CO-Counsel, part aleph

Before I begin, I'd like to make a comment about an earlier post. During the Facial Hair Odyssey™, I called the following facial hair pattern "The Whitfield" - for the sole reason that Dr. G. Kerr Whitfield is from North Carolina (I assume the Raleigh-Durham area, since the only area of NC that I know).

Well, I was a little disappointed in myself for that name. I could have done better. Thankfully, I have other people to think for me. And they did better. Namely one Mr. Chris Wie, aka Wee Man. He commented that I looked like Morgan Spurlock. Brilliant. If I had that kind of comedic insight, I would have crammed two fistfuls of french fried potatoes into my maw before taking the picture. I also learned that Wee Man has the same thought that I do whenever I see that DVD: "I want french fries." Congratulations, Mr. Spurlock, you accomplished the opposite of what you set out to do. Now shave that handlebar stash, for the good of the country.

I'll be honest, I think he only made the movie so he could eat Mickey D's around his Vegan girlfriend. Moving on...

29 May 2006 marked one of America's favorite 3-word phrases: Free Porn Monday! No, that can't possibly be right. What was it? Ah yes: Three Day Weekend! Sweet! I'm not really sure what the holiday was. Labor Day? Columbus Day? Arbor Day? I don't remember. But as a result we get two gifts - a weekend which is one day longer followed by a week which is one day shorter. Life is good.

To celebrate this fine time, Legal Counsel and I flew out to Colorado to visit her family. But this wasn't just a random visit. A pointless excuse to get free room and board. No, there was a celebration happening. A joyous event to be celebrated by friends and family...and apparently SO's of family which have never met before. This merry observance? Legal Counsel's cousin's B'nai Mitzvah. She was becoming a bat mitzvah.

Legal Counsel's patriarchal side of the family is Jewish, so for those of you not in the know let me explain. When a jewish girl or boy turns 12 or 13, respectively, they are said to be a son or daughter of the commandment, not respectively. It marks the time when they become an adult. At this time they spend months studying the Torah; when they're fully prepared they perform a reading during a following Shabbat. And apparently the girls gain the ability to shapeshift into a winged rodent, or something like that.

So we flew out the preceeding Friday and stayed until Monday night. A good time was had by all. Her whole family was really nice, and my discomfort at invading a family function quickly dissipated. Part of the reason for that increased comfort level was the copious amounts of alcohol flowing from every direction. Which leads me to believe that Colorado is home to the Big Rock Candy Mountain (according to the creepy, child-recruiting Hobo lyrics circa 1897, not the cleaned up kids version. look it up).

Fellow '09 Bryan Foley tried to tell me there'd be alcohol, he really did. But I didn't believe him. He said, "I bet the party will have an open bar" to which I replied "It's a party for pre-teens - why would there be alcohol?? Also, stop touching my leg like that."

But he was totally right. There was an open bar at the bat mitzvah reception. And at everybody's house. Pretty much wherever I went, there was alcohol. At the reception I had 3ish glasses of wine, the world's most delicious cosmo, some bitter Czech beer and a fifth of vodka. I think...I don't really remember. At one of her aunt's houses, tequila was practically being poured down our throats. And I finally got to experience the joy that is intravenous whiskey.

You all know how much I hate to stereotype (with the exception of hippies, Frenchies, fraternities, sororities, Republicanies, D-Rock's families, Canadians, short people, tall people, fat people, thin people, robber barons, Australians, bikers, MSRP administrators, NASCAR fans, Swedes, SUV drivers, those guys that put the little things on the end of shoelaces, communications majors, drum majors, John Major, Major League Soccer, British soccer fans, Fandango users, engineers, scientists, surgeons, old people, young people, break dancers, film critics, bloggers, crop dusters, Inuits, sports fans, guys that play basketball thinking they're good, anybody at the rec, hair-weave vendors at the mall, mall shoppers, skateboarders, artists, musicians and Abe Vigoda). But I have to say that Jewish people love them some alcohol. I don't think I was ever more than 10 feet or 3 minutes (whichever is smaller) from alcohol. And yet I didn't even get one sip of Manischewitz wine. Sad...

In part bet, I'll go over some other highlights of the trip.