I'd really like to recap my brother and his lady's fantastic visit up here - it was fantastic, though I was pretty much an embarrassing drunk, on some level - but there was a revelation that happened right as they were about to arrive that is far too important to not open with.

Ok. Here. Just learned this weekend:
Asparagus makes your urine stink. I mean, reek something awful.

You probably knew that. Everyone, it turns out, knows it, except for the Ruds.

How does asparagus, and its urine-stink, come up in conversation?

A timeline:

Wednesday night, 830ish: I make asparagus. Steamed, with some lemon. The leftovers go to my plastic thing for lunch purposes.

Wednesday night / Thursday morning: I definitely notice a urine-stink. I had had probably four beers over a three-hour stretch, so I was some level of buzzed. I attribute the urine-stink to skunky Miller Genuine Draft. Canned.

Thursday, lunch: I get in a conversation with a coworker, a former sous-chef, about asparagus. He gives me great asparagus on the grill tips. Turns out, asparagus is one of his favorite foods - he used to pick it wild in his backyard, and eat it 10 minutes later. Pretty awesome.

Thursday, drive home: I relate this story to the Carpool-mate. I tell him that our friend the former sous-chef really loves asparagus, one of his favorite foods. Carpoolmate responds, "Remind me not to stand next to him when he's peeing." Me: "Huh." He: "Asparagus makes your piss stink." Me: "Whoa. I noticed my pee stank today. I figured it was the skunky beer." He: "It was the asparagus."

Thursday, early evening: The Boy calls. We hatch plans. They're just arriving in town, or perhaps about to arrive in town. Plans mostly firmed, I ask, "Did you know that asparagus makes your urine smell?" He laughs. He's stunned by the question. He answers aloud: "No. I did not know that asparagus makes your urine smell. By the way, I'm saying it out loud just so that she'll hear what a ridiculous question you just asked." The lady: "You didn't?" Boy: "She said, 'You didn't?' "

And thus, a quest. Who does know that asparagus makes your urine stink? Are we somehow left out of this game? How did everyone find out?

Flash forward, Friday at dinner (this will be the only actual story)
We (the Boy, his lady, myself) sit down. We dilly-dally, as they say, in making our order. The waitress has bragged about the indoor margaritas as compared to the outdoor margaritas. There's a rapport there. She's fun.

After we order our chicken quesadillas, we order our entrees. As a side, The Boy and I go with the fantastic sweet potato with candied walnuts. The lady goes with "steamed seasonal vegetables."

We've finished our quesadillas, we're on our second round of drinks, perhaps starting the third, and the main course comes out.

Her side item: Asparagus. Quite a bit of it.
The reaction: Uproarious laughter, obviously.

The waitress gets defensive. We assure her, we're not laughing at her.

Eventually, she comes back with more drinks, or something. She makes reference to us laughing at her. Again, we assure her that it's not her. I finally say, "We're laughing about the vegetables, if you must know."

She responds, without hesitation, "What? The pee smell?"

And now, my friends, the laughter gets turned to 11. It was out of this world.

- - - - -

I'd say the total amount surveyed wasn't that great. I think the total count surveyed was six. Five of six knew about the urine smell. Some "just knew." Others knew because of Austin Powers, apparently. The oldest person surveyed did not know. Possibly because she's older and, in her time, people didn't talk about things like the stink of their pee.

Also, Tina knew. I forgot to ask Gurs when I was speaking with him. Did you know?

Of Ruds surveyed (five total), none knew. I'd think the sixth would know, what with his being a vegan and all, but I can't be sure. After all, the vegetarian did not know.

I think this is fascinating. Particularly because I think the Ruds eat/ate a better-than-average amount of asparagus. I can't think of an analogous thing that people might not know. But, yeah, I'm fascinated. Did you know about the pee smell?

- - - - - - -

Is there anything else worth recapping? Probably not. It's just great to see that kid, you know?

There was a psychological breakthrough that occurred on my end, probably three years ago. At that point, I was (somewhat) jokingly repeating that I had two actual friends: Gurs and Nemo, of course. At some point, again, three years ago or so (maybe the time he called me, just because he was looking for someone to talk to, while driving a Dodge Durango near the fourth tee up in The Ring Fingernail, avoiding the rest of the family; he had exercised other options already, but there remained time to kill), and it started with ND football, and it continued with NU football, and then it morphed into life, on some level. I don't know when it happened. I guess it was probably when he agreed to come to The 'Port in the interest of a two-day road trip to Kansas City, June of 2003. (Read the blogs from June. Quick-hitting. Fun. I kind of wish I could get back to that, but I live a different-paced life now. Probably more hanging out now. Definitely more time devoted to cooking and cleaning and the like. [I used to clean, say, twice a year. Now, it's more like monthly. Actually, bi-weekly.] And definitely a less-interesting job, etc.)

Anyway, at that moment, when The Boy had just finished his sophomore year, I changed the list to "Three friends." I'm really, really happy to consider him a friend. Not just a brother, which is different, and is wrought with different requirements, connotations, obligations. This has morphed into real friendship, I think, which is purely a matter of choice. And it's awesome.

Anyway, the visit was simply a nice time. Nothing particularly notable (though the two of them jumped out of a plane, which is pretty notable, and pretty badass). But mostly, just hanging out. I bought Thursday. They bought Friday. We split Saturday.

A bar on Thursday night, an outdoor dinner and a bar with an uncomfortably loud band on Friday, the beach on Saturday afternoon, a ballgame on Saturday night, a dive on Saturday post-night, and a stomach-curdling breakfast on Sunday. Stomach-curdling in the good way. No dollar Mooseheads, the only miss. But there were Mad Libs, a strong hit. And we got to chant, chant, chant for the home team, though nobody else really joined in. They met the two most worth-meeting compadres, though they would've met two more had they been less old. (Youth is wasted on the young, this 27-year-old says.)

They were out by 9 Sunday morning, and it sounds like they were home by one. It's a wonderful, happy experience to have had. Sometimes, sometimes, it makes me wish I were in the C-H-I. But, then again, this is about the most beautiful place in the world, in its own way.

(I should mention that this is only the second time I've met the lady. She's comfortable making asparagus-pee jokes, which is certainly worth something [good]).

It sounds like they made Sunday a productive one. Me, I spent it in a food coma, prone on the couch, 30 minutes awake, ten minutes asleep, repeat, watching El Pato, El Tigre, and Senor Furyk. Aaron, sadly, played Baddeley.

- - - - - - - -

Let's talk "Friends," but only briefly. I've always had "Friends," never have I had people I considered "Drinking Buddies," which is far different and far less significant. I've found myself with "Drinking Buddies," which are certainly useful to have. They may develop into "Friends," but right now they're just "Drinking Buddies." Good, but not great.

Perhaps if I were less concerned about "Drinking," I'd have more "Friends" and fewer "Drinking Buddies." It's something I've decided to work on. Period. Cokes for me, on occasion, anyway.

- - - - - - - - -

Let's talk "Friends," actual "Friends." Or, rather, Friends. (No quotes. No need to use quotes here.)

I just got off the phone with my Friend Tina, and I found out, completely unbeknownst to me, that she's on her way to the Upper Midwest four days from now. As I write, in fact, less than 100 hours from now.

What this means, dear readers, is that E2 will be 100 percent reunited, less than 100 hours from now. Truly, it's amazing. Six people, and we never actually all lived together at the same time, but we're all still in contact ... almost six years later. (March 2002 is when I left E2, and the lease was up August 2002. That's a long time.)

So, here's the anticipated attendance and, more amazingly, where they're coming from ("Beer on a Lake" takes place near Detroit):

Harps, the man of honor - D.C.
Deedz - Atlanta
Jenny - Chicago
Tina - Seattle (and, kind of, Paris)
Nemo - Ann Arbor (and, kind of, Poland)
Me - The Ring Fingernail

I don't know, dear readers, that's a pretty fantastic haul. I had no idea it was happening, and I think it's something to truly, really be proud of.

It's a pretty amazing group. I kind of hope someone owns a camera. I don't. (Jenny does.)

Harps is absolutely the best. The rest of them, too, obviously.

- - - - - - - - - -

I think there were other things I wanted to cover. Probably about my booze consumption (too much, and too frequent). Maybe about Gurs' pending visit (Thursday-Saturday, promises to be fantastic). Maybe about a hoped-for visit from my sister over the Fourth of July, or maybe about the fact that I've tentatively decided that a mid-July trip back to the CHI is worth my time. Or maybe about the fact that I've been consuming R.E.M. lately. The band, not sleep, certainly. (Even Up, I'm serious.) Or maybe about how awesome The Long Blondes record is. Or maybe about how I'm geeked that the new White Stripes album is getting strong reviews.

Mostly, I'd like to write about my dad. But, well, it's almost three. I leave for work in less than four hours. It'll happen.

But now, instead, my heart's all aflutter with thoughts of this weekend. It'll be so, so, so awesome. Wow.

Maybe I'll write before then; I'd like to, in fact. But, in all likelihood, it'll just be reaction Sunday night.