So I’m writing this from a Holiday Inn in Pennsylvania, on our way to Connecticut. Everyone’s safe and sound and we should be there tomorrow. A weird thing happened on trip:

We were at a very small rest stop on I-80. (Bathrooms, vending machine, and that’s about it). While I was waiting for the kids to do their business, I saw a man on the pay phone calling people repeatedly with no luck. He looked super stressed out. When we went back to the car in turned out he was parked next to us. He had a wife who was curled up in the back seat, and a sleeping infant. We made our turkey and cheese sandwiches in the hatchback. I noticed the guy was tremblling and his wife was crying. After I got in the car the man turned towards me and tapped on my window. I rolled down my window and asked what was up.

The man told me he hated to bother me but he didn’t know what to do. He was at work on Satuirday when he got a call from hsi ife–her Dad had just had a heart attack. He zipped home from work, picked her up along with their son, and now, 150+ miles from home, he realized he had not packed his wallet. His gas tank was on empty. He didn’t know whether to try and double-back home or go forward to the hospital. He was very, very upset. I said Dude, no problem. I said we needed gas too, and if he would follow us to a gas station, I would gas him up.

We tried the next exit, but as usual when you are having a bad day and are extremely stressed out, there was no close gas station on that exit. We pulled into a closed gas station. He was beside himself. His wife was in a ball on the back seat. His kid was asleep. I said Dude, do not worry–let’s backtrack to the last major exit. He said I didn’t have to do that. I said guy, it is Christmas, just calm down, don’t worry. He said he had another two hundred miles to go.

We backtracked to the last exit, found the first gas station, and I gassed us both up. I gave him a paper with my name, address and phone number, and I handed him $40 from my wallet. He started crying. My wife was crying because she was PMS-ing. I asked about his son–his name was Jacob, he was 13 month old, and he had another 7 year old son they had left at home with friends. He said God bledss me. I said relax and just finish driving. We got back in our cars and on the the highway. He kept going my way and eventually we lost sight of each other.

I suppose, the world being what it is, that this guy was running a line on me, and that he always pulls in along rest stops with his female accomplice and their child and they play this out. That is possible. But I don’t think so. If it was, so be it. I’m just trying to do my part.

I’ll let you know if he ever calls or writes back. Meanwhile–have a Happy Holiday.

Japanese Love Hotel Pictorial

The New-Look Archie Comics

Anyone who likes mysteries knows that among the different sub-genre of mysteries (police procedurals, medical examiner mysteries, hard-boiled P.I.’s, etc.) are special group of crime novels from the point of view of homicidal maniacs, killers, and people who know they are bad but just can’t seem to stop themselves. The most famous would probably be Jim Thompson’s THE KILLER INSIDE ME, and there’s Lawrence Block’s HIT MAN series, and I’m currently listening on my iPod to DARKLY DREAMING DEXTER, which is about a serial killer who only kills other serial killers, and which is way better a read/listen then it has any right to be.

I had watched one episode of the Showtime series DEXTER, based on this book, and found it interesting but kind of implausible (as well as icky) that there were so many serial killers out there. Somehow I ended up giving the book a try, and I must say it is very compelling and interesting, mostly because the book (and honor binds me to say I first read this comment in The Times), while not shying away from the gross murder angle, is really best as a comedy of manners, wherebye a character who admits he has no human qualities (because he is, you know, a psychotic sociopath) observes the world around him (downtown Miami, which sounds awesome, especially the Cuban sandwiches) and comments on it from his own skewed perspective. He tries to understand the social, political, and romantic interactions of the people around him who he would just as well murder in cold blood as share a donut with, and that’s what makes it entertaining.

It’s got some not-so-good writing (“She stared at me–hard”), and some of that glossy-serial-killer-cadaver-porn that I do not care for (but we’re not supposed to care because he’s, you know, the good serial murderer), but the police procedural stuff is also very interesting and realistic. So I’d recommend it.

There’s another book in the series that just came out, and I must say that I’d probably be inclined to read it, unlike, say, the HIT MAN books, where I stopped after the second book as I started wondering “Why am I reading about the adventures of a remorseless murderer? What about these people getting murdered?” Why? Because he’s funny. And perceptive. And you learn a lot about Miami and police work. And because DEXTER is, you know, the positive role model sociopathic murderer…

More about the voice of our generation, Karl Pilkington.

We helped out and survived PTA Craft night. Here’s photographic evidence! More pictures if you click here. Thanks to Erika who organized and the awesome volunteers!

From Thanksgiving …

From Thanksgiving …

This is the story of a love affair between a heartthrob Hollywood movie star and his 300lb Vietnamese pot-bellied pig.
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