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God bless the recession.

Ok, so maybe that is not the politically correct thing to say, especially when I have friends that are out of work. But thanks to the Democrats, they will be collecting unemployment benefits until 2819, so I have peace of mind knowing that they are going to be fine. And if it turns out that they aren't going to be fine, then I will be accepting applications for the 2010 Patriots season. Hey, neither life nor football (aren't they one in the same?) stops just because you are broke.

Because I am a glass half-full type of person, I'm always looking to turn a frown upside down. So while the rest of the world bitches and moans about inconsequential things, such as not having any money, I'm taking note of all the great things about the world's economic clusterf&ck:

• Unbelievable deals on cars. Forget cash for clunkers. You want a car? Wait until November, when the dealers are struggling again and have to get rid of the 2009 inventory. In fact, only if you were at a NAMBLA convention the day after Jack-o died would you have seen as many sad faces as you'll see at a dealership come November.
  

• Unbelievable deals on houses. Let's face it, if you don't currently own but are looking to, the market will never get any better. And I know of what I speak, having incurred a loss of more than $30K when I sold my condo. And to the woman who bought my old place: I just want you to know that I jury-rigged the sink in the 2nd bathroom to temporarily stop leaking just long enough so that it would pass inspection. Take that.
  

• Unbelievable deals on Prime steak. In fact, this bullet it so important, I am going to devote the rest of the blog entry to it.

If you know me just a little bit, then you know I am a steak snob. Several times per year, I will visit an incredibly expensive restaurant for the right to drop obscene amounts of money on steak. And why do I do this? Mostly because I have numerous and deep psychological issues. But beyond that, because these restaurants serve the very best quality of steak there is. It is called "Prime" and it is at the top of the USDA's grading scale.

This scale has 8 different grades - which are based on the amount of marbling (speckles of fat) throughout the cut and the age of the animal when it was sent to heaven. But for the purposes of this entry (and to keep you from falling asleep), we'll consider only the top 3.

USDA Prime - the best of the best. Only 2% of all beef in the country is Prime, which is the ultimate in tenderness, juiciness, and flavor. These cuts are quite pricey - usually $40 and above - and found at places such as Ruths' Chris, Smith & Wollensky, The Palm and my personal favorite: Del Friscos.

USDA Choice - Choice beef has less marbling than Prime, but it is still high quality. This is the most popular grade of beef because it contains sufficient marbling for taste and tenderness, while costing less than Prime. Just over half of the beef graded each year earns a grade of Choice. If you order a steak at most decent restaurants (i.e., not Applebees), you're likely getting a Choice cut. Generally, these steaks are $35 and below. However, there are a growing number of "nice" restaurants that are selling Choice cuts at Prime prices. Easy enough to tell, though. Look at the menu - the restaurant will almost always boast that their steaks are USDA Prime on the menu. If you don't see it, you're getting Choice. If this is the case, be sure to complain to the waiter and then kick him in the nuts. Just because.

USDA Select - This is generally a lower-priced grade of beef with less marbling than Choice. Select has the least amount of marbling, making it leaner than, but often not as tender, juicy and flavorful as the other two top grades. About a third of beef graded falls into this category. Until recently, most of the beef carried at the supermarket was Select grade. And if you order a steak at places such as Friendly's, TGIFriday's or your local coffee shop, you'll almost certainly get Select. You're better off eating a Big Mac.

So what is my point? Well, I don't have one. Except for this. Apparently, all of the doom and gloom about the economy has had quite a negative impact on the top-end restaurants that serve Prime steak. These types of places depend on businesspeople with large expense accounts and schmucks like me who indulge for a special occasion. Today, expense accounts are just enough to pay for Pizza Hut and anyone with even an iota of common sense isn't dropping $200 on dinner, so the Smith & Wollenskys of the world are really struggling.

And because these restaurants are struggling, they aren't buying nearly as many steaks as they used to. So where is all of this excess inventory going?

Costco. For $9.99 per pound.

I haven't been this excited since I was told that Santa Claus doesn't exist. Before the recession, the only place to find Prime steaks was at the aforementioned restaurants or online through the wholesaler (which included a very high markup). That's it. There simply wasn't enough to be sold through traditional retail channels.

But today? I can go over to Costco (a very convenient 3 minute drive from my office) and pick up 4 Prime ribeyes for less money than what I would spend on one steak at Ruths Chris. Crazy. And freaking awesome.

In the interest of full disclosure, you won't get the exact same taste at home with a Costco Prime steak as you would at a high-end restaurant. That is because the restaurant will let the steak age for a few weeks, season it with a few secret ingredients and cook it at a much higher temperature than you can at home. Still, the Costco Prime steak is more tender, more juicy and more flavorful than anything you can buy anywhere else. And did I mention that it's only $9.99 per pound?

So while most of the world is caught up in their "woe is me" attitude, I prefer to look on the bright side. Hopefully, the nation's economic recovery will be slow, affording me the opportunity to tailgate with Prime steaks at every Pats game this fall.

And although my birthday isn't for another 7 months, feel free to head to Costco and send me an early gift. This deal isn't going to be around forever, you know...

Vacation

For only the second time in 7 years, I took a summer vacation (the other trip was for my honeymoon, which is somewhat mandatory). Usually, I am philosophically opposed to summer vacations, which I rationalize thusly: why take time off from my warm weather home so that I can visit another warm weather city? Makes no sense. I'd rather go away when it's cooler in Boston and I can visit friends, family or poker tables in warmer climates.

However, having to clear snow off the windows of a rental car in Vegas last December effectively shot a hole in my carefully crafted theory. Global warming my tuchus. It snowed in the freaking desert. Somebody alert the Sci Fi Channel and David Arquette - sounds like the plot for the next cheesy Saturday night movie.

Anyway, for part one of the trip, Jenn and I climbed into the family truckster - which bore an eerie resemblance to a Boeing 757 - and flew to Colorado to visit my cousin Susan, her husband Evan and their kids, Ben and Ellie.

The first sign of trouble was when we left Boston and arrived in Denver on time. When does that ever happen? If that wasn't bad enough, our luggage came out in a timely fashion. Stop messing with my head, United Airlines.

Susan and family live in Fort Collins, which is about an hour north of Denver. Fort Collins is a very cool town - it is home to Colorado State University, so downtown has a ton of cool bars, restaurants and stores - while the rest of the neighborhood is clean, friendly and chock full of nice houses.

Plus, Fort Collins has a Sonic Drive-In, which alone makes it a city worth visiting. Of course, I would say the same thing about the slums of Detroit if that part of town also had a Sonic ("buy 2 burgers, get a free handgun!") , so my perspective may be a tad jaded.

Perhaps more impressively, Fort Collins is home to the New Belgium brewery, which makes a very popular beer called Fat Tire. Naturally, it isn't available in New England, but if you're ever in a place that has it on the menu, order one and tell them I sent you. Granted, your waitress won't have any idea who I am, but still.

(Side note: the first Sonic in Massachusetts is scheduled to open shortly in Peabody, which according to MapQuest is 21 miles from my office. And if you don't think I will be making at least weekly lunchtime visits, then you don't know me (or Tim) at all.)

Anyway, the time in Colorado was a chance to relive some childhood memories. When I was a kid, my grandparents moved to the Denver area (Susan and her family were already there) and I made annual summertime visits for 8 years. While I'm not much of an outdoorsman, the mountains are amazing and we kept busy visiting some very cool and oftentimes historic places.

One day last week, the six of us climbed into the family truckster - which bore an eerie resemblance to a white minivan - and headed up. While I knew where we were headed, this was Jenn's first trip to the Rockies. I assumed she would like it because she would be that much closer to God. We drove into Rocky Mountain National Park and eventually parked the car at the visitors center, which was about 12,000 feet high. To put that into perspective, if you've ever taken the Boston-to-LaGuardia shuttle, cruising altitude is about 14,000 feet.

The last time I was at the top, the entire place was covered with snow (in the summer). This time, there was a little snow on the mountainside, but none in the parking lot or along the road. Maybe there is something to this global warming thing after all.

From there, we made our way down to Estes Park, a popular tourist town about 7,500 feet up. If you've ever watched The Shining, the hotel featured in the movie is located in Estes Park.

After 3 too-short days in Colorado, we bid my cousin adieu and climbed into the family truckster - which bore an eerie resemblance to a Boeing 757 - and headed to Sunnyvale, Calif. to visit The Stewarts - my college pal A.J., his wife Darienne and their sons Calvin and Finn. Although Jenn and I make this visit at least annually, it never gets old. The Stewarts are some of our favorite people and I absolutely adore the kids.

Again, United Airlines showed their true colors be delivering another flawless travel day between Denver and San Jose. Those bastards.

The trip included our typical California adventures: hanging at beaches, tourist towns and boardwalks along the coast, a day in some neat San Francisco museums (one of which had the impressive King Tut exhibit) and wine tasting in Sonoma.

Wine tasting was particular memorable for me, as I ended the day with a pretty healthy buzz, then proceeded to somehow not embarrass myself at mini-golf (a gift to the kids for behaving themselves while the adults imbibed) and finally, experienced a decent hangover...all before dinner.

As is the case with vacations, before we knew it, it was time to come home. When I booked the trip, I picked a flight that would ensure we would get back to Boston at a reasonable time, as Jenn would have to be at church the next morning. However, the homeless, drunk, strung-out-on-drugs guy at LaGuardia who checked in for a flight with a fake bomb in his luggage first thing that morning clearly had other ideas.

Needless to say, massive delays ensued - which was unfortunate, as the family truckster that was taking us back home started the day at LaGuardia before heading to Chicago and onto San Francisco. Thankfully, Darienne had the foresight to check our flight status before we left the house, so we weren't stuck at the airport all day. As it turns out, our flight which was due to arrive in Boston at 8:30 p.m. did not land until 12:30 a.m. By the time we got home, unpacked the necessities and turned out the lights, it was 2 a.m.

Thanks a lot United. I hate you. Or at least I did, until you sent both Jenn and myself $250 vouchers for the inconvenience. All hail homeless, drunk, strung-out-on-drugs guys with fake bombs in their luggage!

Pics of the trip are on my Facebook page.