On Friday, 15 May, our friends Matt and Kerri, who had been legally married for several months, finally hosted a reception at the Thomas Center gardens in northeast Gainesville.  Miriam and I dressed pretty and arrived somewhat early, so that we observed the caterers setting up tables and the band plugging in instruments.  Soon enough, all our other friends arrived, food was served, and Matt and Kerri wandered around greeting everyone.  There was an open bar, so I took advantage and drank many an IBC Root Beer.  The gardens looked beautiful after dark, since the newlyweds had carefully strung lights and hung decorations.  They gave out as favors some fake mustaches, and many guests were wearing them.  The band was talented, and though people didn’t dance so much, everyone appeared to be having a good time.  Such a good time, in fact, that some time after nine o’clock the police arrived.  Kerri greeted the officer wearing a fake mustache and explained that she and Matt had obtained a noise permit in advance.  The party continued.  In fact, it would have kept going had the Thomas Center staff not begun removing the tables and chairs.  It was well after ten o’clock when we all disbanded, but only to be parted for a few hours.

Many of the party guests were roller derby girls, and the team was holding a car wash the following morning at Coffee Culture on 13th Street.  That place seems to like the Gainesville Roller Rebels: they even have a drink called a “Ruby Typhoon”.  The team had held successful car washes there before, and this was a good opportunity to raise money for charity.  Miriam and others arrived quite early, but I stopped by later on my way to work.  I was glad that Harris was there.  He’s fun to talk to.   Sara brought Coleslaw, which amused everyone.  Tradition has it that everyone will meet at Big Lou’s following a GRR carwash, and when I got out of work I rode my bike over there.  Alas, we sat outside in the sweltering heat.

While I went Swimming at Kat and Harris’ apartment, Miriam spent the afternoon preparing food to take to a surprise birthday party for our friend Kyle that his girlfriend Adrienne was holding at her apartment.  Guests were advised to dress like Kyle, which for some meant wearing glasses.  Many of Kyle’s friends were there, and we all socialized until he was brought home unaware, we hoped, of the party that was waiting for him.  Kyle thought he was just coming over to Adrienne’s for a quiet dinner after having some drinks with friends at the Top.  You know how you become suspicious when your birthday is coming up, and people begin acting strange?   As the party went on, and reports came in describing Kyle’s whereabouts, we began to worry that the secret would get out.  At one point, Matt, who was with Kyle, informed Adrienne that Kyle had wanted to go to his own apartment.  This was bad, because all the party guests had parked in front of Kyle’s apartment.  When he observed the vehicles of all his friends he would be sure something was up.  But we hid anyway.  Some of us hid, that is.  A few friends stayed in the dining room, figuring that we could still get him even if he was suspicious by making him think that he was having a small party, then, Surprise!, we all jump out of Adrienne’s bedroom and it’s a big party.  So Adrienne tells us it’s time to hide, and we go in her room and turn off the lights and wait.  Kerri and I kept watch out the window, waiting for the boys to come up the steps.  After what seemed like forever, they finally arrived.  When he entered the house Adrienne was going to ask him to fetch something for her from her bathroom.  Sure enough, he opened the door, and I think we almost gave him a heart attack, if not from the surprise itself, then from the sheer amplitude of our shouting.  Everyone ate because there was seriously a lot of food, and Adrienne presented Kyle with a cake.  We partied until the early morning hours.

The next day (Sunday), Miriam and I awoke and readied ourselves for a little day trip to St. Augustine and the beach.  The weather was nice, and after a long search we found good parking in the old historic district of the city.  Everywhere you looked couples were walking hand-in-hand.  Unfortunately, the service was terrible at the restaurant where we ate lunch.  But after that unpleasant experience we took A1A south to Marineland and found a nearly deserted stretch of beach.  By the time we left we were the only ones there.  Alas, I forgot my camera, so all I got were cellphone pictures.  But it was a lovely Sunday, and the perfect end to an epic weekend.

Florida State University was playing Florida at McKethan Stadium here at UF.  It is a lovely park, with a particularly fine view of great pines and some of the taller campus landmarks.  Marty met me there.  He even brought me a drink down from the press box.  My free ticket also entitled me to a free “Beat FSU” t-shirt, which I gave to Marty.  We sat up on the third base side, above the Gators dugout.

The game got off to a rough start.  FSU scored three runs in the first inning, then another two in the second.  UF scored a couple runs early on, which kept me from feeling hopeless.  But that would be it for FSU.  They hardly got another hit after the second, and their pitching deteriorated in a manner that was uncomfortable to watch.  Literally.  The changed pitchers at least six times, and by the seventh inning, with the sun having already set, and the wind having picked up, it was cold.  Hundreds–maybe even thousands–of fans who had arrived at the game wearing only shorts and short-sleeved shirts fled.  Those who stayed–Marty and me included–just wanted the game to end.  But FSU’s pitching troubles continued, and they had so many conferences on the mound, followed by pitching changes, and new-pitcher-warm-ups, that the dedicated fans who stayed nevertheless felt the urge to boo.  It got ugly in the bottom of the eighth, with the wind howling through the stadium, when the catcher once again walked from the plate out to the mound.  It wasn’t Disco Demolition Night, but there was loud, angry heckling, and many cries of “let’s just get this over with!”

Florida won eight to five, and I biked home in the dark and cold.  But it was great, and I look forward to doing it again.

We went to Best Buy last Saturday and bought a Blu-ray disc player.  I had seen one at a friend’s house last year, and the picture was incredible.  But I expected it to be.  Since the introduction of the DVD player, video quality has been steadily improving.  HDTV, of course, has been the greatest leap forward.  But the Blu-ray player is much more than high-definition video.  It’s Netflix.

I must be the last of my friends to use Netflix, an online video store that sends DVDs to members through the mail, which they then watch and return.  That process is fairly low-tech, and never struck me as the most convenient way to watch movies, though I had to admire Netflix’s selection.

Recently, visiting friends, I have seen that Netflix now offers streaming video, which can be accessed via fancy game consoles or a Blu-ray player.  Harris and Kat, and Ryan and Karla showed us how they could select from a seemingly unlimited number of Netflix films to watch instantly on their TVs through internet streaming.  My prognosticating skills are apparently limited, because I never thought streaming video was the future.  That is, I thought slow internet connections and limited hard-drive space were significant obstacles.  Who, I wondered, would spend hours downloading a movie, which will take up a ton of space on his or her computer, and which he or she will have to watch on a tiny computer screen?  That’s not how it works, it turns out.

On Monday morning I hooked up our new Blu-ray player, moved around some wires so I could connect it to the cable modem, and then signed up for Netflix.  Last night we experienced the magic.  We went to the Netflix website, selected the exact movie Miriam wanted to see at that moment, added it to our “instant” cue.  Then, magically, that title appeared on our TV screen.  I pressed play, the Blu-ray player spent thirty seconds or less downloading the movie–or at least it began downloading the movie–then the film began.  The picture was widescreen, looked as good as a DVD, sounded as good, too, and played flawlessly without any skips or blips for the entire duration of the film.  I could barely believe it.  Miriam and I high-fived each other.

So, now there are countless movies and TV shows that we have ready to watch whenever we sit down in front of the television.  Plus, we can still get physical DVDs and Blu-ray discs in the mail.  I’m expecting Parsifal today.

We’re living in the future!  What does it cost?  Less than nine dollars a month.  Since we canceled the premium channels on our cable, were saving money.  Huzzah!

So, thanks, Steve.

Several years ago, he moved to Miami.  It was a logical move.  Unless you have an advanced degree or some other special qualification,  Gainesville can be a tough place to find work.  Plus, Sandi was in Miami.

About that time, Jeff got involved in a business that is far more necessary and profitable in South Florida than it is here: animal removal.  In Miami, if somebody has an alligator or large snake in his backyard, or an opossum or raccoon in his attic, he calls a company to get rid of it.  Jeff worked for a business that did just that.  Still, it was working for someone else, and the boss was getting wealthy while Jeff did the work.

So, Jeff started his own business called Miami Animal Removal, and last week he was on TV.  Wednesday night, on a Discovery Channel show called Verminators, Jeff was shown capturing peacocks that were creating a disturbance in a residential area.  Even on TV, he seemed just like the Jeff I’ve known for years.  Sure, he fell down in slow motion, and a peacock defecated on him, but he was on TV, and he’s doing it for himself.

I won’t go into any detail about the plot, but it was thrilling, if somewhat complicated.  I actually didn’t fully understand it the first time around, and it was only with Karla’s help that I was able to grasp some of the more sophisticated elements.  She and Ryan know a lot about Star Trek, and they thought it was excellent; I know nothing, and I thought it was great.  So it seems that the filmmakers really did something right.  Karla was mildly obsessed, and had seen the picture four times already by last weekend when Miriam and several other GRR people wanted to go see Terminator: Salvation.  I really didn’t want to see that, and, since Karla and a couple others were going to see Star Trek again, I went along.  It was even better the second time.  I understood more.

I think this film will be a classic.

This house stands in a neighborhood we used to call the “Emo Ghetto”, since it was–and still is–home to some of Gainesville’s skinniest and tightest-pants-wearing hipsters.  You never knew who you’d run into hanging out there.  A fellow whom I recognized as Jeff’s neighbor was there, and with him was a girl I had never seen before.  She was dressed rather fancifully and wore sunglasses.  We didn’t speak that day, but 1,701 days later–four years ago today–we were married.

Social networking websites have wrought much evil, but they have reintroduced me to several friends who had, for all intents and purposes, dropped off the face of the Earth.  Facebook has done more to counter the diasporic effects of time than anything else, and on Monday I experienced a rich reward: I had dinner with Erin Alvarez.

It had been almost ten years since I had seen her last, and until we found one another on Facebook, I couldn’t have guessed she lived here in Gainesville.  But she does, and she has a nice boyfriend, and we had a great time at Big Lou’s, and I am looking forward to spending lots more time catching up and hanging out.

Now if I can just persuade my friends Dan and Burt to move to Gainesville I’ll be set.

When I first began seeing Miriam, I asked if she’d be willing to cut my hair.  I think she did once, but haircuts, in her opinion, are best left to professionals.  So, beginning in 2001 or so, she and I started seeing Amy at The Tease, which used to be in an upstairs suite on SE 1st Street.  Amy was nice, and did a good job, but The Tease was very expensive, and, if I recall correctly, Amy only got a fraction of what we paid.  Eventually she left The Tease and Miriam and I sought a new hairdresser.

I don’t remember how, but we found a girl named Danielle with her own salon called Hair Supply in an old house right behind Wise’s Drugstore.  Danielle is really talented–so much so that Miriam feels free to say, “give me whatever”–and she’s a mom who’s running her own business, so we feel good about going to her.  Plus, she’s not that expensive, and, best of all, she is glad to take a before and after picture each time I go.  Since 2005 or so, Danielle has been the only one to cut my hair.

Last month I had an appointment that I simply forgot about.  I had written it down, but by April 16 I was so busy with papers and tests that I simply spaced out.  So, today was my makeup haircut.  Miriam told me the other day she liked my hair when it was a bit longer, so I only got a little taken off the back.  And, while I didn’t get a shampoo–my favorite part of the haircut procedure–it didn’t cost me anything.

Danielle doesn’t do any advertising I know of, and her name isn’t even written on the outside of her building, but it seems like half the people I know go to her.  While I was there, I ran into one of Miriam’s roller derby teammates.

I doubt I will ever grow long hair again.

• I began classes at the University of Florida.  This is remarkable, because had I waited any longer the window would have closed on me, probably forever.  The University announced this year that they were changing their admissions policy for transfer students.  Unlike other universities in Florida, UF doesn’t have to admit students with transfer degrees from community colleges.  They can pick and choose.  And when the average GPA for entering freshmen at UF is over 4.0, there is little incentive for them to take people like me.  I got in just under the wire.  School is challenging, but rewarding.  I feel very grateful to be where I am.
• This year I became active in a roller debry league.  I am not a skater, of course, but I spent a lot of time with the girls who are skaters, and contributed to the league in my own small way.
• I did lots of traveling in 2008.  In January I spent a weekend in Daytona Beach at the wedding of my closest friends; in June I spent almost a week in Chicago, which is surely one of the world’s great cities; in early August I spent several days in Hilton Head, South Carolina, which I didn’t care much for as a place, but can now say I’ve seen; went to Savannah twice; had a great weekend in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, which is a delightful little town; had an incredibly memorable week in Washington, DC, where I saw a million amazing things.
• I made lots of new friends, and reconnected with many old friends on Facebook.  I saw Burt twice.
• I got myself an amazing Fender Telecaster, which is ideal in nearly every way.
• I continued my incredible no-vomiting streak.
• I paid off all of my credit card debt.
• I watched lots of Olympics on TV.
• I became the last person I know to buy a laptop computer, and it’s changed my life.
• I discovered Samuel Johnson, which also changed my life.
• I had several photographs published in books, magazines, and even the website of the Wall Street Journal.
• I ate an astonishing amount of Hungry Howie’s pizza.
• I perfected the grilled cheese sandwich (the secret ingredient is salt).
• I read: Emma; Persuasion; Oroonoko; Wuthering Heights; Lady Audley’s Secret; Evelina; Robinson Crusoe; Roxana; Oliver Twist; The Monk; Clarissa; Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and tons of poetry.
• I saw Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band in concert; they played “Jungleland”.

So long, 2008.  You were good to me.  As I do every year, I close with the Stephen Foster sentiment that has become my credo: Hard Times Come Again No More.