Okay, Troops

Welcome, Wilkommen, dozo sumimasen domo, bienvenue, xyyxrr(click)-hssh-zzyzzyx, to 2010!

Can you believe we actually made it to 2010? Now you don't have to go around thinking about the dilemma of how to say "The oh-ohs" or some other such nonsense. No, now you can say "Yes, back in the Tens . . ."

Twenty-ten, Twenty-ten, Look at Me, I lived then! See, a rhyme can be made with just about anything.

As for ushering in die neue jahre, (sorry, too many GI Joes and Hitler books -- I've had enough, there must be some final solution to the German problem, get Osama on the case, speedo. His minions will wipe the earth clean and destroy many planes going to Detroit within minutes) we passed (such a Frenchy expression!) an extremely good evening at the loving, capable hands of the crew at Basi, indeed, until the witching hour had come.

It's going to have to become a tradition, this New Years' at Basi, because they're simply SO NICE.

I was green! Yes, green! I wore my best black suit and black shirt (pics to follow!) and dayglo green tie and greased back my unruly hair and just pretended I was a Mafia dude, and it got me everywhere!

Brigitte and Tai-chan were exemplary, the restaurant was "pcked" to the gills, and the service was fantastic. It's amazing what these people do, and how they do it.

I poked my head into the kitchen at some point to see Maurizio working, and can you say "galley slave?" I know you can. He could be basking on a nice white sandy beach in Cuba with his wife and lovely young son, but no he's not.

He's making my wonderful linguine with sausage, making sure my wine is properly cold, taking care of my wife and son with various delights, and all on top of it, burning his fingers on hot frying pans! What could be a better way to pass the New Year's revelries? Can you think of one? I can't.

Anyway, it was marvelous, and the ball descended in Times Square and Dick Clark came out of his semi-coma one more time and, here's the kicker: WE MADE IT HOME IN ONE PIECE! Yes, I checked! Fingers, breastbones, skulls all intact! Believe me, dodging DRUNKEN morons in Montreal as opposed to just MORONS is an Extreme Sport! Qualifies for the Vancouver Olympics! Get your tickets here NOW and save big in this new year of ours.

But we're alive, and I suppose that matters, doesn't it, my faithful few. Because then who else would write this drivel?

HAPPY NEW YEAR'S, MY GODDAMN TROOPS; WE'RE GOING TO HAVE TO BAND TOGETHER TO MAKE IT A BETTER ONE.