Ryan Byrd’s Ramblings

This is how I feel about the royal wedding:

backcountry.com sent out a marketing email yesterday with the title, “Mother Nature hates you. Deal with it.” This clever correspondence came immediately after more than 280 people were killed by violent weather across the Southern United States over the past two days. Hundreds of homes were destroyed in six states. One million people were without electricity.  So, yeah, backcountry is sorry that your grandma was squashed by a tornado-thrown refrigerator, Alabamians, but just deal with it, mkay?

Well done, backcountry, well done.

Happy Easter to Me.

It’s also Friday, Friday. (obviously)

Which is what makes this the perfect time for a little game of notable first lines:

• If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.
• It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents, except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the house-tops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.
• Aujourd’hui, maman est morte. Ou peut-être hier, je ne sais pas.
• In the last years of the Seventeenth Century there was to be found among the fops and fools of the London coffee-houses one rangy, gangling flitch called Ebenezer Cooke, more ambitious than talented, and yet more talented than prudent, who, like his friends-in-folly, all of whom were supposed to be educating at Oxford or Cambridge, had found the sound of Mother English more fun to game with than her sense to labor over, and so rather than applying himself to the pains of scholarship, had learned the knack of versifying, and ground out quires of couplets after the fashion of the day, afroth with Joves and Jupiters, aclang with jarring rhymes, and string-taut with similes stretched to the snapping-point.
• 3 May. Bistritz.—Left Munich at 8.35 p.m. on 1st May, arriving at Vienna early next morning; should have arrived at 6.46, but train was an hour late. Buda-Pesth seems a wonderful place, from the glimpse which I got of it from the train and the little I could walk through the streets. I feared to go very far from the station, as we had arrived late and would start as near the correct time as possible. The impression I had was that we were leaving the West and entering the East; the most Western of splendid bridges over the Danube, which is here of noble width and depth, took us among the traditions of Turkish rule.

High Five!

Today is the beginning of Passover, which is when God decided that he liked Jews more than non-Jews. You see, the Jews were captured and enslaved by the evil Egyptians and even though God sent a bunch of nasty plagues to the gentiles, the dumb idol-worshiping Pharaoh didn’t get the message. That’s when God decided to enlist his band of destroying angels to kill all the first-born children.

Here’s the thing, destroying angels don’t have good Jewdar or night-vision, so unless there is a clear sign, they’d run a muck and murder everyone’s children. שומו שמיים! That’s when Moses decided to smear blood over the Jews’ doorposts as a secret “don’t slay here” sign. The tactic worked and only the correct infants were slain. Exasperated, the Egyptians let the Israelites go free. It was time to get out of Cairo. Immediately after, however, the crazy pyramid builders changed their minds and came charging after the fleeing Jewry. That’s when Charlton Heston parted red sea to drown the Egyptian army with their chariots of fire. And that’s why the Egyptian people overthrew Hosni Mubarak. Are we clear? Good.

And that leads me to competitive eating. In Exodus 12:11 it describes the eating of the passover meal, “and ye shall eat it in haste: it is the lord’s passover.” Jews have been speed-eating ever since. Fast fact, Takeru Kobayashi, world hot dog eating champion, is suspected of having a Jewish nanny and can down matzo (unleavened bread), like mad Arabs are on his tail.

Now you know.

Two minus signs is nerd-speak for losing a point and that’s what happened to Tyler and Cameron Winklevoss today in court. Actually the first point they lost was when they received their infuriating surname. Then they lost another point for believing anyone cares about their old-money, aristocratic roots. From the propaganda film, “The Social Network”, you’ll recall the arrogant, effeminate, annoying Winklevoss twins tried to sue man-boy Mark Zuckerberg out of his Facebook glory. During the subsequent court battles, the Winklevii managed to  swindle $65 million dollars from little Mark Z, which is impressive since Facebook doesn’t have a viable revenue model. But the greedy, rowing, blood-lusting Dinklevoss twins wanted more moolah. Today the 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals told them to shut up and go back to their secret Skull and Bones Society (or whatever the Harvard equivalent of that is.)

Geez– since when is 65 million dollars (you didn’t earn) not enough?

There is a camouflaged cat sitting stealthily in this picture. I regret to say it took me a moment or two to find her. No it’s not a joke. She’s a typical tabby cat, if that helps.

one. two. three. go!

My latest book, All You Need to Know About Babies, hits the bookstore shelves Tuesday. I thought I’d give my loyal readers a few teasers from this epic tome (the first in a four part investigative series.)

First a pro/con list for those considering becoming parents:

The Pros of Having an Infant:

1. Whatever babies do is cute. They can vomit all over your face and somehow it’s still adorable.
2. If the end of the world is May 21 and we all need to cram onto a Martian spacecraft to avoid utter destruction, a child’s fare onboard is likely 1/2 price.
3. In the newborn stage, babies mainly just stay where you sit them down. There’s little worry that they’ll steal your car for a joyride.
4. If you’re an insomniac, having a baby awake at 3am keeps you company.

The non-Pros of Having an Infant:

1. They’re not good at running errands for you. “Baby!”, I urged my daughter, “I could really use a ham sandwich.” But she just lay there looking off into space, sucking on her hand.
2. They occasionally vomit all over your face.
3. As kittens become cats, so do infants become teenagers. As it stands, I dislike teenagers.

So there you have it, a comprehensive baby evaluation list which you should print off and discuss with your spouse.

You’re welcome.

The other day I was at Tucanos, a semi-authentic Brazilian Churrascaria restaurant. Latinish people came around to our table presenting us with juicy cuts of savory meats on a pike. Each table was equipped with a wooden indicator. When you are so full you can no longer hear or see straight, you flip the dowel red side up to stop the meat train.

On this particular day, the servers kept showing up with annoying roasted vegetables or sausage or pineapple or liver. Now, normally, I’m a fan of barbecued pineapple, but only as a desert. When I’m at a Brazilian grill, I want bacon-wrapped meat, and lots of it. “Traga-me frango envolto no bacon! (Bring me the bacon wrapped chicken!),” I roared, nicely at first.  Yet these gents kept bringing out the 2nd tier offerings (i.e., those NOT wrapped in bacon.)

I’ve never been in a situation where the addition of bacon wouldn’t have made that situation better. Locked up in the slammer? If you had a tray of fresh bacon, it wouldn’t be that bad. Stomachache? Try a few slices of bacon. Did your girlfriend just dump you? Dry your tears with a fist full of bacon! (not literally.)

And then we have raisins. Raisins are the opposite of bacon. I have nothing against raisins by themselves, but when used in cooking they ruin a good thing. “Look! Freshly baked cookies!” “Oh,” (crestfallen), “someone who hates humanity put raisins in them…” Baked raisins have the gooey texture of insect intestines*.

Who wants a bug-gut biscuit?

* I am aware that insects don’t actually have intestines, per se.

What have the crazy Japanese come up with this time?!? It’s a bottle of magic juice that puts out fires, but (as you’ll see in the movie), only when NOT thrown by handicapped people. Enjoy!