If you've got it, flaunt it

...You've got your work cut out for you Jame.

I challenge you readers to find someone with longer lashes than "Trouble". Booh-ya Mars.

A Heartwarming Work of Staggering Genius

I was first introduced to the brilliant author and editor Dave Eggers a few Christmases back when I received The Best American NonRequired Reading from one of Egger's steadfast followers and the McCabe family member and witty artist himself, who displays his adoration of literature through the annual gift giving of books.

Since that revolutionary year of St. Nick, my Egger collection has catapulted (which, in Dana terms, is equivalent to tripling in size - comprising my entire top row of my 5th grade-sized bookshelf) and I have become alarmingly attentive at the mention of his ongoings, if only to relay the deets to Scott. On 09.26.07, Egger will be visiting Berklee's Performance Center in Boston in support of his newly launched writing center, 826 Boston, an extension of his first, 826 Valencia in San Francisco, opening in Roxbury this month. If you have time, I recommend checking him out. Annddd if you have even more time and enjoy writing, the center is in need of volunteer tutors.
Now there's the ad bit I was going for.

Stampact Challenge

A Ftorek tradition that all began with cousin Sam's wedding in 2003 was revisited the other day by a more intimate yet distantly-related group. Under usual circumstances the Stampact Challenge will arise at a large family event, such as a wedding or a reunion. More recently, however, members of the family (particularly Anna and I) have been challenging friends to compete and possibly break Sam's record of one hour and 17 minutes.

Saturday was the fateful day. Corliss and myself vs. Warner, Skwar and Daly. After borrowing 5 pairs of retired sneakers from Wendy and clan, Rob, with sincere intensity, recited the rules and gave us the run-down before we were on our way. The idea, for those unfamiliar, is to grab a canoe, paddle out to Stampact island, less than a half mile from shore, and proceed to race around the island (which we calculated later to be 2.5 miles around) with one foot in the water at all times. Sounds harmless enough until you reach land and realize that the water is chest-level in most places and the bottom of the lake is covered with rocks, which would explain the scattered, vary-sized welts and scrapes on your legs.

Team Corliss and Dana finished at 1:27 while Warner and Skwar (who had a 'man down' as Frank would say) were being blown off course for the next 30 minutes. The wind and the waters may have been unfavorable that day or the competitors may have been a bit hungover but who's to know? Strategies are underway for next year's face-off as we speak and hopefully we can get some other Ftoreks and McCabes in the mix as well.

***Another birthday shout-out is an order at this time. Chris Corliss liss liss liss (that'd be the echo factor people). The big quarter century mark. Oh, how they grow up so fast! Happy birthday C-Bear.***

Jro to Jho. Hell of a season.

A couple weekends ago some of the Fairfield girls witnessed our first friend take the plunge. J-Ro, as most of us know her, is in the know-how when it comes to throwing a legendary wedding-weekend blowout. Prior to the big festivities, however, there was some concern about J-Ro taking on the Scottish hubby's name. Could J-Ro be dropped all of a sudden for J-Ho (or Jen Hornby for the more mature)? Matters were quickly resolved. It can't be done... And there was much rejoicing.

The ceremony took place in the gardens of the Lincoln family estate in Arlington, VT with a surreal mountainous landscape on all sides. Lize, Noel and I faired well with our readings, improvising with delayed gestures and exaggerated winks to win over the audience. Needless to say, we were then familiar enough characters amongst the sea of J-Ro's relatives that we were able to skip the repetitive introductions. Whew. And onto the dance floor. Here's where things got a little hairy (and I'm not just referring to what the Scottish groomsmen had in store under their quilts for us). The electric slide was performed to a multitude of songs, why should it be constrained to only its self-title? the bride's mother and her friends did a lil diddy about liverwurst (naturally), the bar acquiesced to doing shooters one hour before closing, and Lize wound up with her feet off the ground for the last 30 minutes of the reception. Some chose to go to a lake house where the groomsmen were staying and others, namely me and Shannon, unintentionally called it an early night and crashed at the Cutleaf Motel, which after night one had inherited the nickname "the Cut-throat".

And when you think your body can't handle any more punishment.. you fall back on your go-to undergrad drink, vodka-180's. The following night the party picked up on cue but in J-Ro's frat-like basement (who's the dude with the pony?). While Noel was minding the bathroom floor, Jessie K and Mrs. Rochette were minding their pole dancing manners. Clearly I'm not one to stand by (even though it means clearing out the dance floor)..."I just want to DANCE".

A good time was had by all but in the end I'm thankful that I have time to prepare before wedding season truly strikes.

*** But before we depart, let us take a moment to wish Liana, my sista from anotha motha, a happy happy birfday!! May you wear Bird's # well.
It'd be a lie if I said I don't feel like dancing to celebrate with you but looks like we'll have to wait this one out. Cheers L-diggity!***

Dance your pants off

Chris Burke, of the band Staff Johnson, will be performing next Thursday night, the 16th, at, you guessed it, Copperfields. It's a guaranteed night of cheap drinks, dance-your-pants-off music and endless comic relief. Unfortunately the ginger on the bongos will not be granting us with his presence but you never know what Burkey's got up his sleeve. A guest appearance on the harmonica by Aymer (all the way from England)? Wouldn't be the first time. In any case, come support our fellow local musicians, and brain tumor research at the same time Thursday evening.

Here's a jingle from State Radio who has recently added a new member on the drums and back up vocals, Mike Najarian, former Staff Johnson drummer:
Camilo

And a Burke classic to whet the appetite:
Haiti

Burkey will also be jamming with a buddy this Friday at the Sweet Water Cafe in Boston for all the non-Fairfield folk around this weekend (as opposed to the FU group who will be attending Jro's wedding in VT).

Nantizzy

Lbowe, Skwar, Doyle and I had a girl's venture to Nantucket last weekend, a place where you would only find a McCabe if one of his/her good buddies were to choose it as a wedding destination or if he/she has the option of leaving a downpour wave in the stix for some resocialization and a little beach action.
















A few daiquiris into our first night, an investigation-what was to become an ongoing quest throughout the weekend- was undertaken: Is it possible to find a guy wearing both a whale belt AND a gold chain (and by chain I'm referring to a substantial Piece sported mostly by the North Shore born and raised)? Our conclusion: The data points to implausible. But if one breed were to convert, the chain wearer would most likely be the switch hitter.

In the end, no whale belts were purchased (and naturally no chains to be found on the island) so no harm done.

Maine: the way life should be

So here I am. Just around the bend at the 2nd white barn, beyond the ladder supporting itself against a half-cut tree, past the squashed frogs decorating the dirt road, around the vacant corn field and to the left of the lone yellow tractor.
I guess this is what you can come to expect when you apply for a "rural community health rotation" in Maine. And I love it.

I'm renting a lake house, which is actually situated on a pond in Sabattus, ME. My roommate has transformed this cottage into a pimped out bachelor pad (stainless steel appliances, massive flat screen tv and don't forget the hot tub), save for the bear and moose figurines scattered throughout the house to remind us we're surrounded by woods.

4 days out of the week you'll find me at Sabattus Street Primary Care working under the supervision of an internist and in the company of two 22-year old newly engaged medical assistants (I just might be the only single and/or childless person over the age of 20 in these parts). Although I've only completed my first year of an NP program, the physician treats me as though I'm already a practicing nurse practitioner. In my first week, I've given several rectal exams (my apologies to my first patient for haphazardly giving myself a tour), administered a steroid injection to an arthritic patient, performed a pap and done cryotherapy on a patient's junk. An exciting week all in all.


Cousin Kevin McCabe, from Waterville, had his all-star game Friday night that ended in a huge victory for the East. Kev, never having kicked a field goal before and effortlessly nailing them consecutively throughout the game, is now convinced that he is going to be a kicker in the minor league soon enough. More power to you Kev-o.

Also, had some Beantown visitors over the weekend. We hiked up a rather minuscule hill called Bradbury Mt., hit up the Lewiston area dive bars, tested the local pond water and sat around in the non-hot hottub. The highlight of the weekend though would have to be the neighbor's water trampoline with inflatable tubes perfect for gladiator dueling. Either no one was home or some dude was sitting inside with his buddies making a few bucks. Now that's a disturbing thought.