Syracuse is absolutely timeless. Nothing ever changes. Sure, the chain restaurants on Erie Blvd will come and go, and there will be a new best car wash to use (“we promise, this one is really touch free”) – but the people, sights, and happenings remain largely unchanged.

I arrived in late on a Friday night from Seattle. After a much needed Taco Bell run for some fuel, I found myself plopped back on the couch watching TV with my parents,  just like a Friday night would have gone when I was fourteen. Funny how things come full circle like that.

The fam is good, I think. I mean, I’m finding more and more reading glasses spread throughout my parents’ house and cars these days, and Dad says he has problem hearing voices in large groups – but I think they too are otherwise unaffected by the passage of time.

In true Italian form, Mother found herself spending an equal amount of time doing household chores, laundry, and getting ready as she did spending time with Dad and me. Like I said, nothing ever changes and I think it’d be uncomfortable to have it any other way. Besides, when else would Dad find time to play Halo?

This trip was a surgical strike for me, in on Friday night and out on Sunday late afternoon. But before I went, of course, Grandma called everyone to order for a Sunday dinner. Sauce all around.

Which reminds me, what’s with the old Italians always pluralizing and non-pluralizing words in the wrong direction? Here are some examples:

• “Have some macaronis”
• “Oooo, tastes just like Starbuck”
• “I’ll have the baked lasagnes (double-points for changing the word and then pluralizing)”

But that’s the fam. You know how it goes, readers. You know how it goes.