5:30 AM.

That's the time I'm waking up every day now.  Giving me about an hour and a half extra per day.  Which adds up to... a LOT of extra time each week. 

And, to make a good thing even better, I've been taking the first forty minutes of my day and heading to the gym in my complex.  Six minute walk there, then immediately turn around and go home.  No, I kid.  Six minute walk there, then free weights, then twenty-eight minutes of treadmill, a little more freeweights, and then the six minute walk home.

I've been doing the wake-up thing for three weeks.  This is only the second week of the workout regimen, but this far it's been both fun AND rewarding.  Fun, because I have lots of extra time each week.  Rewarding, because the ladies tell me I'm handsome and fit even more ofen than they used to.

(I should note that they tell me more with subtle, non-verbal cues than with actual, you know, words.)

So, Lauren and I spent some of Presidents' Day Weekend in Tucson, visiting my folks. I did do some work over the weekend -- that's the curse and blessing of working for a website like Grab.com!

Our weekend was action-packed, believe you me. We saw Kevin Eubanks (of "Tonight Show" fame) performing with his jazz quartet, and we saw a music that hopes (in vain, methinks) to hit Broadway: "Bombay Dreams." And we ate. A lot.

And we visited the Desert Museum.

And we ate.

And now, as we sit in the airport (our return flight, like the one that got us here, is delayed), we've discovered a modern airport wonder:

Free WiFi.

Meaning, we can surf the Internet -- posting on our blogs and the message boards and checking our email and whatnot -- while we wait for the plane! Woohoo!

I was about to type, "Since that's the case, the plane can take as long as it wants." But then I remembered the best part about going home: CHARLIE! We'll see you soon, buddy! And since when can dogs surf the Internet?

Some mornings, I use Head & Shoulders.

Some mornings, I use apple-scented Suave.

And some days, I'm feeling daring, so I pour a little Head & Shoulders into my hand, and then pour a little Suave into my hand as well, and then use the soapy combo to wash my hair.

And every single time I do that, I secretly hope that I'll create a little "science experiment"-style volcano of erupting shampoo.

It hasn't happened yet.

A coworker of mine got married last week. Lauren and I were in attendance, as were a bunch of my coworkers.

To protect anonymity, let's call the woman who got married "Moose."

This past week, Moose told several of us an amusing story regarding her grandfather-in-law. He's a sweet but rather elderly gentleman.

Apparently, as Moose strolled down the aisle in her elegant wedding dress, as her friends and family stood watching, well, that's when Grandpa said something.

As Moose tells it:

Everyone's quiet -- of course -- because I'm walking down the aisle. Then, he says in a loud voice, loud enough that even I heard:

"You can see downtown from here!"

When Moose told this story at work, nearly all of my coworkers mind misinterpreted what Moose was describing her grandfather-in-law as saying. I know I did. And so did other coworkers I retold the story to. And so did Lauren, when I told her.

In fact, I'm willing to bet that some of you still haven't realized what Grandpa actually meant.

He was commenting on the impressive view of Los Angeles.

You sickos.

If you read my blog regularly, get a life.

No, that's not what I was going to say!  I meant to say, if you read my blog regularly, you probably know that my wife and I watch a lot of television.  We don't watch "filler" or junk -- we watch shows that really, truly entertain us.

One of those shows is 24.  (Although we own the first season on DVD, that's the only season we've never seen...)   We've thoroughly enjoyed the second, third, and fourth seasons, but let me say this: The two-hour season premiere of 24 last night was the Best. 24. Ever.  I mean, wow.

So as not to ruin anything for those of you who haven't yet seen the episodes from last night, I'll use invisible text to sum up the episode (highlight the next space to read it): [Holy freakin' cow man!]

Other highlights of the weekend included several games in my continuing season of Madden 2004.  (For the uninformed, former football coach and current blowhard announcer John Madden has his name attached to the best NFL video game series on the planet.)  I'm playing through a season as the Eagles, and we're currently 8 and 1.  It's a nice change from reality.  I must say that playing a game of Madden almost feels like an actual sport, given the tension, energy, and mental athletics that go into playing.

Spoken like a true lazy couch potato.

And as if hours of physical video game playing and a heart-pounding 24 weren't enough for one measly weekend, we also had a few friends over for drinking and board games, which -- along with peanut butter & chocolate and me & Lauren and honey & mustard -- is one of my favorite combinations.

I know I've blogged about this before, but it's my blog, and I'll blog about what I want to blog about, so there!

I have gray hairs.  I don't have a lot; I'm not salt and pepper.  Yet.

But there's a gray hair in the front, and a couple on the side. 

All told, probably fewer than ten.  Probably closer to five. 

Unless the entire back of my head has grayed and no one has told me.  Checking... Nope, that doesn't seem to be the case.

I have decided that officially I Don't Care about going gray.  That is, I won't allow it to bring me down.  I don't feel a need to dye my hair.  Yet.

No, I don't think I would ever get to that point, unless I go completely gray before I'm 30.  That'd be rough.

But it does seem strange to be graying -- even if only just slightly -- at 25.  Graying is for old people.  And old, in my book, is defined as "older than Lex Friedman."

See, this year for Hannukah, one of my gifts to Lauren was a Nintendo GameCube.  (No, this was not a bowling ball engraved with the name Homer. Lauren and I both enjoy casual video gaming. We always go with older systems -- and always Nintendo -- because the used games are considerably cheaper, and we don't feel the need to break the bank on our video gaming fun.)

But video games -- those make me feel young.  When Lauren-as-Luigi frees his mansion from its ghosts, or I as Donovan McNabb make a game-saving 12-yard touchdown scramble, or when the two of us zip around Rainbow Road in Mario Kart -- I feel young.  At heart.

Mostly.

Except sometimes, I feel like an old gray-haired guy refusing to grow up.

That's when I decide to cheer up.  So I eat an entire bag of cheetos and make fart noises with my mouth.

While I was on vacation, we spent a day in Queens, NY, with family and friends. Mostly Jewish family and friends, in fact.

One of the folks in attendance mentioned how much fun she had had at a Christmas party earlier that week, when those in attendance had sung "The 12 Days of Christmas" together. Each person had been assigned a day (e.g., one person sang "and a partridge in a pear tree" each time around).

We decided to emulate that singalong -- with a twist: Each person would make up the items for that day.

My father-in-law started:

"On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:
A thooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong."

That's "thong," stretched out by many syllables.

Others would enter the rooms to see what was going on, and would be put on the spot to participate, often against their will. Whatever they said would be worked into the song.

The finished ditty went a bit like this:

On the 12th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me:
Twelve "I want cake"s
Eleven cans of something
Ten bags of ice cream
Nine babies screaming
Eight shots of tequila
Seven weird people
Six random singalongs
Five bellybutton rings
Four sets of twins
Three candy stripers
Two Jewish chicks
And a thooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong.

Didja miss me?  I know you did.

The vay-cay was great.  Our first and last days in Jersey were very, bitterly cold, but the days in between were actually pretty mild.  But we all know the best part about seeing family for the holidays:

PRESENTS!

Hahaha.

But seriously, I am getting boatloads of presents.  From my sisters, my parents, my in-laws, and -- of course -- my wife.  We're a family that enjoys gift-giving.  Of course, I've gotten Bull[censored], Bull[censored], and more Bull[censored] -- but that's because I asked for it :)

I am drowning -- in a good way -- in new DVDs and books.  Me likey!

My vacation is almost over. Lauren and I will fly back to LA early, early tomorrow (6:30am Eastern, which is 3:30am Pacific), and then once we're back in LA, I'll actually be going in for a full day's work at Grab HQ. That should be fun! If the site falls down tomorrow, I blame me.

In OTHER news... Remember two blog posts ago, when I wrote about "Lazy Sunday," the Chronicles of Narnia-themed rap on SNL? It's available free on iTunes, and now Slate says the video actually means something for rap.

As it turns out, Slate's wrong. But it's still a good article.

We can't be TOO sad about returning to Los Angeles, though, because it does mean one very, very exciting thing:

CHARLIE! We haven't seem the little guy in nearly a week and a half, and we are (all, Charlie included!) looking forward to the big reunion!

We are at the airport, about to fly from LA to New Jersey.

Lauren went to get a snack. While she was gone, she texted me this:

I just saw Richard Simmons - and yes he was wearing spandex shorts

Lauren -- and airports -- are grand.

At this point, I may well be the only one who cares. But... I've put together a much better mix of "Breakin' Down Walls." In this version, you can actually hear/understand the 2nd and 3rd verses, the bass line changes up a bit, the beats are a little slicker, and the whole thing sounds considerably more polished. Now, Grab staffer ricemag wants to record his own Jewish rap tune so that we can have a Jewish rap battle. To him, I say this: Bring it on. I'll win. Holla!

I just had not Writer's Block, but rather... Writer's Avalanche.  I wanted to blog about TOO MANY things at once.

First, I wanted to blog about the amazing vacation my wife and I just took in Palm Springs.   So relaxing. So beautiful.  So fun.  And that's just Lauren!  But seriously... our trip included the Palm Springs Zoo & Desert Museum, a tram ride up nearly 8,000 feet to the top of a mountain, and a brief visit with relatives who were staying in a massive home once rented by Elvis.

I also wanted to blog about how today is my birthday, and isn't that grand, and boy am I old, and I love presents, and blah blah blah.  But my Grab inbox is already overflowing with birthday wishes, and I don't want to stoke that fire any more!

And, before Thanksgiving, I was hoping to blog a list of 50 things I'm thankful for.  But I forgot to do it, because the day before Thanksgiving was a short work day and -- of course -- the start of vacation time.  Maybe next year.

For the time being, I'm going to get some work done.

Last season, Saturday Night Live did a recurring filmed (non-live) sketch called "Bear City."  These clips were narrated by Fred Willard, and featured actors in bear costumes living life in a not-very-humorous way.  Which is to say, the skit wasn't that funny.

But for the past two days, the jingle: "Bear City! Bear Bear City!" has been echoing around in the vast chamber I call My Head.

Damn you, Bear City!

I mention all this for two reasons:

1. Because the damn song is stuck in my head and I can barely hear my own thoughts, what with this unceasing "Bear City" anthem pumping through my skull.

2. Because, given that today's the day before Thanksgiving, my head has written its own little parody of the "Bear City" theme song as: "Thanksgiving! Thanks Thanksgiving!"

It's a great parody.

Lauren and I are headed to Palm Springs tomorrow, for a desert Thanksgiving with horseback-riding, zoo-visiting, food-eating, and non-working. WOOHOO!

I went to college with some impressive people.

I attended Brandeis University in scenic Waltham, Massachusetts, where I wrote for The Justice, sang with two a cappella groups, worked at the campus radio station, and, of course, met my wife.  (Note, for the record, that she was not my wife at the time. That would have been weird.)

I also met some other fun and talented people.  One of those fun and talented people ("falented," for short) was (and is!) Jake Rubin.

Jake's one of those guys with enough confidence and intelligence to do what he wants to do.  And right now, what Jake wants to do is spready the word about his employer, 360JMG.  See, Jake worked for a company called Group360, which recently merged with JMG Direct, to form this new company, based in Washington, DC, called 360JMG.

They call themselves a "strategic communications firm."  Basically, they provide PR services to their clients -- advertising, new media, direct mail... the whole kielbasa.  360JMG helps candidates win races.

To me, that sounds like a pretty tough challenge.  But, as I mentioned, my college bud Jake Rubin works there.  And I've seen Jake Rubin convince a small army of college kids that it's worthwhile to wake up at 9am on a Sunday to consume cafeteria "cheese-eggs" while wearing funny hats.  I've seen Jake Rubin spring into action, keeping a cool head in crazed situations, like when I slipped coming out of the shower on our suite's bathroom cement floor and got a huge gash near my eye, and he called the campus medics and helped groggy ol' me get some clothes on before they arrived.  And, perhaps most importantly, I've seen Jake Rubin help put together a bachelor party for me that neither compromised my morals NOR lacked the requisite (yet mild!) debauchery. 

Jake Rubin's a smooth guy.  And he works for 360JMG -- which makes me feel pretty confident about their services.  And thus, Jake has more than earned this shout-out for his employer from me. 

The absolute best live-action sitcom ever aired on television has been cancelled. Fox has given the ax to Arrested Development.

I for one would be more than willing to pay $0.99/episode to watch the show online, should someone decide to go that route.

I'd also be willing to watch the show on FX.

Or to pay for Showtime if they move it there.

But I need to continue to get Arrested.