Where the Battle of Algiers rages on ...Rick's Cafe Americain

If you want to make yourself look like a nut, claim to see something that nobody else sees. Notwithstanding that little bit of information, buried in a story about how Goldman Sachs avoided getting burned in the mortgage crisis was this paragraph:

Meanwhile, two Goldman managing directors acted as liaisons, helping bring Alex Rodriguez back to the New York Yankees baseball team, a classic Goldman deal that enhances the value of the firm’s 40 percent stake in the YES network - which it is trying to sell - while also pleasing Yankee fans. The symmetry was perfect: like the Yankees, Goldman, more than any other bank on Wall Street, is both hated and revered.

So now you tell me: did A-Rod approach people at Goldman Sachs on the advice of Warren Buffet? Or is it more likely that Goldman Sachs approached him, with an assist from Warren Buffet? Or asked A-Rod to give Warren Buffet a call.

I have a feeling that ARod may be making $30MM a year after all, with a little help from friends that aren’t the Yankees. Scott Boras is no dummy. He knows how important the sale of YES is to more than just the Yankees. 

This is not a pretty picture on many levels. (Note to self: Ablutions before taking the picture. Maybe a pedicure. Nobody needs to see those toes.) Still, it must be the picture of record, as it was taken on the morning of November 14, 2007 in order to confirm a bet with F-Train. As many* of you know, F-Train recently won a lot of bets when he gained over 17 pounds in under two and a half months. I tried to get him to take a double-or-nothing bet that he couldn’t do it again. Because he has been eating, he had enough energy to think through the bet and he declined. I assume he suspected that it was worth $20 to me to give him a heart attack.

In any event, in an effort to get back my money (or at least to delay payment) we have come up with a separate double-or-nothing: I have to get down to 195 by March 1, 2008. I have to lose 18.5 pounds in three and a half months. As in F-Train’s scenario, I will be dressed the same in every pic and the same scale will be in the same place when I take the picture. I’ll post an updated picture every two weeks or on any day when I feel like it. By the end it is my hope that I will not have to hold the camera as low to keep my gut out of the frame.

And now I’m opening the betting to you. Betting closes on Sunday and all monetary bets are the same for everyone: $20. If you want to get creative, I’m listening (and, FYI, married and a member in good standing of the New York State Bar). Betting closes on Monday, November 19, 2007 or, should I actually get 15 people to read this and care, $300. Leave the bets (or suggestions) in the comments.

Short FAQ after the jump.

Who the fuck does this guy think he is, posting a cat picture (and, probably the only cat picture this blog will ever see) on a Monday?

I wrote this last Tuesday but forgot to post it. I have to get better about that.

November 6:

I had a salad for lunch today. This would be unremarkable but for the fact that Carrie and I just returned from our Paris and Madrid where we redid our honeymoon and dramatically improved the experience.

To recap the comparison:

LOW POINTS
Honeymoon 1: I feel asleep at the wheel and drove into a very large tree and we got to see a Tompkins County ER.
Honeymoon 2: Our passports ended up in the laundry and we got to see the U.S. Embassy!

HIGH POINTS
Honeymoon 1: I won $15 in a four person poker tournament with friends from college.
Honeymoon 2: As we looked down at the lights of Paris from Montmartre ... do I really need to finish this sentence?

Anyway, back to the salad. This was my first normal salad in over two weeks because, strangely, they don’t have vegetables in Europe. After our trip to Barcelona two years ago, we didn’t expect to find any in Spain. (It is my current understanding that it is illegal to either grow or import vegetables in that country. Which explains the pat down at the airport.) However, France shocked me. France is the epicenter of cuisine; I figured that green vegetables was part of the repertoire. I figured wrong. Potatoes? Lots. Squash? Sure. But NOBODY simply sautees some spinach or asparagus or broccoli. Even as a side dish.

There was nothing in all of Paris that could reasonably be called a salad by anyone not consulting for McDonald’s. Vegetables are apparently only to be used as garnish. And the only salads we ever saw were meat dishes ... on a bed of lettuce.

On our last night in Paris I thought we had finally stumbled upon something that looked like a salad we would understand: “frisee aux lardons”. I assumed I’d get a plate of frisee (I am the only person who would look forward to such a thing, I assume) with a bit of bacon for flavor. What I received was a plate of lettuce with a pound of diced, thick-cut bacon on top.

I will always regret that it was the one day I forgot to bring the camera.