Gus is really not feeling well. I know this because his usual favorite pastime--riding his bike full speed down the hallway and crashing it into the front door--was replaced today by a more alarming activity: sitting silently in my lap for 45 minutes, watching "Kurt Browning's Gotta Skate" figure skating special on tv. And much to Larry's horror, Gus was really, really enjoying it. I think he even cheered a little when Elvis Stojko landed a triple lutz in perfect time to Andrea Bocelli's ludicrous version of Funiculi Funicula. And speaking of Andrea Bocelli, did you know that he is blind? At first I thought he was just feeling the music. Very Deeply. But upon closer scrutiny, I realized, his eyes, they were not bearing witness to the figure skating merriment taking place on the rink below. And oh what merriment! Those pro figure skaters sure know how to whoop it up! Unlike their former Olympian selves, they are now "just in it to have fun." Translation, "They are going to live out their musical theater dreams on your watch. So prepare ye for the horror." A former figure skater, myself, I can admit that there is nothing cool about the sport. (I can also argue at length with my pal Chad about whether figure skating can even be classified a a sport. Yes it can. Can too. Can too.) Last night, Larry naturally chose to walk in just as Kurt Browning was skating to the pinnacle of shame. Dressed like an Italian waiter, Kurt was sporting a waxy little mustache and prancing around the ice to Andrea's way-too-earnest rendition of "That's Amore." Now, Andrea happens to be an actual Italian person. I don't think he even speaks English. And as far as I'm concerned, it's pretty much an act of heresy for an actual Italian person to sing "That's Amore" with a straight face. It's just wrong.
Speaking of things that are both Italian and wrong, it appears that Gus has the beginnings of a unibrow. I pointed it out to Larry, and as if I were an eleven year old boy pointing out the beginnings of my own mustache, he rolled his eyes and said, "that's just a smudge of dirt."
"Nay Pops, look again," said I. "Those there are actual hairs. Hairs that will eventually grow up and become one big furry caterpillar whose sole mission in life is to oversee the blessed union of Gus's eyebrows."
Now that's Amore.
