide looms over me, I realize that there will be no Russian spacecraft blasting into the atmosphere over my efforts. I may very well lose this game of Tetris horribly. But at least I get to hear that computerized fart sound of the screen resetting.

Enough complaining. Check out this guy!

I wish he had "Luck be a Lady" playing when he did this.