but…uh…

So, I just realized that St. Patrick’s Day is on Friday. When did that happen?

For some reason, my thoughts turned to McDonald’s and their Shamrock Shakes. I haven’t had one of these in YEARS! Of course, since I never watch commercials I had no way to know if they had them or not. I thought they must, but to save a trip I looked online. There was no sight of them at the McDonald’s website. Ever since Supersize Me, though, their marketing has focused on the “healthy” aspects of their food and the benefits of exercise.

Yeah, whatever, clown. Give me a nuclear green shake and shut your fry hole.

So, if they won’t tell me about what they are ACTUALLY selling, I knew that Google would save me. A quick search for shamrock shake turns up this site. Bring Back the Shamrock Shake. WTF? According to this guy, they hadn’t made them in up to 10 years. Am I really that old? That’s crazy.

So, I dutifully clicked on the link to send some feedback to Ronald McDonald and I gave him a piece of my mind.

Bring back the shamrock shake!

I was about to get up and go to McDonald’s just to get one and a quick search on Google tells me you haven’t made them in years. What’s up with that? They were the best thing EVAR!

I’m sure you wouldn’t be able to whip some up for this year, but maybe next year you could turn it around and everyone will be happier. I know I would be. And so would my friends.

Luck o’ the Irish to ya,

Aaron O’Hurley

OK, so my last name isn’t O’Hurley, but I thought if I mick’d it up a little with an extra O’ I might garner more sympathy.

Not long after sending off my note of concern I see ANOTHER page on the same site saying that Shamrock Shakes have been spotted at McDonald’s in various parts of the country. Well, now there’s a mission. A chance. I don’t care if I end up driving to Ohio, I’m going to get a sweet sweet minty shake. I will not be denied.

Turns out, I wasn’t. 2 miles down the road at the closest McDonald’s I could find, they had them right there on the menu board. They didn’t have any big posters or anything on the building. They reserved those for the selling their Apple Walnut Salad. (Come on. Who do they think they are kidding?) You can click on the photo below to see the whole adventure. It may not have been as difficult as originally envisioned, still, it was so thick, and frothy, and just so shamrocky.

They are so choice. If you have the means, I highly recommend picking one up.

Let me start by saying that I’ve never been one for decorating for holidays other than Christmas, but I think that might have to change next year. It might be wrong, but I think this is a great idea.

In other fun news, I just found out that the Matt Groening approved the filming of a live action opening for The Simpsons. Check it out, it’s great.

OK, so it’s been 22 days since my last entry.  Not the longest break by far, but it’s been a full 3 weeks.  I don’t have much time to write so I’ll make it quick.

The play went really well and the crowds got bigger every show.  Thanks to everyone who came out and to Ravi for the great DriveTime exposure.  

 While working on the play, an old friend hooked me up with some developers in San Jose who were launching a new website and needed help with some modules for their product.  I did a little work for them and they flew me out to California for a few days for some intense coding prior to the February 15th launch.  While there, they offered me a really excellent full time job. 

The opportunity was far too good to pass up so I decided to take it.  I finished the last weekend of performances and then flew to Nashville where my Mini was still sitting to be sold since I moved last fall.  I renewed my tags, had a lovely dinner with Jimmy and Tina, and on Thursday the 23rd I hit the open road.  3 days, 6 states and 2,400 miles later, I arrived in San Jose.  Well, Santa Clara to be exact. 

I’m working for just a great group of people in a beautiful setting.  Just to give you an idea, no one in the office had seen any of the best picture nominees this year so every day this week has included an afternoon matinee to catch up on them.  How great is that?  Throw in a birthday party on Monday and karaoke with some friends from San Francisco tonight and I don’t have time to sleep or do any pleasure surfing.  I’ve not even turned on a TV. 

There’s a lot of work but the people and place are wonderful.  Sure, it’s a little bit like Mayberry (except with traffic), but the gorgeous views I wake up to every day are stellar.  In many ways, I still can’t believe this is my life.  I’m not 100% sure I’ve ever really known what home feels like.  I think this might be it – and I like it.

Well, it’s blogging time again. 

As you may know I’ve been ridiculously busy lately.  Aside from all the work things, I’ve been rehearsing for a play since Thanksgiving.  It’s come along quite nicely and we opened last weekend to much larger than expected crowds and a great audience response.   My understanding is we’ve almost sold out Saturday’s performance this week, too.   People really do seem to love The Lion in Winter.

If you’re in the Boston area this weekend or next, stop by America’s oldest community theater, The Footlight Club, and check it out.  It’s great fun and I get to play a bad guy.  What’s not to like about that?

If you can’t make it, at least click on the link below to watch me pimp my show on this week’s DriveTime. 

I’m sure by now that most of you are familiar with the phenomenon from the December 17th Saturday Night Live that is Lazy Sunday. 

The trio primarily responsible for that great video are new cast member Andy Samberg and writers Akiva Schaffer and Jorma Taccone.  Prior to being on SNL, they were better known on the internet as the group behind The Lonely Island.  Those 3 are responsible for perhaps my favorite viral video ever created, Just 2 Guyz.  It’s just perfect in so many ways.  You might even say it’s Kablammo.

However, the one thing of theirs I can’t get out of my head to save my life is Wait (You Guys).  It’s impossible not to repeat it over and over.  Go ahead, click on it.  It’s ridiculous and great.  It’s also not safe for kids or some work places so proceed with caution. 

I’m not one to propogate stereotypes and jokes informed by various "isms" but… oh, screw it.  This is just the best blonde joke ever.

OK, Tribe might be in the middle of quite the brouhaha, but I still have a few friends there. This year, one of the small tribes I belong to had its 2nd Secret Santa exchange. Sure, it might have been a few days late, no thanks to UPS, but I got a kick ass Secret SANNEta. Thanks, Annetastic!

When I was a kid, I loved snooping for my Christmas gifts.

I’m not sure why I did it. I was the kid who always knew what he was getting because I knew to ask specifically. Once the Sears Wish Book arrived in August, I would go about circling what exactly I wanted. I didn’t ask for a stereo. I asked for the stereo on page 235, Item K, with catalog number C430-1114. There was no mistake. Sure, it may have lacked the poetry and magic of Santa Claus but it was absent the potential disappointment as well.

Nonetheless, once the presents were under the tree, I was shaking and sifting with the best of them. I could usually pinpoint with great accuracy a number of the gifts for both myself and my sisters. My parents got so fed up that one year they decided to use a coded numbering system. Of course, once the presents were under the tree I had cracked the code in about 2 minutes. It helped that my older sister had asked for a bulletin board. That was pretty easy to spot and then it was all down hill after that.

Only once did they actually manage to surprise me. The year was 1986 or 1987. I wanted a CD player so badly yet, by the time Christmas morning had arrived, it wasn’t there. I couldn’t believe it. When my parents came back from the office conference room where they wrapped their gifts, I helped carry the loot from the car to the tree, inspecting every item. No luck. I checked every day. Nothing. Christmas morning there were no new boxes. Dismay was at hand.

Then, miraculously, as my father was handing out gifts, he handed one to me that wasn’t mine. It had my mom’s name on it. It was, of course, the coveted CD player. I had never thought to look at packages that were addressed to my parents. I guess it was my lack of interest in thing like bathrobes and necklaces. The camouflage worked like a charm. It turns out I had even carried the CD player into the house and placed it under the tree while never suspecting a thing. It was genius and I’ve never been more proud of my parents than I was at that moment.

I should confess that the snooping was bound to start before presents were wrapped and under the tree. Starting maybe in October, an extra sojourn into my parents’ bedroom closet to gaze at the high wire racks was always in order. I wasn’t tall enough to reach anything but once in a while you could make out the edge of a remote control car or some other prize. I’m not especially proud of myself but I’ve always been the curious sort. I was certain never to spoil another’s surprise and always acted appropriately appreciative and dazzled on the big day.

Now, 25 years later and I’m spending my first Christmas where I won’t be visiting my parents. It’s quite strange for a number of reasons. One of the most surprising is that the FedEx and UPS trucks have been making regular stops at my door; delivering boxes from Amazon to Tampa Bay. I’ve been alone in my house for countless hours with numerous gifts addressed to me. Some are sitting unwrapped inside plain brown boxes just a few feet away and I’ve not looked at one.

I’m dying to know what’s inside them yet I find it so satisfying to not look. What happened? What changes? Is it maturity? Is it appreciation of exactly what a surprise can be? Is it that since there is no one to catch me, snooping has lost its inherent thrill? I hope it’s not the last one. That seems like perhaps some sort of social or psychological problem I’m not prepared to address right now.

Whatever the reason, I’m ready and waiting. I’m counting down the days until Christmas and seeing what Santa brought. OK, maybe I’ll just go have one little shake first.

We woke up this morning to a light frost followed by some real snow.

This wasn’t a wet, October snow, but the real thing and perfect day to buy a Christmas tree.

There I am. 34 years old and on my first visit to a Christmas tree lot.

I know many of you might not believe that, but it’s true. The year before I was born, my parents’ Christmas tree caught on fire while out by the curb waiting to be hauled away by the garbage men. It went up quick, like a, well, Christmas tree. This caused sufficient alarm in my mother as to decree the era of artificial trees had begun.

The tree they purchased for my first Christmas was the same tree we would use until I moved away and went to college. My first year out of the dorms there I bought a fake tree at a great price and used it for the last 14 years. For $35 it looked wonderful and I loved it. This year is different.

Like many people, Abby is insistent on a real tree so I was game to give it a go. I gave away my tree to some people at my yard sale in Nashville in August and haven’t looked back yet. So far, the branches are falling nicely and the aroma is divine. Far nicer than any sprays or candle.

While we’re talking about trees, what’s the deal with trying to call them “holiday trees”?

I get the idea of cities, governments, schools, etc., avoiding religious affiliation by using things like “Happy Holidays” and giving kids 2 weeks off for “Winter Break.” That is perfectly acceptable and what they should be doing. How can you complain about that? But if you cut down a pine tree, stick lights, ornaments, and garland on it – it’s a Christmas tree. Period. Is there a tree for Kwanzaa? Nope. Ramadan? Nope. Maybe Chanukah? Not hardly. Only Christmas. This particular decoration has but the one affiliation and to fail to identify it as such is a joke.

I may not be a Christian but I know a Christmas tree when I see it. Just as I’m pretty sure my Jewish friends know their menorah isn’t really a “Holiday Candelabra.”

This is the description for the role of Geoffrey when he first appears on stage in the play “The Lion in Winter.”

GEOFFREY, Count of Brittany, is twenty-five. A man of energy and verve, he is attractive, charming and the owner of the best brain of a brainy family.

I think it’s all very clear now.

Happy Thanksgiving from Florida!