Always go for 120%

If the movie Kingpin taught us anything, it's that the Amish always try to go 20% more. I figure I'm about 333% better than the Amish because I use buttons and zippers. That means I am always striving to be 400% better than anyone else.

When I look at the youth of today I see them attempting to place a thumb or a pointer finger in their mouths. To them I say, "Pshaw." My goal is to fit my entire hand in my mouth. I have been making good progress sucking on some of my fingers and corners of my fist, but before my 12th (week) birthday I will achieve success. Oh yes, success will be mine.

Travel, travel and more travel.

I am a little overwhelmed. Today we go back over the border. The preparations have been significant, but I think we're ready.

Our plan is to drive to within a few miles of the border. At that point we are to meet a man named Miguel and continue with him on foot. Fortunately Manuel has a burro to help with our luggage. If we meet any mounties or DHS we are to pretend we are out picking berries. It is my job at that point to do what I do best - start crying loudly and frantically so that I ridiculously annoy the GMan so he lets us go.

Manuel will guide us to the Niagara River where a boat man named Moriczka will take us over the river into the US. On the other side of the river will be three billy goats, one for each of us. We will have them for dinner and then walk to I190 where we will hitchhike to beautiful Titusville, PA. The next part of our journey.

Weddings are a good time

That whole wedding thing was pretty cool. Not only did I have a good time, but I gained an aunt out of the deal.

Here's a picture of the happy (?) couple.

I got to hang out with them and my parents among many, many, many others:

The noise and Unicum did get to be a bit much. Here is one of my groupies helping me get out of the screaming mob:

Good timing

They finally accepted my offer of help and I missed my cue. My father has taught me the two keys to helping:

1. Screw it up the first time and you'll never be asked again
2. Offer to help and then make yourself unreachable or asleep.

Always a bride's sister-in-law-to-be's son, never a bride

There is some mad craziness going on north of the border. My dad and nagymama and nagypapa showed up yesterday. We hung out in this church for a while then we had a lovely dinner. Today everybody is going crazy for Piki Bacsi and Martha Neni's wedding. They all have refused my help so far. I've offered to drive stuff to the hall, assemble centerpieces, do the bride's hair - nothing. They've accepted none of my offers of help. I feel somewhat slighted and more than somewhat miffed.

You know what I say to that:

Records are like hearts. They are meant to be broken.

An amazing thing can happen when the stars are aligned, conditions are ripe and I don't have gas. The previous few nights I was not sleeping very well. I would wake up in the middle of the night with an upset tummy. My mommy would rock me and sing to me until my condition passed (literally) and then I'd fall back asleep.

Last night was different. It was special. Az anyam put me to sleep at 10pm and I didn't feel the need to wake up until 4:45am. "A thing of beauty is a joy forever". My man John Keats said that. I second that notion. Az anyam does, too. Actually, I guess that means she thirds that notion. While 6 hours 45 minutes isn't forever, it still was a thing of beauty.

Remember what I said yesterday about my butt never being on the ground because I'm held so much? Of course you do because you couldn't help but reread yesterday's magnificient post over and over again. An example is a four hour span on Saturday. Note that these pictures do not include the time I was held by parents/ grandparents/ mohels/ aunts/ uncle/ neighbors/ local dignitaries/cousins/great grandmothers/etc:

I know what you're asking yourself

You're sitting there looking at the pictures of me asking yourself two questions:
How does he keep his skin so soft and smooth?
How is life on the road?

The answer to the first question is that I get a daily bath and massage. I use nothing but Johnson & Johnson Baby Wash - Head to Toe, 100% Soap Free Dye Free And PH-Balanced and tap water, preferably from a kitchen sink.

In response to the second question, life is good on the road. My butt is almost never touching the ground, figuratively speaking, because I'm always held by someone. I do wish people would work on making their arms and upper bodies uniform. It is hard to get a consistent sleep when I have to keep adjusting to different bodies. My schedule hasn't really changed all that much and I get to do all the things I was doing so well at home - eating, sleeping and pooping.

My father is Keyser Söze

Actually, that might be a little harsh. He might not be. All I know is, he drive us to Binghamton and then he's gone. He shows up one Sunday and disappears on Monday. He flies in on Friday and out on Saturday - his arms must have been tired after that.

I'm actually thinking that he might be a spy and we're just his cover life. Or he's got another family that he keeps sneaking off to visit. Or he has to continue working while we're visiting Mom's family in Toronto. Or he's secretly training to be the next center for the Browns and has been taking out the existing ones one at a time.

Sorry for the erratic timing of the postings

It's hard to be a rockstar. Due to the demands of my travel schedule, for the next two weeks I will not be able to update this posting as frequently as I have to this point. Too many places to do and things to see.

Yesterday for example I had my first piano lesson. I might just stick with singing. The deciding factor is that I like the pianists in the family more than the singers.

Sliced bread, The Internet, WonderBra, dehydrated milk

What hasn't been invented yet?

I met my Hegedus great grandmother a few days ago. She was another fan I had the pleasure of meeting on Matthew Strada's International Tour 2006.



As she is a bit older than me, she got me to thinking about everything that's been invented in her lifetime. That's the listing in the title of the posting - a smattering of things that came to fruition during her years on this planet. There's nothing left for my generation to invent and change. I mean - they've even got a patent for a warp drive:

http://patft.uspto.gov/netacgi/nph-Parser?Sect1=PTO2&Sect2=HITOFF&p=1&u=%2Fnetahtml%2FPTO%2Fsearch-bool.html&r=1&f=G&l=50&co1=AND&d=PTXT&s1=6,960,975.PN.&OS=PN/6,960,975&RS=PN/6,960,975

My generation stinks.

We're gonna party like it's 1999

I hear that was a popular song.......23 years before I was born. I have uncles that are younger than that song. All of you who started singing the song when you read the title of the posting, the 1990s called. They said it would be nice of you to join them.

I'm talking parties to let everybody know about a little shindig coming up in a couple few weeks. My Robi Bacsi uncle will be deploying in the not too distant future to an unnamed location. This will be his last visit to the Cleveland area before that happens.

Here's a picture of me with the man:

That picture is from my skinnier days in my youth.

So far 56 people have confirmed their attendance. Don't miss out on the biggest thing to hit Avon Lake since....um....ahhhhh.....since....I dunno...has anything big ever hit Avon Lake...ummmmmm......since Prince was popular.

A link to the party info:
http://www.evite.com/pages/invite/viewInvite.jsp?event=KLLILYOUZHZKIGFELPHI

So that's the difference between Men and Women

No, not that. On Saturday I had the pleasure of spending much of Saturday surrounded by women. Lots and lots of women. They were there for a shower, but it wan't at all like I expected. When I bathe I don't get cake and open presents, but it seems like women do. These women were getting together to celebrate the marriage of these two:


Don't worry about who is wearing which hat. Canada is more liberal about that stuff. As you can tell I wasn't quite comfortable with it.

Fortunately the shower wasn't as bad as I expected. I didn't get passed around as much as I had feared. Here I am trying to escape from one of the women. She makes faces scarier than Piki Bacsi's:

Is picture taking contagious?

I'm up in Toronto without my father. Although I miss him I was happy to get away from the barrage of camera flashes. Or so I thought. Now az anyam is going crazy with the camera. The only redeeming factor in this situation is that I am ridiculously cute:

http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/stradaa/album?.dir=4601re2

The other upside is people get to be very amusing when they are taking pictures of me. They make all sorts of weird noises and silly faces. I thought my uncle Piki Bacsi was making silly, contorted faces and then I realized nope the poor guy was born with that face. How can you not laugh and smile at such a silly looking man?

Life is but a dream which might be why I love to sleep

Sleep is good. Sleeping on someone is better. Sleeping on my mother right after she has fed me is the shizznick. Importantly I can move from left to right on this scale, but not right to left. Exempli gratia, if I fall asleep in my bassinet and you put me on your shoulder I will grumble at first, but then fall back into a contented sleep. However, don't you dare take me off your shoulder and place me into a cold, flat, hard bassinet.

Last night my dear mother did not seem to understand this. She was holding me very comfortably after my nighttime feedings and I just wanted to continue sleeping, but noooooo she had to go and put me into the bassinet. It would be a lot easier on us both if she just kept holding me throughout the night.

Ignore that previous posting

I am unhappy.

My hopes for a quick windfall were dashed by the insidious forces called parents. My father's comment was, "You will be held for free and you will like it." I'm going to show him....people can hold me but I don't have to like it:

The trip up here was pretty uneventful and easy. I just had to sit a lot. This travel thing is pretty easy. I could get used to it.

Toronto is pretty similar to Bridgeport. Nice people trying to amuse me. My big complaint is the relative lack of ceiling fans. On the plus side they have a very comfortable changing table that reminds me of the one I've grown up with:

Don't I deserve to go to College?

The Matthew Strada Tour 2006 has begun. In talking to my nagypapa, I realized that I am in control of a rare commodity that will be in demand during the tour. No, not oil fields in Horizon Estates in El Paso. ME!!! I am the commodity. Therefore, I plan on auctioning off my time on eBay. We'll start the bidding at $1/minute of "hold Mate" time in 15 minute increments. I'll be paying off the Harvard tuition in days. After all, wouldn't holding this precious bundle of joy for a few minutes worth the cost of a week's worth of mocha Frappuccinos®:

I figure certain slots on specific days will go for big bucks. For example, there won't be any need for reserve pricing on the day of Piki Bacsi and Martha Neni's wedding. Cserkesznap, forgetaboutit.

Funds received over and above the anticipated tuition costs will go to the Send Mom and Dad to Caneel Bay fund.

I've got skills. Almost.

Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday, dear Mate. Happy birthday to me.

Today is my eight week birthday. Thank you all for the well wishes.

I enjoy sucking on pacifiers/soothers as much as any male Strada. However, synthetic composites are just not the same as good, old-fashioned natural materials. I've been trying to suck on my hand for the last week or two. This skill is not nearly as simple as it looks - not only do you have to know where your mouth is and be able to control your hand, you have to be able to guide your hand into your mouth. I'd say it's like walking and chewing gum, but I can't do either of those.

In any event, here is a video that is destined to be shown on my wedding day of me trying to put my hand in my mouth:

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=5012370001785038812

You may feel sorry for me and my poor attempts on display in that video. Fear not because a short while later: success.

What is up with kids these days?

If I may, I'd like to get up on a soapbox for a few minutes:

I'm lazing around, getting ready for The Matthew Tour 2006. My dad is teaching me how to use a "mirror" and preen myself. I'm not sure I should be taking preening and beautifying instruction from him, but mother was busy:

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-5932964236637833378&hl=en

That mirror thing is truly amazing. It has to be the coolest thing since sliced bread. What is even more cool than just looking in the mirror is sticking your tongue out while looking in the mirror. Seriously. No. I'm mad serious. Give it a try. When is the last time you stuck your tongue out in the mirror and made silly faces?

But I digress. It was then that I had a revelation - what is up with all this stuff? I've got mirrors above my head, ceiling fans whirring, animals dangling, dad making faces, animals in bright colors underneath me. All I really want is somebody to dangle a burp cloth in front of my face. That's all the amusement I really want. It's not a wonder kids get ADD.

Here I am looking for relief from the sensory overload looming above my head:

August 3, 2006. A day that will live in infamy.

I have some big plans for today. Ginormous plans. Gargantuan plans:

I am going to get some rest. Then I'm going to eat some. Then I'll probably stay awake for a while. I will most likely lie on my back staring at the ceiling fan and playing with my mother. Maybe stick my tongue out a few times. After a while I'll get a bit grouchy so my mother will carry me around in the Baby Bjorn. I'll grouse for a bit in there and then I'll fall asleep. After 20 minutes of sleeping in there I'll realize that I'm hungry and complain until I get fed. At this point I'll be ready for my late morning nap.



However, as soon as mother takes me out of the Bjorn I'll wake up and be grouchy again. She will rock me to sleep by singing songs about fisherman who catch red-mouthed sunfish that eat parsley roots and red-brown girls in fields of bald wheat. I will sleep until after my mother's shower when it's time for food. At this point I'll really be craving some Spam, but my mother won't understand what I'm asking for, so I'll get more milk.


After eating I'll have another chance to play with my mother. I'll have her read me a book - either some Dostoevsky or the one with the farm animals and the noises they make. After that more food and an afternoon nap.



Then my dear father will come home hoping to play with me. At this point in my day I will be tired and grouchy and my stomach will be bothering me a little, so I will demur. He will then carry me around and try and trick me into taking a pacifier. When the old people sit down to eat I will contentedly sit in the swing for three minutes, four if I'm feeling generous. I've learned to enjoy the swing - it reminds me of my youth, like when I was only four weeks old. I will then kick and scream until I get a pacifier dipped in gripe water, the nectar of the gods. At this point I would normally go for a walk, but due to the Africa-like conditions outside I won't.


We'll then end the evening with a lengthy, lengthy feeding and some songs about full boats passing by our house asking if we have oats for sale and black grapes ripening in autumn. Then I'll get some sleep to prepare for another zany day.

Coming soon to a town near you....Destined to be bigger than David Hasselhoff's 1989 tour

The Matthew Strada 2006 International Tour

Inspired by his recent birth, Matthew is going on an internation tour to spread his unique blend of crying, grunting and tongue-wagging.

He will be touring with his special guest, Mom, aka Monica.

In select cities and on certain dates, Matthew will welcome his dad, Andriska.

Stay tuned for more information.

What can I say?

The old guy, although his reflexes are slow, caught me. He finally got a picture of my tongue blowing in the wind:

I have a tongue. Do you have a tongue?

Over the weekend I figured out the coolest thing. I have a tongue. But wait - it gets better. I can push my tongue out of my mouth. It is the zaniest most fun thing EVER. You have to give it a try. After I showed my parents they started doing it too. We now show each other our tongues until they start giggling. I don't know why they find it funny - the wonder and ability of the human body is something to appreciate and behold, not mock.

The part of this whole brouhaha that is funny is when my dad tries to take a picture of me with my tongue out I pull it back in. Then he takes the picture. Right after the flash goes I can push my tongue out again until it recharges and he's ready for another picture. That is when I pull it back in.

This is the closest that dad has gotten to me with my tongue out:


I must reiterate something I said in a previous post. I am ridiculously cute.