Wednesday the 13th is the new Friday the 13th

This is my friend Steve:

He was born on October the 13th, and chances are that he's done way more cool shit than you.

The first time I met Steve he was wearing a breakdancing Fat Bald Men t-shirt, a brown UPS hat, and he had a pony tail. True story. Steve worked for my dad at my family's store in Ithaca, NY. About 10 years later Steve would be helping my dad and some friends and I move a piano into my house and, while carrying a too heavy thing down too many stairs, confess to my father that many of the hours he spent "working" for my dad were actually comprised of talking shit with my cousin and sneaking Strawberry Quick in the beer cooler.

Steve and I share stories of misadventure that span the country a few times over and could easily fill a lengthy novel. We've disagreed as many times as we've come to one another's rescue, and we've shown up with as much unconditional love and compassion as we've been cranky, bratty and mean to each other.

I have learned through Steve Crandall the true meaning of friendship, and am grateful and glad every single day for his presence in my life.

In honor of Steve - because I'm totally glad he was born, and because I can't be there to make him chocolate cake in person, I'm sharing with the world a list that I shared with him a little while back.

Ten important things I learned from Steve Crandall

10) Cops, meter maids, and tow truck drivers should not be trusted.

9) Almost anything is possible, or at least worth a shot, if it turns out to be impossible move on to the next thing.

8) Gnomes love to loiter.
7) When you're about to fight, hand someone you know your glasses and your wallet.
6) Life's a beach.
5) Occasionally it's important to take the local roads instead of the highway.

4) , 5, 6 wins. Always.

3) Strawberry Quick is awesome, but if you drink too much of it your stomach will hurt.

2) If you go streaking wearing only a cape and a mask you will get arrested.

1) Have fun every day.

Steve is someone that I admire and respect, someone who's life and advice I consider when making major decisions in my own. If you would have told me in 1993 that I would be learning some of the most important lessons of my life from the dude with a ponytail sneaking Strawberry Quick in the cooler, I never would have believed you. I guess that's just how life goes.

Love you Steve. Happy Birthday, and thanks for all of the good times!

From The Ladle To The Grave

I woke up two days ago with a headache. Since I never get headaches I probably should've known something was up, instead I chalked it up to the weather, not enough caffeine, and a possible nanobot infestation. I woke yesterday to a sore throat which I thought could possibly be a result of having slept with my mouth open. Today there's no denying it. A horrible ick is trying to latch on somewhere between my sinuses and tonsils, making my life slightly less pleasant and making my head feel like it's floating ten feet above my body at about twice it's usual size.

I'm fortunate to have a job that I can leave for my bed on days like this. My office-mates are glad to minimize the risk of an outbreak, and I'm glad to have the loving and extra supportive "get outta here, I don't want to get sick" nudge. Besides, I can type from home. Clearly.

I'm also fortunate to be part of a gang. This gang has armed me with the weaponry necessary to produce things like this even though my head feels like it might actually explode:

Ingredients: 3 small onions, 2 stalks celery, 3 cloves garlic, 2 potatoes, 2 large carrots, 1 bunch kale, 6 oz sausage, 16oz great northern beans, stock (I used some vegetable and some chicken as it was what I had on hand), thyme, oregano, turmeric, dill, salt, pepper, parsley. Assemble in usual soup making fashion.

Below is a picture that I came across today of my good friend Steve. 

Steve is a fellow Soup Gang founding member. Nothing says tough like little cheddar goldfish.