The French cocktail waitress, Florianne, is unbearably hard on herself, becoming nearly reduced to tears after simple gaffes that are language barrier related and predominantly irrelevant. One of her more amusing malapropisms is that, whenever she has a cash payment she urgently requests "Matt, will you please change me." I've attempted to explain that such an act might create a bit of a stir, but poor Flo still isn't quite sure what I'm talking about.

In other international news, Ikohiro (or Ike, as we have taken to calling him, in a nod more to South Park than Eisenhower) managed to get himself arrested last night. (Oh, the Park Hyatt gossip travels fast...) Poor schmuck was out at a bar and decided to help out by driving some people home. Problem one: he doesn't have an American driver's license. Problem two: he was drunk as a skunk. Problem three: the Eagle County police found neither problem one nor problem two amusing and promptly carted him off to jail. Welcome to America, Ikohiro.

Current temperature in Edwards, CO: -15 degrees.

Had an older couple in today that should have been sipping Mint Juleps in the antebellum South. It wasn't that they were old--mid 70s, I would guess, but they just had the aura of being from a different era. The woman told me a story about how she used to spend 30 minutes making her own Bloody Mary mix, and how everyone had a recipe whose secrets were zealously guarded. I don't know if it's possible to feel nostalgic for something you never experienced, but speaking with her made me long for the days when everyone wasn't prepackaged, from Bloody Mary mix to personality. Our increasingly flat world, as Tom Friedman characterizes it, leads to amazing transparency but also unfortunate similarity. A Starbucks in Bangkok produces the same Cappuccino as the Starbucks in Brooklyn, and I'm not even remotely convinced that this is a good thing.

Well, we finally got the big storm we've needed---about 2 ft. of snow. I got up for a few hours today and was literally in powder past my knees. Another dead bar shift, although an Olympic gold medalist passed through, which isn't something you see every day. (from France, I forget his name) I actually had a guy come in and order several Grasshoppers today, and between that and the Frank Sinatra playing I really felt like I was slinging drinks in the 50s. Random tangent: Speaking of Grasshoppers, it made me think of one of my favorite scenes in The Muppet Movie, when Kermit walks into a bar after having a fight with Piggy and orders a Grasshopper. Low and behold, on the DVD version of the film this scene is omitted due to Disney's fears about having the famed frog drink. C'mon! It's one thing to ruin Star Wars by having Greedo shoot first and digitally adding Hayden "Limp Fish" Christiansen, but messing with my muppets?!? Oh, the humanity...

We finally are getting the snow we have been desperately needing late tonight, and with any luck we will have 6" by tomorrow. Today made me realize how much I'm actually going to be able to ski this season---even though I slept in until around 10, I was able to get a solid few hours on t he mountain before going into work. It was a bit surreal as the conditions are quite icy so I had the mountain essentially to myself. The resort is totally dead right now making "work" little more than watching Monday Night football for 3 bucks an hour, although I did get a group come in and drop $300 on Scotch. Also had a few members of the Austrian ski team--they are in for the World Cup events being held at Beaver Creek this weekend. I'm hoping to try and catch some of the events--I hear its unbelievable. (They ski ~85 MPH)

Goldens, Goldens, everywhere

But not a one that's mine... Honestly, its been some sick joke how many dogs in general and goldens in particular I've seen since I've been out here. After my first day skiing at Vail, I nearly skied into one coming down after my last run. I saw no less than 3 just running out to get a sandwich. And, on the employee bus down the mountain yesterday, I spent the entire ride across from a 5-month old. In addition to making me miss my dog like crazy (its been over a year, but I'm still waiting for the joke to be over) it has really made me want to have a dog. (Missing having my pooch specifically and having a pooch generally are distinct, if related, emotions.) Then again, the people who I spent Thanksgiving with (friends of Jon and Meg) have a dog with cancer, and talking with them made me remember how totally fucking miserable the process of losing Caramel was. It's definitely God's perverse sense of humor that man's best friend would have a life expectancy so much shorter than a human. And, given the way I feel about most dogs vis a vis most humans, logic would dictate the life expectancy should be the other way around. Supposed to get a massive snow today or tomorrow, and we sure need it. Hoping to motivate and get on the mountain before my shift tomorrow.
Today was torturously slow---its been feast or famine thus far.

Holiday Photos

As promised, here are some photos of Halloween and Thanksgiving. Click to zoom in.


Ava, as her alter ego Sassy Cat, flanked by Meg and myself, with Jon and Meg's friend Carolyn in the background. Check out the feet.The three kids spontaneously decided to beat the hell out of me with their bags of candy.
Tofurkey Day-- Ava and friend Elise holding Ava's sisters Charlotte and Lilah.
A tiger with a cellphone. Enough said.

I knew there would be a day where I would have my "Cocktail" moment and have my lunch totally handed to me, and that was today. I woke up in Denver at 6:45 AM, got some face time with a very cute and very hungry set of twins, and then embarked on my second 15 hour shift in the past three. During lunch I am responsible for all the drinks for the outdoor restaurant, which is huge. (side note: whoever started the notion that Bloody Mary's should have olives in them needs to beaten to death with large chunks of pimiento. It's just plain wrong. Sort of like mayonnaise.) Dealing with the restaurant is one thing, but today I got two tables of 10 people wanting to order full lunch from me, and predictably chaos ensued. On the bright side, I finally made some money, and have plum shifts next week. (Sun-Wed, 3-close, meaning I can sleep/ski during the day) In the evening the resort had its Christmas tree lighting, which literally drew hundreds of people, so the night shift was crammed as well. I realized I take for granted how helpful 22-years of English is. I think that I can get overwhelmed, but when someone says "Crown and Ginger" or even "Coors" I actually know what they are talking about. Florianne, my incredibly sweet French cocktail waitress, (before you ask, she's taken, by another Frog named Ben. Bitch of it is, he happens to be a very nice guy.) was nearly driven to tears tonight by the insanity, and there was precious little I could do. All right, my redbull has worn off, so its beauty sleep for me. Its funny, I keep wondering whether I will meet some people, but between all the social interaction at work and time I want to spend skiing, I wouldn't be able to find time for friends outside work if I had them. Very excited to scale back starting next week.

So, I made it down to Denver today (in record time, I might add) and got to spend Thanksgiving as one should--with family. Great to see Jon, Meg and their litter as always, and particularly nice to be with fam as this is actually the first Thanksgiving I haven't spent in Cleveland. Ava, the three year-old, is adorable as always (once I plied her with presents to overcome shyness) and being absentee uncle is really a good gig. In fact, it has made me quite certain I want my sister to have kids---all the perks, none of the diapers, and when they get annoying, you can leave. That being said, I did have quite a marathon game of "Hunter", mostly involving me, as "Mommy Bambi", hiding under a blanket or table while Ava took great pains to protect me. Of course, even if she was across the room, the moment I let my feet slip out from the table I was hastily reprimanded for subjecting myself to such great danger. Four years of undergraduate theatre training at Northwestern, and I'm reduced to playing "Mommy Bambi". Forty grand a year to good use, if you ask me.
It's a bit hokey (I'm a softie at heart, after all) but their really is no more instantly rewarding feeling than having an infant smile for you. I even busted out a hearty rendition of "Hush Little Baby" for Charlotte, although I must say my lullabye repetoire is a bit thin. I'll try and upload some photos tomorrow. I hope everyone is enjoying their tryptophan hangover, and remember not to massacre any helpful and well-intentioned neighbors in honor of the pilgrims.

Well, I left my apartment at 9:30 Wednesday morning and got back around 2:00 A.M. Thursday, working a marathon 15 hour bar shift. I was only supposed to be on until around 7, but Ikohiro, who was supposed to take over has such a poor command of English and general lack of knowledge (e.g. he doesn't know which coins are dimes) that I stayed to ensure he didn't burn the place down. I actually would feel really bad for him if he wasn't so frustrating. "Can you get salt and pepper" is like a 15 minute conversation with him. On the bright side, I have tomorrow off so I get to spend Thanksgiving with my cousins and their kids. (three daughters--one is 3, the other two are 6 months) I also think I've ingratiated myself to my boss due to my general awesomeness/competence, so my schedule for next week should be scaled to the part-time hours it was originally supposed to be. (note: for those of you who know me you will realize that the preceding sentence, which could be viewed as smug, is actually a delicate combination of smug, sarcastic and self-deprecating) Despite the long hours, I am actually enjoying the bar tending piece of it---although I have to bite my tongue every time someone orders a chocolate martini. Its fairly amusing how often I'm doing something so stereotypical I feel like I'm part of a Billy Joel song (No Madorsky, not Captain Jack) It is also interesting how people are so overwhelmed by you just being a nice guy and doing your job. Even though I was closed, I let some people use the pool tables while I cleaned up, and they practically called the Vatican to being canonization procedures. Time to pass out, Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Have you guys been following this Michael Richards thing? Cosmo, how could you, after all we shared....

Things are getting interesting over at the Park Hyatt. The mountain opens tomorrow, and we actually got a decent crowd for lunch. (people sure do love their apple martinis...) The chief to Indian ratio is so skewed that almost nothing gets done, and I have been truly amazed by how disorganized things are. One example: I inherited four people to help me polish glassware because they had been scheduled to work at a bar that is under construction until next week. It doesn't help that none of my three supervisors seem to like each other, and the amount of petty dick-fighting between them is fairly high. On the bright side, I showed up to work today to find out that one of my colleagues, Damon, had been fired. Normally I wouldn't take pleasure in another man's pain (or at least admit it publicly) but this was a long time coming. In addition to being a lazy S.O.B. who didn't do any work on the rare occasions when he showed up, within five minutes of meeting him he produced a photo of his most recent "conquest." And he had a mullet. Always a good warning sign ladies, avoid the guys with mullets who carry pictures of the female anatomy in their wallet. Remember, only YOU can prevent forest fires.

I'm really getting frustrated with Studio 60. I desperately WANT the show to be good---I think the cast is generally terrific, although the Harriet character bugs me, but thus far the show has been nothing more than lots of pretty words. Sorkin's intensity of dialogue just works a lot better when talking about a pending nuclear crisis than whether or not to do product placement. And all the pretty words can't make up for lack of discernible plot. All the self-referential humor about the Eastern intellectuals is getting tiresome too. Hopefully they will get back to the basics and give the very interesting characters something correspondingly interesting to do.

After two days of nonstop skiing at Breckenridge, it's time to drag whats left of my legs to bed. Beaver Creek opens tomorrow, so hopefully there will be plenty of people to ply with my $16 martinis.

A Big Day

Everyone should be very impressed that I actually motivated myself to get up at 6:30 this morning to go to Breckenridge--which meant I would be unable to watch the Browns-Steelers game. I believe this to be a major turning point in my emotional development. Speaking of emotional development, it's probably best we not discuss aforementioned Browns game for several weeks, lest I sink into irrational and immeasurable despair, doubtless stealing Sudafed in order to produce crystal meth in a vain effort to numb my sorrow.

The response to this initial foray into blogging has been varied and quite entertaining, but the winner for both best and most prescient response is clearly Jali, who writes: "I am hoping that your blog becomes a drug and alcohol-induced haze of META rambling on life with the occasional sober emergence and subsequent bemoaning of your True Hollywood Story-esque life. Please...please?"

I'll do my best Jali, I'll do my best.

New Rules

I watched the season finale of Bill Maher tonight, although this show would have been more appropriately title "Mr Dreyfuss' Opus" as the actor hold court on the importance of reinstituting civics. Maher always ends his show with a series of comedic "New Rules", and after watching a protracted debate about the responsibility of the media in choosing what to report, I've decided to add one more rule to Maher's list.

New Rule: We have to stop blaming everyone but ourselves. It has become very posh to do a lot of finger pointing, and there is certainly plenty of blame to go around for all that is wrong with our nation. The President, for leading is into the Iraq Quagmire, the Democrats, for a general lack of both spine and alternatives, and the media moguls, for placing a higher importance on revenue than journalistic integrity. But the fact of the matter is that a republican democracy works only if the citizenry holds its leaders accountable and demands answers. Instead of wasting time whining about the press and the stories it chooses to cover, we can simply refuse to watch yet another Laci Petterson story. Maher's comment that when aromatic food is placed in front of us we cannot resist eating it reduces us to the role of dogs with the media as our masters. I am probably more knowledgeable about politics than the vast majority of Americans, yet I can name more members of the Cleveland Browns than the U.S. Senate. Yes, the media should be held to a higher standard, but that does not excuse the general public from having the right and responsibility of being informed citizens.

Maine- The Way Life Should Be

I made it over to Vail today for the first of what I hope are many ski days. Picture perfect day and I actually felt better than I thought I would, though I stuck to Greens and a couple of easy Blues. What's terrific is that I was able to ski for 4 hours this morning and then go into work later in the afternoon. Needless to say, my body isn't used to working this hard, so I'm going to go pass out, but before I do here are some photos Tony finally sent me from what I hope will be a recurring and expanding trip to Maine. Click on the photos to see a larger version.

Striking our best Album Cover pose at Pemaquid Point
Max and myself
Ben the Lobster at Shaw's Wharf
Putting Tony in his place on the dock
Enjoying the Lake

The Phenomenon of Borat

Given the tremendous amount of press it received, hailed by many as the funniest comedy of the year, yet decried by others as the most anti-Semitic film every made (Leni Riefenstahl, anyone?) I decided that I needed to see Borat and make a determination for myself. I'm not familiar with Sacha Baron Cohen's other alter ego, Ali G, nor do I find films such as Jackass entertaining. That being said, the first thing to know about Borat is that it is funny. Gut bustingly funny. Horrifyingly funny. (I may not be able to have a sexual thought for a solid month without wanting to vomit.) It is "Can they really do that?" funny to the highest degree. It is also profoundly disturbing for a variety of reasons. David Brooks wrote an Op-ed entitled "The Heyday of Snobbery" in the Thursday New York Times. In it, he states that "the genius of Sacha Baron Cohen's performance is his sycophantic reverence for his audience, his refusal to challenge the sacred cows of the educated bourgeoisie." Brooks points out that Cohen knows his audience, making fools out of gun-toting homophobic hicks, while side-stepping any attempts at "ridiculing the pretensions of somebody at a Starbucks or a Whole Foods Market."

It is indeed a flick that causes those of us who "get it" to have a terrific time laughing at the fools who don't. In this manner, it caters to "blue America snobbery, as people on the coasts try to fathom those who would vote for George W. Bush. The only logical explanation is that they are racist, anti-Semitic idiots who can be blamelessly ridiculed" One of the the Democrats major miscalculations (and there are oh so many to choose from) was to dismiss Bush and his cronies as country hicks. Say what you want about Bush, but he has proven to be an incredibly shrewd politician, and the part of me that finds Cohen's portrayal of so-called middle America hysterical is the same part that foolishly and egotistically dismisses those who don't like Cappuccinos and the Whole Foods olive bar.

The flip side of this equation is the fear that the laughter heard throughout the theater was not out of appreciation for Cohen's satire, but of an agreement with his absurd positions. (One early scene features the Kazakh capital's yearly "Running of the Jew", and the Jew is listed as one of Kazakhstan's three major problems. Cohen himself is actually a devout Jew.) I have doubtless become more sensitive to this in the past week, as the only thing that seems to unite the melting pot of the Park Hyatt is disparaging remarks about Jews. The problem with Borat is that if I am not laughing out of an intellectual elitist sense of superiority, I must be laughing out of racism or homophobia. Perhaps it is a bit of both, and perhaps the problem is not with Borat but with me. Indeed, Cohen would argue that the point of his film is in part to ridicule the absurdity that anyone would hold the views the film puts forth. I'll leave the societal nuances and implications of Borat to the likes of David Brooks, but suffice to say that it has been quite some time since a film made me simultaneously laugh and think as hard as Borat.

Let's Do the Time Warp Again

Between full-tilt Hyatt-izing (we did skits...we had acronyms...we never want to relive the cesspool of wasted time and money that was Park Hyatt orientation again...ever.) and the logistical hassles inherent in getting a new place set up, tonight was pretty much the first night I could bother to be social. I decided that, despite my better judgment, I would attempt to do this social thing people speak of, and went to see Borat (more on that later) followed by a birthday party for an Aussie at the Eagle Bend apartments. Eagle Bend, about a 7 minute drive away, is where the majority of the Hyatt employees live. It had everything your dear writer had grown to hate about college (with the exception of about a 50/50 American/Latino split)---indeed, I felt like I had stepped into a time warp to 2002, albeit with "Hips don't lie" blazing in the background. The good: Ikohiro, my Japanese bartending cohort slamming Smirnoff Ice and exclaiming, in broken English, "this party fucking awesome" followed by a declaration that we were soul mates by virtue of both being 22. The bad: the 35-year old guys who have been here for five years and still get a kick out of this sort of thing. The ugly: Cops showing up due to an obvious lack of anything better to do. Honestly, I felt like I was back in High School, minus John Goheen. I nearly got into it with the cop who wanted to prevent me from driving out of a misguided power trip (I had consumed all of two beers) Thankfully, I decided discretion was the better part of valor, but I'm not sure how much energy I have for this sort of thing. Hopefully a few people will emerge. Did I mention that I hate dancing? On the bright side.....well, one must preserve a bit of suspense. First ski day of the season tomorrow!

What's in a Name?

So, why on earth would I choose to name my little slice of cyberspace after some moldy fruit? Funny you should ask. (And if you didn't, shame on you) It all began in 1961.... when a funny little Jewish guy by the name of Mel Brooks had gout. Brooks complained to his friend Carl Reiner that he felt like a 2000-year old man, Reiner asked him what in the name of Moses that felt like, a tape recorder appeared, and, voilà, one of the most hysterical series of radio humor in existence was created.

My father, with his odd (read: Jewish) sense of humor, exposed me to this stuff at a very young age in the form of a 1975 cartoon. Go watch a clip from it here. Go on, it won't bite you.

So what in the name of Gilbert's Grapes made me think of this as the title for my blog?!? Here's a mildly absurd answer for you: I have a tendency to over think things, and ignore what I really want (the wonderfully symbolic nectarine) for what I think I should want, or for what other people think I should want (that damn ripe plum). If I were really stretching, I also might try and wax eloquent about the fact that sometimes in life all you want is a ripe nectarine, but that surly fruit vendor only has rotten ones. You can either go a day without nectarines (the Eighth Deadly Sin) or suck it up and enjoy what you can get. Too much? Did I mention that I also have a tendency to imbue far more significance than I should to zany Jewish comics? Hell, I needed a title, Mel was there for me. Just be grateful I stayed away from anything too pretentious. And do yourself a favor and buy the CD or DVD. You'll never look at Saran-Wrap or Paul Revere the same way again. "I guarantee it"

Introductory Email

N.B. This is the e-mail I sent out introducing the blog. If you got that e-mail, you've read this. -Matt

Hi, all--
First off, as always, sorry for the mass e-mail. You are getting this e-mail either because you were on my South America trip e-mails, or because you were unceremoniously and foolishly left off that list, and I've since learned from my heathen ways. You are also getting this e-mail under the assumption that you have some moderate interest in whether or not I'm presently in a federal penitentiary. If that is not true, feel free to delete this e-mail and return to the epic game of Solitaire you were doubtless playing.

Still here? As many of you know, I can be stubbornly iconoclastic when it games to modern means of staying in touch. I hate Facebook with the irrational fire of a thousand suns, and have sworn off the IM crack. That being said, I wanted to give people a way to keep tabs on me, an have a way to keep in at least relative touch with all of you. My South America e-mails became rather....unwieldy....both to write and I'm sure to read given my tendency to blather so I'm moving to another format. That's right, I'm entering the world of the blogosphere. I'm going to try and post something every day....some days it may just be a random quote or amusing anecdote, other days might get full-fledged Ratner prattle. I'm basically going to play it by ear and see what works. Some important things to know about the blog: much like the trip e-mails, it is serving as a way of forcing me to chronicle my experiences. This means that it won't be nice, pretty and sanitized. (Three words I tend to associate with myself...right after sarcastic.) Your opinion of me will doubtless plummet if you read the blog, so do so at your own peril. Also, if you are reading it, e-mail me and let me know. I actually like the vast majority of you (except that damn Tony Senagore kid...) and am doing this in large part to keep in touch with you. Along those lines:

If you are a recent college grad and switching from your college e-mail, let me know

If you have recently left the world of the living and will not be receiving e-mail in the Nether world, let me know

For those of you who don't know, I decided after graduation that I was just a bit too fried to pick up and move to Argentina, although its still something I would love to do at some point. With the encouragement of my parents, I decided that all of my internal pressure to figure out what to do with my life was bullshit and it would be far better to just start living it. I had been a halfway decent skier about 6" and 100 lbs ago and had always wanted to to cement that skill. I had also taken a bartending course that I really enjoyed about a year ago. Combine the two, and a plan was born. I ate a flan to finalize the plan, and then in August went out to Colorado interviewing for bartending jobs in the Vail Valley. I'm still not quite sure how, but I got one at the Park Hyatt in Beaver Creek, and moved out to lovely Edwards, CO about 10 days ago. I've been living an Orwellian nightmare of Hyatt brainwashing since then, but am about to emerge (relatively) unscathed. We had our first big snow the other night, and its absolutely beautiful here. Also, for what its worth, I had to take a two bedroom apartment and have both a very comfortable AeroBed and fold-out couch. More on the new digs and job later, but I think you brave souls have soldiered on long enough.

Most importantly, the blog can be reached and bookmarked at The Rotten Nectarine Yep, I made you read the whole e-mail just to get the link. What a schmuck!

I hope everyone is doing well---do let me know how life is treating you.

All the best,
Matt