Week Four: Aaron and Sarah

Week four. The last date in the first month at our love nest.

To clarify, seeing as I just reffered to our house as a "love nest" and I have received several inquiries on this, 52 Double Dates (TM) is not an elaborate hoax created to trick unwilling couples into awkward group sex or uncomfortable orgies of any kind. At least, that is certainly not the intention. We'll see where the year takes us.

Anyways, this week brought one of my favorite people on earth to my porch: Mr. Aaron Greene. Aaron, as I stated last week, was the bestman in our Wedding. He is such good company, always positive and fun. I knew this date would be a good one. But I had no idea it would be the best double date I have ever been on.



Let's back it up. Here's an example of the calibur of memory Aaron is capable of creating. Remember that degenerate household that I lived in with Jancsi? Aaron also lived there with us. As well as our guest coming in Week Six, Matt Gomez. The house was disgustingly filthy. It looked like a junkyard of somesort or the trash house in the Labrynth. There were dirty dishes on the counter, in the sink, on top of the fridge and scattered on the floor. Used, with caked on week-old food dishes. Everywhere.

So one night, when we were logically impaired via liquid beverages, Aaron and I decided the best method to clean the dishes would be to break them in our backyard, at 3am. So, Gomez, Aaron and I bundle up all the plates and bowls and head to the back section of our cement driveway. Laughing, cheering and screaming, we tossed each individual pieace of diner ware into the night sky and let them loudly shatter one by one on the ground. As Gomez tossed the last dish into the air and yelled "Ooooopaaaah!" we were ordered to freeze and stop right there. With the plate still in mid-air, a flashlight beam highlighted Gomez's surprised face and he froze with his arms raised. It was the cops. And the longest pause in the world came to an end as the dish lost a battle with gravity and separated itself into several small pieces.

The two police officers took one look at the three of us and shook their heads. "Just go inside," they said. It was 3am, we were loudly breaking our sole material possessions while sauced out of our gords, and they just wanted nothing to do with us. It was a bad scene. It needed to end. Go inside. That's it.

But, as with most encounters with authority, our hearts we racing and we were too wired, and stupid, to just call it a night. Looking at the huge piles of garabage bags making hills in our "living" room, we decided to take action. There was a church a few blocks south of our place, and it had a big dumpster. We decided the best course of action was to grab four bags each and go dump 'em. So we hustled down to the Lord's place of worship and illegally dumped a few tons of trash. Done and done. Went home and passed out.

6am. Loud banging on the door. It was the cops. The same two cops from a few hours prior. Aaron answers the door with a furrowed brow in total confusion. I don't remember exactly what was said, but the cops were pissed. They accused us of tossing garbage all up and down the front entrance of a nearby church. Aaron denied it, of course, because we did not actually do this. It turns out, a raccoon got into the dumpster and spread the majority of the contents all across the steps out front. Including several pieces of our mail. The cops, being pretty cool, agreed that if we clean it up, there would be no noise charges from earlier and no dumping fees from now. So Aaron and I cleaned up an entire church lawn full of trash at sunrise, in front of two frowning cops and a variety of unapproving early rising neighbors. Some how the most shameful memories are the funniest to talk about.

On the subject of shame, I have a horrible track record getting along with Aaron's lady friends. I have been called a douchebag to my face by three that I can remember, and probably more than that if I was more conscious when it occurred. I don't know if I feel their pressence impeeds on our bromance or what, but I just completely duff being a gentlemen around the women he dates.

Thankfully, this is not the case with Sarah. Sarah and I get along great, and I give Aaron total approval of her as a person. She's awesome. And she hasn't called me a douchebag. So I was stoked to have her and Aaron over.

I knew I couldn't cook pasta for the third week in a row, so I chose to make gyros this go round. I am a big fan of Greek food. And a quick plug for folks looking for a legit spot to grab some: go to Plaka in Ballard. It's on Market and 20th. It's amazing, and family run. And the family is good peoples.



So I did a beef gyro in a large wheat flatbread, with hummus, diced tomatoes, sliced cucumbers, white onion, pitted kalamata olives, shredded lettuce, feta crumbles and tzatziki sauce. I served it with a side of pita slices with hummus and pureed kalamata for dipping, as well as a greek salad. I was worried about getting the meal on the table in time, but luckily Aaron and Sarah were running a little bit late. They wanted to bring a bottle of whiskey, but by the time the whiskey got to the porch, it was an open and partially dranken bottle of whiskey.



The dinner conversation was natural and upbeat. We all laughed a lot and it reminded me of the Pho lunch we did together the morning after the Slow Dance album release party. It was a devastating hangover, which made all our over-sensitive observations seem so hysterically funny to us. That was the setting in which we developed the Pho restaurant thesis involving the serving of water. I am not sure if we are just assholes, or if this happens to other people, but anytime I get Pho, and ask for water, it only comes half the time. When we made note of this verbally (amongst the group, not to the waiter), it only highlighted the problem. It reached an epic conclusion when we finally recieved two cups of water for four people. We decided they wanted us to share, so we did. But we drank the supply fast, and when Aaron requested more, the bothered waitress brought back a third cup half the size of the first two.

I can't say the waiting service at our dinner parties is much better. I guess Smokey got tired of waiting...



Anyhow, we had a good knack for creating Curb Your Enthusiasm style conversation together. We are all really there. And it was so great I can't specifically remember much, except that Sarah comes from a town with a population of 400 people, but graduated from a class of 250 students, which is awesome math or one huge family. And Aaron tossed out a quote in the context of how people dress that was priceless: "I'm just counting down the days until wearing a cape in public all the time isn't weird." Had to be there.

Somehow the conversation lead us to discussing The Handkerchief Code, which is a color-coding system developed in the 1970's by the American gay community. In simple terms, you wear a bandana of a certain color to let strangers know what kind of sexual encounter you are open to or currently seeking. You can check out the details on that here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Handkerchief_code



I wish I could describe the night better, but it was just a lot of fun and I really like those two people. And for those keeping score, the bottle of whiskey was finished entirely by Aaron. At one point he seasoned his pita bread with it. He likes whiskey.

When explaining the 52 Double Dates blog to Sarah, Aaron said, "I don't know, they make us dinner then rank us I guess." Well, not really, but since you asked for it, this was the #1 double date I've ever been on.

Beat that next week, Sarah Abel and Jesse!

Week Three: Brianne & Big Aaron w/Little Aaron

Week Three came, and with it, a massive snow storm.

Wimpy Seattlites were calling it Snowpacolipse or Snowmaggedon. Flights were cancelled, work was missed, and worse, a dinner date was post-poned! Were Erica and I destined to fail? Could we pull off a decent double date in the midst of ice, snow and wind with friends flying into visit over the weekend?

Like the reliable friend she has been to my wife ever since they met, Brianne (who will be refered to as Bucket from here on) came through with rescheduling a nice, laid back Sunday night dinner with her son Aaron and his father Aaron. Little and Big. Respectively.



Bucket and Big Aaron are those type of people. Rock solid friends, always there in a pinch. Aaron has fixed almost all Erica's car troubles, as he is a top notch automechanic in the Lynnwood area. Bucket has remedied all Erica's boy troubles up until Prince Charming finally came along. Although the night I met Erica, who was with both Bucket and Aaron at Waldo's North (a classy Norf-end bar, look it up), Bucket had declared me to be on "Erica's Team," which had to imply I at minimum looked like a frog.

Erica and I exchanged a series of messages over the net, and she dragged Bucket out to a few of my shows. I vividly remember the show which I asked Erica out on our first date at. It was in Chop Suey and they came back stage to hangout with Grieves and me. I talked to Bucket the whole time because I was too nervous to say anything to Erica. And that really saved me. She was super fun and quirky and I actually liked the conversation, so it wasn't totally an abandon ship due to shyness situation. She is a person I would be a friend with even without my wife in the picture.

So I couldn't drop the ball on this dinner. I had little time to prep after a full day of driving around band equipment and taking visitors to the airport. I was only able to get to the grocery store one hour prior to our scheduled time. I had to think quick and cook quicker. I felt like a chef on the show Chopped.

Let's walk through the process. My initial thought was stick to my go-to style dish. So I wanted to do pasta. Pesto was already cooked in Week Two, so I decided to make spaghetti. The only kind of proper spaghetti is the kind with a nice meaty bolognese sauce. A simple tomato sauce is unacceptable.



So I grabbed some Painted Hills all natural ground beef, an onion, minced garlic, chopped mushrooms, and some basic tomato sauce. I fried the ground beef up first, then poured some Worcestershire sauce over it for seasoning, along with some salt and pepper. As it cooked, I added in the onion and garlic. I let that simmer and started on the salads.

I didn't have time to plan for a fancier salad, so I knew I was going to have to go with a basic romaine, tomato and carrot salad with an Italian vinaigrette. I thought I could at least spruce that up by making it interesting looking. Okay fine, the term I thought to myself was "pretty." Anyway, I noticed some organic heirloom carrots and tomatoes in the produce section. Heirloom vegetables are very colorful. Each one is either a bright yellow, deep orange or dark purple color. I figured I could use those to disguise the salad as more than just basic greens on the side. So I grabbed the goods and while the meat bolognese was in process, I started cutting tomatoes and peeling carrots. I popped some garlic bread in the oven and started the noodles boiling as I added the tomato sauce and mushrooms into the bolognese.



If I'm being totally honest, the salad wasn't a hit. But it would have been solid if I chose a more zesty vinaigrette, like a Chive Tarragon. All in all it was bland, despite looking like the Skittles equivalent of veggies. More importantly, I got my food plated in time for the visit!



As we sat down to the table, Bucket broke out some red wine and started to heat up some delicious homemade artichoke dip. A few minutes into conversation it became totally obvious who the star of the show would be in Week Three... Little Aaron.

Little Aaron had a blast eating his spaghetti, hovering the fork over his face and dangling the noodles downward, spreading sauce all over his cheeks. He was also very alarmed by the coloration of the salad and wasn't convinced it contained tomatoes. He was shocked that we got two pieces of garlic bread each, and commented "Why do we get two pieces?" Bucket responded, "Because we are fancy." And Little Aaron replied, "Jeff's not fancy..."

I can't really argue his point. I currently have a full beard, I was wearing a beanie at the table, and I'm pretty sure I ate the entire meal with my elbows on the table. The kid is right, I ain't fancy!

We broke out some more question games, and it turned out that three weeks in a row might be a little repetitive for that type of game. Most questions were things we already knew about each other, added to the mix was Little A answering the questions randomly, which was my favorite part of the game. One question in particular was "Where does your life need change?" And Little A says "the bank." It was genius on multiple levels. This kid is going to be really smart when he grows up.

So I break out the camera for the group photo and Little A announces "Take a picture of me while I'm not here!" The camera turned out to be something he enjoyed quite a bit. We ended up making a game of trying to capture a cardboard box in mid-air as he threw it.



I hadn't ever enjoyed hanging out with children until the last few weeks. The Oreo cookie ice cream for dessert might have taken things a bit too far, as I believe a sugar high commenced and then a burnout and crash for Little A. And Bucket was off with the Aarons. It was a very pleasant meal. I got lucky that the artichoke dip did not come out until later because it really stole the culinary show. I would have completely loaded up on that and had no room for anything else! We agreed to do this again at their place and Erica and I look forward to that.

Coming up this weekend: The bestman from my Wedding, Aaron Greene, and his lovely lady friend Sara.

Week Two: Jancsi and Bri w/Miles

Shall we?

It's only the 2nd double date and within the first week of moving in! There's no official set up. No new paint. No fancy new furniture. Who better to invite over for dinner than a POWER COUPLE with great taste to help us decide what to do with our new nest?

Enter two of our favorite people: Jancsi and Bri. With one of our new favorite people: Miles.



Controversy already surrounds the power rankings. At this point we will need to explain the definition of a "power couple" to set the tone for the blog.

Nothing better than an example. And Jancsi and Bri are perfect for this. Both of them are hot, by superficial standards. Jancsi is a big, tall, muscular gentlemen with mechanic and social skills to match. Bri is an extremely beautiful and smart woman with motherly instincts and a newborn child Miles. They both have "their shit together" and hence have their shit together in this game of couples. They are taking on life and accomplishing everything. They purchased a fixer-uper in Lake City, fixed it up, and maintain excellent jobs. Look at these people. Amazing.



Needless to say, we've had a comfortable enough relationship with J+B to invite them over before we were fully prepared to host a dinner. We actually looked forward to their advice on what we could do with our space. Especially since they have utilized their's so well and maintain an adorable house raising their awesome son.

But you don't care about that. You care about... BACK STORY!

Jancsi is a Roosevelt High School Alumni. Go Riders! But, full disclosure: he was a male cheerleader. This is one of the many reasons Jancsi accuses me of not being friends with him in high school. He was also a grade below me and actually hung out with girls. All of those things interfered with our interactions until post-college.

So I met Jancsi when I became his roommate in 2004, shortly after moving back from Colorado to Seattle. The area was Green Lake (where I live now), and the house was the legendary 8-1-9. It was a scumbag dump for degenerates and in-betweeners that landed me in a situation with 5 early-20 something fellas and 3 even younger lasses.

Lots of pizza boxes and empty beer bottles. There was a dead van in the backyard with X-mas lights installed for "chilling out" in. There was a crayon mural on the living room wall. I'm pretty sure the entire place was the restroom, but if not, I am so sorry to those roomates.

Needless to say, times were hard, and Jancsi and I gravitated towards one another, as the more go-getter types in the establishment. We both got jobs selling pizzas on the street for Pizza Time. We spent the entire summer on the beach meeting people and slanging $5 cheese pies to make rent and grocery money. He was the first man I ever sang female country songs along with in public. It was... weird.

Some how he developed into one of the most mature and caring individuals I am currently associated with now. To bring it back to our first post, when Ben (Week 1) and I were stranded all around the United States, Jancsi would diagnose our car problems over the phone and get us moving again when AAA reps who were present couldn't figure out what was going on. He's that type of friend. Still fixes my rigs.

And here he is with his gorgeous wife and their cutest-baby-ever son. Tight.

Sappy stories suck, so I had to present drama. I decided earlier in the week to purchase a disruptive and disgusting mantle piece. And that piece is this awful clay statue.



I don't care who you are or what land you live in. This is awesome. Except my wife hates it and so does everyone else. So I guess I should care. I tried to pawn this off on Jancsi and Bri as a tradition of 52 Double Dates. I tried to say that they must take it home and re-gift the bastard. I tried.

But they presented a more gracious gift: a large bottle of Pino Grigio. Hint: this is acceptable. However, their gift made it incredibly obvious where we are in the couples game. We don't even own wine glasses. So, like, pretty low dude.

But we had the food. I decided to go easy, since I just reclaimed my strainer from the ex-pad, and fix Italian. Pasta is my favorite and quite possibly the only non-breakfast food I can prepare. So I did a cheese, meat and cracker platter, a Caesar salad with lemon wedge, and pesto bow-tie pasta with feta and sun dried tomato course.



Seated in the wide open living/dining/we aren't sure what we are doing with our space room, we ate and analyzed the previous year. How often had we even see each other? I had previously noticed that the last pictures taken on my camera (prior to purchasing the new memory card for the house) were from Erica's birthday in December... 2010. I had not taken a single picture in all of 2011!!! Did we even bother to spend time with Jancsi and Bri? We came to agree that there were at least three meetings. But none-the-less, a good reminder to spend as much time as you can as soon as you can catching up with people you care about.



Suddenly, Ben saved the dinner. Not only did we not own wine glasses, we didn't even own a wine opener! I guess that makes sense. But luckily, Ben had given my wife this creepy baby with twisted extended genitals that seemed to give us access to the desired beverage. Score.



Out comes the chat cards. And I was fully expecting another "back in the day" memory lane journey. But no matter what question was pulled, the theme of the night was how bright we all thought the future might be.

And as Miles crawled around the floor and giggled and knocked over empty wine bottles and filled the place with life, I couldn't help but fixate on how awesome life will be for the five of us. They have a lovely family, I have this new house with my best friend, and things are just great.

I try not to do either past or future. Stay present and you will be happy! But last week was remembering good things that were. And this week was thinking about good things that will be. And I was pretty damn happy about both.

Next week we are happy to have over a couple who has played a major role in our relationship and life: Brianne (Bucket) and Aaron. They will also be bringing over a special someone known as Little Aaron. For those keeping score, we have more friends with kids than not. We are old.

I look forward to seeing them, as I always do, but even more so to ask them a question that Jancsi proposed to us... is our bathroom door towel hanger merely a device... or is it... A METAL MAN???



I won't shower right for a week...

Week One: Benjamin & Josephine

The first date. On the move-in day! What type of friend would be there at a time like this?

First you need some back story. If you've ever watched sappy drawn-out TV dramas like Lost, you know that it's all about back story. So here's a few things.

For starters, my wife and I have this nomadic problem. In the five years we've been together, we have moved a total of five times. The first four all resulted in epic meltdowns in our relationship. We never fight, which is one of the many reasons were are #2 in our power couples ranking system (#1 is John & Kim, stay tuned for how their double date will be addressed). But every move has caused an inevitable lapse in our otherwise perfect pairing.

Enter Ben and his tour van. What a blessing for moving day!



Before we start unloading the huge sectional couch into our empty brand new home, perhaps a stroll down memory lane is in order? MORE BACK STORY. It's what you're here for, really.

Ben is a professional rapper and my best friend. We met around this time of the year back in 2005, for lack of tact to disguise the nature of our strange connection, I believe it was online, more specifically Myspace (bring ya back?).

We began recording and performing together immediately. Our crew embraced Ben and he became a fixture around the Aaron Greene and Gomez circle. Aside from music and Denny's bar, there wasn't much else we did for a short period of time.

Less than a few months after the bro down, Ben and I ended in in my 31-foot 1971 Chevy Allegro RV running promotions for a gangster rap tour. Before the tour even began, we broke down in Chattanooga, Tennessee on our way to the first show in Georgia. We were stuck there for over a week while the engine was repaired, or replaced, rather.

Times were hard. There were blood stains on the wall of the motel we were stuck in, the only local activity was drinking down by the river, and a hick who looked like Krusty the Clown without makeup tried to give us a ride somewhere, seemingly to murder us. As this journey continued, so did the breakdowns, both of the vehicular and mental variety. Triple A was on speed dial, and we basically were towed from Walmart to Walmart across the country til we landed back home.

At the time I had a Jenning's .22 caliber pistol as my "alarm system" for the RV I was "living" in. That surely would have ended up in my mouth during this disaster if it weren't for Ben. He helped me get through that experience, and, as it turns out, made it into a fond memory. We look back and laugh about the night we camped out for six hours hunting the rat who was taking harbor in our vehicle with a pellet gun. And I smile when I picture Ben saving a raggedy mutt's life who had been hit by a car. The dog got a boner when Ben handed him over to a non-kill shelter. Seriously.

As the years passed by, Ben and I took the stage as a duo and played a ton of shows together. We've toured the country so many times since that it's hard to recall which tour was which, what set we were playing, who else was on the bill, etc. But he has always been such a solid friend to me.

And now here he was, helping me and my wife move into our house as the first double date. It felt fitting. And I was happy to have him break the cherry so to speak. No homeowner.



The weather of course was bullshit. Rain, but Seattle rain. Drizzle, no Drake. Not the ideal conditions to be moving a bed and a couch. But nonetheless we were able to get most of the large items transferred before my wife had returned from work.

With only half of our kitchen ware moved, and no groceries, we decided the meal for the first double date would have to be outsourced. So we called Pagliacci and "phoned it in" on this one.

A large pep, black olive and mushroom pizza, with champagne and mediocre beer would be the first meal we ate in our new house. And that bread was broken with my two best friends: my wife and Ben. And his lovely lady Josephine, who was chipper as ever.



We sat in our new basement, huddled around the coffee table facing what should be a television, and, instead of watching mindless shows, exchanging hours of heartfelt conversation. The mood and moment were sparked by cards with thought-provoking questions. We shared memories, laughs and called it a night before the PM changed.

All in all it was wonderful. I wouldn't have done anything differently. In fact, I feel very fortunate looking at the A to B of my life. There were many ups and downs, an extremely strange journey, to say the least. But to have this house, with this wife and these friends. I'm blessed.

Batter Up! Next week's date is scheduled with power couple #3: Jancsi and Bri. They have an adorable son Miles who I believe will be making the trip. But we can get into their back story with the next update. Cheers!

1 down, 51 to go.