While I'm trying to come up with some clever writing, take a look at this gem from the family album.

It's my Uncle Roland doing a Frank Sinatra impression.

Dear U-Save Corporation:

Your grocery store up the street from my house is crowded and too noisy, and is filled with unpleasant odors. Seriously - the last time I went there, I changed check-out lanes to avoid one smell, and discovered that the person in front of me in the new lane smelled just as bad. Only a desperate need for soda pop will drive me to your place of business.

Dear Kobe Bryant:

I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that Nutella was indeed your "favorite spread" BEFORE they paid you for your endorsement. Come on, you know what lies do - they make Baby Jesus cry!

Dear Jay-Walker (not to be confused with "Dyn-O-Mite!" J.J. Walker):

Dear Road-Side Gray Market Sneaker Vendor:

Those shoes are ugly. I hope no one buys them.

For months now, the reviewer's friend, Lisa, as well as the reviewer's spouse, have been raving about the joys of Vanilla Coke. Now, as Diet Vanilla Coke has hit the streets, we'll see if the calorie-free version lives up to its corn syrup-sweetened cousin. Truly, Diet Cherry Coke and Diet Lemon-Flavored Coke fail to satisfy the taste buds. The cherry flavor is tepid at best, while the lemon flavor is quite artificial in nature.* Hardly fitting accompaniments for the classic, slightly harsh yet somehow divine taste sensation that is Diet Coke. Would the newest offering flop as badly as the first two?

As it turns out, no. Diet Vanilla Coke has a pleasant, soft and sensual aroma. It has an almost floral, sweet vanilla top-note that floats above the base Diet Coke flavor, blending perfectly to create a mellow, warm, semisweet flavor. The palate is left with a nutty yet clean aftertaste. An excellent aperitif, this would also make a great accompaniment to desserts. Looks like the third time's the charm for Coca-Cola's latest diet beverage.**

*Tastes like someone sprayed Lemon-Fresh Pledge in your Diet Coke.

**You know what it reminds me of? When McDonalds was selling Coke floats, I used to get Diet Coke floats; this drink tastes like that concoction. Yum!

Is this not the most horrifying Christma$ card in recent history? The inside message reads,"Here's wishing you a toasty warm holiday". It ought to read, "Here's hoping you're all smiles as you endure a long, slow death!"

Soundtrack: "Come Undone", Duran Duran

I just noticed that there's a very tiny, very flat frog on one of the steps leading up to the second floor here.

It's the little things. For instance, why did I remember to bring my Jimi Hendrix cd, but forget to take my blue pills AND forget to bring more white pills this morning? Why do I remember the first time I saw Sev (circa 1992, at an SCA meeting, he was wearing a stylish gray hat and standing in the doorway of the USF classroom where the meeting was being held)? I didn't even speak to him...that was in my past life, when I was married to someone with agoraphobia (fear of rabbits with very soft fur). Yet I didn't remember giving Lisa some artwork which she used for the local SCA chapter's newsletter (also circa 1992), until, years later, I took over the office of chronicler and discovered it in the archives?

I don't remember being introduced to Jeff, but I do remember the first time I noticed him. A group of people were hanging out at Sev and Lisa's. He did a spot-impression of Mr. Burns from The Simpsons. He said, "Silverstar, eh? I'll remember that name!"

And when I first encountered Sid, she was literally hopping up and down and clapping her hands with unrestrained glee, planning Lisa's elevation party (more SCA stuff, all you need to know if you're not in the SCA is that being elevated is a big deal so it was going to have to be a way-cool party).

I wonder if I should drive home for lunch and take the blue pills...

This just in:Uncle Chuckie has returned. He is absolved of all his Chuck-a-Palooza antics, he brought me a bunch of Cleveland Browns stuff! He says my graphics were "the hit" of his IEEE workgroup meeting.

Note: If you are here searching for information on Chris Thomas, please go here to read my commentary on him and his unfortunate passing.

Part 1: Meet the Press

No, it wasn't hunky Tim Russert that we met when we met the press. Rather, the Fourth Estate was represented by an enthusiastic young woman when we all arrived at Sev and Lisa's house one Tuesday night.

Let me backtrack a bit. A few weeks ago, Lisa was contacted by the kingdom seneschal (that's the president of the SCA here in Florida). A reporter from the Pulitzer Prize-winning St. Petersburg Times was interested in doing a story on the local chapter. She was especially interested in talking to the artisans of the group, so the seneschal pointed the reporter in Lisa's direction, as she is the kingdom's arts officer. After going back and forth with the young lady, several of us agreed to meet one night, in costume, and with our various art projects.

I was immediately suspicious when the reporter's tools of the trade consisted of an old-fashioned, steno pad-sized notebook and pen. You see, I minored in journalism, so I know a thing or two about reporting. I know how hard it is to get all the facts down when you're talking to one person, let alone seven garrulous people. But I temporarilly forgot my suspicions when the photographer arrived. I also happen to be into photography, and, having spent some time behind a 35mm, I was dazzled by the set of two Nikon fully digital SLRs."Ooh, Nikon! Jeff, look at the Nikons!" I babbled. The Pulitzer Prize-winning St. Petersburg Times spares no expense when it comes to their photographers' tools. (Mmmmm...Nikon...)The photographer had us stand in their front yard. As the sun had set by this time, she got the idea to use a couple of our cars' headlights as additional lighting. We spent the next hour standing, smiling, and posing. I kept thinking of Austin Powers in his second movie, where he was photographing the models: "You're a jungle cat...grr...You're a lemur...you're running...".

(I fretted a bit about our car's battery. But it was fine.) They didn't run the photo on the on-line piece, as you may have noticed. Sev is the only recognizable one in the picture, pretty much. With his chain mail coif, he looks a bit like Brian Blessed in Branaugh's Henry V.

So, after the photography session, we retired to Casa Pompeo, where we gathered in the Sinister Board Room. We had set up various art projects each of us had done, paintings, calligraphy and illumination, research pieces, etc. The reporter asked a lot of questions, scratching down notes in her little notepad. I felt very inarticulate, I think my earlier suspicions had returned. She had asked me about my gown: Where did I get the fabric? (E-Bay.) What kind of fabric was it? (Home dec/upholstery fabric.) How long did it take to make the outfit? (Two months, but I worked on it pretty intensely.) What inspired you? (The fabric spoke to me; it told me to make a dress in the style of the "Phoenix Portrait" Of Elizabeth I.)

Sid was her usual, articulate self, as were Sev and Lisa. Jeff gave his input too. Then came the question: "So, how many of you were into D&D when you were younger?" Dead silence. Sid offered, "I dated some D&D'ers." Rick (Yoan) raised a tentative hand. "When I was younger," said Sev. Lisa explained that our club really doesn't have much to do with that sort of thing. Not that there's anything WRONG with D&D. Shortly after, the reporter left, telling us that the story might run Sunday, but more likely would be in later that week.We all had some wine to relax. Someone joked that we would likely read in the story, "The group would neither confirm nor deny any involvement with D&D."

So later that week turned into "sometime between now and November 4." Lisa called me this morning to tell me that the story had finally hit. She sounded disappointed. "What's wrong?" "Well, she didn't use any of your quotes, or Jeff's. She ran what Yoan said about beating people up and taking their beer." (I remember hearing him say that, and thinking, 'D'oh!') "She also talked to Karl, and made him sound stupid by saying he refers to himself as 'the Baron', and some merchant guy, I have no idea who he is. And she said Sev had been in the SCA 14 years, when he's been in for 20. And the only person you can recognize in the photo is Sev." (Karl IS the Baron, if you're not in the SCA it's hard to explain.) I went out and bought one copy of the paper; I should have bought an extra copy for Mom, when I went back to get another they were sold out. Oh well, there's always photocopying.

Part Two:Jay and Silent Bob Strike Guavaween, Or, Sev's Fifteen Minutes Continues

Every year, the boys like to celebrate Guavaween - the Mardi Gras-like celebration in Tampa's Ybor City - by impersonating the Kevin Smith characters Jay and Silent Bob. This calls for Jeff to shave his pointy beard. This whole ritual, while enjoyable to witness on one level, causes a bit of anxiety on another. Why?

1. The shaving. Jeff looks very different, that is, a lot younger, when he shaves. So that's weird. Plus, in my past life, I was married to a guy who, whenever he GREW a moustache, it seemed that his personality would change. So, to me, (even though I am in a new incarnation with a new man) change in man's facial hair = bad.

2. Remember the guy in my past life from #1? Well, he had a bit of a drinking problem. When HE would go to Guavaween (or to a party, or to a friend's house, or to work, etc.) he would get really polluted. So, to me, (even though I am in a new incarnation with a new man) Guavaween = mean drunk.

3. I don't know if you are familiar with the characters Jay and Silent Bob, but Jay, the character Jeff portrays, is a loud, rude, foul mouthed yet vaguely likeable lad. This is totally out of character for Jeff, who is quiet, well-spoken, smart, and very likeable. (Interestingly enough, Sev, who plays Silent Bob, is certainly not known for keeping quiet.) So, if you add up all the factoids I've just provided, you can see why my husband shaving and going to Guavaween as a totally different persona might just wig me out. Since this is the third year they've done this, I'm finally getting over (most of) my trauma. Lisa and I considered going, but decided dealing with the drunks wouldn't be too fun. So we stayed at home and made jewelry with Sid.

Meanwhile, the boys had a busy evening planned. Before they would change into Jay and Silent Bob, they were going to get together with Karl (remember the Baron?) and pal Brian. The four of them were going to sit in the window of a coffee shop in Ybor City and recreate the famous painting of the dogs playing poker. That's right, they each donned a dog mask and they sat there and played poker, while the costumed partyers walked by.

Sev called to let us know that a news crew had filmed them, they were going to be on the 11 o'clock news! It was a great piece that appeared on News Channel 8 (which I used to watch regularly until they fired my favorite sportscaster, Chris Thomas ). Brian, Karl, and Sev each were shown in their dog masks, they each got a sound bite. (Jeff hadn't arrived on the scene when the camera crew was there.) It was very cool, Severin got to say that by sitting there and playing poker they were avoiding "drunken knuckleheads". They showed people stopping and taking pictures of the tableau. One lady exclaimed, "Oh look! Dogs playing poker, that's so cute!" So, if you combine his appearance on the TV news with the picture and story in the Pulitzer Prize-winning St. Petersburg Times, could this be the beginning of Sev's fifteen minutes? You know, some people think he's a controlling force within the SCA, now they are going to suspect that Sev controls the media as well.

Part 3: Oktoberfest...aka Carbohydrate-o-Rama

Yeah, I know, in Germany Oktoberfest happens in September. But this is America, dammit, if we want two months of beer and brats, we're going to have it! There is a German restaurant nearby that Jeff, Sid and I enjoy. The culinary experience is not appreciated by Lisa and Sev. (They don't even like the militant accordian player, Inga!) Sid says that the German palette of flavors is diametrically opposed to the Italian one. Still, it makes me a little sad that two of my best friends don't enjoy the food of my German ancestry. Really, Oktoberfest at Der Schnitzelhaus is a cultural flashback of sorts for me. The beer, the polka music, the strident Inga ordering you to clap your hands or to lift your mug... Except Chef Mike is a much better cook than my Ohioan grandmother. Even his sauerkraut is good. (He usually makes a bad joke about a crabby German being a "sour Kraut".) Jeff, and I, joined by Sid, Ken and J.R., took in the last weekend of Oktoberfest before the boys went to Guavaween for the evening. I think I'm still full.

A sign reading "Coming* Soon: Pleasures Adult Factory Outlet" has been erected (heh heh, I said 'erected') on a semi-rundown building near The Office.

Are adult toys really the place one wants to economize? Do you really want factory seconds in this facet of your life?

I just hope for their patrons' sake that they don't sell used or returned merchandise!

*Do you think they were making a pun?

Humiditas, the god of Florida weather, is angry. He refuses to loosen his grasp upon us. We are languishing, wilting in the heat and humidity. The weatherwise call it "unseasonable". I call it too damn hot for the end of October.

To appease Humiditas, I have left him an offering. I have placed four lawn flamingoes in the back yard. Perhaps now he will let the temperature sink down to 80 or so.