Saturday, August 22, 2009


Apparently the entrance onto I-696 from Woodward is closed today, which is quite frustrating because it is the primary way that my family was planning on getting to the wedding. There are alternatives I'm sure, but the very annoying thing is that it is not possible to know which alternatives (like Southfield to 696) are going to be available for travel and which will also be closed down. The dumbest thing is that the freeway is open westbound at Woodward, so it makes no sense why they would close down the entrance ramp. Maybe we'll have less people - or more late people - than we thought at the ceremony. At the moment everything else seems to be running fine, but what would a wedding day be without a hiccup.

Friday, August 21, 2009

The Day Before the Day

Today is the day of my wedding rehearsal, which means that tomorrow is the actual day of the wedding. Maureen and I are pretty OK with whatever weather the sky throws at us, though we are hoping it will be more nice than less nice. That's a bold statement.

I've spent the last ten days regularly bouncing back and forth between and and selectively picking the weather forecast that I prefer. At this point, they both seem to have converged on there being a slightly less than 50% chance of rain at the moment we will be exchanging our vows, so it will be very interesting to figure out if the ceremony is indoors (I <3 Boobs for the SNL Celebrity Jeopardy! lovers out there) or outdoors. Whatever happens is going to happen either way, so focusing too much on it takes my attention away from other, far more important, things.

Most importantly, this is my note to you, friends and people who aren't going to be married to me tomorrow, informing you that my writing over the next 1.5 weeks is going to be severely limited. One of the reasons is that I will be having a wedding rehearsal, wedding, wedding brunch, and honeymoon - in that order - and this will be occupying a fair amount of my time and energy. The second reason is that I really feel as though I have peaked with being in the same building as Jerome Bettis, so I need just a little over a week to gather my thoughts and figure out where to go after such an event. Nothing I can say will be more important or valuable than this event (excluding the wedding, of course).

So there you go - as much as I love writing this blog, I love Maureen far more, and pretty much everyone has told me that if I plan on still being married after the honeymoon, I probably shouldn't use my time during that period for laptop-related events like working and writing. On the upside to you, maybe my future life will provide me the opportunity to reflect on things I've learned about being married ("What's the deal with female underwear" and "Don't you hate it when hit your mate when you have night terrors").

As always, thank you for your patience and general devotion to me and Michigan during this brief downtime. I'm going to try to maybe convince Steve to carry the mantle for a few days with an update here or there, but I have not been successful in this effort before. Maybe he can make it a wedding gift to me (and of course to you). Then I will have a writing staff of two and I will have grown 100% in just over one year. That is a really fantastic growth ratio. Look for me to be listed on the NYSE next year.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Official Fame Magnet

Alright world, this is getting ridiculous. I don't think you can make it any more clear - famous people like to be near me and spend some amount of time in my presence. I don't need you to send me any more subtle messages. TMZ is considering opening up a bureau right here in Royal Oak because of all of the famous people that just "happen" to find themselves near me.

Saturday night was the bachelor party, which I wrote a tiny bit about in my last post. This isn't about that, but here are the best two quotes of the night:

"Those aren't the free kind of girls" - Dave G.
"What happens at a bachelor party stays at a bachelor party...except herpes" - Steve

Congratulations for those fine lines, gentlemen. After a night of hanging out in downtown Detroit (where I seriously felt completely safe roving around the downtown streets), the bunch of us made our way to Lafayette Coney (seriously Firefox, you don't take coney?) Island. I wasn't hungry from the gigantic dinner from earlier in the evening and all of the free (to me) OH molecules that were provided to me that night, but most of the guys were in the mood for some late-night dining. We took our seats at the long center table down the middle of Lafayette, and for some reason started talking about famous people. Dave said "you mean like Jerome Bettis, who is buying some food right now?" Needless to say, I was a little confused. It was 2:15 in the morning and we were sitting in a Coney Island in downtown Detroit. As it turns out, Jerome Bettis was, in fact, buying some food from Lafayette with a small posse of approximately two individuals. Jerome-freaking-Bettis. By the time my brain figured out what was going on, Jerome was making his way to his car. Steve and I got up and tried to make it over to him to say hi, but we started a little too late and he was on his way.

What no one else saw, though, was the secret smile that Jerome shot me and his implicit recognition of all the hard work I put into the blog. Mr. Bettis, you have, just barely, supplanted Justin Verlander as my most famous best friend. You're a Detroit guy who has always supported the city, now if you could just buy me a coney that would be even better. I mean, you won a Super Bowl. Spread the hot dog love.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Well, That Was Fun

I never really understood the phrase "show a person a good time" until tonight, the fine evening/morning of my bachelor party. In no particular order aside from who I remember in order, I would like to thank the following people for a truly great and enjoyable evening that I will certainly always remember: Steve, Craig, Dave, Brian, Nick, Brad, Scott, Andy, Me, a cameo by my dad, and of course, the inventors of fun. I'm getting married next Saturday to the most wonderful person I can imagine, and this group of individuals took me out on the town today in celebration of this big event in my life. Bachelor parties always seemed like archaic and pointless events to me, but my opinion completely changed tonight. They don't have to be a celebration of an end, or a beginning, but just a celebration of being - friends who are happy for you and care for you and want you to know they care in their own way. I am thankful for this group of people and I look forward to hopefully providing the same service for others in the future. Thanks again guys - you gave me a better time than I deserve.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

On Blueberries

Blueberries are one of the finest treats in the land, and Michigan produces some mighty fine blueberries. They are generally available in bulk only during the summer, and on special occasion you can swing into a Meijer and pick up a 400 lb. case for a shade under $2, but the rest of the year you're paying about $1 per blueberry. That cost really begins to stack up and my blueberry budget is probably my single biggest berry-related expenditure over the course of any given year. Blueberries are the closest thing to a true guilt-free dessert. They're as sweet as candy and as sensual as Mandy Moore singing Candy. You can put them into cobblers and pies and rhubarbs and salads and pierogi (not recognized as a word by Firefox. Screw you Firefox for ignoring my Polish heritage) and when birds eat them, they're pooping blue all over my car. It's still gross, but I prefer blue poop to white poop.

However, is there any more natural food item in the world that is more hit-or-miss than blueberries? Sometimes I can not figure out what is their deal. Big ones are most often my favorite, but sometimes an entire batch of big ones is just bitter and they taste off. Little ones are less juicy and sometimes kind of hard, but even with these characteristics my enjoyment of them can sometimes exceed the bigger blueberries. Even the discolored runts can sometimes be fantastic, but most of the time they are terrible, so I'm forced to eat the terrible ones in the hope that I find a diamond in the rough, much like Aladdin of Agrabah. Produce is a fickle friend and I can accept that, but blueberries are very deceptive. I think blueberries and avocados made a pact many moons ago to confuse and frustrate the buying public. Typically one can look at an apple or orange or banana or whatever and they have a very good chance of being able to discern whether or not the fruit is worthy of consumption. Not so with the blueberry. I like to judge a book by its cover and a fruit by its ability to read a book, and blueberries fail both of these tests. But I'll still eat them.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Who's a Big Boy

For your massive enjoyment, here's a brief video of baby Louis in the very early days of his ability to crawl. Before you know it, he'll be thinking of me as "that creepy uncle who watches too much TV." As you can see from the video, Louis is clearly uncertain about the existence of the floor, or perhaps its ability to maintain his weight. Everyone thinks that I'm just being weird when I crawl around on the floor.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

A Disturbing Trend

Life is incredibly busy these days, and I will most definitely hit on this period of busy at a future point. There are more than a few life changes taking place. You don't care.

I often cart many things around in my car. Family, friends, furniture, my big huge book of CDs that is incredibly obsolete, various pieces of paper that I have neglected to throw away, emergency blankets in my trunk, samurai swords, and pens. Every once in awhile, I am in a position where I need to transport a pet. I like having the dogs in the car. They make for good buddies and only every so often do they complain about my selection of in-car entertainment. Sometimes I get dog boogers all over my windows, but that is part of the small price to pay for pet ownership. Recently, though, I've noticed more and more of something that makes me quite uncomfortable out on the road with people and their pets in the car. These morons have their pets on their laps. On their laps while their driving with the dog heads out of the driver-side window.

This is a recipe for disaster, and is also incredibly weird. Can you not separate yourself from your dog for the brief period of a car ride? If you're a dude, aren't you afraid that the dog is going to step into your crotch, thereby rendering your ability to break, gas, and steer futile. If you're not dude, aren't you afraid of the exact same thing? My dogs are my buddies and I love them immensely, but I also know that they are dogs and in this capacity, they lack a certain control over their...brains. Whose to say what would happen in the instance that the pets see a squirrel, a bird, or another idiot driving with his dog on his lap and start pawing around in the reproductive area? Now the guy who I often see driving around with his golden retriever in the passenger seat wearing sunglasses - that guy and his dog are just awesome and always make me smile, but this literal lap dog while driving thing is not kosher.

I don't have much to add beyond this obvious thought, but I imagine the people driving in this situation are the same kind of people who love Paul Blart.

Friday, August 7, 2009

Boo, Get Off the Stage

People say (not me because I'm an enlightened man) that women make for less hilarious stand-up comedians. There are many notable exceptions, including the likes of Sarah Silverman, Joan Rivers, Roseanne, and so on, but the opinion definitely exists about women just not being as good at being professional comedians. It is important that we all stand up for the inherent sense of humor that many women have - that is, until you read a headline like this "Big Ten? More like Big Dud" from today's edition of The Detroit News by author Angelique S. Chengelis. Oh man, talk about setting your gender back about twenty years.

It may just be that my sense of humor is so much more advanced and honed than yours (yesterday during the Tiger's game against the Orioles, I thought the Orioles had a guy on their team and his last name was WeiNer. It turns out it was WeiTer, which is far less funny) and therefore I am more critical about things I find to be unfunny, but I haven't been able to stop thinking all day about what a terrible article name. Do you remember the first person someone "PSYCHED" you? I do. It was in fourth grade and a kid named Tim G. was like "Hey Ken, would you like 5 dollars?" and I said "yeah" and he said "PSYCHE" to which I replied "Yeah! where's my five dollars?" The article goes on to talk about how the Big Ten probably isn't as competitive as Midwesterners would like to think and that teams around the country are looking down on our little division of ten+1 teams, but it is impossible to focus on the subject matter with that title floating around in my mind.

"Good Weather? More like good Rainstorms"
"McCain wins! NOT!!!"

Ehhhh...I really love both of my Detroit newspapers even if one sucks way more than the other, but next time, I plead that someone stand up and make the difficult decision - that being to tar and feather the person who came up with this headline. We demand better, and we deserve better.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Greatness Finds Me

As you are certainly aware, last year I made best friends with Jimmy Fallon when I met and talked to him for a total of 1.5 seconds on the mean street of Ann Arbor. That's just the tip of my famous friend iceberg, where last year I said hi to Aaron Barrett from Reel Big Fish outside his tour bus and a few years ago, I saw the lead singer of MxPx leaning on his tour bus but I was far too chicken to say hello. Many, many years ago I met professional wrestler Diamond Dallas Page in a sports bar and took a picture with him. Finally, the band Everclear came to hang out in the Brown Jug after a show in Ann Arbor and, you guessed it, I made best friends with them, too. That's just the kind of guy I am.

Today I was cruising south on Woodward through Royal Oak and a very shiny, customized, black Porsche Carrera was revving its way down the road to my left, and I thought to myself "that is a shiny nice black car." Then I took a quick glance at the driver and thought to myself "that's a young guy driving a car that nice", then "hey, that guy looks suspiciously like Justin Verlander," and then finally "That guy is Justin Verlander." That's right, a new famous best friend for Ken.

But really, what does Justin Verlander have that I don't besides a 100 mph fastball, millions of dollars, a no-hitter, a Porsche Carrera, and the ability to grow facial hair? That's exactly what he has that I don't - a 100 mph fastball, millions of dollars, a no-hitter, a Porsche Carrera, and the ability to grow facial hair. I tried to make eye contact with him and indicate that I had a sore shoulder to symbolize that I creepily knew who he was, but alas, no successful eye contact. At that point, I hit him with a baseball bat, kidnapped him in my trunk, tied him to my childhood desk, and played him a song on the piano. There was a small degree of upsetness, but that's just a product of our "Celebrities First" culture. Justin Verlander, simply because you're famous doesn't mean that you're any more special than the other people locked in my room.

Monday, August 3, 2009


My family is crazy (in a wonderful way). We spent last week on vacation, and a typical family vacation includes a 6 mile walk, an hour of tennis, a couple hours sailing, a quarter mile walk to and from each meal, and various other physical activities. Today marks my vacation from vacation where I finally have the opportunity to get some dang rest!

So I am back and better than ever, and by better than ever I mean that I have a top 10 sock tan line. Fortunately for the wedding, there is no need for the man to show off any ankle, otherwise I would have to recommend that everyone wear sunglasses for their own safety and protection. I'm glad to be back and I'm looking forward to writing.