I know you are all celebrating my (temporary) absence from the blogosphere, but I want to interrupt your revelry with this update: My computer has been having seizures. I mean this literally, I start it up and the monitor image begins to distort and "shake". It also occasionally won't start up at all, but rather turns a brilliant hue of purple, followed by an odd morphing into other colors. No, I'm not on acid. It also occasionally talks of wanting to "Phone Home" and going to a farm with lots of rabbits. I suppose that is what I get for naming it Hal. In any event, it won't work for more than five minutes without shutting down, making blogging a pretty futile effort. (This is attempt 4 on this post) I managed to convince Dell to send me a new computer, which, according to them, should arrive somewhere between 7 business days and three years from now. So, provided Hal doesn't bludgeon me to death in the interim, I should soon return to my hallowed place in your web browsing history, just after Mauritanian Frisbee Golf highlights.

Sarah and I definitely didn't sit in my car in the parking lot drinking Scotch and listening to Hakuna Matata at full blast. That's far too ridiculous, even for us. And, there most certainly aren't pictures documenting the event, seeing as it didn't happen.

My computer has been even more spasmodic than usual lately, and my Dell technician, based in the Phillapines, informed me that the problems I was having with my computer were "weird". Definitely worth the 30 minute wait for that penetrating analysis. Go Dell. They finally gave up on me, and after three years admitted I got a lemon. The good news: this means they are sending me a new computer. The bad news: this means I can't justify getting a sexy new computer and switching over to Mac. It'll be a week until I get it, so my blog posting may fall off a bit. (I know, you are all heartbroken)

In less than a week, Jack's back. This really means far more to me than it should. Jack Bauer could strangle you with a cordless phone. Is it Sunday yet?

Perfect conditions today so I skied the Men's Downhill course a couple of times from top to bottom. Actually skiing the thing, it is even more absurd to realize that the racers fly down it at 60. Celebrated Chanukah with the fam at my apartment tonight--lots of fun, and, as usual, some incredibly thoughtful, fun, and zany gifts. Sarah documented the event quite well, so I'll try and post some photos at some point. One of my favorite parts of quitting was that I had to sign a form stating I wouldn't set foot on Hyatt property for 60 days. Apparently, they think I'm a loose cannon. Then again, they may have a point. After 3 straight full days of skiing, I need to pass out in the worst possible way.

Well, two big items today: On a glorious powder day, I skied my first double black (admittedly, groomed, but nonetheless) and I quit my job. The job thing is a saga I don't feel like reliving, but it has definitely been brewing for a while. To be honest, it probably should have happened a bit ago, but I wanted to give it a far shake. At least it was a bit gratifying to have the HR people make every effort to keep me. Walking into the HR exit interview was like a scene right out of the Office. "Thomas, I really feel you should attend the HyStar dinner as it is in your honor, and it would send a really bad message if you didn't go" [Thomas is silent for a few seconds] "We are going to have steak." [Thomas says "I like steak. I guess I'll go."]

I'm definitely a little bummed the job thing didn't work out--I really tried hard to line up a good situation, and was very comfortable with the bars. That being said, it made no sense to be miserable for the next four months for no reason. My plan is to take the next few weeks and enjoy myself (the week my parents are in and the week following) and then start hunting around for another PT bar gig where they treat the staff like human beings.

Mom, Dad, and Sarah arrived safely today, and, as always it was great to see them. Also, as always, chaos nearly ensued. We are all pretty zany incredibly wonderful people, and mange to bring out each other's zaniness in ways only a family can. Within minutes of their arrival at my apartment, the keys manged to get locked in the rental, leading to profane outbursts and Dad trying to break into the car with a coat hanger. The other classic exchange of the evening occurred over a late, not so great meal of generic "Asian". My mom exclaimed "I think I am having an aneurysm" to which my oh so sensitive father replied "Does anyone want coffee?" I must admit to taking some measure of satisfaction watching Dad covet all of my sexy ski stuff. We also may or may not have killed a baby, but I'm not permitted to speak further on the subject.

Oh, and the place we are staying in (I'm staying with them) has an African drum. Really.

Commentary of the night award for tonight's Spurs-Cavs game, paraphrased for your pleasure:

Austin Carr: Like I said earlier, the Cavs started getting defensive stops and that led to energy at the offensive end.
Kevin McLeod: You're clairvoyant as usual, A.C.
A.C: [laughs oddly, trying to figure out if he knows what clairvoyant means, and whether it was a compliment or an insult.]
[long pause, A.C. still trying to figure it out, gives up]
A.C: Defensive stops, offensive production [loud thunk as McLeod slams head against desk]

All right, so it was a heck of a lot funnier live, and no where as good as anything that comes out of Bryant Gumbel's mouth, but it amused me.

My parents and sister are coming in tomorrow for about a week, so I decided it would be an opportune time to clean my apartment. Of course, I decided this still not feeling great and at about 1 a.m., (after impulsively making pancakes-and no, I wasn't high.) which meant that my brain thought "cleaning", but my body thought "drop two bottles of wine on the floor before you start cleaning for the added challenge" As usual, the body won.

To bed before an a.m. meeting with my boss that should be...interesting...

I really have always loathed New Years. A whole mess of people getting loaded to blot out all the horrific things they did last year. Or, conversely, getting loaded in order to get a head start on all the horrific things they will do this year. Besides, I don't need an excuse to get drunk and do things I'll regret the next day. Happy New Year, everyone!!

All right, I'm (almost) done with the misanthropy for this post. In all seriousness, a happy and healthy to everybody. Not surprisingly, my shift ended up getting prolonged so I worked from 2 p.m. to 3 a.m. on New Year's Eve without a break. I was also the only bartender with any background in the bar, as our other bartender was a Brazilian who usually works in room service and hadn't been behind a bar in 3 years. A really nice guy, but still, it was a touch overwhelming given that I sold $6,000 worth of drinks. On the bright side, I managed to make about $600 in tips despite the lousy service given as a result of being chronically understaffed. Other highlights included the lady who spent ten minutes telling me how dirty she liked it (her martini, I assume) and the lady who called me Joaq the entire evening (presumably because she thought I looked like Joaquin Phoenix. Conversely, I could have misheard her, and she could have been calling me Guac all night because she thought I resembled an avocado.)

After finally getting home around 4 a.m. I proceeded to vomit for the next hour in the hallowed New Year's tradition---unfortunately, not due to any revelry but rather due to an incoming flu. It was definitely one of my more interesting New Year's, and I suspect more drama to unfold in the days ahead. Stay tuned.

My cousin Eric Shafran lives in Denver but has a place up in Beaver Creek, so I went over there last night for Shabbat dinner. The last time I had seen Eric, I suspect I was wearing Batman underoos, so it was nice to connect. (And yes, that could well mean I saw him last week---don't judge my underoos, you know you are just jealous.) I had a very nice time, and it also reminded me that whatever misgivings I may have about organized religion, there are several aspects of Judaism that are really rather appealing. Now, don't worry, I'm still a cynical bastard who thinks our life after death consists of being an amuse buche for earthworms. However, the notion of setting aside one day a week to slow down, put aside the frenetic pace and concerns of weekly life and focus on what really matters (family) is something we got right. I also hadn't sat down with family (or anyone else for that matter) for Shabbat dinner in who knows how long, and I realized that I actually do miss it. Of course, you can't beat a Shabbat where you talk about "Lazy Sunday" directly before benching. (For the older readers: Lazy Sunday is a recent SNL skit. For the Goyish readers: benching is grace after meals) It will be interesting to see if Judaism is something that becomes more important in my life as I get older, given how strongly I feel about it on one hand, yet how ambivalent on the other.

Thankfully, I am scheduled to work tomorrow night so I at least get paid for having to deal with the inanity that is New Year's Eve. I am of course traumatized that I won't be able to spend another Dec. 31 at the Velvet Dog (not a euphemism for some sort of sexual and/or drug exploit, but rather a bar in Cleveland). I sure will miss the overweight shirtless man with the scrolling LED display hanging around his chest that read "I Wanna Lick Your Nipples." Ahh, memories.

It's 3:30 in the morning, and by all rights I should be sound asleep. I'm obviously not. Why? Could be the lack of heat in my apartment. (again.) Could be the fact that I've blitzed through the entire first 2 1/2 seasons of The Office over the course of three days, including a solid 4 hours tonight. (Speaking of which, I am finding myself overwhelmed by a burning desire to encase the valued possessions of my bosses, friends and family in Jell-o) But the real reason I'm awake is that I have to finish a list I have had weeks to prepare, and that I need to have to my father by 9 a.m. EST. I even managed to procrastinate by having fun today---skiing for a few hours at Copper Mountain in a blizzard, then rendezvousing with cousins Jon and Meg for a drink at a Communist Bar and awesome gourmet tapas with their friends Joe and Carolyn. (not kidding about the commie bar---hammer, sickle, lots of red, stripper pole. what more could a lonely pinko want?) Back to what I'm so successfully procrastinating--the list. It is a list of the possessions I would like to have from my grandma and grandpa's house. My dad and his three brothers are meeting tomorrow with the unenviable task of figuring out who gets what. Now, I've been putting this off for two reasons. Reason One: I know better, but I can't shake the incredibly tacky feeling I get treating the cherished possessions of my grandparents as my own personal eBay. Admittedly, unlike eBay, rather than reselling the items within week I plan to keep them and hopefully someday give them to my children, or at least a niece, or failing that at least a genial hobo. Still, it feels icky. (scientific term) Reason Two: As excited as I am that Jon and Meg are moving into the house, that house has been the focal point of my larger family life for as long as I've lived. Not only do I miss Grandpa and Grandma like hell, but I miss those times like hell. Friday night dinners, cherry pop, watching Pat dump an entire tub of liquid butter on the scalloped potatoes...I learned a lot in that house, both good and bad. I learned how to beat Super Mario Brothers 3 by getting both whistles, and I also learned what happens when you eat an entire platter of asparagus. I also learned that people get sick and don't come back--you know how some images, for whatever reason, are seared into your brain? Hearing about the JFK assassination? Where you were when Edgar Renteria beat the Indians in the '97 series? Well, when I was 11, I remember my grandfather starting to cough and not stopping. I remember my mom taking me away from the table to the upper part of the dining room, and explaining to me that grandpa was coughing because his health was failing. When I asked what it meant, she said it meant he wasn't going to get better. And she was right. Things change, people get older, people die, new people are born, the lion eats the gazelle and Simba inherits the kingdom. In theory, as life marches on it brings new challenges and new excitement. And that is true. But, as my father says, when you look around a room and all you see are ghosts, it is hard to see the new challenges through the fog.

I bet they are having one helluva game of pinochle up there.

Random nice thing of the day: (admittedly, nice thing of yesterday, but what the hell)

Just as I was closing the bar two nights ago, a young German tourist came in wanting a margarita. I made it for her, and she was very apologetic about being unable to give me a tip. (She only had a 10 and the drink was 9.90.) The next day, she came and found me (no small feat as I was working in a different bar) and gave me a 5 dollar tip.

I managed to work in not one, not two, but three different bars yesterday (including the aptly named Ice Bar--kind of nice, actually, limited supply so I actually get to tell people no. As in, you want Shiraz, too fucking bad, I've got Merlot. Insert Sideways quote here. Allright, fine, I'll do it for you. I'm not drinking fucking Merlot.)

I started watching The Office, and the girl who plays Pam is a perfect example of the importance of personality. While by no means meeske (sp?), she is also no Jessica Alba. But her manner is so totally charming she is made much more attractive. There are also plenty of girls who might be nice to look at, but once you see them open their mouths, or talk to a waiter, it is game over.

Yet another long, frustrating day at the bar that is not worth rehashing. (The actual bar tending/client interaction is great, it is everything/one else that is problematic) I also officially hate mojitos, they take for bloody ever to make, especially when the bar is packed, which it now is pretty much all the time. One amusing note about the level of communication: The boss of my bosses boss (the Food and Beverage director for the whole hotel) quite a few days ago and no one bothered to tell us. It's a shame-he was both competent and a decent guy, which has proven to be an unusual combination. Two characters for my upcoming feature film/sitcom/Ken Burns documentary: 1. The Brazilian who found it hilarious that I knew and used the Spanish word for clown, and insists on saying it and chuckling every single time he sees me. 2. The Indian who has absolutely fallen in love with one of the Brazilian girls, and hounds her simply by pronouncing her name endlessly with a maniacal puppy-dog twinkle in his eye.

I was really hoping to be able to ski during the days before work, but when I don't get to sleep until 3 or 4, it makes that plan kind of difficult. Somethings gotta give. [token movie reference]

Worked in the lobby bar today, which, although less my kind of place than the bar I typically work in is definitely a better gig. Even though it is markedly busier, because you have 3 cocktail waitresses, and don't have to deal with the myriad of other random stuff my bar entails, its actually less work. More time spent making drinks, less crawling around on your hands and knees trying to get the fire to work. Had a guy come in today ordering $65 cognac, only to ruin it by requesting a splash of Frangelico (a hazelnut liquor) in it. Yuck. Also had a lovely family of three who were really irked they couldn't buy me a drink, and proceeded to leave me a 50 percent tip. Thought I was going to have my lunch handed to me today and it really wasn't all that bad---with the exception of managing to break a key in half.

This week finally worked out like they have been supposed to! Working the right hours, got out skiing four times, then a quick trip to Denver to see Jon, Meg, et al for the last night of Hanukkah. It was nice to spend the last night with them, especially as this is the first time I haven't been home for the holiday.

I took a lesson on Friday and my instructor decided it would be a good day to test me out on some black mogul runs. Needless to say, by the time I made it down to Denver I was dead. As always, Denver was quite fun--I really don't know where Ava gets her energy. In no particular order, some of the cute moments:

--After lighting the candles, Ava, in the midst of running around completely overwhelmed by excitement blurted out "family hug family hug" A genuine "aww" moment--and oddly nostalgic, as its was/is something my sis and I did/do.

--Jon and I crawling around on our hands and knees being mommy and daddy cat while Ava bossed us around. She later decided to put us in a bowl of soup and cook us I blame the cannibalistic instincts on her being raised a vegetarian. The look on Meg's face watching aforementioned interaction was pretty good too

--Jon being used as the pretend litter box for Ava's feline alter ego to repeatedly pretend defecate on, and his exclamation that "I just LOVE being a litter box". Don't advertise that one, buddy.

--Taken Ava sledding on an absolutely gorgeous day today. 3 year old. Sled. Nuff said.

Going to hit the hay with the vain hope of getting some hill time in tomorrow before work. We'll see how that goes. Also, for the record, Ursula is still freaking scary.

I know what you were all thinking. Two days without posting, maybe he's fallen off the wagon, maybe I'll finally be able to stop wasting my time reading about Ratner's life and waste my time doing something more productive, like Pong. Alas and asunder, no such luck. I couldn't post two days ago due to the internet being down, and couldn't post yesterday due to passing out. (from exhaustion. and crystal meth.) We got hammered by a blizzard the past few days (made national news) which meant I got to spend two days at Vail with my new skis. (Admittedly, I just really like typing "new skis" because it reminds me of how sexy they are.) This most elemental day was definitely exhilarating--and hard to describe. The snow was so thick that you could barely see the terrain ahead of you, and between that and the powder you really had no concept of the gradient of the hill until it was underneath you. Adding to the experience was the general paucity of people (who would be nutty enough to be outside?) in the back bowls. (More trees than people is always a good thing.) The only issue was that, apparently, some of the markers that point out hazardous terrain blew down, and I very nearly skied off of a 10 ft. rock ledge. That would have been bad, m'kay? Quick tangent--I may be a bit oversensitive, but when they decided to name the restaurant at the top of Vail's gondola "The Eagle's Nest", didn't they realize that name was already taken? Vail should unveil (no pun intended) their new mascot, Goebbels the Gopher, any day now.

Three other random anecdotes from Wednesday:

It's a shame I'm not a screenwriter because I have enough characters for 8 movies after a little over a month on the job. My favorite Wednesday was the 12 year old from Texas who, when ordering a cherry coke, gave me his best Stifler look and said, "how about a little Captain Morgan with it this time?" Smooth kid, smooth.

The mercurial nature of the service industry also never ceases to amaze--I got a $6 tip on a $60 tab, and 10 minutes later got a $20 tip for bringing the pool balls out for someone.

Finally, I walked into HR Wednesday and someone asked me the name of my "hot girlfriend" When informed that I had no girlfriend, hot or otherwise, she insisted that a coworker had seen me with some gorgeous lady. If you are reading this, hot girlfriend, you are clearly lost and/or misplaced. Give me a call (you should know the number) and I will be happy to pick up and/or rescue you. Sincerely, Matt Ratner

The only thing I can say is that I wish I had something to say. I admit that I was hoping this blog could go back and forth between "journal" type entries and pieces of a more Op-ed nature. Obviously, of late, I've been so wrapped up with work, that the blog has been entirely the former. With luck, that should change beginning next week. Slowish night today, which was sorely needed, although we did find out that Hyatt has determined Ryan can no longer work as a bartender. What this does to my schedule remains to be seen. Saw Tom Vilsack on The Daily Show and was actually relatively impressed- at the very least he is articulate and has a sense of humor. It will be hard for him to pick up much traction over the heavyweights, but he would make an interesting VP candidate.

Where to begin? Today, well, it was quite a day. Started off promising enough--fresh powder to break in my brand new, incredibly sexy skis. (It was snowing basically the entire day, and very large, beautiful flakes.) Things turned ominous when the chairlift I was on broke down for 20 minutes, followed by my slipping on some ice and taking a fat loss on cobblestone, messing up my knee in the process. Bar got hit pretty hard for a spell, and I got to go back in time again thanks to the old lady who ordered a Stinger. The problems really began when a very nice couple (let's call them Jane and John) came in towards the end of the evening. Their serenity was interrupted by three tipsy Germans. One of the Germans (Klaus, for argument's sake) was feeling a bit more sociable than John, and when he informed John that his wife was quite beautiful, John, who hadn't had a drink all night, snapped, got in the German's face and said "if you say another motherfucking word I'll smash your face in." It wasn't encouraging that John was about twice my size, and I was lacking my tranq gun. Jane and I were able to get John to leave, with his Jane explaining that "he's a really nice guy, but he's a police officer so he has a quick temper and gets violent." Hmmm. What's wrong with that picture? Now, I had already decided that my German friends would not be having more than one drink, and when I refused to serve them more I was offered a 20 to look the other way. Having none of it, I gave them their bill, only to turn around and find that they had vanished, leaving only half of the money they owed. Thus, at midnight, I got to chase three drunk Germans around in the snow, finally catching up with them trying to bribe their way into another bar. Just another day at the office.

Another interesting day at the ranch, aside from my second busiest day thus far. As previously noted, the Eagle County Sheriff's office doesn't have much to do with their time. Unfortunately, this meant that yesterday they sent an underage girl, in the company of a 45-year old man, around to the bars. My co-worker, Ryan, who has been a bartender for 5 years, served her a beer, at which point the police officer smiled and essentially said "You're screwed". It's unclear what the ramifications will be--at the minimum Ryan has a $500 fine and a court appearance- he could be stripped of his right to serve for 6 months. He also faces Hyatt discipline- I wouldn't be shocked if he was terminated. Poor guy, he looked totally ashen today. He also won't be working any bar shifts till this is resolved, meaning my "part-time" status may be somewhat problematic. It also means I have to work in the lobby bar venue the next two days, which is a zoo anyways, plus I'll be working without a service bartender. I'm preparing for chaos. In case you are scoring at home, in the five weeks I've been working here, we have one bartender fired for blowing off shifts and allegedly trashing a Denver hotel, one with a DUI, and one caught serving minors. Go team!

War on Christmas

At around 1 pm today, I was overwhelmed by the desire to jam cocktail picks into my eyeballs. The Browns weren't playing, so the only logical reason for this urge was that our music in the bar changed over to "Holiday tunes". When I go into a bar, there is nothing that makes me want to drink and be merry more than Frosty the Fucking Snowman. After the third rendition of Jingle Bells in an hour, I realized what I am really in for working at a resort over the holidays, and that I truly cannot stand Christmas. Not to mention ALL the Whos down in Whooville, the large and the small. I really don't think this is about me being Jewish, although there is a certain, how shall we say, goy-ishness, to the whole thing. If I had to listen to "Dreidel Dreidel Dreidel" 8 bazillion times in two weeks, I would probably hate Hanukkah too. And, I know the Salvation Army is trying to do good things, but enough with those damn bells already. That is probably curmudgeonly enough for one post---so I will admit I think the white lights are quite pretty.

Also, further proof that Cleveland Rocks!

An interesting impact of the regularity with which I'm posting the mundane events that currently comprise "my life" (cue Billy Joel) is that I have managed to make myself totally superfluous. Out for drinks the other night, I realized that every story I began to tell, my buddy had in fact already read thanks to this website. This means, of course, that it is possible to be completely clued in on the happenings in my life without ever actually having to converse with me. And the peasants rejoiced! On a related note, it means you all know far more about me than I do about you. I was talking to a friend tonight I hadn't spoken with in over a year, and while I didn't know where she worked, she was probably well aware that I had a tasty rib eye the other night. It is a sort of curious phenomenon.

Big week coming up work wise---after the schedule for next week is posted on Saturday I'll know whether they are (finally) going to accommodate the hours I've said I would work, and if not, I'll be looking for a new job. The pace this week is also going to be comparable to what it will be the majority of the winter, and if it is so hectic that I don't enjoy myself, I will also be seeking other means of gainful employment.

Sarah had to have her surgery delayed due to the qualms of an anesthesiologist, but was able to have it today. (On her birthday, what fun) She is officially thyroid-less and recovering--the surgeon said all went very well and she should be home tomorrow. Huzzah!

The other night Madorsky informed me about an interesting issue as regards the relative size and girth of the Indian phallus. The issue being that, apparently, their penises are too small for condoms. Being a skeptical sort where Alex and penises are concerned, I googled for myself, although, admittedly, a touch nervous as to what hits such a search would yield. Lo and behold, he speaks the truth; you can read the article yourself here. Madorsky, I should never have doubted you. Steven Colbert is going to have fun with this one.

Have you ever encountered old-world racism? You know, the kind where Grandma adamantly asserts she isn't racist, its just that black people...fill in the blank. When my Grandma would make these comments, it used to make my blood boil, but lately I've come to realize change is not a viable option, nor is greater self-awareness, so far better to just bite my tongue and frantically apologize to whomever she may offend. Today I had taken lunch over to her apartment, and, after being chastised for my lack of a girlfriend, (I believe, "What the hell is your problem" was the exact quote. Thanks gram.) I commented that she had noticeably more pictures on display of my sister than myself. Grandma's rejoinder was "and they are all crooked. That must have been Bert [her black housekeeper]. Have you noticed black people always put things on funny angles." Yes, ladies and gentlemen, my Grandma truly believes that setting pictures on angles is a racial issue! Hell, I suppose it is progress that didn't use a more racially charged term.