Casting call

For some reason, Mrs. N-B and I were discussing the other day whom we would want to play us in the movie version of our lives. The conversation went like this.

Me: I'm thinking Clooney.

Mrs. N-B: He is very handsome. But you look more like Matthew Broderick.

Me: Maybe Matt Damon. But under no circumstances should it be Ben Affleck. Under no circumstances.

Mrs. N-B: I think I'd want Catherine Zeta-Jones.

Me: Ok but no Michael Douglas for me. I'm serious. He's gross.

Product Review: Snickers Charged

I was pretty tuckered out after a weekend of skiing in Maine, so I turned to a new Snickers product to keep hunger at bay. It's called Snickers Charged, which is like a regular Snickers but with caffeine, taurine, and some vitamins.

There's 60 mg of caffeine in a small bar, about 3/4 the amount in a cup of coffee, while there are 250 mg of the amino acid taurine, just 1/4 of the taurine found in a Red Bull. It has 250 calories, which works out to about 30 calories a bite.

Mrs. NaturalBlog and I both tried it. Her verdict: "Tastes like a Snickers to me." I agreed, at least at first. But then my muscles started twitching beneath my logo apparel, my visual acuity increased five-fold, and I found I was suddenly able to name all the vice presidents. In order, with their home towns.

So I'd say Snickers Charged gets the job done.

Hooray beagles!

I enjoyed watching the Westminster Dog Show last night. I like to think of it as a chance to take a look at the dog menu and figure out which ones I might like, if Mrs. N-B and I ever get a dog.

There was history made, as Uno the beagle became the first beagle to ever win Best in Show. Harlan Pepper couldn't be reached for comment. Beagles everywhere rejoiced.

This is why they play the games

I'll admit I'm a little nervous about Sunday's Super Bowl. I'm pulling for the heavy favorite. It will be a crushing disappointment if it doesn't work out. Much will be lost.

I am of course talking about my Super Bowl Squares game, where I drew double zero and 3-7. Mrs. N-B got 6-7 and 7-7. In the words of my Squares MC Bean Stringfellow, "I cannot envision a scenario in which [they] don't win."

Of course I'm also rooting for the Patriots. In a blatant attempt to appease the gods of karma, I will now post a flattering picture of Eli Manning, with whom I have no beef.

Olive you too

For a number of years, the list of foods I didn't like was small but unyielding: Canned tuna, olives, yogurt.

But for some reason I'm slowly coming around, on everything but the canned tuna, at least.

A few weeks back was the first time I ever had a craving for olives. The conversation with Mrs. N-B went like this.

Me: I could really go for an olive.
Mrs. N-B: Do you want the olive or the martini that comes with it?

Zing.

I sure picked a good time to start liking them, too, since they figure prominently in the Catalan cuisine we had in Spain last week.

Resolved: Win March Madness

Last year was my high-water mark for fantasy sports. I won my Super Bowl squares game, captured the title in my baseball eliminator pool, and even managed an 11-game fantasy football winning streak that culminated in a championship.

But the best never rest, and I will let it be known today that this is my year to win my March Madness NCAA basketball pool. After a disappointing 33d place finish last year (in a tie with Mrs. N-B, coincidentally), I am ready to make the leap to the upper echelon.

I suppose I should be careful not to guarantee a win, since I'm the one who runs my office pool (for entertainment purposes only, of course). I'd hate to give conspiracy theorists any fodder.

Apres ski

Mrs. N-B and I went waaaaaaaaaaaay north this weekend for some skiing. We were at Jay Peak. Nice mountain, full of Canadians. That might be because of it's proximity. Check out the official USGS map:

Vegan skin

For a lot of guys, it was 1995 when they first fell in love with Alicia Silverstone, thanks to the great commercial success of Clueless. For me, it was 1993's The Crush. Never before (nor since) have I wanted to be Cary Elwes so much.

I caught part of Clueless on TV on Monday and wondered what Alicia was up to. Absent a cover shoot for Shape Magazine earlier this year (Mrs. N-B subscribes), I didn't really know what she was up to.

The answer came this week, when PETA unveiled Silverstone as a new spokeswoman. In this Internet ad she emerges naked from a pool to tell us she's a vegetarian. She's actually a vegan, but that's too hard a sell, even from a naked girl.

Nice production values there, but there's not a whole lot more skin shown than in 1993. Nudity? As if.

I hear ya, Diddy

I read that the Long Island White Party thrown by Sean "Diddy" Combs was a big success again this year. This is according to Diddy himself, but I'm sure he's an unbiased judge.

The gimmick for the White Party is that you have to wear white. If you don't, you're turned away, like Billy Joel's 15-year-old wife Katie Lee, who wore cream. That's her on the right in 2006, maybe wearing the offending dress.

"This party is up there with the top three that I've thrown," Combs said, according to the Associated Press. "It's a party that has legendary status. It's hard to throw a party that lives up to its legend."

This is a spot where Diddy and I agree. Mrs. N-B and I have thrown Kentucky Derby parties for three years running and I'm wondering how we'll top ourselves next year. I think the only thing left to do is offer thoroughbred rides.

Advantage, Washington

While Mrs. N-B and I failed in our quest to drive both ends of Interstate 90 on the same day, our trip to Seattle did allow us to complete a tastier feat: tours of both Red Hook Breweries in Woodinville, Wash., and Portsmouth, N.H. in the space of about two weeks. We hit the Washington brewery last month and the Portsmouth on yesterday.

And while the tours were substantially the same ($1 for five five-ounce samples), I have to say I preferred our tour in Washigton.

Two reasons for that. First, in Washington the beer drinking was mixed in with the tour, while in New Hampshire the drinking was all at the end. Second, though the New Hampshire tour guide was entertaining, he relied on jokes about his ex-wife to carry the load of his humor; our Washington guide was just all-around funny.

Plus, he was willing to lambaste the ridiculous new marketing campaign for Red Hook's repackaged "Long Hammer" IPA, which reads in part:

Everything great that was ever built required a long hammer. A trusty tool used by ordinary men to make extraordinary things. Transcontinental train tracks. Impossible pipelines. Soaring skyscraper. Long Hammer IPA puts this bold spirit in a bottle.

Ugh. Fortunately the beverage itself isn't as heavy handed as the advertising. Beer hasn't come so close to making me barf in a several years.

Well that wasn't what I expected at all

I'd heard a couple songs from Amy Winehouse, and Mrs. N-B even downloaded her album with the big hit "Rehab" on it. But no amount of listening could've prepared me for seeing a picture of her.

Her voice is so big and sultry that I had it in my head she would look like Shirley Bassey, whose searing vocals make the Goldfinger song my favorite James Bond theme.

Here's a picture of Shirley Bassey so you could see what I was expecting.


So you can imagine my surprise when I saw what Winehouse looks like.


She's like a rooster on heroin. In the words of one of the celebrity blogs that I admit to reading: If I saw her walking in my yard at night I'd skip the warning shot because I'd assume she wanted to eat my brain.

My summer vacation

A couple of thoughts about my trip to the great Pacific Northwest.

Dollar coins: Are we ready? Mrs. NaturalBlog and I spent some time in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. The visit was conveniently timed to coincide with the weakest the U.S. dollar has been in Canada since the 1970s. Canada uses coins for $1 and $2 increments. I kind of like that idea, even though I hate carrying change. I think I might become an advocate for dollar coins.

VWs. Judging from the number of VW buses still being driven in Washington state, the northwest is where hippies go to die.

Sushi at a ballpark. SafeCo field, the home of the Seattle Mariners, serves sushi, saki and bubble tea. I enjoyed the "Ichiroll Combo." Ichiroll is okay; it's just spicy tuna. Side note, Ichiro bats .000 (0-for-4) on days I eat an Ichiroll.

Don't hassle the Croc

I'm not even a little bit embarrassed to admit how much I like Crocs, the durable, comfortable and just hideously ugly footwear.

But ("Everyone I know has a big but. C'mon Simone, let's talk about your big but" -- Pee Wee Herman) I don't like them enough to actually wear them in public, because, like most people, I hate to be made fun of. I usually just put on Mrs. N-B's pair when I'm hanging out around the house or in the basement.

This would probably come as welcome news to the crocs detractors, but as sad commentary on the hurdles that remain for the crocs lovers.

But now that I've seen The Decider wearing them out (right), maybe I'll rethink my reservations. If only I could figure out where to get some socks with the presidential seal on them.

Two things I know a little about collide

As I watched Manny fly out in his only All Star at-bat last night, I enjoyed a nice glass of the red wine that bears his name (and visage), Manny Being Merlot.

The wine, which raises money for charity, is made from Chilean grapes and is imported through a Massachusetts wine distributor. Mrs. N-B picked it up for $12. My expectations were very low, and I'm pleased to say Manny exceeded them.

I was struck immediately by the wine's strong nose, or smell. I picked up on ripe fruit flavors almost immediately after opening the bottle. After swirling a small tasting sample, I also detected some pepper and cherry. Mrs. N-B said there was cassis in there, too, but I don't know what cassis tastes like.

Right off the bat, I was most impressed with the wine's color. It lightened just a bit at the top of the glass, indicating it had been aged slightly. A good sign.

Satisfied with sight and smell, I moved to taste. Very dry initially, Manny opened up a bit, but there was some sourness on the finish. Not surprisingly, the slugger tasted meaty and would probably go well with a steak. Mrs. N-B noted that the taste was very alcoholy, a good observation given the wine's high 13.5% alcohol content.

I thought Manny would pair well with some chocolate, but I'm disappointed to report the chocolate only exacerbated the sour. This undercuts what Tampa Bay Devil Rays manager Joe Maddon once said about Manny.

In all, I say it's a buy. Worth $12 for a bottle, not worth $160M over eight years.

Chris Klein, I like your style

I think it's safe to say that "actor" Chris Klein and I have the same taste in women. He was with Katie Holmes, back before she became insane. And now he's with Big Love star Ginnifer Goodwin, my favorite graduate of Big University (BU). I've liked both of them for a while.


Both have a lot going for them -- cascading dark hair, great cheekbones, successful careers.

Since Klein and I have such similar tastes, I'm a little worried he might come after Mrs. NaturalBlog next. Maybe I should hide her with the remains of Klein's career -- he hasn't been able to figure out where that went for several years.

Is Harold Reynolds a pimp daddy?

It was sad news in the NaturalBlog household when we found out that two-time all star and Baseball Tonight analyst Harold Reynolds had been fired by ESPN for sexual harassment, in large part because Mrs. N-B often characterizes him as cute. I respect him for his AL-best 60 steals in 1987.

So I was glad to see him fight back this week in a legal filing in which he claims the sexual harassment was actually a case of him offering to buy a woman lunch at the ESPN cafeteria. Though I fear this may be a case of "box lunch," I'll take Harold at his word for now.

One additional thought here -- Reynolds' ESPN contract (he was fired just a few months after signing it) was worth around $5 million. That's about 60 percent of what he made in his entire career.

Everyone at school picks on the pöpli kids -- even I do

Please, come by the house and relax in my Ektorp, as you bask in the warm light of my Tostarp. And when you get hungry, join me at the Jokkmokk for some dinner.

Mrs. N-B and I have slowly begun outfitting our home with furniture from Ikea. The Swedish chain's Massachusetts location opened last year to great fanfare and police details.

The only way I can explain a trip to Ikea is by comparing it to Disney World. It seems even bigger, though the parking lots are (mercifully) not named after Swedish cartoon characters. ("Honey, remember that we're parked in Oupplouloff!") Such an Ikea idea is not such a stretch, of course, because everything has Swedish names. Like the kids playland (Smalworld).

But the real draw is not the moderately priced assemble-it-yourself furniture. No, it is the delicious Swedish Meatballs. Only $5, and they come with Ligonberry sauce and potatoes. Don't shop hungry.

Holi-don'ts

I'm something of a party juggernaut this time of year. In the last week, people have seen me and Mrs. N-B at my work party, parties thrown by the mayor, the governor, the left-wing media, and even an environmental group. From this experience, I've culled some holiday party do's and dont's.

• Drink early, drink often. On the night of my ill-fated 2002 work holiday party, back when I was a hack, I managed to avoid being made fun of the next Monday at work by being so inebriated I had to leave at 8:30 p.m. This left another 2+ hours for people to do things more embarrassing than my dance with my boss. Someone complied by dancing on a table, falling off, and bruising her coccyx.


• Don't force the small talk. I learned this in 2001. Getting a little facetime with Acting Governor Jane Swift, I nearly made a joke that would have inadvertently referenced the time she used a State Police helicopter to fly home for Thanksgiving. I stopped myself at the last minute, when the Checkpoint Charlie in my head realized I was about to not only put my foot in my mouth but swallow it whole. Score.


• Have cash. Another 2002 tidbit. If you're too drunk to figure out an ATM, you'll never manage to pay your cabbie. Tough lesson.

Italy Unanswered

My honeymoon to Italy allowed me to answer many nagging questions -- is the Pope's hair really that white (yes), is Michaelangelo's David everything it's made out to be (moreso), would I be bold enough to try the bidet (no).

But there were many imponderables in Europe. We may never know why Rome's wine bars only play hits from the '80s (Tusut me, Wham never broke up in Italy) or why nuns across the world are all so short.

But more vexing than either of those was why the French are so rude. Mrs. NaturalBlog and I took Air France via Charles de Gaulle airport to Rome, and while we were impressed with the food (and wine -- a nice viognier) we thought the service left something to be desired. Maybe it's because we didn't even try to speak French to the staff, and our assumption they would speak to us in English rubbed them the wrong way.

I changed my game plan after we landed in Italy, asking people in my broken Italian if they spoke English. The answer always came "Yes" or "A little" or sometimes a polite "Not really."

So on the trip back I worked on my "Parlez vous anglais." The answer: "Oui" -- as if I were asking because I was taking a survey, not because I was a helpless tourist in a French airport.

Whatever. Keep you attitude, French people. I'll take Frenchy over you guys any day.

TomKat? More like CopyKat

Some people might be miffed to have major celebrities (like Suri) so blatantly rip off their honeymoon plans, but I feel honored that Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes are in Italy to get married, just a few days after Mrs. NaturalBlog and I got back from Italy on our luna di miele. After all, imitation is a form of flattery.

I even have some tips for the happy couple.

Tom and Katie -- be sure to try and eat at the Ragno D'oro Trattoria (Via Silla 26 in Rome). It's near the Vatican and came on the recommendation of a coworker. I'd call ahead for a prenotazione, though. We were there on a weekday night and it was packed.

You'll probably be spending some time in the countryside. Be sure to seek out Le Vigne de I Selvatici, which is a winery in the hillside Tuscan town of Montevarchi. Have the Vin Santo, which got a 98 in Wine Spectator. If you're lucky you'll even get to try the 1956 vintage. I'm sure you'll get along great with the proprietor who couldn't stop talking about how Pittsburgh Steelers quarterback Ben Rothlisberger came by over the summer to taste some wines. Big Ben even bought the '56, a bargain at 500 Euro (~$650) for a 500 ml bottle. Of course, there are only 200 left, so maybe it was worth it.

Finally, you should try to sneak in a visit to the Papal blessing, on Wednesdays in Saint Peter's Square. I know you guys practice a different religion, but it couldn't hurt to snag a blessing for that little baby of yours.