This post brought to you by Soccer Mom in Denial - posting every Monday on a different musical memory.
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Are you a fan of Bollywood, Teletubbies, and HIV prevention?
I am!
And if you are too, this is the video for you! (Not for the kids)
I made onto Looking Into again!
I made a distinct effort over Christmas to take photos that were something more than documentary. Denver really leant itself to artistic photos - mostly taken by my husband.
I especially like this particular photo (that I took!) of the Denver train station because I love to travel and travel by rail is one of my fondest childhood memories.
And now with lots of travel expected in the new year I will continue to look for those "Looking Into" kind of shots. Except for airports where armed guards usually attack you if you try snapping a photo. Will avoid that.
This post brought to you by Soccer Mom in Denial - posting every Monday on a different musical memory.
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If you were like any kid in the 80's, heck any kid today, you got a bit of your fashion advice from your favorite rock stars.
It's okay, you can tell me, you had the Flock of Seagulls haircut. How much hairspray did it take to keep that do going in all different directions? You don't need to run so far away when I ask that question.
Or maybe you modeled your hair after Heart? Tease me. Please. How big was the comb you used to get that frizz to perfection? These dreams don't scare me.
Did you show off your cute legs with a mini-skirt inspired by our favorite girl band the Go-Go's? You can tell me, my lips are sealed.
Don't worry, you can confess here. I won't tell anyone. I'm just sitting here typing away in my Madonna-inspired lace gloves. I know, I'm borderline insane.
This post brought to you by Soccer Mom in Denial - posting every Monday on a different musical memory.
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This being MLK Day and being inspired by SMID's posting this week (Huckabee? Oh God help us!) I thought I would post on songs that inspired me to action.
I've been a bit of an activist all my life - hardly compared to some friends - but pretty much known among others as the one ready for a fight. Pick your battle, I'm in.
So this week's post is dedicated to those favorite songs that make me want to get up and do something.
Top of the List: "Talkin Bout A Revolution" by Tracy Chapman. I remember when this came out - heyday of George the 1st, successor to Reagan, one-termer. The "what me, worry?" president. Your own people can rise up against you when you dismiss and ignore them.
"Stop Children What's That Sound?" by Buffalo Springfield - I remember hearing this Vietnam Era classic on the Muppet Show. Hey, listen up! Pay attention!
and finally, a song that was adapted from another in response to Hurricane Katrina. oh, how far we have not come...(this one not for the kids)
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To follow up on my Campaign Songs posting last week - the Washington Post wrote an article on the very same topic!
Earlier this week I posted a phrase that I seem to be saying a lot these days. Quite honestly, I've been saying it for years. Someone thought it might be from a movie - Fast Times At Ridgemont High, for instance. No, it was uttered to a friend by our favorite neighborhood barman.
Way back in the early 90's a good friend (we'll call her Cathy) and I lived in the West Village in NYC. This was pre-super rent increase (though rents were still astronomically high) and we had a local bar that still maintained a regular (not yuppy) clientele and regular bartenders. The jukebox was fantastic, the beers cheap, wood-paneled walls, and the best burgers ever. Hands down. No kidding. It was such a happy place...
One night we were hanging out as usual and there was another woman who was falling down drunk, literally. At one point she collapsed on the floor. Cathy, being a lifeguard during the summers, moved into full-on rescue mode and dialed 911. While waiting for the ambulance, the woman's friends picked her up and carried her out of the bar.
The ambulance arrives with two very laidback EMTs who have come to rescue the fair maiden. Who is now gone. Cathy talks to them and tells them that the woman has been carried away by her friends and apologizes for bothering the EMTs. They're pretty cool and tell her no problem. Dude. Off they go.
Cathy is feeling a bit stupid for having reacted so strongly. I assure her she did the right thing, the woman had literally collapsed. Tommy, the bartender leans over and in his thick Irish brogue says:
"Next time someone does something crazy like that, you see that she's breathing, check her wallet for money, then ask her 'what are you smoking, and can I have some.'"
"They send one of ours to the hospital, we send one of theirs to the morgue. "
"What are you smoking and can I have some?"
This post brought to you by Soccer Mom in Denial - posting every Monday on a different musical memory.
This week SMID is out of commission - the details of which will no doubt show up under a posting for "parental horror". Please let me know that you will be posting!
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In light of the recent activity around the upcoming presidential election I started thinking about campaign songs. Some original, some from bands we all know. What makes a good campaign song? I have no idea.
Here's a few that I thought were pretty interesting:
1932: Franklin Delano Roosevelt: "Happy Days Are Here Again" which was totally appropriate to the time
1972: George McGovern: "Bridge Over Troubled Water" which I very much love and was appropriate to the time, but don't you think it's a bit morose?
1984: Ronald Reagan: "Born in the U.S.A." which I think is particularly funny since Bruce Springsteen asked Reagan to stop using it - Go Bruce!
1988: Michael Dukakis: "Coming to America", an odd choice since I think it's about immigration. Doubt that would go over well today!
1992: Ross Perot: "Crazy", toooo funny! I love Patsy Cline but don't you think this song's title isn't quite the image you want to project? And a bit slow and romantic at that.
2004: John Kerry: "No Surrender". Ouch.
2008: Hillary Clinton: "You and I" by Celine Dion - demonstrating that letting the public vote isn't necessarily a good thing.
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Want to read more about Music Monday?
A2eatwrite declares herself Nerd Princess - yay Nerds!
Cablegirl (aka 42) illuminates War Pigs - hmmm....
Wholly Burble has thrown her hat in the ring this Monday
This post is written today in honor of our family cat, Eloise, who passed away last week at the ripe old age of 18. She lived a full life, as evidenced by the following true story which she participated in.
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In September 1999, due to various transitions in our family, my sister and I found ourselves housesitting (and cat sitting) for our Mom in Savannah, GA. At the time, my sister and I were between homes and Mom was in Europe on a hike about to meet the man she would later marry. As my sister, Jenn, and I were homeless we also had our pets with us - the total in the house being 6 cats and 1 dog. Sounds like a lot but the house was pretty spacious. Blitzen, Eloise, Henri, Hector, Sophie, Lucy, and Wilma (the dog). And me and Jenn.
We were enjoying ourselves in this lovely coastal home overlooking a marsh when some friends from NY called one night - "Are you watching the news?". No. "There's a hurricane coming and you need to evacuate." Alrighty, then. We turned on the TV and the local news was on red alert - everyone must evacuate, Hurricane Floyd is going to hit the Georgia/South Carolina coast. Everyone.
We ran around the house putting away objects that might become projectiles should the glass doors on the house be smashed. We contacted Mom briefly to ask what we should pack in the car - important papers in a box and the rest of it would have to stay. To her credit, she didn't require us to pack all of her possessions - good thing, because the car wouldn't hold it all - what with the 6 cats and 1 (large) dog. Oh boy.
My sister furiously called around to hotels further inland and the best we could do was a motel in Augusta, GA - about 3 hours away. We packed up the car (thank God it was a station wagon!) and headed out. More like crawled. 10 hours of crying cats later, we got to Augusta. The country's 2nd largest evacuation had kinda clogged the roads. Hmmm.....lesson learned by FEMA??
We finally arrive at the motel and when Jenn checks in she discovers that there is a $25 per pet charge - per night. That would be twice our bill and half our income- thankfully, to enter the rooms at the motel you went from outside - no toting anything through the lobby. So under the cover of darkness, and with several trips, we managed to get everyone into our room. Two double beds proved to be sufficient - everyone had a place to sleep. After awhile we got kind of bored and started playing badminton (we had the forethought to pack rackets and shuttlecocks before we left Savannah). That proved mildly entertaining to our sacked-out companions.
The next day we realized we had to leave our room - taking everyone with us - since housekeeping was going to come by. So back in the car went our menagerie and we began to drive around Augusta. We stopped for lunch at a restaurant where we could see the car from our table. Went to a museum for a short visit - the city had made all museums free for the evacuees. And then we drove around trying to figure out what to do next.
The radio stations were in full evacuation mode - "thousands of people homeless, big storm coming" - and they kept asking people to drop off supplies at the local storm shelters. Heeding their pleas we went to the grocery store and stocked up on diapers, shampoo and baby food and headed off to one of these shelters. As we were walking into the shelter with economy size diaper packages a local TV crew filmed us. Later on that evening we ended up on the 7 o'clock news - "Locals help out hurricane victims". Ironic, given that we're from NY.
All the while we were sending emails to everyone to let them know we were okay - and on TV! Mom would get these emails at each stop along the hike and read them to her companions at dinner. Endless entertainment.
After another night in the motel we were free to go home - and in just under 3 hours we were back at mom's house. Lots of tree branches everywhere but otherwise everything was intact. Except the one dish that Jenn broke while trying to pack Mom's valuables safely away. But you can hardly blame that on Floyd.
Oh, I'm having 4th grade nightmares all over again. We had to record the number of books we read and our totals were posted prominently on the wall. Despite being the best speller in the class, I didn't do speed reading. I've never excelled at reading "competitions". I just read whatever, wherever, whenever.
I could peruse an atlas for hours, go through hundreds of National Geographic magazines, pour through volumes of recipes - but ask me to count the number of books I read and I just fall short.
And now with Day to Read, I've failed at even the simplest thing - reading a page. I wanted to, really I did. But I spent a whole day in an intense office retreat and then went to a concert (I read the program!) and at the end of it all my brain was mush. Mush mush mush.
I promise, tomorrow is DEFINITELY Day to Read for me! And no excuses about the dog eating my homework. But there will probably be a cat reading over my shoulder.
Ah, my heart is warm (and not because it's steamy outside!)
This post brought to you by Soccer Mom in Denial - posting every Monday on a different musical memory.
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I was watching the movie Wordplay (which is awesome if you're a big NY Times crossword geek like me - includes Jon Stewart who is hilarious!) and there was a song playing that I couldn't quite place. The tune was familiar, the singer was familiar, but they didn't match. My puzzling mind tried to figure it out.
Finally it came to me - Shawn Colvin singing This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody) - a song I've known to be sung by the Talking Heads. She did a wonderful version of it and I even felt like I heard phrases I'd never heard before. A positive effort all around.
And that got my puzzling mind thinking about remakes (not covers - which are more like what wedding singers or Las Vegas bands do) of other famous songs - and maybe not always so successful. Here's a list of a few remakes I like - can you add any others?
Puzzling minds want to know...
I know none of you will shed a tear for me on this one. Probably throw tomatoes. But here goes.
I started a new job this past week. The first job I've had in an office in 3 years. In case you think I've been completely unemployed, I have been working - just from home. The consulting stuff got to be too unstable, and benefits too appealing, so I took a job (with more travel and interesting work too) and so it's back to the office for me. I think I'm prepared - I've been watching The Office for 3 years.
Well, at least I thought I was. Here's my past week's foibles:
Now here are the good parts just so you don't think I'm a total whiner:
MADISON - New video was released of a police chase in Madison. Dash cam video shows officers pursuing a man in a stolen Krispy Kreme truck! You can see doughnuts literally flying out of the back. Police eventually caught up with the suspect. The cops say he was drunk.
Police recover doughnuts
HARRISBURG, Pa. (AP) — Police followed a trail of doughnuts to find a stolen Krispy Kreme delivery truck.
"It has a happy ending," Swatara Township Sgt. Robert Simmonds said. "The evidence was brought back to the police station, and the cops are eating the doughnuts."
It was 12:45 a.m. Thursday when Krispy Kreme deliveryman Tim Trostle stopped at a Swatara Township convenience store and left the engine running as he made the delivery. Someone fled with the truck, but since Trostle had left the back doors open, police were able to follow a trail of doughnuts.
The doughnut trail ended before long, but police in a nearby township found a doughnut cart near the Harrisburg city line. City police found the truck near a downtown bar.
No arrests were immediately made. The truck was returned to the company.
Although Simmonds had been joking about police taking the contents of the truck, he acknowledged seeing Krispy Kreme doughnuts in a station conference room Thursday.
"I suspect that the manager from the Krispy Kreme might have given us a little thank you for our efforts," he said.
Thieves Find Hole In Plan
TWO crack cocaine smokers left a 15-mile trail of doughnuts after they took a delivery truck from a car park lot.
The truck was parked at a store with its rear doors open and engine running while a Krispy Kreme delivery man carried doughnuts inside, police in Slidell, Louisiana, said.
They abandoned the truck when they were spotted by police responding to reports of a driver losing his doughnuts.
A police spokesman said: "I don’t know if it was a need for transportation or if they just had the munchies."
This post brought to you by Soccer Mom in Denial - posting every Monday on a different musical memory.
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A recent article in the Washington Post got me thinking about how I hear about new music. The article talked about how the Recording Industry Association of America is suing a man because he copied CDs (that he purchased!) onto his own computer. Yep, that's it. Not copying and sending to a friend. Not posting on a website where others can download it. Just doing what millions of iPod owners do every day. Scary.
Enough about how the RIAA is trying to kill music. It got me thinking about how I acquire new music - sometimes (oh please, government don't read this post) friends will send me inspirational CDs, or a copy of some songs from an artist they think I might like. Generally speaking it's music I wouldn't otherwise purchase - I hadn't heard it before and the artist isn't someone I would seek out. And I no longer listen to the radio.
I remember growing up we would always have the radio on in the car. Driving around with Dad it was WQXR (classical). Driving to school with my siblings it was WLIR (alternative - during the 80's). In college it was WHFS (alternative in Baltimore/Washington). Many of these stations sadly no longer exist or if they do the music is very different (all talk, Latin). And I no longer own a car. On the rare occasion when I am in a car I now have satellite radio which lets me choose exactly which genre I want - back to the 80's for the most part - or we set up the iTrip and choose from what we already own. Our stereo at home might have a radio - I have no idea. Our alarm clock plays NPR.
So how do I acquire music nowadays? Read my friends' blogs, go to a movie, and get mix CDs for special occasions. Uh oh, better hide.
Here's my weekly plug for Day to Read. This week it's all about The New Yorker magazine. Oh how I love it.
I grew up "reading" this magazine - mostly the cartoons when I was younger. They have by far the greatest cartoon collection of any magazine. Perhaps the only one. Legendary. They were my funny pages (seeing as the NY Times didn't have comics). My Dad had a few of Peter Arno's cartoons on the wall in his office. When Dad retired he gave the cartoons to partners in his practice. It's the one item in his office I was truly sorry to see go.
In DC, the #42 bus is also known as the New Yorker bus. Every morning as it wound its way through Mount Pleasant, Adams Morgan, and Dupont Circle, you could see all sorts of people reading their latest issues - I always knew when mine had arrived late just by looking at the cover of other people's magazines.
One thing I remember very distinctly about first meeting my husband is that he had a subscription - as did I. When we married, we merged our accounts and now we have to share. Good thing he's better about sharing the New Yorker than he is about sharing the NY Times.
My favorite writers are David Sedaris for his acerbic wit and Seymour Hersh for his unrelenting criticism of this administration. On occasion there is also Atul Gawande with medical conundrums and Malcolm Gladwell on sociological phenomena.
The covers are equally legendary - sometimes a quaint comment on reading or weather and sometimes a strong criticism on our world leaders. Always a painting or drawing - never a photograph or list of contents. Truly, a work of art.
Many people look to the groundhog as the harbinger of spring. I look for Eustace Tilly on the cover of the New Yorker - the guy in the top hat with the monocle. Then I know, it's only six more weeks of winter.
And of course we did other things - shopped, ate, survived snowstorm. Highly recommend the city. We'll be back in August.
This post brought to you by Soccer Mom in Denial - posting every Monday on a different musical memory.
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Seeing as it's Christmas Eve I thought I would share a holiday musical story.
Only I couldn't think of one. So instead you get blood and gore.
Today we went to see Sweeney Todd - the film version of the very popular and successful Broadway musical. My dad saw the Broadway show many many years ago but somehow failed to remember, or perhaps it was because the stage version was less bloody, that this wasn't a terribly "uplifting" film. I didn't expect that it would be a happy story, but a little less throat slitting would have been nice. That said, I highly recommend the film. Johnny Depp is amazing. Helena Bonham Carter (who was also fantastic in Harry Potter) shines again - as a grim character. And Alan Rickman, ever the evil character, lives up to his previous roles.
My musical moment is this - over the years I have heard or read the lyrics to any number of Sondheim's musicals. Unfortunately, I never got to all the shows and thus only lived off of the songs - without the backstory. Who knew "Pretty Women" and "Not While I'm Around" were staged in such gruesome circumstances. No bother, I will be purchasing the soundtrack next week.
Just a quick update on a previous SOS.
Lucy's sob story made the Washington Post.
Not only does our cat live, she is famous.
Be warned, this post is about how great I am. I have proof. We had a party last weekend and I baked and fried myself silly. Just wanted to share two emails I received on Monday.
"you outdid yourself as usual. I ate at least 5 potatoes worth of latkes and as many donuts, which really turned out well. and a scone and and... MMMMmm. DOOH NUT. Still thinking about them."
"Thanks again for a great brunch and of course the best doughnuts ever! We both had a great time and can’t wait for the next time that we’ll get to have those little mouthfuls of deep-fried, jelly-filled goodness! (and to see you both of course)"
I am thrilled to have finally made onto Looking Into!
I'm one of those people who tends not to take photos and even when I do it's more to document that I've been someplace - almost like a CSI photographer.
With lots of travel expected in the new year I can hopefully get some more artistic shots - and just let the passport stamps tell where I've been.
Go check out my artistic debut!
Putting in another plug for Day to Read. Don't get all freaked out if you can't read a book for whatever reason - screaming kids, pounding hangover, spoiled Christmas egg nog - there are other things you can read with a shorter attention span. Like the newspaper.
With the internet, newspaper reading has become a lost art. There's something not quite the same about scrolling around, jumping from page to page, reading "what other people emailed". I read more of the paper when I'm reading a PAPER. I'll be focused on one article and out of the corner of my eye I'll spy a word or a headline or a photo which grabs my attention - "ooh, go there next!"
In our house we get both the Washington Post and The New York Times delivered daily. It makes for a lot of paper. During the week my husband and I sit in bed and read the Post - he gets the front section first and I start with Style. It's the ritual, I can't change it. When he leaves for work (I work from home) he picks up the NY Times outside our building (seems only the Post has keys to the place), and takes it to work with him. So Monday through Friday, I get only the Post.
But on the weekends, oh the lovely weekends, we share the NY Times. I love the Saturday crossword puzzle and often have to fight him for it - it's generally in the Arts section. And Sunday, heavenly Sunday, is hours of entertainment.
Here's my ritual:
First I hit the wedding pages in Sunday Styles - on more than one occasion I've come across people I know and it's fun to see what they're doing (and who they're doing I suppose). I also like to read about people I don't know and place odds on the union. Some combos are just too hard to believe. Some I imagine ending badly in some torrid affair. Some have nothing in their biography but their parents' professions. Yours truly had a better announcement - although the lead line "Ms. Rose, 38, is keeping her name." seemed to indicate I was destined to be a spinster. Grrrrrrr.
Next I like to go to the Ethicist in the magazine. Love the conundrums and while I love Randy Cohen's writing style, sometimes I bristle at his advice. It is possible to be both an ethical and a horrible human being at the same time.
If there's a medical mystery in the magazine that week I go to that next. "Yes, Addison's disease! That's what I suspected too!"
Finally I hit the Week in Review. With the writer's strike the late night jokes listed on page 2 aren't as good. But the collection of political cartoons (the only time you'll ever see cartoons in the Times) from around the country are wonderful! After that it's some Frank Rich to get me all pissed off at Bush (yet again).
Then I move on - maybe travel, maybe real estate, perhaps the business section.
Whatever tickles my reading fancy.
This post brought to you by Soccer Mom in Denial - posting every Monday on a different musical memory.
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Growing up with older siblings, my musical taste was heavily influenced by the records (LPs, big black disks) that my brother and sister would get for Christmas.
I very clearly remember a string of years with Donny & Marie (particularly the year of the purple rag look), Shaun Cassidy (red and white striped t-shirt, Da Do Ron Ron) and John Denver (Greatest Hits). These gifts were specifically given to my sister, but in a house where there was one turntable, everyone listened to these records.
I'm over Donny & Marie - not sure that I ever really was under them. And my Shaun Cassidy crush probably lasted all of a month. To this day, I am still in love with John Denver. Sadly, he was killed in a plane crash - ironic given that one of his most famous songs was about leaving on a (jet) plane.
Take Me Home Country Roads - who could love West Virginia so much?
Leaving on a Jet Plane - the saddest song about leaving a loved one.
Sunshine on My Shoulders - I vaguely remember this being sung on The Muppet Show
Rocky Mountain High - I'm in love with Colorado, a place I only ever briefly visited
and finally, Annie's Song. One of the most beautiful love songs ever. Sadly, he and Annie split, but it's still magical. "You fill up my senses." Sigh.
Nope, this isn't a post about romantic relationships gone bad - it's about breaking bones.
We had a party today and absent was a dear friend of mine - she broke her arm a couple of weeks ago. I told her story to many friends who wondered where she was - I owe her for making my cocktail chatter more interesting. But boy, am I glad I'm not her right now.
A couple of weeks ago she was at a party and slipped on some water, put her hand down and broke her wrist. I've seen her fall before - and she has fallen hard. She once fell off of a trail while snowboarding - over the ledge and into the ditch. A bit sore but that's it. I once watched her fall in a bar - no bodily bruises, just a crushed ego.
So she puts her hand down to catch her fall and hurts her wrist. She's in pain for a week and half but figures it's just a sprain and keeps popping ibuprofen. Her husband finally convinces her to see a doctor. A few hours and a few x-rays later the doctor announces that not only has she broken her wrist - she broke the smallest, most difficult-to-heal bone. She will need surgery.
Friday morning she went in for surgery - they put her under, tube down her throat, the whole nine yards. The gave her something called the "painbuster" - numbed her entire arm so much so that she felt nothing and had to be careful not to accidentally hurt herself, for lack of feeling.
She'll be in this puffy cast for a week, then a plaster cast for a month, and after that a splint for another month. Oh yeah, and she's got a titanium pin in her arm. For the time being she's doped up on Vicodin which makes everything seem not so bad.
I'm sorry that she missed the party - I really would have loved to have had her here. But she did give me a cool story and a great opening line "Jen has a broken arm and they had to do surgery!"
Today is my sister's birthday - I won't say her age but I will say she looks a lot younger than that number. Where she is right now is December 14th - if I wait to post this I'll miss the birthday, so bear with me on the advance posting.
In honor of my birthday this year she posted some photos she knew I would like. As my talents don't lie in photography, I won't be doing the same. However, I would like to share with her (and everyone else in the blogosphere) a cake recipe. This recipe (along with many others) was given to me by Tante Caroline as a wedding gift. The original recipe comes from Tante Ily (Caroline's aunt) - the best baker I have ever had the pleasure to know.
Happy Birthday Jenn - hope to share this cake with you in person soon!
(keep in mind that Caroline speaks in colorful terms - not very precise but pretty!)
Hazelnut Cake with Chocolate or Mocha Cream Frosting
(The Mocha cream frosting is the preferred, but I have not a foolproof recipe for you - I, too experiment each time. So, use the chocolate; it is the same as for Sacher. Or be courageous and try Julia Child's reicpe.....)
(for two large cake tins, buttered and floured)
1lb. Hazelnuts (almonds are good too), some oven roasted*, ground
1T. finely roasted coffee
2 1/2 c. veryfine sugar ("verifine" = is between granular and powdered)
12 eggs (separated)
apricot or red currant jelly, sugar, schnapps
I was going to post a photo for Wordless Wednesday and then I realized it's Thursday. Yep, it's one of those weeks.
So now I'm coming up with a new idea - if only for this week. Thankful Thursday.
This week I am thankful for my housekeeper:
I am thankful for Consuelo.
Tonight is the last night of Hanukkah - the festival of lights (instead of one day of presents we have eight crazy nights)
In our house we celebrate Hanukkah and Christmas - we basically will celebrate a holiday provided it doesn't involve fasting.
This year Hanukkah fell pretty early in December which is good I guess if you're eager to get one holiday out of the way. Challenging if you thought you had more shopping days.
Each night we light the candles on the menorah and say a prayer (for peace, our cat, our loved ones). Then we eat a candy from our Neuhaus chocolate advent calendar - what can I say, we like food.
As in past years, we'll be having a holiday party - we generally build the theme around Beethoven's birthday which is December 16th (think apfel streudel). I make lots of tasty food - the tastiest being latkes. Oil, potatoes, salt - what's not to love?!
Putting together the soundtrack for the party is a bit more challenging. Beethoven works but this year I thought I'd try some other holiday music. Plenty of jazz and rock Christmas music. Not so much interesting Hanukkah music. Basically it's Adam Sandler's Hanukkah song (which I love, but you can't play that 10 times during a party without it getting a little old). The Barenaked Ladies have a few good songs. And then I stumbled upon The LeeVees - these guys are awesome. So sit back, and enjoy "The Latke Clan".
This post brought to you by Soccer Mom in Denial - posting every Monday on a different musical memory (some are freakin' hilarious!).
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This post is dedicated to memory of Wilma, a dog who lived the dream.
One of my favorite songs on The Story's album, Grace in Gravity is "Dog Dreams". It is exactly that - what a dog is dreaming about. I once had this dog bed for Wilma that had little clouds with fire hydrants and dog bones all over it. Wilma dreamed a lot. She would also talk in her sleep. On many an occasion I would wake up in the middle of the night to hear Wilma "talking". It was not yelping or barking or snoring (though she did plenty of the latter). She was having a conversation - her voice would come out in spurts with inflections - so human.
Of course this song always makes think of her. Today would have been her 18th birthday. We miss you Wilma.
"Dog Dreams"
Me and Rex took the car,
ha, ha, stay home...stay.
We're gonna run over
all the neighborhood cats,
'cause they tease us from
the other side of the fence.
We're gonna go in the swamp
and you can't hose us off.
Dog Dreams, Dog Dreams
Please don't wake us up!
No bad dog, No stay,
No basement, No way,
No choke chain, No dry food,
No fetch game, No, No, No,
No bad dog, No stay,
No basement, No way,
No choke chain, No dry food,
No sit, lie down, roll over, SHAME.
Me and Rex took the car,
ha, ha, stay home...stay.
We're gonna go through
everyone's garbage,
have the dinners we deserve.
We're gonna find some great-smelling bitches,
and see if they meant what they said
from the end of the leash.
Dog Dreams, Dog Dreams
Please don't hose us off!
No bad dog, No stay,
No basement, No way,
No choke chain, No dry food,
No fetch game, No, No, No,
No bad dog, No stay,
No basement, No way,
No choke chain, No dry food,
No sit, lie down, roll over, SHAME.
This SOS came to mind about 20 minutes ago when I revealed to my husband that I had once hit a Rav4 (car). This story isn't so soapy, so much as an exercise in how to avoid stating the obvious.
Years ago I was driving up to Providence, Rhode Island to visit friends. It was part of a longer journey I'd been taking up the east coast sometime after my grandfather had died. That last sentence is mostly irrelevant - but perhaps I'm looking for some more excuses. Anyway, I'd been driving for a long time that day - something over 6 or 8 hours - with my dog in the backseat and we had just pulled into downtown Providence. Just pulled off the highway. I was meeting my friends somewhere downtown and while stopped at a light I looked down at the directions in my lap, looked up again at the light, looked at the car in front of me, and took my foot off the brake. And I hit the car in front of me. I think at the time my car was having some trouble (as evidenced by me hitting the other car) so that when I took my foot off the brake the car didn't just inch forward, it lurched.
I hit the Rav4 - a sort of mini-SUV - not too hard - but its back window just shattered! Weeks later there was a story on the news about a design defect on the back window of this car - so I hadn't even hit it that hard - but the window shattered and it made a big splashy noise. And I crunched the hood of my car (a lower to the ground old Volvo). Right downtown. In front of lots of people.
I phoned my friends and said I would be delayed - they offered to walk over (seriously, I was blocks from meeting them) and take my dog. I phoned the police and got out of the car to talk to the other drivers. They were very nice - they were on a date. A first date. Perhaps I had given them a bonding experience!
I remember very distinctly hearing from my insurance company that I should never admit guilt. It was kind of tough in this situation. I hit their car. I was behind them at a red light. Not much else to say.
All I could utter was things like "I'm sorry this happened. So you're on a date? Where were you going for dinner?". Ugh.
The cops came and took down all the info. They asked me what happened - "Uh, I was at the light. The car went forward. It hit the other car." I had to write a statement saying what happened. "I was at a light. I looked up. My car hit their car." As if the car and I were somehow not at all related. I could just see my English teacher rolling her eyes.
I'm sitting at an accident, which I caused, and all I can think about is how angry my high school English teacher, whom I hadn't spoken to in over 10 years, would be if she read my statement.
I'm such a geek.
When your bush pilot in Africa is reading...
Heart of Darkness?
"Not to worry" I told my husband, "he's only on page 23."
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Read this short classic or another one on:
After a year of being semi-employed and a few expensive trips to the vet (what vet trip isn't expensive?) you'd think our Christmas/Hanukkah list would be long. It's not. We want for nothing.
Yes, a flat panel TV would be nice. But we have a perfectly functioning 27" Sony TV that gets great reception. And we don't really watch it anyway - except Jon Stewart and I'm not so sure seeing him in hi-def is really worth $1000. Seeing him in person, now that's worth something!
New work clothes would be nice. As I'll be starting a new job and being in an office for the first time in 3 years, a little update might be in order. And my husband could use some new suits - he just gave away 6 old ones to our housekeeper's husband (who is now a pretty dapper electrician). But work clothes for Christmas almost seems like a cruel joke. Remember when you were a kid and would run downstairs on Christmas morning and delight in the hope that Santa brought you that XT Racer set? And it was .... corduroys.
Books would be nice. We can always use books. And there are books that we want. But what we really need right now is a bookshelf. Built-ins to be specific. I guess what we're asking for is a carpenter. Jesus, you free in the new year?
So to all you family and friends who might be reading this, we'll take gifts. We're not ones to say no! But don't stress about it. We're just happy we have a healthy cat, a warm home to read and watch TV in, and jobs to pay for tasty dinners and fun travel. Come visit, we'll find a spot on the couch for you.
Lucy is on the mend! She is eating and eating lots which just fills my heart with joy. I don't know if it's the liquid medicine I shoot into her mouth twice a day or the threat of such dosings that has her chowing down - and I don't care. I doubt it's the tiny appetite stimulant pill since I have yet to actually get that into her mouth. Lucy is quite the fighter - just to give you an idea how much fun it is to pill a cat I give you this story (alas I cannot claim it as my own):
How To Pill a Cat
How To Pill a Dog
Wrap it in bacon.
I just got a new job (yay!) - sort of. As with any number of jobs in DC, you first have to go through a security clearance. I've been through this before as has my husband so it's no big deal - I'll pass. Unfortunately, I can't even enter the building until the temporary clearance comes through - it will be several weeks. Ugh.
Here's the thing - they want info on my family - particularly my stepfather (the dashing guy above) and his children. My stepmother is of little interest, if any. What makes the man in the kilt so fascinating is that he's a foreign national. British citizen. Allegiance to the Queen and all.
They're probably checking this blog so be careful what you say. I tend to think if I send them a photo of the kilt they'll speed up my clearance. I bet Gunfighter would back me up on this.
This post brought to you by Soccer Mom in Denial - posting every Monday on a different musical memory (some are freakin' hilarious!).
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It's funny how a song can take you to a moment so clearly. I was never really one for music - I listened to the radio, sometimes bought tapes, but nothing like my friends who would camp out for concert tickets or blow their allowance at the record store (remember those places?). And yet, music still has the ability to bring me back to a time and place.
I received and made a fair number of mix tapes in my life. I remember two boyfriends who gave me mix tapes and if I could find them today I would play them (the tapes, not the boys) - on what, I don't know. They were given to me when I went away - first for the summer, and then later to college. I can't recall every song on them but when I hear something from either playlist I immediately remember those tapes - and where I was when I first heard them.
I don't recall any CD mixes copied onto tapes. I tend to think that's because there wasn't a boyfriend to make them for me and I didn't have a car. It's funny how a whole period of your life can be forgotten because you weren't driving around listening to your car stereo.
As I got older the technology has improved to where mixes are easy to make - no synching of different machines so you avoid that gap or maximize the number of songs you get on one cassette. Just burn some CDs while you're drinking coffee. Rearrange the music to suit your tastes.
For my sister's birthday a few years ago, we all chipped in and got her the latest iPod. We each added our own playlist - my husband did arias, her friend did jazz and blues, I did 80's music, my brother did Charlie Brown Christmas, and my other brother did Tom Jones. It was our extra gift to her - from each of us, to her.
My friends have also given me mixes - to encourage me to run, to commemorate a birthday, to provide background music to a brunch. And I love every CD. (Still not sure about that Hilary Duff song, Aparna).
It is with this feeling that I especially applaud SMID's birthday CD project. The technology may change and the CDs might get lost - but just maybe, hopefully, those kids will come upon that CD someday and say "I remember being 7!"
I was going to post this story just as a regular post and then realized it was a soap opera. Complete with screaming, a trip to the emergency room, and lots of sobbing.
Want to know what newlyweds do on a Saturday night? Oy.
Last night we spent our evening at the animal hospital. My sweet adorable cat Lucy had not been eating for days, and anyone who owns a pet knows, this is not good. Very not good. She continued to scream for food but would not eat it. We tried everything - pureeing food (that was soooooo unappetizing), switching flavors, hand feeding her kibbles. Nothing worked.
At about 5:30pm we arrived at the vet hospital. Lucy was weighed and checked out by a tech and then we waited for a doctor. My poor Lucy was so quiet which is unusual for a cat trapped in a bag at the vet. At about 6:30 we got into see the doctor and it's at the same time that my husband had to return the car - so he left and said he would come back later to pick us up or I would get a cab (yes, cabs take pets - I've driven in one with my dog Wilma which is a pretty funny sight).
Anyway, the vet takes Lucy to get her blood drawn and then comes back to talk to me. She says that it's one of a few things - her teeth are old and hurt, she has liver failure, or she has kidney failure (keep in mind my cat is 19 years old). The latter two things don't sit well with me - I've been there for two animals for those reasons and it ended sadly. I immediately start bawling. The poor vet is so upset that she has upset me - "no, no, it's me" I say "I just have a bad experience with this". I stop bawling enough for her to tell me that the bloodwork will be back in 2 hours and it might indicate Lucy has to stay overnight. So we agree that I will go get some dinner and she'll call me. I phone my husband. The bawling continues. He gets in the car to come meet me.
In the meantime, I go across the street to a Whole Foods and start wandering around looking for food. Crying. People stared. Finally managing to get some food I go to the dining area and wait for my husband. I calm down. I breathe. He arrives. I bawl.
The vet calls and announces it is good news! Lucy's bloodwork is fine. Not perfect, but for 19 years old we are happy. They can't clean her teeth due to her age but they do send me home with medicine and appetite stimulant to make her feel better and get her eating. Oh yeah, and a big fat bill.
So much for that TV we were getting for Christmas. Instead we get a cat with a million dollar smile. And we are ever so much happier for it.
The following post is from Vicky - as part of the Blog Exchange this month - "Silver and Gold"
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When I think of silver these are just a few of the items that come to mind.
Sterling first then, robin’s egg blue boxes tied up with white satin bows. Glitter encrusted tips of angel wings that float on top of Christmas trees. Shining twinkling ornaments that dangle precariously off tree branches. Silver is a perfect gift. Gleaming bright it shines beautifully as a candlestick or a charm on a delicate bracelet. It is the bright lining in an otherwise cloudy day. Born with a silver spoon in your mouth and you have the world at your feet or so they say.
Lastly I think of this-
Always look for the silver lining (didn’t you just hear a bell chime? I did)
When I was young and I heard people say, “Look for the silver lining”, I would cringe. Immediately I wanted to not look for the silver lining. I wanted to look at the less than sterling aspects of my day, my current situation or my life. I guess you could count me as a pessimist of sorts. The silver lining was something I only saw on the edge of my cereal bowl when I had to use skim milk. I wasn’t a fan of skim milk back then either.
Older now and married to a glass half full sort of guy I’ve come to view life in a new way. Having dealt with some serious issues and situations as my life progressed I realize that I have much to be thankful for. Looking at the silver lining isn’t such a bad thing after all. In fact, it is exactly what I want to teach my daughter as she grows. I want her to be an optimist. The world has enough pessimists and dooms dayers. I want her to see not just the dark edges of life but to come to appreciate those beautiful silver moments where one can see what that sterling lining can highlight. That the ability to see the good in a bad moment can be a lifesaver and sometimes it is all you have to cling to in that single desperate time.
I choose to see that gleaming silver as a light in the dark. That out of every dark passage there is indeed a reason for it and a blessing in it. It is this ability that my strength has grown from and shaped me into the strong woman that I am often (amazingly enough) described as today. I no longer snort with disgust when I hear the phrase, “Look for the silver lining”. Instead I smile and I do look. It is always right where you least expected it.
Hear ‘Silver Lining’, by the incredibly awesome group Rilo Kiley here.
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Vicky can be found at The Mummy Chronicles, doing what else but chronicling the daily life of a work at home mother to one tiny dictator, a crazy dog, and a slowly burgeoning freelance writing career. She just loves it when people pay her to write by the way. She can also be found posting numerous reviews at her site, Mummy’s Product Reviews .
Looking for Flower Child? She's over at Vicky's place this week going on about Gold.
In advance of World AIDS Day (I'll be doing Blog Exchange on December 1st) I wanted to write a post about where the epidemic stands.
There's loads of statistics - and some are looking better these days. Then I got bored. I deal with faceless numbers all the time (HIV numbers to be specific, but still really just numbers I'd be stealing from the UNAIDS website).
I have a dictionary that I got for my high school graduation. In the front of it is this inscription:
May this represent a new beginningHe died of AIDS about a year later. I often look at this dictionary and think, have things changed for the better? Yes, in many ways they have. And in many ways, we have a long way to go. Thanks, Dennis, for setting me out on a path. Hope to do you proud.
- Dennis, 5 June 1986
"Until I feared I would lose it, I never loved to read. One does not love breathing." - Scout Finch, To Kill A Mockingbird
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Cheney Has Irregular Heartbeat
By THE ASSOCIATED PRESS
Published: November 26, 2007
Filed at 9:11 p.m. ET
WASHINGTON (AP) -- Doctors administered an electrical shock to Vice President Dick Cheney's heart and restored it to a normal rhythm during a 2 1/2 hour hospital visit Monday. The procedure was described as a low-risk, standard practice. Cheney, 66, went home from George Washington University Hospital and was expected back at work on Tuesday.
Get your monster at Global Action for Children!
