Cheeky's Hideaway

Fat, Drunk, and Stupid is No Way to Go Through Life, Son

I'm frightened.  Very, very frightened.

I think there's some genetic engineering going on around here.  People aren't supposed to look like this.

Texas was supposed to be a thicker place.  I was supposed to arrive as a svelte, attractive New Yorker, there to draw envy at my boyish good lucks and sophisticated manner, at least in relation to the Buddy Garritys that I presumed were my competition.

But when I suit up, step outside and head to the local trails for a "run" I'm surrounded by physical freaks of nature, horrific mutations of humanity.  They charge past me, fueled by organic foodstuffs and the intense drive to make people like me look like panty-wastes. 

There must be a lab, perhaps in some abandoned underground nuclear facility, where average humans like myself are injected with serum distilled from the waters of Lake Travis and Lance Armstrong's urine and turning them into walking billboards for Triathlete Magazine.  

(It's worth noting, however, that some of these experiments are clearly working for the benefit of humanity.  I've discovered, however, that this subspecies is put off by the heavy panting and wheezing that interrupts my speech during these encounters)

I don't understand!  I'm eating the same massive quantities of barbecue, tex-mex, and Shiner Bock that everyone else seems to be consuming.  Twice as much, even!  And as I stumble and heave around Town Lake I try to tell myself, "You're an animal!  You're an animal!"  Perhaps I've picked the wrong role model.

Anyway I'm just warning you all (not y'all...not yet) that there's a race of super-humans in your midst, and should they migrate north and turn upon you you won't be able to outrun them. 

Or maybe that's just me.

Live Blogging the 2009 Blogpound Fantasy Football Draft

Every year a sorry list of bloggers get together to experience the crushing pain of losing to me in fantasy football, and this year is no exception.  As a tradition I've aspired to live blog these drafts to expose the ignorance of the other participants and so amateurs can behold my own genius at work.  So for the next few hours I'll try to capture the meandering madness of our draft, at least until the beer really starts to kick in around the 11th round.  Enjoy!

7:51 - The crew is assembling.  Resident Republican BIYF is trying to get all his provocative comments in before Queen of Spain joins.  We'll be without last years champion, Metrodad, who has asked me to draft for him.  I'm targeting Maurice Clarett in the first round for him.

7:56 - Our newest member, Technosailor, has joined.  Fresh meat.

8:02 - And we're already running late because Queen of Spain is too busy scratching fleas.  Sarah claims she's pooping quails.

8:08 - Maurice Jones-Drew and Adrian Peterson go 1-2.  Then it gets weird.  Eric forgets it's a PPR league and drafts Tom Brady.  Queen of Spain takes Kurt Warner two picks later, mystifying and delighting everyone.  I pick DeAngelo Williams, because I'm in the South now and I'm required to do so.

8:10 - Whit, with the 12th & 13th pick, gets Andre Johnson and Larry Fitzgerald.  We all collectively shudder.

8:13 - Technosailor drafts Terrell Owens with his second pick.  Going for the all 2004 team.

8:19 - Picks going by too fast to track...

8:23 - A run on WR as the PPR math catches up with everyone and we all collectively realize that the remaining RBs all suck equally. 

8:29 - Hit a dry patch.  Lots of waiting.  Hoping there's a run on kickers in the fourth round.  I need a beer.

8:30 - For the record I may live in Texas now, but I cannot bring myself to root for--or draft--a Cowboy.

8:34 - Fourth round and I've only taken 1 RB so far.  Usually I go RB-RB-RB/WR, but this year I'm breaking with tradition.  After picking up Randy Moss in the 2nd and Roddy White in the 3rd, I close my eyes and pick Ochocinco.

8:37 - Dammit.  Just had to draft for Metrodad and picked Aaron Rodgers.  I wanted him.  And apparently so did Child's Play.  Tough shit, dude.

8:45 - Oodgie is sitting on the couch ignoring me.  She's watching Man vs. Food which, conveniently, is about Austin tonight.  After watching the host chow on barbecue for five minutes she declares she's going vegetarian.

8:52 - Technosailor claims Buffalo is the "dark horse of the AFC east."  He may be right...I predict they'll come in fourth.

8:54 - Jamal Lewis?  Does he still play?

9:00 - I need a QB stat.  But there's some talent at RB on the board.  What to do...what to do...

9:02 - Kellen Winslow goes.  The only Buc worth taking.  Sarah's world falls apart.

9:10 - We begin reminiscing about Tom Brady's season last year.  2 points total.  It's probably wrong, but deep down I'm smiling at the thought of a repeat.

9:14 - I just got Jonathon Stewart to handcuff DeAngelo.  That NEVER works out for me.

9:18 - Whit takes Brett Favre.  The hazing begins.  Still on the board: David Garrard, Carson Palmer, 50 better choices.  He starts blaming his draft board.  Then the chair.

9:26 - Jesus, we still have five rounds to go.

9:32 - Queen of Spain takes Sebastian Janikowski in the 12th round.  He's my #32 ranked kicker.  I LOVE HER!

9:41 - Kyle Orton will be All-World this year.  You just wait...

9:47 - People are starting to drop off.  Pussies.  Don't you care about your kicker?  Ryan Succop is still on the board!

9:57 - Michael Vick!  PETA starts throwing Molotov cocktails at Technosailors front door.

10:00 - Holy crap...16 rounds in two hours!  That's got to be a record.  I even managed to squeeze a Ahmad Bradshaw onto Metrodads roster so he wouldn't whine about not having any Giants.

And that's a wrap!  Not as funny as in previous years, but blessedly swift.  By my calculations I have by far the best team in the league, which is cold comfort considering that's what I thought last year when I came in 8th.  

Only three more drafts to go!  Looking forward to sleeping on the couch until mid-September...

Reunited and It Feels So Good

My life of leisure came to a dramatic halt Thursday night. 

Oodgie and Cheeky, who had been putting off their arrival after reading too many Austin weather reports, finally arrived.  Fresh from a summer at the pool in NoFo, Oodgie looked like she could pose for Ebony magazine, and was visibly relieved that the wait was over.  Cheeky, blissfully ignorant of the significance of the move, was her normal perky, talkative self, more interested in trying to break the world record for continuous repetition of the "No you listen to ME!" (as if we had a choice). 

Watching her run and jump into my arms at the airport will be one of my favorite memories for years to come.

Trailing behind them were a pair of heartbroken grandparents gamely putting on a brave face while the worst scenes from The Road and Where the Red Fern Grows played out in their heads. They had come to help smooth the transition to the Lone Star state for the ladies and to confirm that we weren't secretly joining a hippie commune or a rodeo tour. 

It was also a certain someone's birthday and Cheeky's first day of preschool...

...and likely to be one of the most emotionally exhausting weekends of our collective lives. 

For three days, we had a crash course on Austin culture.  We swam at Barton Springs, had barbecue at Lambert's, shopped at Whole Foods and watched the bats.  We determined that just because something was "walking distance" by our New York standards didn't mean that hoofing it on an August afternoon was a good idea.  We got caught in returning student traffic on Guadalupe and drank a lot of Shinerbock.  

The apartment went instantly from a relatively tidy bachelor pad to what looked like a garage sale after a bear attack.  Cheeky immediately chose the bedroom closet as her designated sleeping area, and Oodgie spent a little too much timing checking out the hot bodies in the pool downstairs (which is unnecessary when you consider the look I've been going for). 

The chaos and angst about the future was a heavy counter-balance to our happiness at being together again.  We found ourselves snapping at each other at times, knowing full well this was a cause for joy but being too spent and anxious to behave any other way.  Cheeky, thankfully, didn't give a crap about any of that, and would conveniently insist on playing hide and seek or drawing pictures whenever it looked like the some grapefruit-sized boil of frustration was about to burst out of someones temple. 

So this morning, when we dropped Cheeky off at her new school for the first time, it was a moment of catharsis.  Our four-year old walked casually into the room, found her cubby, and promptly found the dress up section of the playroom.  She gave us all hugs and told us she'd see us later, leaving the the adults to lose control of all voluntary motor functions once the door closed behind us. 

The door of opportunity lay wide open before her and she casually walked through it.  As usual she was braver than all of us.  

So now we're officially on our own in Austin.  The ECG's are on their way back to NYC, and tomorrow officially marks the first day of the rest of our lives.  The hard part is over, and we can focus on building something freakin' awesome here in Mexico Austin.

Here's hoping we've got enough liquor in the cabinet to get through it.

Let the Assimilation Commence

Yee haw, partners!  Y'all better watch yourselves...I got a hankerin' to redefine your definition of cute down there....

Thriving in Chaos

Howdy, y'all!

CroutonBoy here, reporting from lovely downtown Austin, TX, where the temperature is a cool, brisk 105 degrees, and the sun sparkles off the faux glasses of hipsters and the crack pipes of the homeless. 

It's been a whirlwind few weeks for the Crouton clan.  Our family has been rent asunder for a time, as I commence my Giant, Super-Important Job here in the fine state of Texas while Oodgie bides her time poolside in the North Fork.  It's beer-thirty, and I'm hiding out in my temporary apartment overlooking Town Lake until I can go outside without my pale skin smoking and popping in the late day sun.  It seemed like a good opportunity to break radio silence and give y'all a quick update.

THE JOB

...is very good.  I'm only a couple weeks in, I know, but to my delight it's been better than I'd hoped.  For starters it appears that they base hiring decisions primarily on sarcasm, which makes integration pretty seamless for me.  I'm sharing an office with another New York transplant who is maniacally focused on bitching about the Yankess and psychologically destroying anyone who doesn't exhibit a modicum of intellect.  I'm busy doing stuff I'm very good at (if I do say so myself) and already feel like I'm making a difference.  And also, free bagels on Thursdays, so there's that, too.*

THE HOUSE

In case you didn't catch it over on DadCentric, we bought a house.  It took three days of looking, five days of ruminating, and what felt like 15 minutes of negotiations, but we are now the proud owners of two mortgages!  In the meantime, our beloved pad in Brooklyn hits the market this weekend, when a bunch of strangers will spend two hours poking through our closets and ridiculing our choice of furnishings.  I really haven't had much of a chance to step back and take it all in.  Part of me feels like I should be crying myself to sleep at night on my huge pillow, but most of me is thinking about how I can fit a pool table into the spare guest room.  Get your SXSW reservations in early, kids, otherwise you're staying in tents out back...

THE CARS

We bought two of them.  Holy crap.  No one walks here, but that's what happens when you live inside a microwave.

THE CITY

So far, so good.  Only once have I ever felt like I was in stereotypical Texas, and that was when I drove to a baseball stadium in Round Rock to see Clap If You're Very White Tour.  That was like a tour of Willie Nelson's colon.  But otherwise I feel like I'm in a very hot version of Portland or Minneapolis, which ain't a bad thing.  Granted, I've spent most of my time either at the office or buying all the stuff I used to take for granted, like dishwashing soap and salt, but I can find my way around without any unexpected surprises.

THE SEPARATION

When we first talked about me going down to Austin ahead of the family, I was a little psyched.  Me, staying in an apartment downtown, by myself, walking distance to all the fun and frolic Austin has to offer and equipped with an Xbox and the complete series' of Firefly and Freaks & Geeks for when I feel like staying in.  I figured I'd reclaim my mantle of man of leisure for a few months before settling back into family life.  That may be the case, but I miss Oodgie and Cheeky.  A lot.  On the day I left Cheeky looked up at me and asked, "Daddy, are you going to be home in time to tuck me in tonight?" and I nearly lost it.  We have the standard phone conversations you have with any four year-old, in which long pauses are interrupted by out of context stories about princess dresses and breakfast, and I get pictures/letters in the mail, but it's no substitute.  Unlimited freedom has its limitations; I wish they were here.

BUT that doesn't mean I'm not gonna have fun in the mean time.  My best friend from high school is in Killeen for a few weeks, and we'll spend the weekend running from shady bar to shady bar.  Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves is playing at Alamo Drafthouse.  Hell, Ghostface Killah, Method Man, and Redman are playing tonight somewhere in town.  So if you're anywhere around Central Texas, y'all are invited to the CroutonPad. It may be temporary, it may be hot, but it won't be boring.

* And yes, I know they aren't the same as New York bagels. Whatever. They're free.

A Tree Grows in Austin (and So Does a Blog)

Posting will resume here at Cheeky's Hideaway in a few days once I stop sweating and gorging on airport food.  In the meantime, you should note the debut of a unexpected but exciting literary talent.  Emerging from the shadow of her hunky, charming, but barely literate husband, Oodgie has begun her own chronicle of the goings on at Casa de Cheeky, particularly as it goes mobile and migrates south to where the sun-bleached skulls of longhorn cattle and the ever present scent of smoking hot tex-mex crowd out the sense. 

DON'T BE THE LAST PERSON ON YOUR BLOCK TO EXPERIENCE THE EXCITEMENT, THE DRAMA, THE INTRIGUE (and, once every couple months, the romance).  CHECK OUT "A TREE GROWS IN AUSTIN" RIGHT NOW!

...On the Other Hand, New York, You Sometimes Kinda Suck

As a companion piece to the things about New York we're going to miss, here is a short but by no means complete list of things I WON'T miss about the city....the stuff that makes me want to gouge my eyes out and punch people in the back of the head. 

• The subway platforms in August
• Midtown
• The complete lack of customer service.  Anywhere.
• Carrying groceries home from the store by hand.  On foot.
• Cabs with no leg room
• The BQE
• No stars
• Assaulting, pervasive, continuous noise
• Over-privileged Upper East Side assholes
• Scaffolding. Always with the scaffolding.
• Fashion Week
• The corner of 86th and 3rd
• 22-year old asshole investment bankers
• Velvet ropes
• Penn Station
• The kind of behavior that reinforces racial stereotypes
• Gristedes
• The overwhelming stench of urine and B.O. in the summer
• Over-rated pizza
• Jets fans
• Tiny little dogs that wouldn't even make a good appetizer
• My first studio apartment: 525 sq ft.  $2350/month
• Delivery trucks
• Assumption that every bike ride may end with you splattered on a windshield
• The Knicks
• Slack-jawed tourist assholes jamming up the Brooklyn Bridge path
• The Puerto Rican Day/St. Patricks Day/Gay Pride/Dominican Day parades
• Alternate side parking rules
• Anything even remotely associated with Times Square
• Getting poked in the eye by umbrellas
• Hyper-literate, condescending artist/writer assholes
• Pre-school tuition
• Weekend subway service changes
• The industrial waste that street vendor hot dogs float in
• Being fiscally raped on EVERYTHING
• The faux drama of the Yankees
• Constant threat of alien, monster, or asteroid attack
• Self-righteous, aggressive asshole Park Slope sancti-mommies
• Air conditioner window units
• Long Island City
• The embarrassing hole where the World Trade Center used to be.  Still.
• Pretentious restaurants and clubs that pump house music until your eardrums bleed
• Friends who visit and make you take them to the Statue of Liberty, Empire State Building, etc.

What can I say.  New York, I love you, but you're bringing me down...

New York, We'll Miss You...

I'm starting to get all misty about leaving New York now that the day is finally approaching.  I've been compiling a list of all the things I'm going to miss about living here, and I keep thinking of new things every day.  If you live here or are just visiting I highly recommend you check all of these out (except maybe for Zucco..)

• Autumn
• Henry's End
• The water park on the west side piers
• Taking the 2 train to an Yankee day game.
• The balcony at the Bowery Ballroom
• Rat fights!
• Avenue Q
• The anchor on NY1 who literally reads the newspaper to you
• Bongo players at the Fulton Street station
• Weekends on the North Fork
• Belvedere Castle
• Zucco, our old super, and his 80 decibel coughing fits
• Drinks on the roof at the Peninsula Hotel
• Biking to Coney Island
• The Fairway at Red Hook
• Spider-man
• Punk rock karaoke at Arlene's Grocery
• The unexpected fireworks on the Brooklyn Heights Promenade
• Counting Al Roker, Gabriel Byrne, or Little Stevie Van Zandt as neighbors.
• Chatting up Hope Davis after seeing God of Carnage
• Anything emerging from the kitchen at Union Square Cafe
• random street fairs
• The way our neighborhood turns into Sesame Street in the summer
• Bridgewaters and the South Street Seaport, where we were married
• "The Sphere" that used to be in the plaza between the World Trade Center towers
• Pointing out landmarks from "Ghostbusters"
• The armor exhibit at the Met
• Barcade
• Trying to guess the language of the person next to you
• Cold Spring
• Shining a laser pointer into other peoples apartments
• Easy access to grandma
• Taking the water taxi into the city
• The Strand
• Smith Street
• The exhilarating terror of landing at La Guardia
• Buying socks from a street vendor
• A roasted duck meeting a cleaver in Chinatown
• The Ziegfeld
• Empty subways on Jewish holidays
• The weird fish smell the Gap at the seaport never seems to shake
• Battery Park
• Dive 75, Tribeca Tavern, and Revival
• Pierre, Liz, Doug, Brian, Isabel, & Anna
• Running around the Reservoir
• Unlimited food delivery options
• The 311 hotline
• The shared hatred of bicycle delivery men
• Dr. Z
• The fountain at the Brooklyn Museum
• The mojitos at Coffee Shop
• Grand Central Station
• Catching air on the FDR as you pass NYU hospital
• Hell's Kitchen
• The depressed polar bears at the Central Park zoo
• Outdoor movies at Brooklyn Bridge Park
• Neighborhood fire stations (and the NYFD overall)
• Never having to leave your building to visit your friends
• Governors Island
• Understanding Jon Stewarts inside jokes with his audience
• Stone Street
• The smell of nuts roasting on street corners
• Always being within two blocks of a bodega, pizza, or a Starbucks
• The most genuine people on the planet

That's not even the whole list.  But don't worry...my list of what I WON'T miss is coming next, which should be infinitely more fun to write...

The Stars at Night are Big and Bright

So....big news here at Casa de Cheeky.

The CroutonClan is moving to Austin.

Some of you poor souls who follow me throughout the rest of the statusphere probably already knew that. The whole thing has had me so preoccupied and introspective that writing something more than 140 characters long seemed like climbing the Cliffs of Insanity without a rope.  That's why I've been wasting your my time writing about movie characters and music instead of my normal fart-strewn narratives (if I've written at all).

I didn't want to jinx it. 

Here's the deelio.  You may recall a few months back when my former employer saw an opportunity to kick me in the teeth and send me off to explore the magical bureaucratic world of COBRA and unemployment benefits.  Although this has given me ample time to re-exert my role as Alpha Parent and work on my tan, it's a lacked a certain something. 

The New York job market, at the same time, has collapsed like democracy in Iran. I started out with some enthusiastic recruiters but it wasn't long before I stopped hearing from them.  Everyone I knew described themselves as either "keeping their head down" or "shit-canned, too."  And although the prospect of financial destitution may be appealing to Depression Era cinemaphiles it forced us to consider radical alternatives to make ends meet.

Which brings us--literally--to Austin.

The job itself is fundamentally similar to what I was doing before (which I loved) but with more responsibility, better clients, and people who clearly recognize talent when they see it.  It's in a state with no income tax.  And I have as yet to meet anybody who has been to Austin that doesn't claim they LOVE it.  With a shrug and a collective "Why not?" we went for it.

Holy crap.  It worked.

Now we're faced with a bazillion choices that are making our heads swim.  When do we move?  Do we buy or rent?  Where will Cheeky go to school?  How do we deal with the summer heat?  Do I drive like a liberal asshole, a redneck asshole, or just a regular asshole?  Do I loathe the Cowboys, or just despise them?  Human sacrifice. Dogs and cats living together. Mass hysteria!

It's enough to drive a man batty!

Despite it all, though, I'm totally psyched.  I'm really glad to have a job again.  I'm thrilled to be moving to a city known for music, tex-mex, and its cultural idiosyncrasies.  I even know a blogger or two down there, which should make the acclimation a little bit easier.

More news to follow soon...it should be a grand adventure...

Happy Birthday Cheeky!

FOUR?  Are you kidding me?  Four????  How the heck did you get so old??  Where did the time go?  And yet here you are...funny, precious, exhausting, talkative, kind, energetic, annoying, beautiful, and perfect.  All four years of you.  Happy birthday, kiddo.  Every day you expand my capacity for love.