Levi Stubbs

Levi Stubbs passed away. With him went another part of my childhood. Hearing the Four Tops will always bring back memories of days at the lake and music from the AM station out of Rutland. Unscanctioned nights of staying up past bed time, listening to the tinny sound of transistor radios in the dark with the volume down.

Weekend plans

Another Friday and not a moment too soon! The problem with short holiday weeks is that you tend to have to try and cram 5 days of work into 4 days. What with one thing and another it has been a rather full week and I am looking forward to some R&R.

I may or may not do some fall clean up in my garden, god only knows it is in desperate need. I may also see about taking a field trip to a fabric store, since I need to get some thread to alter a few pairs of pants and Woolworth's doesn't exist any more. And yes, I shorten my own pants. When you have a 27 inch inseam it's either shorten the pants yourself or pay someone else to do it. And I'm French, which is the same as saying "cheap bastard".

I would like to see RG this weekend as opposed to being stood up by RG again this weekend, (hint, hint) so we can hang out, gossip and ogle boys.

All in all, I would like to have a quiet and pleasant weekend, which is why I will try avoiding any discussions about the election, which currently has me using language that would make a pirate with tourette's syndrome blush. The state of the economy, because if I want to depress myself all I have to do is look at the extra poundage around the waist that seems to be immune to both exercise and diet. I don't want to think about all the unpleasant crap that has been dropped into the lives of friends or the nice big stinkin', steamin' heap o' that has landed in my own little life.

So, big plans for the weekend. Laundry, gym, groceries are on the must list. On the possible list of activities are shopping, kaffee klatch, gardening, reading and if the mood moves me, napping.

Come Monday it will be back to bitching an whining. I can hardly wait!

AARP Porn

I was informed the other day by some cute young twink that I look like a porn star. This opinion was unsolicited and really rather unexpected. I am choosing to believe that he meant that I look like a porn star in a hot way and not in some burned out druggy way.

It has made me think though. It could be a whole new career for me, porn starring the over 50 set. AARP porn. Think about it. I'm sure there must be a niche market and with the economy going the way it is, I really need to be looking at every option for employment if my job goes south.

Let's just hope that no one decides to film in hi-def.

Nonna update

I went over to the hospital today to see Nonna. She seems to be doing well, though she's on drugs, so she wasn't her usual ornery self. Still, she seemed glad to see me.

I had to go through a list of people who sent their good wishes, which included the entire staff, all of the faculty, the grad students and a couple of former grad students who are now full fledged doctors and are poisoning the minds of susceptible youth. Especially, my friend Dr. H. but that's a different story.

The thing about Nonna is that she is pig headed, ornery, bossy, opinionated, and can be down right cantankerous. And that's why people love her. She always seems to know when someone needs a gentle hand and when they need a clip in the ear to get them moving. What she didn't seem to know is how many people have come to care about her.

After I got done listing off all the people she knew, I mentioned that people who read my blog were also sending out good wishes for her and she was pretty impressed, by the way Willym, that someone lit a candle for her in Rome!

We are still waiting for the results from pathology, but I think just knowing how many people are pulling for her has done her a lot of good.

Personal space

Thanks, Mr. iPhone Guy on the bus. I just wanted to let you know I am really impressed. The way you sat down next to me and established that your required personal space was one and a half seats, right off the bat. It was masterful. And your balls! They must be ginormous, since you were sitting like you had a basketball between your legs. Wow! No really, it was amazing. Especially, since it's not like you were grossly overweight.

Then when you whipped out your iPhone! I mean golly, talk about letting people know what an individual you are by making sure that everyone within eyeshot saw that you too have what is probably the most ubiquitous consumer item on the market. It just made me sit up and take notice. I said to myself, "Now here is a true individual, a risk taker, not some shallow cretin who has pissed away several hundred bucks on a cell phone and now has to make sure everyone knows that he has the cell phone status symbol of status symbols." No sirree, Bob. I could tell by the masterful way you were fiddling with it propped up on the back of the seat. The proud way you were able to establish for anyone that looked in your direction that you had an IPHONE!

Also there was the masterful way you selected your musical choice. At least 3 times. The things you learn watching other people. I would never have imagined that it took that much elbow action to operate a touch screen. It left me breathless and not just because you kept ramming me with your elbow while you were trying to go through the not particularly complicated menus.

All in all it was an amazing performance you friggin' asshat. What do you do for an encore? Step on old peoples feet and push pregnant women out of your way?

A city bus is PUBLIC transportation, jackass! Not your fucking personal limo. Learn how to confine your stupid ass to your own seat. Keep your goddamned elbows in when you are playing with your dumbass toys and try acting like a considerate adult and not some spoiled 14 year old. Especially since you, like me, will never see 50 again either that or you look like hell for your age. Whatever the case, you're not cute and even if you were, I still shouldn't have to put up with this stupid shit when I am on my way into work in the morning.

Thanks again iPhone guy. I hope someone improves your day as much as you improved mine!

Think good thoughts

If you've read Willym's blog, you have heard about Nonna's. Italian women who will give you advise, mother you whether you want it or not and if they like you, feed you.

At work we have our own Nonna. You have heard me mention her, usually in connection with her making incredibly fattening and delicious treats which she then brings in and feeds me. If you know anything about older Italian women, you also know that you never turn any of these offerings down if you know what is good for you. If my waistline has been in danger, my tastebuds have been very happy.

Nonna has bullied, laughed at and babied me since I have started this job. She is also, my pal, La Simpatica's mom.

Today she is going into the hospital for surgery.

The situation is rather serious, but the outlook is optimistic. None the less everyone at work is very concerned. So, If you find you have a spare minute today, think good thoughts about Nonna. I know La Simpatica will appreciate it and we need Nonna back at work to keep us all whipped into shape.

Nonna update I heard from La Simpatica and it sounds like good news for Nonna. The doctors said there were no surprises and the surgery was going to take less time than they thought. All in all it is sounding pretty good, so with any luck Nonna will be back to keeping us all toeing the line in a few weeks. Thanks to everyone for their good thoughts and wishes.

Todays Rant

I for one am getting a little tired of hearing the Republicans complaining about "East Coast Liberal Elitists".

I grew up in rural Vermont, so all I can really say about that is, fuck you, you fucking, fucktards!

To hear this snotty, self serving, horse shit coming out of the mouths of people like Sarah Palin and her merry troupe of ignoramuses causes my blood to boil.

It isn't even so much the wrong headed assumption that anyone who is within spitting distance of the Atlantic Ocean spends all their time reading Kirkegaard and listening to Philip Glass atonal music. (which by the way makes me want to ram sharpened pencils in my ears just to make it stop) What sends me up the wall is that the implication that anyone who uses their brain for anything more than some extra padding to keep the top of their skull from caving in is somehow the incarnation of evil and is unpatriotic to boot.

I would like to remind all of these good, solid citizens who seem to show all the intellectual curiosity of a curb stone that the country was founded by a group of east coast intellectual elitist. Not by a bunch of the guys who'd decided that a revolution would be a good idea, after a few brews while watching the game on TV.

I also find it more than annoying the assertion that living on the east coast means that you are incapable of as much dumbass as people in the flyover states. I really must beg to differ. I personally have witnessed as much unthinking ignorance, fear of the unknown and aversion to introspection here in the east as I have ever heard about coming out of the midwest. I feel compelled after over a half a century of living on the east coast to defend our local morons. You need only spend a day here in Boston, paying attention to what comes out of peoples mouths to hear as much ignorant bigotry, homegrown piety or just out and out stupid as you would be able to hear in Nebraska, or Wasilla, Alaska.

Therefore, I would like to thank the republican poster child for stupidity, Sarah "the Rapture" Palin to shut her fucking cakehole about East Coast Liberal Elitists. Why should we listen to her? Because she's as dumb as box of rocks? Or is it the idea "You can trust me, I'm an ill informed, ignorant jackass"? Personally, I don't trust someone who is so fucking stupid that they can't even recognize other people who are just as moronic as she is.

Therefore, I would like to urge all of the idiots here on the east coast to vote against McCain/Palin. They are trying to deny you your god given right to be just as fucking stupid as anyone else in this great country of ours.

Under cover

I have been keeping up on the workout in spite of life conspiring to trip me up. Getting on the scales I discovered that I am once again redistributing my weight. While it turns out I have not lost any weight I have noticed my pants fit a bit better, though some shirts are destined for the thrift shop, since they are getting a bit too snug through the chest.

All in all, the change in gyms has worked out pretty well, even though I went from working out in one of the straightest gyms in the city, to what may well be THE straightest gym in the city.

This has been fine. I have not run into any homophobia and to be honest, the guys at this gym have more to worry about from me than the old gym ever did. While there is a good age cross section and probably half the guys that go there are in my age bracket, by and large the tend to go from "in good shape" to "smokin'!".

Which is why the locker room at the new gym sort of puzzles me. I am encountering a lot of modesty. I mean a lot. Like neurotic.

When people head for the showers, I have seen them cover up with towels to take off their drawers. There is a certain amount of furtive scuttling to the shower stalls and people seem to get into their clothes in record time. It all just struck me as a little odd.I have not seen so much concern among guys for making sure that their junk was covered since freshman gym class.

At my old gym people didn't seem to have too much trouble with wandering around naked. As a matter of fact the rule of thumb about the less you wanted to see, the more likely you were to have to look held true. There was of course the exception of my old locker neighbor Kevin, a tall, handsome and incredibly well set up fellow of about my age, who on more than one occasion would get into a conversation with me as I was sitting down to take my shoes off all the while with his rather impressive wedding tackle at eye level with me.

Nothing like that has happened to me at the new gym and people seem to keep themselves as covered as possible. Though the oddest example of extreme modesty was today. There is one fellow who I have seen on the gym floor and to be honest, he doesn't do much for me. As I was exiting the shower, he was coming out of the sauna. He was wearing his gym shorts, but that isn't all that odd. What was a little strange was he got in the shower with his shorts still on. And on they stayed. I was just finishing up brushing my pearly whites when he came out of the shower.

I can safely say now that a pair of sopping wet nylon gym shorts leave nothing to the imagination. I can also say that while this lad may not win any beauty prizes, he has nothing to be ashamed of.

What do they call that....

All was not gloom and doom while I was talking with Doris last night. She had me on the phone for a solid hour and I swear the woman never stopped to draw a breath the entire time.

I suppose she is grateful for the audience since my dad in her words "is deaf as an adder".

It would seem that one of Doris functions at the age of 82 is to serve as a combination clearing house and sounding board for my numerous cousins. I have to tell you, Doris gets into some interesting conversations with the distaff side of the family.

Doris: "You know your cousin (name redacted) got remarried. No? Well, she did. They've moved to ---. Well, I guess she's happy and he seems like a nice guy but you know what your cousin is like. She's happy enough, but she keeps complaining she isn't getting it enough. And then there's this whole business with, oh what do you call it. You know what I'm talking about it's that business where you get tied up..."

Me: "S&M, Mom?"

Doris: "Yes! That's it, well I guess that her new husband just isn't into all of that and..."

Somehow, it is a great comfort to me to know that my 82 year old mother is having racy conversations with her nieces about them getting their kink on. It gives me hope for my own impending old age.

You do what you can

I am thinking about Jane Austen. Aside from the fact that she is one of my favorite authors, I was thinking about a piece of criticism that Eudora Welty wrote where she mentioned that one of the complaints about Austen that some critics level is that while Austen was living in the tumultuous times of the Napoleonic Wars, she barely alluded to them. Instead she concentrated on everyday life in English villages and towns and the lives of the middle classes.

Welty's point was that we always live in unsettled times and few of us play a role in the great schemes of the world and so our concerns are about such mundane things as paying the bills, our relations with our neighbors and occasionally falling in love.

Currently, the economy seems to be falling apart, we are in the midst of a nasty presidential campaign here in the U.S. and we have been involved in a poorly thought out, ill advised and illegal war. I can't do anything about these problems other than fret.

On the personal front, I found out that 2 different friends of mine have cancer, one has had surgery and is recovering before she starts chemo and the other is going in for surgery next week. I can't do anything about this either, other than fret.

Last night I called up Doris only to find out that they have been plagued with trouble as well. First their TV died, then their computer died, the new pellet stove they had ordered to replace their wood stove is sitting on a loading dock because the truckers that were contracted by the stove company quit and then one of my sister's hen houses burned down.

They got a new TV, my cousin is fixing the computer and from what I can gather they have made arrangements about the stove. Once again I can't do anything about that either.

Out of all this mess, there is only one thing I can address. I can buy my sister some new poultry. So, with the aid of the internet and a phone call to Doris to find out if the Bantam chicks can go in with the broody hens (they can't, not enough room) I am going to be buying chickens as soon a the new coop has been built. 25 of them.

Considering the state of the world, it is an insignificant thing. It is not ending war, fixing the economy, curing cancer or bringing the country together. All I am doing is helping out a middle aged woman who I find myself often annoyed with and who I am frequently impatient with, but who has taken on the rather onerous task of caring for my very difficult parents in their old age. Goodness knows that in her world which is even more circumscribed than mine, her Bantams loomed large and their loss was a real blow.

It ain't much, but it is one thing I can do and it's making me feel a little less helpless.

Thank you Neti pot!

I bought a Neti pot today. I had thought I was going to have to scour health food stores and then swallow my pride and give Whole Foods some of my hard earned money. No fear. I was in the CVS (local big drugstore chain in the northeast) and lo and behold they are now carrying them. They even had a store brand one for cheap, so 3 guesses which one I bought.

Now I know you are all just dying to hear me tell you all about flushing out the old snot locker.

Surprisingly, it wasn't that bad. I think I was expecting that it was going to burn and screaming would at some point be involved, not to mention crying like a little girl. Honest, if you follow the instructions, not bad. I don't think it's something I want to spend all of my spare time doing, but I also have to say it has done a better job of clearing out the congestion problem than all the benedryl I've been popping.

I also have to admit, it's kind of gross. Essentially, you fill this little pot that looks like a cut rate version of Aladdin's lamp with salt water, stick it in one nostril and pout water up your nose. Water comes out your other nostril. And my use of the word water is just to spare you a bit. I'm sure you get the idea. Then you get to do the other nostril. Then you blow your nose. Once again, I'll spare you. Let's just say, it's not pretty.

Actually, I have less of a head ache than I have had in days. And I am breathing through both nostrils! Now if we would just get a hard frost to kill off all the friggin' ragweed, I will be able to spare myself this new indignity until next spring when the trees start going at it again.

Age discrimination

I had stepped out to indulge in a quick smoke and had wandered over to a more secluded area than usual, just to get some peace and quiet because working with Excel spreadsheets all day is making my brain hurt.

A minute or 2 later I saw my office mates come trooping out the door. They plunked down and after a few exchanges of shading our eyes and peering dramatically at each other, it was clear that if I wanted company I was going to have to get up and traipse over to them. Which I did.

When I got over to them, they announced that they were lazy. I suggested that they should be ashamed of themselves, because I am pretty much twice their age.

Co-worker 1: Yeah, but you are in better shape than all 3 of us put together.

They all looked at each other and nodded.

Co-worker 2: Shit! You have more muscle mass than all 3 of us put together.

Once again, they looked at each other, this time nodding vigorously.

I suppose I should feel complimented, but I still say they are just plain lazy.

Snot funny

I would like to know what earthly purpose ragweed serves, other than making my life a misery.

I would also like to know where all these allergies came from.

When I was a kid, nothing bothered me. I could roll in poison ivy and I wouldn't break out, for Christ's sake. Now, every spring when the trees are feeling frisky my sinuses shut down and in the autumn, when the ragweed gets going I feel like I need a respirator. Or at least a drain.

Yesterday, a friend told me about a thing called a Neti Pot. I gather that the function of this little item is to pour salt water up into your sinuses and flush them out. I think it will be a good indication of how desperate I am that I am actually going to go out and buy one of these things. And don't make that face! You're not the one that is going to have to use the thing.

For me the worst part is that feeling like someone came in the night and poured concrete into my sinuses makes the act of concentrating next to impossible. Unfortunately, I have a job that requires me to pay attention. What with one thing and another, I have the attention span of a goldfish right at the moment.

I should be looking at the bright side of all this. Considering the state of the world right now, it is probably just as well that I cannot hold anything in my mind much longer than about 5 seconds.

Then there is the fact that this has been screwing with my workout. I am hesitant to go into the gym when I have to worry about dropping a heavy weight on my head.

The light at the end of the tunnel is that this too shall pass. We are bound to get a hard frost soon, which should take care of things for another year. Until then, if my posts seem incomprehensible at least you know I'm not on drugs. Other than decongestants.

Ann and Nancy hand out an asskicking

I generally don't write about politics. Other people do it much better, with more insight and intelligence. Every now and then though, you come across something and you just want as many people as possible to know about it.

I stole this off of Voenix Rising. (Thanks Alex) Even if I didn't have fond memories of Ann and Nancy Wilson from my long lost youth, I would fall in love with them just on the strength of this letter!



Go out and buy a copy of "Barracuda" if for no other reason than to piss John McCain and Sarah Palin off!

I'm back

I apologize for not posting recently. It has been crazy at work and I have also been trying to deal with a few problems at home as well, not the least of which has been sleep deprivation.

The sleep problem has reached the point where Dr. Fred sent me off to have a sleep study done. I will be getting the results in a couple of weeks. In the mean time, Tylenot PM is my new BFF. The one thing that has been ruled out is sleep apnea, since they didn't have to come in and hook me up to a CPAP mask. Otherwise it is all still a mystery.

Autumn has also snuck up on me. I have noticed the days getting cooler and this morning when I woke up it was to discover that you could store furs in the ganome lair. Time to get out those warm layers again! I noticed is that it is once again dark in the morning as I crawl off to the gym. The other morning I noticed the first traitor leaves starting to turn color in preparation to dropping off the trees.

Wasn't it just the other day that the leaves were finally coming out?

Where the hell did summer go?

To cheer myself up, I am going to meet up with RG later and get some coffee and leer at cute young men. It's always fun to spend time with RG mostly because you never know what is going to come out of his mouth. With the economy tanking and the election coming up, I am sure RG will have plenty to say.

Be that as it may, I'm back! Now if I can just get some sleep I may once again be able to string together the occasional coherent sentence.

Cashier update

I was back in TJ's today. I needed to pick up a few things so I set off in a hayfever induced haze, forgetting my glasses and my shopping list this week.

Food isn't even all that appealing right now so my efforts were a little eclectic to say the least. It should make for an interesting week of meals.

When I got to the check out line I got one of the regular cashiers who is a pleasant guy and my friend from last week was at the next cash register. I turned around and told her, "You are totally my hero."

Cashier: Why?

Me: I forgot my wallet last week..

Cashier: Oh yeah! Don't mention it. Actually I was thinking about you the other day.

Me: ?

Cashier: Yeah, I had a bunch of students in with their even more annoying parents. I was thinking "Where is that guy, so he can kick them?"

Me: I'll try and get a few on the way home.

Cashier: Go for the parents (makes kicking motion) they're the worst!

I laughed and thanked her again and headed out the door. Walking home I couldn't help but notice that there are still a lot of anxious parents about. WTF?? What is wrong with these people? They finally have the little monsters out of the house. Why aren't they running around the house naked and getting drunk celebrating? These people really need to get lives of their own and stop living through their children. I won't be at all surprised in the next couple of years if I see people pushing their college freshman around in strollers when they arrive in town.

This country really is going to the dogs.

Week in review

It has just been a fun filled week. Actually, the holiday weekend was pretty pleasant. Relaxing, sorta lazy, sorta busy, not doing much of anything I didn't feel like doing. The only minor low point was that working in my garden Sunday, I seemed to have sprained my hand. Or so I thought.

Monday the hand was swollen and a bit on the throbbing side, so I decided to bag anymore gardening activity for the weekend and met up with my friend C. We grabbed some coffee and then decided to take a walk through Back Bay. We spent a couple of hours wandering around and finally my hand was starting to bother me again and I decided it was time to go home and ice it again.

As we were parting, C. said, "Are you sure it isn't a spider bite or something?"

Tuesday morning the hand was still swollen and throbbing and by now 3 of my fingers were feeling numb, so I emailed work that I was going to try and get in to see a doctor and that I would be late. Such unfounded optimism.

As things shook out, I somehow had managed to get an infection going in my hand from one of the tiny scratches that I acquired during my gardening endeavors and got to spend the day in the Emergency Room, hooked up to an IV of antibiotics. 7 hours later they finally cut me loose.
Wednesday I spent recovering from being pumped full of antibiotics and lay around the house feeling like ass to be honest.

Thursday was the first day back at work and I spent the greater part of the day playing catch up and dealing with the demands of all of the folks that are back now that the new semester is under way. Which would have been a whole lot better if my hand wasn't still feeling numb. Fun, huh?

Friday I realized that it was that time of year for the giant ragweed monster that ate Boston and there was more insanity at work until finally 5 o'clock came and I was out the door

For my money, it is just annoying. I spend a lot of time exercising, attempting to eat right and trying to keep myself relatively healthy and in good shape, so being ambushed by every cold or stupid opportunistic bug that comes my way is getting a little old.

However, looking on the bright side my garden is looking, if not good at least, clean. I managed to get a lot of work done and those things that did survive over a month of neglect that didn't have to be sacrificed in the name of invasive weeds that had so thoroughly entwined themselves around plants that there was no choice but to throw the baby out with bath water. I even went online today and started looking at spring bulbs which is something I thought I would have no enthusiasm for. Actually, my cheapskate Frenchman side got excited about big bag landscaping deals. So far I am looking at 100 Darwin Tulips and some crocus and miniature daffodils. I guess this means that I will be back in the garden next year.

Make Way For Fucklings... again

Another sign that summer is over is that the students have returned to this college town of college towns. This sad fact was brought glaringly to my attention today when I was making my weekly pilgrimage to Trader Joe's.

The streets are packed with students, their over protective parents and various retailers who have their minions out on the streets shilling everything from bank accounts to deodorant.

I managed to fight my way through the bovine crowds to my destination, did my shopping and got to the cash register only to discover I had left my wallet at home. Trader Joe's is a pretty nice place to shop. The service people are friendly and helpful, unlike Shaw's where they are sullen and incompetent and Whole Foods where they are sullen and incompetent with that delightful soupcon of superiority. Anyhoo, the young lady at the register told me she would ring up my groceries while I ran home and fetched my wallet. I told her I'd be back in about 15 minutes. What was I thinking?

More like 25 minutes later, I was back running my bank card through the machine.

Me: I'm really sorry, I forgot about the students being back and you're not allowed to just kick them out of the way.

Cashier: Who said you can't?

Me: I think it's some sort of city ordinance.

Cashier: Oh, you're allowed to kick them out of the way. Especially if they are Berkelee students blocking the sidewalk with their guitar case. If they are with their parents, you get to kick the whole family. You get extra points. (pause) I get to say this now, because I'm not a student any more.

I love shopping in this store.

Pastoral

For most of us, Labor day weekend signals the end of summer, even though we have about 3 weeks before the actual calendar date. Summer means a lot of different things to a lot of different people. Whether they enjoy it, or whether they are just waiting for the heat to end.

In June there is anticipation. Summer is still too lazy to get out of bed and spring often has to fill in a few days still. July and August tend to come roaring out, blasting us with long hot lazy days. Whether I get to indulge or not, I always think of picnics and cold beer and days from my childhood that lasted forever and ended too quickly.

I also have certain songs that say summer too me. Mostly old songs from my misspent youth. Bruce Springsteen's "Thunder Road". Aretha Franklin singing "Freeway of Love", or "Chain of Fools". Pop tunes from Motown and Phil Specter that used to play on the old Emerson in monaural sound in the 60's when I was still a little Ganome. Songs from the 70's when I was first testing out my wings in the wider world. Donna Summers, "Love to Love You" and later "Bad Girls" and "Last Dance". Hot summer nights dancing at the A House in Provincetown, where they would end the night playing Connie Francis, "Where the Boys Are".

One piece of music that just says summer to me is Beethoven's 6th. Small wonder, since it is suppose to describe a summer walk in the country in music.

I did not come to classical music until I was a young adult away from home for the first time, living in the the city which has been my home for 33 years now. I was introduced by the new friends I was making, who taught me I could love Donna Summers and the Tramps and still make room for symphonic music and opera. I am eternally grateful. Many, far too many really, of these friends are no longer here. Casualties of AIDS. If they are now physically absent, they are still with me when certain pieces play. However, the 6th doesn't have any specific personal memory, I don't hear it and think, "Oh, So and so loved this piece!". It just makes me think of the pleasures of summer.

The Niece is full of awesome

I have mentioned on more than one occasion that the Niece is full of awesome. Right now, she is so full of awesome that my head may explode at any minute. She got tickets to see Duffy!

That's right, if anyone in the lower 48 states did not hear the high pitched, adolescent girl scream this morning, I am going to get to go hear Duffy in October, because my awesome niece is even more full of awesome than even I could imagine. And I can imagine a lot of awesome when it comes to the Niece.

In case no one has caught on, I am pretty excited.