Tag: Michael Jordan

A Night With Farrell and Vered

Farrell is the person who gave me my first fulltime job on television We have been friends nearly 30 years.

It’s 11:52 PM. I just realized–nothing posted. Uh oh. I’ve prided myself on blogging every day, really, I just forgot! Missing today could have been forgiven. As I tweeted earlier (replicated on Facebook) “I assume if I drank this is what a hangover would feel like.”

My own gluttony was rejected by my body!

My friend Farrell and his wife Vered were in from Palm Springs to visit his mom. They invited me to join them for dinner at Michael Jordan’s Steakhouse.

geoff-farrell.jpgConsidering everything I’ve heard about revenues being down I was surprised to see the restaurant was plenty busy, but we went right in with our 7:30 reservation.

Farrell is the person who gave me my first fulltime job on television We have been friends nearly 30 years. In that intervening time he has lived all over the world. Vered is from Israel and very ‘international’ as well.

IMG00020-2.jpgThis was a huge meal! I had the Lobster Chowder (Applewood Smoked Bacon, Maine Lobster, Brandy Cream) followed by MJ’S Delmonico Steak with Balsamic-Ginger Jus and then split a dessert with Farrell–23 Layer Chocolate Cake.

Maybe I should stop eating for the rest of the week!

I was surprised on leaving the complex to be stopped while leaving the garage. Police were stopping cars, checking seat belts and alcohol. Saying “I don’t drink” always works in this situation. Having the officer then call you by your first name doesn’t hurt either.

The New Way to a Man’s Heart

Helaine and I have been married 20 years. Whenever that comes up in conversation, I say she’s going to kick me out any day now… as soon as she wises up. But, of course, I love her more today than the day we married and think the feeling is mutual.

I’m mentioning that to set the stage for what happened between me and another woman earlier today. It is as far as I would ever go with another woman, and I think Helaine understands.

I went to get my hair cut today. Before the clipping began, I had my hair shampooed. Oh!

When I was a barbershop kind of guy, years and years ago, I’d go in and they’d cut my hair. That was simple. Now, even though I’ve normally washed my hair myself within the hour, I take part in the shampoo ritual

A towel is wrapped across my shoulders. I lean back in the special hair wash chair. I insert my neck in the little notch cut into the hair wash sink (originally designed for guillotines, no doubt). I close my eyes.

Nirvana.

Bernadette was in charge of my follicles today. First some hot water at needle strength through the nozzle. Then the shampoo. The Bernadette massaged it in with her nails. Did I say “Oh” yet? It deserves another – Oh!

As soon as she’s finished… as you begin withdrawal… more lather. She’s started over – following the lather, rinse, lather again, instructions.

If there is a better feeling you can get without being sexually involved, I haven’t found it. I might wear my hair like Michael Jordan’s if I could get a salon shampoo every day.

It used to be said, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach., No more. The way to a man’s heart is through his scalp.