Episode 36: The Minch Family's Chicago Adventure

Hey Guys! I realize it's been a while, but the business center at the hotel stunk and trying to blog from a phone is a living nightmare so I put this little gem on hold, until now. Every year The Minch Family takes a vacation. During an unofficial meeting about it a few months ago, everything seemed lined up for us to take the same Ocean City trip we had taken the last few years. I made the suggestion we try something different, perhaps a big city, like Chicago. We could catch a Cubs game, eat deep dish pizza, see the kidney bean sculpture at Millennium Park. My suggestion was met with a tepid response at best. The next day something magical happened, my brother Dennis decided he liked (and subsequently came up with) the idea. With Dennis' higher stock value in the family, everyone got on board with after his endorsement. The Minch's were going to Chicago!

We left at 7AM on Saturday. For the millionth time, I tried staying up all night so I would sleep in the car. I even watched Scream 4 at around 3am. For the millionth time, that plan failed and I was left tired, uncomfortable, and filled with memories of a bad movie.

For those of you outside the Rochester NY area, of the many things we lack, perhaps the worst is a Sonic Drive In. We've had television ads for them for roughly 15 years, but the closest one is out in East BumbleAss. So we make it a point to swing by one on the way to any vacation spot. This year to be different, we decided to get Sonic on the way back and instead we would try White Castle. The GPS (the worst antagonist of this trip) said the closest one was in Cleveland. What it didn't tell us was exactly how unsavory our surrounding would be. Also, it didn't mention how the workers would be none too happy with our order of 30 sliders. (If it makes a difference, there were 6 of us. It doesn't? Okay screw you then!) I can only imagine the amount of spit/dish detergent/rat poison that was put in each of those sliders, but against all odds we made it out alive and with our order...

Not only was Neil Patrick Harris not there, they won't serve you if you make that joke.

 Before delving into Chicago, I'll tell you about the day trip we took to Milwaukee. Since it was only an hour away from Chicago, we decided to head up to see a Brewery and the Brewers. Maybe even have a brew. Instead of hitting up a corporate piss water refinery like Miller, we went to the independent Lakefront Brewery. Unlike usual brew tours, you were given beer throughout the tour, not at the end. The more tours I go to, the more I'm convinced I should be giving brewery tours as a living. Our tour guide, whose name was Gus or Fletch or something weird had the makings of a guy who rolled off of his couch at the crack of noon to head to work and give a tour. He then said he was the owner's cousin, verifying my theory. He had a lot to contend with on our tour, as we had three or four hyperactive kids running around. What kind of selfish ass parents bring their kids on a brewery tour? There's no way they'll be interested!!!

Then it was off to Miller Park. We had some extra time and we were all hungry so we decided to head towards the park and eat at one of its adjacent bars/restaurants. It's important to note, it was a scant 127 degrees in Wisconsin that day. As we walked up the parking lot we saw something completely new to us, people were tailgating the ballgame!!! As Western New Yorkers tailgating was nothing new, but never for baseball. Impressed, we made our way to the park to find some food...

As we walked around the outside of the park, we realized that it was an island unto itself. That's when we made the grave realization...

Cue Realization music...

The fans were tailgating because there is nothing around! The park doesn't open for another 40 minutes! While none of us were thrilled with this, it sat particularly poorly with the females on our trip. We muscled it out and got some brats and cheese fries once the park opened. (This is why mascot Bernie Brewer has had three heart attacks) The only other problem, was the dome was left open so it remained 127 degrees throughout the entire game. It was indeed too hot to drink beer. Don't get me wrong, I tried, but that first one went down like a cup full of nails.  Sidenote: Brewers lost that game when closer/civil war general John Axford blew it in the 9th.

The next day we went to historic Wrigley Field. As someone who wants to go to every ballpark at least once n his life, this was a major destination.

Wrigley has a far better set up than Miller, in that there are bars and stores and things to do before the game all around. On the suggestion of my good friend Bill, we went to both The Cubby Bear and Sluggers, the latter was quite popular with my brother, as it had an upstairs batting cage. The girls mentally prepped for another ballgame, by getting moderately to fairly hammered. I would judge them, but I waited until I got inside the park to slurp down $7 beers. Unlike Miller, those went down smooth as silk!

I had the hope that somehow, someway Bill Murray would be at the game. Sadly, instead I wound up with Jim Belushi. Some days that seems like a metaphor for my life. Hoping for Bill Murray and then getting Jim Belushi. Side Note: The Cubs lost that game and Will Ferrell and Zach Galifianakis were at the next game.

As far as touristy stuff, we ate deep dish pizza at both Gino's East and Pizzeria Due. We went to Millennium Park to see the Kidney Bean. We also walked down Navy Pier, stopping at the Harry Caray's Tavern where references to the old SNL sketches are met with eye rolls.

To be fair to the ladies (my sister and sister-in-law) who had been brave little troopers during the two baseball games, we took a trip to a Chicago nightclub. I think it was called Leg Room or AssHats or something like that. Couple of notes:

There was a swarthy gentlemen who kept grabbing girls by the shoulder to get them to have drinks with him. As you can imagine, this didn't work, and he was fairly persistent.

There was a flamboyant young man who made a failed attempt to get my Mom to dance. 


Beers were only $3!!! For a club, not bad. I got ripped...

Chicago's Catch Phrase should be: Chicago-For Every Giant Fat Guy, There's The Ridiculously Hot Girl He's With! 


Just wondering, Girls when you decide to wear that skirt out, mentally do you just accept that at some point somebody is going to see your butthole?

While it was a far busier event than the usual Minch Family Vacations, the Chicago trip was pretty great. Though it was one of those vacations you need a vacation from after. You better believe we stopped at Sonic on the way home.

Switching gears, tomorrow, 7/24/12 my newest article for eatyourserial.com will run. I open with a joke about a twist in Dark Knight Rises involving two loser villains. (Sorry Calendar Man) I didn't want it to run without at least acknowledging the events in Colorado. My deepest condolences to all involved. I damn sure checked in with my Col friends to make sure they were alright (One tweeted pretty early. The other I texted.) There's a lot that can be said on many different level about what happened and what should be done, but for right now, the only appropriate thing to say is let's remember the victims: innocent people who went to see a movie.

Thanks,
Minch     

Episode 35: Fifty Shades of Minch

Due to some comically timed vacations, including the Minch Family's trek to Chicago next week, the Summer of Love is in a holding pattern. Fear not faithful readers, no news is in fact no news, I assume... So here's the first of two new summertime MvWs to keep you occupied during your shithouse breaks.

Last time I told you about how I attended "The Chocolate vs The World Blog Conference 2012, Live from Panera Bread." Remember, I got a $6 cookie, which was served on a plate. What in the hell is the point of that? It's a cookie. The cashier could have thrown it at me and it would have been a more appropriate serving style. Instead, here I am, in a public place of business with a porcelain plate that only has a cookie on it. I looked like an asshole, and that's not even counting the Hawaiian shirt I was wearing. Topeck, get on that buddy, save time and dish duty by not putting cookies on plates.

Okay, that got just a hair off topic. One of the things discussed at the conference was the idea of having a guest blogger. Bringing in someone else, who is frequently mentioned on here to give their perspective. I spent a lot of time thinking about who among my friends and family I could bring on as a guest blogger. First I ruled out the illiterate ones, that halved my selection. Then I thought about who wouldn't say anything bad about me...then I went back to looking at the illiterate ones.

I then realized that answer had been staring me in the face this entire time. There is a young lady who has been frequently mentioned on here, who deserves to have her say. For the most part she has been shrouded in mystery, by design, but by letting her come on here and speak her mind, it will give you the readers a better perspective of who she really is. Ladies and Gentlemen I am referring to...

Swerve.

  My niece dog Tia. So we brought here in to the Minch vs the World Studios to let here take a crack at blogging...

 

 Thanks Mike, it's great to be here. There are a couple of things I really wanted to talk about that have been on my mind for a while. 

1-I really don't get humans
The other day, Mike was over to let me out of my cage and raid my mom and dad's fridge--he thinks I don't notice. He let me outside and sat in the breakfast nook. I thought it would be a great day to show him the dead bird I've been playing with. This thing is a beaut. Bones, feathers, likely disease, everything a dog could want or enjoy. So I bring it over to him, rest it on the other side of the couch, and he starts freaking out!!! Not like, "Oh MY GOD YOU'RE FINALLY HOME!!!" freak out. Like, yelling and screaming. Then, and this is where I get pissed, the bastard throws it away!!! I share my dead bird with him, and he tosses it out, like it's garbage.

Don't even get me started on my parents. Dad leaves his sunglasses in what I refer to as "The Chew Zone" For future reference, "The Chew Zone" is basically anywhere within my reach. So it was well within my right to chew them, in fact it would be rude not to. When they come home, Dad's all pissed off. There is a code! Things in "The Chew Zone" get chewed!!! I'd like to tell you they beat the hell out of me for that, but my punishment was far more severe...

This is not okay...

 2)- Dear Lol Cats, and Lol Cats enthusiasts: Please cut the shit. This "I can Has Cheeseburger" nonsense is the Amos and Andy of the animal world, and you're making us all look like assholes.

3) The Arab Spring 
To me, the most interesting thing about the blossoming democracy movement in the middle east is the the emergence of social media as a means of

What The F--K is this shit? 

Okay, Minch here. This is my fault, I shouldn't let Tia guest blog, without letting my sister's dog Daisy have at least a paragraph. Floor is yours Daisy, keep the swearing to a minimum.

F--k You. Mike put me in the microwave once. I'd tell you he was drunk, but you probably already guessed that. Tia's a bitch. Daisy OUT!

Fair enough. Well that's it for this one gang. Next week, I'll be blogging live from Chicago, assuming the hotel has a business center, or someone brings their laptop. There's no way I'll be dragging the old 2002 Compaq along for the drive. Feel free to share this with your social media friends, and join the Minch Vs The World Platinum Club by following this blog on Google. My new Pop Tart runs on Eat Your Serial July 24th, and it's a doozie! 

Thanks, 

Minch 

Minch's Summer of Love: Chapter 6

Crazy, Stupid Minch

The Movie House has been a living, breathing nightmare for the past several days. All of my colleagues and myself have been working asshole hours with little to no staff. It has been the perfect storm of evil between Ted and Magic Mike. Ted is bringing in the douchebag college kids, who likely have unlicensed Family Guy posters on the wall. Magic Mike has brought in a terrifying mix of cougars, wined up house wives having "Girls Night" and couples-The guy looks like he's been sent to prison, the girl is smirking, knowing that she is finally cashing in her payback chip from the time she was dragged to go see Battleship. My only reprieve, the delightful fans of the new Tyler Perry film. I can sense you think I'm about to say something obnoxious and/or racist. You're wrong. Comparatively so, they have been a treat. One lady called me, "A Blessing." In a ten hour shift where I'll get called an asshole fourteen times, (and that's a good day) being called a blessing is the only thing that prevents me from head butting a window...

There was one particularly amusing moment this past weekend. I was standing outside of a theater playing Magic Mike waiting to take back the Closed Captioning glasses (No time to explain those, ask me in person) from a customer. As the herd of ladies poured out of the double doors, they caught a glance of me and it looked like their post movie sense of glee got dented. It was as if I served as the dark angel of reality, and what guys in their wheelhouse of existence really look like. That right ladies, I am what Single Guy Free Agency looks like. Deal with it...

You've heard me mention the blog Chocolate is My Life more that a few times here. It's writer is Alyssa, whose mom is Joy, who yelled at me until I started blogging suggested I start writing a blog. Alyssa, whose blog is wildly popular, has been quite kind in offering me advice on how to get this thing moving. It's also a suspicion of mine that she was the evil Master Mind who sent her Mom to spy on Date 1. Joy's husband Vince, I believe was just along for the beer.  As she was up from Baltimore, we decided to have "The Chocolate vs The World Crossover Blog Conference 2012, Live from Panera Bread" It was fun. I bought a $6 cookie, and a homeless man barked at me as I walked in. Here's a picture...

I have managed to get pretty deep into this Chapter without offering even the slightest bit of information about Date 3: Revenge of the Sith. After being given fair warning from both Joy and Alyssa that intended to seek out and spy on this date (again Vince would join if beer was involved) I set up a genius decoy at a local Applebees...

You laugh, but these two charged up $400 in drinks and apps

In reality, we went to a local Mini Golf/Arcade Emporium. Good God, I am not good at mini golf, but I am good at getting tickets. I hit the 800 ticket jackpot on some weird slot machine game. As I stood at one of those ticket redemption voucher machines, feeding in tickets like an overgrown eight year old, I thought, "She would be well within her right to walk out on me while I do this." Thankfully, she didn't. We collected like 2000 tickets and while we certainly could have given them to kids...The hell with that noise. We got candy, and bouncy balls, and an inflatable Spongebob, who joined us for post game drinks.

He got a touch out of hand...

He has a problem...

 Perhaps most important, is that I mentioned the existence of this here blog. (To my date, not Spongebob, jackass!) That said...

Hi! How's it going? So, here it is. I hope you like it and find it acceptable and not weird. Feel free to take a look any of the episodes/chapters I written. Don't be put off by the fact I only have 15 followers, most of my friends are far too lazy to make up Google accounts. My followers are kind of like my Platinum Club. There's a far more robust following on my Facebook Fan Page  Oh and no one is literally stalking our dates, at least the police say I don't have enough evidence to press charges...

So there you have it. Great thanks to the good folks at http://eatyourserial.com/ for promoting MvW. I have a pretty big announcement for Chapter 7. I was going to say it here, but this got kinda long. I don't want to give anything away, but it's about the Minch and Topeck Show (With Dave Rector) coming back....

Thanks,
Minch

Minch's Summer of Love: Chapter 5

The Second Date Curse

Second dates have always been something of a problem with me. For a while, the problem was that they just wouldn't happen. We'd have what I would consider a good first date, and then I would never hear from them again. I remember a couple years ago I went on a date with this red head (shut up, I have a thing) we had dinner and went to see Inception....Pretty good right? I feel like that's a solid itinerary. The next day I sent her a text asking if she had to work. To this very moment, I never found out. What's worse, this was the better part of the Second Date Curse...

The Second Date Curse took an ugly turn the last couple of years. There was this stretch where midway through the second date, the girl I was with decided she hated me. HATED MY ASS!!!

(Oh, Minch. You're over exaggerating...)

The hell I am! Here's a few stories,

I was on a second date with this girl, I don't know, let's call her....Beverly. The second date for Beverly and I consisted of dinner and a movie (Date Night, that was the least of our problems.) Dinner seemed to go perfectly fine, but I had overshot the time and we had a little extra time to wait for the movie. I don't know if was something I said, I did, or thought about doing, but Beverly shut down the moment we got into the theater. Didn't talk to me. Didn't respond when I talked to her. What made this truly nightmarish, was that we were at an independent theater so there were no cartoons, commercials, and behind the scenes movie whats-its to break the silence, only a loop of about 20 slides that we must have watched 80 times...in dead silence. There was a Simpsons episode where Marge says the line, "This date night is worse than the date night we watched Date Night." I lived that joke...

Then there was a second date last year. Let's call her Josephine. Josephine and I had our first date at a Mexican restaurant. As nice a place as it was, in retrospect, dates at Mexican restaurants are asking for trouble. The date itself went perfectly mediocre, and I kind of figured there wouldn't be a second one...meh! Then I got a text from Josephine the next day, much to my surprise. I mentioned that I was thinking about going to the East End Fest* for the first time ever that Friday. Oddly enough Josephine said she wanted to come along. So we made it our second date...

*For any of you reading this beyond the Rochester area, the East End fest is a summer time event that takes place the first Friday of June, July, and August. There's music, there's beer, and more than anything else, there's douchebags and douche-baguettes. I had never been, and wanted to at least see what the fuss was all about.

So we met up and walked in, I paid admission for both of us, as I am a sweetheart. We made our way to the beer truck when Josephine kind of scoffed and said, "I'm not going to drink tonight." That phrase alone is fair and acceptable, but it was said in the same rhythm and cadence that you would say, "Eat shit and die, you whore from Hell." What followed was roughly an hour of Josephine being a pisspot. Everything was terrible, stupid, and beneath her. After an hour, we both decided we should leave. Okay, I may have decided to actively try to annoy her on the way home by pointing out everything and saying, "Hey look, there's a ______. You like that!"

"Hey look, there's a dry cleaner. I know how you love dry cleaning. Want to stop in?" 
"Hey look, there's a used book store. I know how you love The Babysitter's Club."
"Hey look, an Arbys, want to stop in for Arby-Q's" 

Okay, perhaps not me at my most chivalrous, but I believe it was a necessary evil. So with all of this back story, I'm sure you could understand any trepidation on my part setting up my second date with the girl from Chapter 3. It was kind of spur of the moment. I had spent the entire weekend at the movie house, and what could only be described as a symptom of Stockholm Syndrome, I wanted to watch a movie. I decided to try and make it a date. There are two significant things here:

1) Second Date Curse (see above) 
2) First Ever "Home Game" - I don't bring dates to my own theater. 

I really don't have any concern bringing girls to meet my family. Fran is friendly, and my brother and sister both have significant others that can curb them from being dickholes. So it's pretty low risk. On the other hand, bringing them to the theater? That's scary. It's like taking them to meet your second family, your "Hills Have Eyes" family (depending on who's working.) Fortunately, everyone on that evening was quite acceptable,. though I did have to warn the concession employees to be on their best behavior. 

We went to go see Brave (in 3D, I pull out all the stops.) This isn't a terrible surprise for the late show of a cartoon, even a Pixar, but the theater was completely empty. Completely. Trust me, I looked around to see if Joy and Vince were somewhere in the theater spying.

Something kind of crazy happened at the end of the second date...we were still speaking to each other! Pleasantly, no less! And talking about going out again! In one shot, I knocked two monkeys off of my back. For those of you wondering, the movie is quite good. 

Curse Broken...FOR NOW!!!                

Chapter 6 is going to show up quicker than you imagine. It's like one of those movies where they film two back to back, but not terrible like The Matrix sequels. Thanks for all of the support and your continued reading. Feel free to share this, or any of your favorite MVW's on TwitterBook or Insta-Face by clicking the links below.

Thanks,
Minch 

Minch's Summer of Love: Chapter 4

Game Time (I forgot these thematic title cards last chapter, dammit!) 

7:52PM- Why the hell do I always end up showing up to these things so early? What the hell am I supposed to do for the few minutes, sit in my car and be nervous?

7:58 PM- I walked into Starbucks, I went right past the line and picked a seat with an optimal sight line to the door, so I could see when she walked in.

8:00 PM- Okay, here we go. Any second now...

8:07 PM- ...the Hell? Why isn't she here yet? I hope none of these hipsters have noticed I'm sitting here coffee-less and alone. Nah, they're too busy listening to Tom Waits and bitching about how "Invader Zim" sold out.

8:15 PM- I'm going to text her. [Hey Where Ar---INCOMING TEXT] 'Hey where am I' she asks? I'm at the God Damn Starbucks in Greece just like we agreed. Oh no...

8:17 PM- I realized I was at the wrong damn Starbucks...

Three years and some change later I sat towards the front of the bar reliving that nightmare and at about 8:02 PM the thought crossed my mind. Maybe I was at the wrong bar...again! Before I could give this any legitimate thought, my date arrived. We sat at a table and started going over the familiar talking points we had discussed in our back and forth messaging. I remembered she mentioned she didn't like beer, so I had assumed she'd be getting some frozen fruity bullshit drink. The type that had half a pineapple on the rim of the glass. Her order of a Jack and Coke was a pleasant surprise.

Beyond the realm of drink orders, I'm not going to get into specifics of the date. Just know the conversation was flowing well, jokes were hitting, and then I had a surprise cameo.

Joy, the lady who bullied me into suggested I start a blog and her husband Vince were seated in the booth directly behind my date. While this honestly wasn't a big deal, I was trying to remember if I had told her where Date Night was taking place. I even floated the theory this was all a nefarious plot to filter play by play to her daughter/loyal fan Alyssa (Happy Birthday, btw!!!) Honestly I had bigger fish to fry as I had just accidentally sling shot a few drops of my drink onto my date because I was fiddling with my straw...I am an asshole.

My overall grade for the date you ask?

Larry's face isn't selling this well, but I mean this positively.

Date Night 2: Revenge of the Fallen has been discussed but isn't yet on the books. Which is good, because I have a weird history with second dates. The last 3 or 4 second dates have resulted in my date deciding she hates my ass, and stops talking to me midway through. But those stories are for Chapter 5

The Problem With Putting Your Shit On Blast

The sheer volume of questions about my date that I got the following day was unnerving. Mostly because this is the complete opposite of how I used to play this sort of thing. I used to have this weird hang up about online dating, and if I even admitted I was going on a date, I'd lie and say it was a friend of my friend Callie. Now I'm in this bizzaro world where movie house staff ask me how things went (then I politely respond with, none of your God Damn business.) People who I would have never imagined reading this thing are starting to take a look at it.

That said, if this is your first time around, read this classic MvW, Vanek at the Disco

The reason why I've been so secretive in the past is the potential for failure. If I go on a date, tell no one, and it goes hideously, then it's just between me and Jameson Irish Whiskey. With this master plan, it's all out there for the world to see, warts and all. That has been something of an adjustment for me, but honestly, the only way I was going make progress was to drag myself, kicking and screaming.

Hey did you read my latest Pop Tart for Eat Your Serial? No? You son of a B... Well, you should. It came out on Father's Day and it's a look at some great TV dads. Also I think I uncovered the dark truth about Danny Tanner.

 Here's the Link! Give it a read!!!   

Thanks to everyone for continued support. Feel free to share this, or any of your favorite MvW's with your social medialites. The links are below. More News as it comes in.

Thanks,
Minch      

Put Me In Coach 2012

Long before I was bullied into starting a blog, I used to write notes on Facebook. This is the one I wrote last year around this time. Since the message is still the same, as are my thoughts and feelings on the subject, I want to give it the full blog treatment. I could probably start a whole new piece about how as a kid, I used to be bored to tears when Dad was driving and his music was on the radio. Now, ironically enough if any of his bands (Boston, Journey, REO Speedwagon, Aerosmith) come on the radio, I’m jamming and head bobbing like the Roxbury guys on bath salts. That’s for another time. For now, please enjoy “Put Me In Coach.”

 

Even though I look like an idiot, Dennis looks like the Devil, and my uncle looks like he's about to say something inappropriate, still one of my favorite pictures.

 Happy Father's Day
-Minch 

I have known that this would be the topic of my second entry for a while, but I have spent a great deal of time mulling over how I wanted to approach this. Bringing up my old man is still a sensitive subject for some, and I cannot stress enough that I don’t do so looking to elicit any type of sympathy or to evoke sadness. Rather, I’d like to take a moment, as Father’s Day approaches to introduce many of you, to a man you never had the pleasure of meeting…

My father could care less about movies. He’d wearily dose off while any sitcom was on. He didn’t read books, nor did he smoke or drink (As a man who worked for a liquor distributor, he wasn’t against it, it just wasn’t for him.) My Dad did two things, busted his ass daily at two strenuous jobs, both involving a great deal of heavy lifting and late nights, and enjoyed every aspect and element of sports.

Baseball, Hockey, Football, you name it! Every passing season had some sport attached to it. For baseball, my father was just a fan of the sport. He liked the Orioles because of their affiliation to the Rochester Red Wings. He liked the Blue Jays because of their proximity to us. My mom recently told me that he never liked the Yankees. No disrespect to my friends who are fans, but I cannot tell you how much this meant to me.  For both hockey and football, obviously, Lets Go Buffalo. I watched my father suffer through the on going tragedy that was 90’s for Buffalo sports.

As a dumb ass little kid, I really wasn’t much for sports. My mom will gleefully tell you about how during my ill fated little league days, I would come off the field between innings ask her to make a pit stop at the 40 and 1 Youth baseball concession stand. I was more interested in movies, TV, and for a thankfully short time Star Trek (I have LONG since washed my hands of that phase, replacing it with alcohol and girls). So in terms of interests, the old man and I didn’t have a ton of things to connect on.

When he passed in late ’99, the sheer reaction by the public helped me understand what he meant to everyone, a pillar of strength, heart, and a beacon of what someone should aspire to be, but even then I was still a teenage dumb ass. I think everyone has a moment in their lives when they finally GET their parents. Where the proverbial light bulb goes off and you realize, “Oh, that’s what you trying to do…thanks” Unfortunately, he wasn’t around when I had that moment…but the story doesn’t end there.

There came a point, seemingly out of nowhere, a long dormant strain in my DNA suddenly activated. I wasn’t just watching Red Sox games because I didn’t want to fight with Dennis over the remote, but because I wanted to. An interest in baseball, hockey, and football emerged from within, as if it had been my destiny all along. Christ, I have a Red Sox tattoo!!! Every once and a while, more often than not I think about him as I’m watching a Reds/Cubs on WGN for the hell of it, knowing that 15 years ago it would have been torture for me. And don’t even get me started on the Sabres, I tie my love of that team directly to him, and I can promise you this, WHEN they win the cup, I will be a mess, and I’ll be thinking of him. There’s no doubt about it, I am my father’s son.

So Happy Father’s Day. I hope for those of you in my age bracket, you’ve already had your, “Oh I Get it.” moment. For you youngsters out there, don’t worry, you will.
 

Minch's Summer of Love: Chapter 3

I begin with the unofficial/official theme song for "Minch's Summer of Love" as performed on "The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson"

Okay, that out of the way, I have a date Wednesday. I probably should back up shouldn't I? Okay, I'll start again...

April 6th 1983: Lightning struck the open mouth of hell and I arrived on this planet. What, too far? Fine, let's fast forward to this past Tuesday.

Tuesday is schedule day at the movie house. It is a day I approach with a joint feeling of optimism and apprehension. The fate of the weekend rests on this moment. The bossman and I have had a silent agreement for ages. I close Friday nights and have Saturday night off. Frankly, only one weekend night off keeps me honest. This schedule was different, in a most sinister way. I was closing BOTH Friday and Saturday. The truce has been broken! Ready the soldiers! WE MARCH AT DAWN!!!

Needless to say I was a touch miffed by this. Among the great many reasons why, it would give me no chance to further my Summer of Love endeavor---By that, I likely mean go to Paddy's, get discouraged, and drink a boot full of whiskey. Hey, my weekend is my weekend!

So I trudged through my two weekend killing shifts, armed with nothing but my hair trigger temper. Then, something weird happened. Around 4AM, I was woken up by the familiar sound of my Droid's battle cry.

"Okay, who's drunk/in jail?"

It was nothing like that. It was a message from someone on the dating site. It was funny, well written, and far more complimentary than I deserve. One problem, there was no photo... Why wouldn't someone have a photo? She must look like Gargamel. Oh no, am I that shallow? I mean, this was a really nice message. I should at least talk to whoever wrot...

Oh wait, never mind everybody! I didn't "enable links and pics" on my Gmail. Sorry, there's a pic here. Give me a break, it was 4AM. She doesn't look like Gargamel...

Thank God

Throughout the course of the next day, we had a really great conversation. While I solemnly vow to protect the privacy of others on here, while completely disregarding my own, I will drop in that she works as a place where I have often shown up dressed like a homeless person...

Paddy's? (No.)
A Strip Club? (No, of course not jackass)
FuddRuckers? (You're not even trying, and I'm not telling)

Basically, the list of places I feel comfortable going to in slippers just decreased by one.

 I've found the trickiest part of talking to someone on a dating site, is making the transition from online conversation to actual date. It's pretty much an "All in" move. Move to quickly, she assumes you're a murderer. Wait too long, she loses interest and likely ends up with Meatball the Lunkhead (my favorite Christmas Carol btw). Within the span of a day, I pushed in my chips...

...and I have a date on Wednesday.

By no means is it time to hang the Mission Accomplished banner. In fact, we're not even at the point where you should be looking up banner stores. Though it's a step in the right direction. Hey can you guys help me with something? I can't decide which shirt to make my date shirt. Have a look and feel free to share your thoughts on which one you like best...

 
Nice little suspenseful cliffhanger we have here, eh? Before you get Chapter 4, there will a special thing on Friday AND my brand new POP TART over at Eat Your Serial on Sunday!!!! I'll warn you, it's about TV dads and Danny Tanner is involved. Neat huh? As always feel free to share this or any MvW with your Facebook friends and Twitter folk. Thanks!

Minch