J.D. Salinger

Jan. 1, 1919- Jan. 27, 2010

The feelings I have for The Catcher in the Rye are so cliche that I almost don’t want to share them – too bad I’m too big of a sap to keep them in.

I know that countless people have insisted that the Catcher in the Rye changed their life. Again, it’s so cliche that it’s sickening. But seriously, how could it not? I read it when I was a sophomore in high school, and yes, it changed my life. I always loved to read, but after I read The Catcher in the Rye, I felt like reading was cool. I felt like such a bad ass after reading that book. It was really the first book that blew me away – it was such an amazing feeling. Finally, I thought, someone understands me. Holden Caulfield understands me. J.D. Salinger understands me. It was cool to be different, and coming to that understanding played a pivotal role in my development.

I read the book several times throughout high school, but I haven’t read it since. I know that the book will not mean the same thing anymore. I know the angst dripping off of the page will probably irritate my maturer sensibility. I have a feeling that reading it as an adult will tarnish my almost romantic view of the book. I read a couple of Salinger’s other novels and some of his short stories, but none of them compare to The Catcher in the Rye. There is just something special about Holden Caulfield. There is a certain magic in that character, and that is what makes the book so wonderful. Salinger knew this, which is why he never sold the film rights of the book. He knew that Holden is alive only in his readers’ minds, and that Holden’s interiority could not be effectively portrayed on screen.

Anyway, Salinger was one hard-core bad ass, and whenever I think of him I can’t help but feel warm and fuzzy.

“Milton would say that you shouldn’t be depressed when comparing yourself to God; it should be exhilarating knowing that you have the seed of divinity within you and exciting knowing that you have so much room to grow and learn.”

Good ole Milton. I loved what she said so much that I wrote it down in my little journal. That way, when I start to have feelings of inadequacy I can turn to that page for a quick pick-me-up. So anyway, when Kyle got home from work that day, I told him the back story, and then I read the quote to him. His response? “Oh-ho-ho! So you have the SEED of divinity in you, huh?” Yes, Kyle effectively turned Jenn/Milton’s inspirational message into a dirty one. Does this mean I’m preggo with God’s baby? Don’t answer that Jenn!

My Mom made the most delicious yams for Christmas, and she sent me home with some leftovers. Since the glaze she makes for them consists of brown sugar, butter, and a little bit of corn syrup, I thought they would make a fine addition to my morning oats. 

So. Good. And very filling! Oh, do you like the new bowl I got on sale from Anthropologie while we were in San Francisco? It’s my new oatmeal bowl. Love it!

Top 5 Lines by Aldo:

1.) “And once we’re in enemy territory, as a bushwackin’, guerrilla army, we’re gonna be doin’ one thing, and one thing only—Killin’ Nazis…  But I sure as hell didn’t come down from the goddamn Smoky Mountains, cross five thousand miles of water, fight my way through half Sicily, and then jump out of a fuckin’ air-o-plane to teach the Nazis  lessons in humanity. Nazi ain’t got no humanity. They’re the foot soldiers of a Jew-hatin’, mass-murderin’ maniac, and they need to be destroyed.  That’s why any and every son-of-a-bitch we find wearin’ a Nazi uniform, they’re gonna die.”

2.) “Wicki there, an Austrian Jew, got the fuck outta Salzberg while the gettin’ was good. Became American, got drafted, and came back to give y’all what for.” 

3.) “We just wanna say, we’re a big fan of your work. When it comes to killin’ Nazis, I think you show great talent, and I pride myself on havin’ an eye for that kind of talent. But your status as a Nazi killer is still amateur. We all came here to see if you wanna go pro?”

4.) LT. ALDO: “Well, I speak the most Italian, so I’ll be your escort. Donowitz speaks  the second most, so he’ll be your Italian cameraman. And Hirschberg  third most, so he’ll be Donny’s assistant.”

HIRSCHBERG: “I don’t speak Italian.”

LT. ALDO: “Like I said, third best. Just keep your fuckin’ mouth shut. In fact, why don’t you start practicing right now.”

5.) “Buongiorno.”

Honorable Mentions:

• “Naw, I don’t think so, more like I’ll  be chewed out. I’ve been chewed out before.”
• COL. LANDA: “Oooh, that’s a bingo. Is that the way you say it, that’s a bingo?” LT. ALDO: “You just say, bingo.”
• “You know somethin’, Utivich? I think this just might be my masterpiece.”

We still have Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction to watch. I’d better get busy!

It’s a Tarantino Christmas!

First stop: Starbucks. I started out the day with some oatmeal and an eggnog latte (’tis the season!). 

When we got to Sierra, we got our rentals and paid for my snowboarding lesson.

This is Kyle and me trying to look hardcore. I wouldn’t mess with us!

We realized that we had a few hours to kill before my lesson started, so I decided to try to figure out how the hell to strap myself into my deathtrap (i.e. snowboard), and try to make my way around in the snow as best as I could. Kyle went snowboarding practically every weekend when he was in high school, and even though it has been several years since he has been, he picked it right up again! So he tried to teach me a few things, which only ended in me leaving Kyle (or him leaving me…). Kyle is a very smart person, and he knows the physics and aerodynamics (and whatnot) involved in snowboarding, and he thought that telling me these things would help me learn how to snowboard. As nice as that thought was, it was of absolutely no help (surprise, surprise, right?). I simply didn’t understand anything he said, and was left very frustrated (and bored. I hate science lectures!). After about ten minutes of this, he thought it would be a good idea to just get me on the lift, and he thought I would eventually figure it out. Yeah, that was not going to happen. There was no way in hell I was getting on that lift without first knowing at least the basics. This offended him, but I wasn’t going to budge. I told him to just go without me, as I saw a sparkle in his eye as he was watching people gracefully maneuver down the mountain. He didn’t hesitate for a moment, which was both cute and a little annoying. That was basically the end of my lesson with Kyle. 

My snowboarding lesson with the instructor was much more rewarding and a lot less frustrating. The instructor was really great – she knew exactly how to explain how to do things without getting too technical. It was so much freaking fun even though I was falling and flailing about. While I took several spills, only one was a doozy. I was going too fast so I dug my heel edge into the snow, and it stopped me immediately. I fell right on my ass/tailbone, and used my left hand to try to stop the fall (stupid! But trust me, your brain doesn’t work in moments like these). The fall was so hard that it jarred my head a little bit, and I was left with a bit of a headache. My hand actually didn’t hurt me until an hour later when the lesson was over and I sat down with Kyle. Gotta love that adrenaline and those endorphins! 

So, guess what? We didn’t even go on the lift during our first lesson. The instructor said that they teach you how to get on/off the lift during the second lesson. Ha! And Kyle wanted me to go on it first thing! Crazy bastard! We did, however, take a shuttle up to the top of the bunny hill, so we got to go down the bunny hill once. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but it was! It was really challenging, but I was having a blast the whole time. Added bonus: it was gorgeous out!

I didn’t get a chance to take many pictures, so you’ll have to take my word for it.

We’re already planning our next trip! I definitely plan on taking more lessons. I can’t wait!

I found the recipe in a cookbook (so I won’t publish it on the blog), but I’m sure it was the same as any old recipe you could find anywhere. What made it special was the garnish, which contained sour cream, parmesan cheese, and white pepper. I also made some croutons to go on top. It was delicious. Now that I have some extra time on my hands, I plan on trying out some new recipes.

(Pardon Kyle’s closed eyes and my devil eyes.)

(Pardon Kyle’s weird face and my devil eyes… again.)

There is a very unflattering picture of me with our fabulous waitress, but posting it will only draw attention to how much more fabulous a man in a dress looks than me…

After the show the four of us got into various shenanigans, and the night culminated in ordering pizza and me falling asleep on the bed when everyone else was still up. Worse party animal ever! Thanks for the great night Jenn and Shaun! And thanks for bringing a camera, as this night would have gone undocumented if it weren’t for you! (Kyle and I are lame and brought our camera charger, but no camera.)

Over the weekend, Kyle and I met up with Jenn and Shaun in San Francisco. It was a glorious weekend. One of my favorite things I did was relax on our balcony on the 27th floor of our hotel. Sure, we may not have been quite up there with the clouds, but we were at least in the fog!

My feet on the edge of our balcony:

Here’s the view from our balcony:

I could definitely get used to this.