Today “CE” asked how the trip to the Gardner was. Well, it was great. Kyle was a trooper and was so patient as Dad’s work pals sauntered around with their heads on a swivel, trying to take it all in. He enjoyed seeing “Omnibus,” a painting by Anders Zorn in the “Blue Room” that we have a print of in our living room. Thank you, “CE.” In the end however, the boy’s review of the visit was concise: “boring.” After a couple hours of gawking and a leisurely break in the museum café, we were all off to dinner at Barb’s.

Now, “dinner at Barb’s” is not so much dinner as it is choreographed theatre showcasing cuisine. It’s kinda like “Martha Stewart meets Patti LuPone.” I mean, it’s very Dali-like. The drinks certainly help creating a surreal atmosphere, but dinner at Barb’s is always very cool. The colors, candles, Barb’s decorating style and her A/V requirements are out of the ordinary and always interesting.

While Nat “free-styled” drinks of various colors and proof, her husband Rod and I stared at the greenish hue of Barb’s new plasma TV with dumbfounded looks like Beavis and Butt-head might have if they flipped to say, the Dr, Phil show. Since we’re both guys, we felt a physiological need to fix the big unit, so we kept unplugging and re-plugging wires until suddenly the green hue was no more. Having reaffirmed ourselves as men, Rod and I sat triumphantly as food and drinks were served to us by our A/V challenged admirers. Oh, and even though Kyle didn’t do squat, all the women think he’s cute, so he was treated best of all. Hell, he even got a bling-bling blinky-flashy glass from Rainforest Café.

Anyway, the food comes in waves like eye-popping floats in the Tournament of Roses parade. Here’s some of that annual annoying parade commentary:

Annoying Guy: “Oooooh….here come the meat skewers… Oh, and look at the colors in that salad.”
Annoying Gal: “You know, all the salads at Barb’s are made with real vegetables…”
Annoying Guy: “That is amazing!”
Annoying Gal: “Oh, my…here comes a crowd favorite… Alaskan King Crab Legs… Look at those legs!”
Annoying Guy: “Yeah, they’re nice, but I’ve always been a breast man. Hey, willya pass the buttah?”

In all seriousness, Barb knows how to treat people. Any guest at her house is made to feel special. They matter to her; each one in a unique and special way. It’s akin to a company understanding and meeting the unique needs of their individual customers. It’s called “customer satisfaction,” but it’s simply about how people are treated. It’s the people that matter; in business and in life and Barb always seems to exceed their expectations.

So, what’s the “customer satisfaction” of the people in your life?

Two Words: Babe Ruth… Hands down. The Yankees have had some great ones over the years… Gehrig, Joe D, the Mick, Joe Pepitone… and then there are the contenders from other clubs… Mays, Clemente, Hammerin’ Hank… All of those gentlemen excelled at the plate and a few of them even had the “five tool” thing going. What sets the Bambino apart from the others statistically is that in addition to his 714 home runs and .342 career batting average, the man won 94 big-league games (20+ twice) as a pitcher and had a career ERA of 2.28! At one time, he also held the major-league record for consecutive scoreless innings in the World Series.

Last week I caused a bit of a row with some Yankee faithful by suggesting Mr. Ruth may have achieved his great fame illegitimately. My hypothesis was as follows:

“It’s a well known fact that back in the 20’s and 30’s, the Babe’s nutritional staple was Nathan’s Famous Hot Dogs. What is not so well known is that Nathan’s injected their cows with steroids. The sheer volume of dogs provided by the Yankees and consumed by the Babe provided him more steroids than those used by cheaters Giambi and Sheffield combined. So, in short, the Yankees coerced the Babe into hot dog gluttony and in fact, began the steroid scandal that still plagues the game today. Oh, and the Babe didn’t “use” when he was with the Sox. Fenway Franks are, and always have been, steroid free.”

I was only kidding! Jeez. Nathan’s are great! I enjoyed a couple when I visited the shrine in the Bronx in 2003. Man, Yankee fans can be so sensitive. I mean it’s as if they haven’t won a championship this century or something… Hey, they always have their great history… OK, OK… that’s enough Yankee bashing. I’m sorry, but I just can’t help myself. I’m one of those pathetic Red Sox fans “who cannot talk about baseball without skewering the Yankees.”

Let’s get back to the “Sultan of Swat” and his undisputed legacy, shall we? Beyond the statistics, Babe Ruth the man was adored by millions. Legendary Detroit Tigers broadcaster Ernie Harwell said of Ruth, “He wasn’t a baseball player. He was a worldwide celebrity, an international star, the likes of which baseball has never seen since.” What I didn’t realize was that he was also a great philosopher of life. Here’s a quote that has meaning well beyond the diamond he so thoroughly dominated:

I know it’s early, but it’s still fun to see the Yankees come stumbling out of the gate 1-3. Last night they lost to the Angels of somewhere between San Diego and Los Angeles. Alex Rodriguez, who never got the ball out of the infield in four at-bats, tried to explain the club’s plight and maybe help them from feeling um, squeezed. “When they give you lemons, you’ve got to make lemonade, and when they give you oranges, you’ve got to make orange juice,” Rodriguez said. “Tonight, we tried to make tomato juice out of lemon juice or something. It just didn’t work out. I don’t know if that’s a good quote.” No, no… That was good. Thanks.

The Sox magic number is 157.

Roller coasters are terrifying, but I like ‘em. You gotta have the stomach for them. There’s that anticipation as the sleek machine climbs to some insane height exceeding 200 feet or so. Then, the riders up front get to peer into the abyss while the rest of cars slowly finish the climb. Just before the real fun begins, there’s that little queasy feeling that tells you, “try to enjoy this, cuz you’re not getting off.” Once the last car reaches the apex, that’s when the shit hits the fan (and in some cases, the BVD’s). That’s when the cars plunge toward the ground at speeds approaching 80 miles per hour and everyone screams like they’re having fun.

Well, that queasy feeling is one I got today when I read this. By the time I could say “what the…,” the “COR” was already in freefall, and I had no choice but to “enjoy the ride.” Oh, I was able to snap a picture of the carnage. Here’s what a terrifying ride looks like on Wall Street:

Recently an earnings report of a restaurant chain in the South got me thinking about just how glamorous the Tar Hut years were. I mean, we were record executives, dammit. Where were the groupies, the hookers, the blow? Other than the time Dave and Jeff badly mistreated the bathroom* (and anyone in it) at the Four Seasons in Austin, we really didn’t live the high life. Our road trips to Austin were low-budget affairs including dining here and lodging for 3 here. Now I’m not going to get into the “who did what to whom” thing, but the fact is, neither Jeff nor I were willing to sleep with Dave, so Jeff and I slept back to back for four long nights one year. Yeah, that double-bed was a “no-spoon” zone that didn’t include Dave… No wonder we always had Maker’s Mark with us… that, with two sides and a roll.

* There were several “bathroom incidents” involving Jeff and Dave, including one alleged episode when they simultaneously suffered gastro-intestinal distress right after seeing Sandra Bullock while eating at Hut’s Hamburgers. Listen, I couldn’t possibly make this stuff up, and since this is a family blog, I’ll stop right there.

It’s back! “M” reports that “Love Monkey” has found a new home on VH1! They will air three previously seen (on CBS) shows back-to-back on April 11 starting at 7:00, followed by five weekly installments Tuesdays at 9:00 beginning April 18. However – no new episodes have been ordered…

Still, I’m pretty excited and so was Jeff when I told him…

That’s almost 4 ½ months to train for the Falmouth Road Race. The last time I um, ran it was 1983, and my race preparation consisted of a chocolate covered donut handed to me in a moving vehicle as I awoke after a night of partying. Yeah, I slept in the luxurious back seat. “Here, you’re gonna need this,” chirped Tom Murphy as he commanded his vintage late 70’s Chevy Impala, nicknamed “the Millenium Falcon.” “Huh?” That was about all I could manage as I attempted to quell the queasiness forming slowly like a tropical storm in my gut. “We’re running the Falmouth Road Race!” We weren’t official entrants of course, so we waited by the side of the road near the starting line as the gun blasted and thousands of runners, joggers, plodders, and us, the dregs, followed the elite sprinters out of Woods Hole. I won’t go through the grueling mile by mile call of the race, but suffice to say, I ran some and walked some. The legs were there, but from a cardio standpoint, I wasn’t. After about 4 miles of relatively flat track, the last half mile includes a very steep hill up Falmouth Heights Road to a sharp left turn where the bright, glistening ocean appeared. The combination of heat exhaustion, alcohol and a chocolate covered donut converged and I joined several other misfortunates draped over the guardrail all calling out to the infamous “Ralph.” After giving my all to nature’s porcelain bowl, I turned to see it was only about 200 yards to the finish line and that the time read sixty-something. My goal is to finish the 2006 race in less than 60 minutes. I have my work cut out for me and the goal is “out there,” but the effort to reach it will have long term benefits.

I was going to call this the “Daley Double,” as in two posts. Get it? Instead I’m going to use a nickname some schmo gave me when I worked as a waiter some 25 years ago. So, Spring is in the air, and an young man’s thoughts turn to love, right? Yeah, whatever. There’s no love in sight for me, so I’m thinking about art. Tomorrow Kyle and “Twice” Daley are meeting some folks at the Isabella Stuart Gardner Museum for some art n’ stuff.

I recently read a nice little article by Samar Farah, a Boston Globe correspondent, on how to get more out of the art museum experience, and for you fortunate readers, here’s a summary.

Wow. In an incredibly ironic twist, Mr. Farah interviewed Alan Chong, the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum’s curator of collection! Maybe we’ll see Al tomorrow! Anyway, Mr. Chong’s big theme is to simply enjoy the time. “Don’t turn a trip to a museum into serious education.” He believes the experience should be more about what you feel and think while viewing the art, rather than the historical facts about it. So take your time, relax and just gaze. Think about the pieces you like and the ones you don’t. Mr. Farah’s article suggests you ask yourself these questions:

• Why do I like this?
• Why is my eye drawn to certain shapes or forms?
• Why has the museum placed this painting next to these mosaics (or other work)?

Mr. Chong, who’s favorite piece in the Gardner is “Death and Assumption of the Virgin,” adds, “It’s important to trust yourself. At the end of the day, it’s about your own eye, your own taste, your own set of questions.”

5. Stick your ABC gum on a painting.

4. “Hey, where’s the beaker of piss with the crucifix in it?”

3. Stumble around drunk near priceless vases.

2. “Oh, is that the dude that cut off his ear?”

1. “I could do that.” No, you couldn’t. If you could, you would have… ass-clown.