Tag Archives: old

SURPRISE Dear Diary!

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See the sparkle on her head? That's not her halo, that's her awesome locally made crown.

See the sparkle on her head? That’s not her halo, that’s her awesome locally made crown.

Last night I went to a surprise party for one of my best friends. I met this guy years ago when our kids were in nursery school. I didn’t really know him too well, I knew his wife and I loved her. She was a RIOT! She made every field trip fun. After she passed away, my friend and his son moved in a few houses down from me. Since that time he has stepped seamlessly into the role of older brother to me and uncle to my children. He’s a real good guy. AND he has the only inground pool in the neighborhood. So, yeah, he rocks.

The party was excellent. I got to hang out with all of our friends from the neighborhood and his honey’s family. I really like his honey. She’s a good gal. Makes sense. For his gift, my kids and I thought of all sorts of things he will need as now he is OLD. We gave him a gift bag filled with ear plugs, ginko biloba, reading glasses, denture cleaner, prunes, and a bunch of other old people stuff…I labeled each thing with a tag explaining why he needed it. The funniest part was listening to him read the explanations.

After the party I came home, let the dog out to pee, patted myself on the back for not getting spaghetti sauce on my white shirt and worked on a present for my other best friend. I didn’t literally pat myself on the back because my neck/shoulder/nerve issue is ongoing. Yeah, thanks for asking. So, I wanted to get her a spa day package but  then I remembered I am poor. So, I thought a  singing telegram would be wicked fun! But I am a really bad singer and I don’t know anything about telegrams or Morse Code or knitting or football. Flowers? It’s February so there are none. How about…a sash, a crown and a box of matches???? Perf!!!! So, I cut up a bunch of paper, duct taped that shit together, added some stickers and BLAM! Birthday Girl sash!! But she would need a crown…a crown…ofcourse I know I have a crown or two somewhere in this house. I have 3 daughters. It’s sort of a law that girls need a crown/tiara in their possession at all times. My bff has all boys so, she needed a crown. Lucky for her, I know how to make one out of pipe cleaners. Even luckier, I had sparkly pipe cleaners!

So, this morning I woke up, showered, and the dog and I went to the bagel shop, Starbucks and then to the market where my bestie sells her incredible soy candles (wittywicks.com <— check it out). I walked in and taped her sash on her, stuck her crown on her head and we laughed and laughed. She is such a good sport. I love her so.

I left, came home, cleaned a bit, then went shopping. I went to the movies, I got a pedicure and then I had a lovely dinner with another friend. Now I am tired so the dog and I are snuggled on the couch in anticipation of the Stupid Bowl tomorrow!!! The best part of tomorrow will be the party that our friends throw every year. PLUS it’s Groundhog Day!!! Tomorrow is going to be EPIC! This has been a fantastic weekend despite my neck/shoulder/nerve pain (you really don’t care do you?).

There is one store I go to whenever I go to the mall. It sells purses and such. Every time I go in the saleslady greets me. I say hello back and proceed to check out the merchandise. When I stop to take a closer look at a pocketbook I might like, she swoops in and tries to sell it to me. I get so annoyed that I just leave. Just because I check a price doesn’t mean I need a tutorial on how this particular handbag was one price but is now another price. One time I picked up a bag just to see the other side, she came running over, talked it up and then took it to the register to check the price. I didn’t say one word. She just assumed because I picked it up that I wanted to buy it. I didn’t. So, I keep trying to shop there but I get so irritated with the help that I just leave. Today I wanted to tell the saleslady to step off and let me breathe. She is such a turnoff really. I wish someone would kidnap her and tie her up in the back room so I could just purse shop in peace.

I am an expert in making bad decisions.

Going into Pier One is like going into a bar I used to hang out at but stopped when I quit drinking.

 Lesson #1: when attending a surprise party and the guest of honor is arriving everyone should crouch awkwardly in the middle of the room.

Lesson #1: when attending a surprise party and the guest of honor is arriving everyone should crouch awkwardly in the middle of the room.

 

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Dear Diary…Day Three?

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Um yeah...like that.

Um yeah…like that.

Today the kids had a snow day. That is always fun. No really. I love snow days. I am not being sarcastic. I really do. They slept in. I miss the days when they were awake before me. The reversal of these roles tells me I am heading for old age as they are entering full on teenagerhood. Both of which suck. Two pieces of advice: Do NOT get a teenager and do NOT get old. You’re welcome.

My 10 year old got up first and offered to make pancakes. I said “Heck Yeah!” But she got distracted watching a Cake Boss episode so, pancakes didn’t happen until late morning. By that time, my blood sugar had dropped and I was in a “mood”. The 15 year old woke up and mutter under her breath about having to take the dog out for a pee and poop as it was literally about -30 with the windchill…apparently she thinks her sister is better equipped to handle arctic temperatures. But she did it.

She came in and said the dog wouldn’t poop because he couldn’t stand on all four legs because it was too cold and we needed to go get him boots ASAP. I said “Ooooohhhh…go take him out again” which she did and said he pooped. What she failed to tell me was that he POOPED IN THE DININGROOM.

We got ready to go and went.

Wound up at Red Robin Restaurant and had The Worst Service in the History of Eating Out.

Dropped the 15 year old to an appointment and the 10 year old and I went to Target where she found some new sneaks and a pair of pants. Met Grandma, gave her the kids so they all could go to Disney on Ice. I left for the movies.

I saw Wolf of Wall Street. It was good. Formulaic, very Scorses-esque but Jonah Hill was beyond brilliant and really should win an award.

Drove home listening to that flaming narcissist on AM Talk Radio…he sort of makes me laugh…like at him, not with him. And contemplating my life and how I got here. There was a very triggering scene in the movie that of course triggered me…I never did find flashbacks to be all that fun.

Anyway, I have been bitchy all day. The soda machine was off at the Red Robin and that really just set me off. I told the kids I wanted to key the waitress’ car…my 15 year old told me that would be a bad idea and a bit of an overreaction to the coke not being fizzy. I see her point.

I am VERY excited for tomorrow!!! I am down to one bra and that one bra is down to one hook so tomorrow I am going to buy a brand new over the shoulder boulder holder!!!! Haven’t done that since the 15 year old started wearing bras so YEA ME!!! Also, the only thing I didn’t get for birthday/christmas was a throw blanket…I wanted a soft pretty one to wrap up with on the couch. A sweet friend sent me a gift certificate so tomorrow I am going to get a beautiful blankie…so that I can take off my new bra and snuggle with my dog while I watch SNL….but that’s tomorrow.

Tonight I will sleep with the space heater on and my foot bag heated to lava hot.

My dog really can’t poop in this cold.

I just finished The Hunger Games series for the second time and I have zero recollection of the second book despite having seen the movie twice now.

Intentions and kakapoopie are the buzz words of the day.

Yeah...kiss my grits.

Yeah…kiss my grits.

 

Dear Diary… Day One

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One of my fav Christmas ornament that hung on my dad's tree. It's really cool...and small.

One of my fav Christmas ornament that hung on my dad’s tree. It’s really cool…and small.

When I was 19 I kept a diary for a whole year. That impresses me to no end. I am not very good on the follow through. I am a great starter and then I try to hand off the project onto someone else. But no one wanted to take over writing my diary for me. So,the year I was 19, I made a commitment to myself to write every single night even if it was just a list of what I did that day. And I DID it!!!! I remember some days having to go back and fill in the previous day but so what! I wrote every single day!!! Sort of…

I found this diary a few years ago and it was boring. I mean, most of it was “went here with soandso, then went there with whatshisface then came home”. The only thing I found really intriguing was that I ended every single entry with my desire to stop a bad habit that I had acquired. I guess I didn’t realize how much I hated doing what I was doing but there must have been some part of me that didn’t want to be doing it.

So,today I decided to write every day. And share it. Just daily stuff. Just for kicks…my kicks. You have to find your own kicks. Here goes :

Today, I woke up with my 10 year old snuggled in bed with me and our cat Eddie purring like a machine on top of my head. The sun was shining in my eyes and my head and neck hurt. I got up, took Tylenol and went back to bed because I know for a fact that my 10 year old is not going to want to snuggle forever and because it was cold in my house.

Got up, woke up the 15 year old. Told her to walk the dog who has been in his crate for 10 hours and put my bra on to go to the bagel shop. Went to the bagel shop, came home, showered. Had a kaniption fit because NPR was rehashing the Baby Veronica story and adoption is a subject close to my heart. Dropped the 15 year old off to her babysitting gig. Took the 10 year old to go see The Hunger Games- Catching Fire for the second time.

The movie was as good as it was the first time we saw it last month. The audience was PACKED. Sold out. The lady behind me kicked my seat over 43 times in the 2 hours we were there. That’s the one thing that can make me go postal instantly…anyone kicking the back of my seat. At the movies, in the car, at a restaurant…like bizzerko. About the 20th time I raised both of my arms in the air and sighed with loud exasperation. The 40th time I sort of scream/shouted “ARE YOU REALLY?” I then came up with a kick ass idea to have business cards printed up saying “I am not crazy. If I start acting crazy it is because YOU are doing something so insanely rude/annoying/inhumane that my only option is to act crazy. Just a friendly FYI if you can’t be in society then you should not be in society.” or something to that effect so that the idiots will know that I am not just a lunatic and my behavior is a direct result of them being an asshole.

Took the kid to Applebees because we had a gift certificate and had dinner. She got wings. They were awful. We  found out how to play the gambling game at the table but didn’t play it.

As we were leaving, my 19 year old came in with her bff. That was fun! Gave her a hug on our way out. Stopped at Taco Bell to get the kid a soft taco so she didn’t starve to death and came home.

She took the dog out for a pee and they came in and snuggled on the couch whilst I debated about actually starting this Write Every Day Even If It Is Nonsense thing.

So, here we are, in the year 2014. I might continue this, I might not. From what I have heard, watching Sesame Street as a child gave me a short attention span.

NYC has a new mayor.

I love my dog.

My favorite candy since I was 15 years old. Prior to that I was scared to try it

My favorite candy since I was 15 years old. Prior to that I was scared to try it

Spencer Learns Sign Language

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HUH??? WHAT???? Speak up why don'tcha????

Well, it finally happened. Spencer has gone deaf. I was convinced he was simply ignoring me but it turns out he can’t hear me screaming at him to get out of the garbage. I don’t suppose he went deaf on purpose to piss me off, although it does sound like something he would do. Like getting Coon Hound’s Disease and having accidents right where I would step in them. That’s the kind of relationship we have had over the years.

We went to the vet the other day for a check up and shots. I took Spence, Em and Eddie as Eddie really believes he is a dog. Spencer went first because he is the man of the house. Or because I know he was going to start retaliating for having a thermometer up his butt by farting and it was a very small exam room. Poor Spencer was acting like a scared little kid. He tried to crawl into my lap and hide behind my daughter’s legs. He even tried to get in the cat carrier with Eddie! He didn’t get angry at the vet but he was so scared! He buried his head in my lap when it was time for his shots.

He has all the signs and symptoms of old age. The arthritis, the milky eyes, the balding issues and now the deafness. If the government would get its act together I would apply for medicare for him and see about some hearing aids and a walker. I guess the war is more important than my elderly dog.

I do have to laugh at myself when he is getting into things he shouldn’t be and I am still yelling at the top of my lungs…he’s not forien…he’s deaf!!! I have been working with him on some sign language and he seems to really be catching on. When he could hear he would always ignore my “Look” or my “Tone” and continue on with whatever he was doing. Now, I watch him getting into the garbage and I see him looking around furtively to see if I am watching what he is doing. And when he sees me, he keeps going on the garbage while keeping his eye on me. As soon as I start advancing towards him he starts backing up with garbage in his mouth as he is kicking more garbage into the livingroom hoping beyond hope that I didn’t notice his fancy foot work. I lift my hand and make a swating gesture and he leaves the scene.

When it’s time to go out, I show him the leash and he tries to get up. I have to help him up 9 times out of 10. When it’s time to go inside I point to the door. When it’s time to eat I wave him towards the food bowls. Honestly, we are communicating better now than we ever did before.

It’s sad when I think of how agile he used to be. He was always jumping on people and chasing Cecelia and humping Emma or just humping the air…and now, he can’t hear. But his quality of life is still pretty good. He gets massages from the 8 year old and he gets his butt wiped by the 12 year old and he gets lifted in and out of the car by me and the 16 year old. He still pretends to play with Lucy the pit bull mutt who lives next door and every  once in a while he will look up and see Emma barking out the door and join her. He’s old but he’s still good lookin! He’s deaf but he is still communicating! He can’t hear me yelling my face off for him to GIT but he still attempts his naughty stunts.

He is resigned to the fact that he can no longer hear. He can no longer sing along with the fire sirens. He can no longer scare the pants off the old lady with the toy poodle with his fierce bark. But he has mastered the pathetic dog face and is, as I write, getting love from complete strangers walking down the sidewalk cause he escaped through the screen door……WHAT!!!!!! Gotta GO!!!!! SPENCER!!!!!!!!

Spencer goes to a BBQ

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his “Westminster” pose…doesn’t LOOK like he’d be licking random grease traps does he?

It’s summer. Spencer is 13 years old. He has cloudy eyes and selective hearing. He has ruined every single one of my antique oriental rugs and now he’s working on ruining the hardwoods. He needs a full time nurse to help him wipe when he poops. And he cannot walk on the hardwoods because they are actually laminate and he just belly flops and can’t get up. Yeah, that’s my dog…He’s fallen and he can’t get up. Real funny except in the middle of the night when he falls in his own pee AND poop and then can’t get up. Cold showers at 3am but not for the same reason as they used to be.

I have made many concessions for this mutt. I have rolled up the rugs. I have spent a small fortune on baby gates. I have invested in dog beds…that’s right, beds. Because he’s a picky sleeper. I have barricaded the stairs so he cannot go upstairs because he throws himself down the stairs and I know he will break a hip one of these days. Basically, he is now confined to one room. The fancy livingroom (which isn’t so fancy anymore minus the rugs and plus the pee and poop).

Last fall I had new storm doors installed. I had my heart set on the full length screen door but I knew that would be a major temptation for Spence. He has never seen a screen door that he didn’t plow through. Still, I talked myself into the full length, stupid expensive, screen door. In the winter, it was a full length glass door that Spencer left nose prints all over. I changed it out, put the screen in, bought yet another heavy duty baby gate to go in front of it and figured I was brilliant…or at least smarter than Spencer.

I was wrong. Oh so wrong. First of all, to get out of my front door, you had to open the door, then the baby gate, then the screen door,go through, while holding the screen door open but closing the baby gate and/or the door all the time yelling at Spencer to “GIT” because he is deaf and trying to escape. It’s a process. One which I am sure the neighbors enjoy watching. Anyway, I have to be vigilant as Spencer loves to roam and the street is busy and the neighbors don’t care for him pooping in their yard and going thru their garbage. I don’t blame them. I don’t like it either.

But Spencer has gotten old. So old that his fur never grew back from his last trip to the groomers last year. He is now a short haired dog with some long hairs here and there. Kinda like an old man with the nose/ear hair growth…He was really acting as if he wasn’t all that interested in escaping or even doing his routine where he does a dive roll through the screen door. The baby gate was pretty secure. I became complacent. I thought he was too old for his antics of yesteryear. Can I be any wronger?

Emma: I’m sorry. Me: for what? Emma: for having a dumb brother.

The other day we were out and about and I had left the front door open with the baby gate closed and the screen door locked. I got a text from my neighbor who lives 5 house down that Spencer had just come up for a visit and he walked him home and shut the door. WHAT???? How is that possible????? I got home and there is Emma laying in the backyard waiting patiently for someone to let her in. No one knew she had also escaped because she is smart and simply went to the backyard to wait for us to come home. She  looked like she knew she was in trouble but she is kind of the asskisser of the pack and was already acting all contrite and remorseful. And what did she do with her time alone outside in the big wide world? Nothing. She waited for us in the backyard. Spencer on the other hand just HAD to go visiting. Lucky for him he decided to visit the guys who like him, or at least tolerate him.

So, exasperated, I close the front door. I am beaten, I give up. Spencer wins. I can’t have nice things. No antique rugs, no full length screen doors.Wait a second… wait one gosh darn second… I am the human here… I am the grown up… I am THE MOM!!! I say open the front door and live life!! That damn dog is not allowed to rule this house!!! And for a few days, I think he understands that I am in charge and what I say goes and I say he is NOT allowed to go THROUGH the screen door ever again! Yeah, he gets it. And just incase he doesn’t I shut the front door every time we leave the house.

All is well…until today. I open the door, I give my warning (which even I am sick of hearing) about not leaving the house, to which Spencer just rolls his rheumy eyes, and I go upstairs. I get a text from my neighbor UP the street that she just sent Spencer home and he is at the front door. WHAT???? I know deja vu right? I run down stairs yelling at the kids that Spencer is outside and I open the baby gate and the screen door, (which now is really just a frame of a door with some screen kind of hanging from the corner), fully expecting to find the arrogant mutt waiting. He’s not there! I send the 8 year old down the street, the 12 year old up the street and I go to the back yard. He couldn’t have gotten far. It had literally been possibly 15 seconds from my neighbor’s text to me arriving outside. No Spencer. No Spencer anywhere. After 15 minutes I start to get worried. He is kind of blind and sometimes deaf and the roads are busy. I know all he wants is food or better yet garbage or nirvana would be something big and dead to roll in…half and hour, still no Spencer. The 12 year old thinks she has picked up his trail as she found a steaming pile of poop right in the middle of the sidewalk around the corner and down about a half a block. At this point, I am driving around, alerting all the responsible dog owners who are out walking their well behaved dogs on leashes. Imagining the worst, that he has been hit by a car and is being taken by ambulance to the ER and that he is uninsured, I drive slower and yell louder. I don’t know why I am yelling because he only hears what he wants to but that is what dog owners in the movies do when their dog is lost.

About 45 minutes and at least 10 trips around the neighborhood, I pull in to the driveway and see that Emma and my 8 year old are sitting on the sidewalk and my 12 year old is walking toward my neighbor who has Spencer by the collar. Relief. I wanted to hug him and kick him all at the same time (Spencer that is, not my neighbor). My neighbor had been driving around looking also and he decided to go home and check his yard again when he saw Spencer’s butt in his next door neighbor’s yard. As he rounded the corner he caught Spence in the grease pan of their grill licking away as if it were his job. My neighbor introduced Spencer to the new neighbor, making sure that the new neighbor understood that Spencer was harmless albeit annoying and then he hauled my dumb dog home.

Spencer was in the mood for some barbeque. It is summer after all. Turd.

P.S. for all of you who may think that I don’t feed Spencer enough please refer to http://ellie072.wordpress.com/2010/03/09/spencer-the-addict/ which will give you an idea of what Spencer is, which is not underfed!

I’m with the band

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WHOOOOO!!

I did alot of drugs in the 60’s. Which was really difficult as I wasn’t born until 1972. That’s what drugs will do to you kids….but along with the drugs came the more damaging music. The music I was into was not your mama’s music. Well, maybe it was.I had a friend whose mom would pop in and no matter what we were listening to, NIN, Shriekback, PiL, she would ask “oh is this the Replacements?” and bop along in the doorway.  It wasn’t MY mama’s music that’s for sure. My mother wasn’t all that into music. Her favorites were Barry Manilow and Paul Anka. So, obviously, I would like Sex Pistols, Ramones and Concrete Blonde.I had another friend whose mother was all about country western music (that’s what she called it). When we were listening to music at her house her mom would come in and try to mosh with us, the whole time asking us “Is this how you do it?!?” My friend’s parents were weird…but funny.My dad listened to nothing but classical. That is, excluding his Village People stash of albums I found when I was 9…that’s a whole ‘nother blog.

 Music was a huge part of my life as a teenager. Knowing people in bands was the ultimate. My best friend lived next door to a local band, another best friend had a family member in a local band, another best friend was in one of the most talented local bands. I think at one point I knew more people in bands than not in bands. And they were all talented musicians. Watching bands practice, going to shows, hanging out after shows is what I did with my friends. I wish I could remember all the bands I did see. It was like having street cred when you could name off bands you’d seen before they sold out. Bootleg tapes, shows in the middle of the day, bands in basements. I suppose it was the 80’s. I suppose this was everyone’s experience.

Yet I cringe to think that MY kids would ever, EVER do or see the things I did and saw. I purposely live in a village that does NOT connect to public transportation so that where ever my kids want to go, they have to be driven. I can’t tell you how many times I “went to a friend’s house” only to take the bus to the city and see GWAR or Cro-Mags or some equally sick, loud, drunk band. I know my hearing has suffered from those loud shows. I’m sure the liver damage has reversed itself by now. My memory has gone down hill and I am aged,but I wouldn’t trade that adolescence for the world. I’m lucky I got out alive but while I was in, it was a blast!!

After a short stint as a crazy punk (once a punk always a punk), I moved on to the dirty hippy crowd. The music was way more tame, the people were way more mellow and slower to be funny. Everyone of them was always on some substance. There were no straight edge hippies. Off we’d roam, into the woods, for all night bon fires, to giant concert venus (rather than “shows”) getting there in somebody’s van or giant, 70’s, boat of a car. We would never turn down someone who needed a ride even when it meant they were riding in the trunk.

Yeah, I saw The Grateful Dead in Buffalo with Steve Miller Band opening. Yeah, it was a trip. We all camped out there for a couple of days, I think. Maybe it was a week, maybe it was overnight, whatever it was definitely an experience. All of you who have been to a Dead Show know exactly what I mean.  I vaguely remember some of the characters we met. Everything that happened there, from gathering water at the community well, to “finding” one of our friends who came with us but we hadn’t seen in a few hours, was an OH MY GOD moment.All of it was such an out of this world experience. Glad I had it, but it not something that could ever be duplicated….

I came back to reality with a few bumps and bruises and went to college at the birth of the club kid scene. Living in Philly and attending UofArts was a perfect combination for the club scene. I hated grunge, so off to the clubs we would go…dressed in beautifully hideous costumes, eyes tie dyed, hair florescent, shoes platformed. The music was still loud, the place was still packed, but I laughed more than I had in ages.

Being in a pit with punks, someone always got hurt. Being at a show with hippies, someone always overdosed. Being in a club with The Kids, someone always never slept. Occasionally, I would get tired and need to sleep so I would head down to South St. to a sweet little hippie shop to visit. Sometimes I would feel a bit irritated with the colors and obviousness of the clubs and take off for the weekend with my skinhead friend to see some local shows in NYC. It was a good life, a very full life without restrictions cause I was young and having fun!

When I got pregnant with baby#1, I gave up all of it. I gave up even listening to music. I went to shows very, very rarely when I was pregnant and when she was a baby. Little by little, I became a radio listener. It was embarrassing to admit to my friends. Yes, I knew the words to songs that were in the Top 40. Hey, don’t judge! I did what I had to at the time.

After I became a single mother, I began to introduce my kids to MY music. I played them Soul Asylum, Violent Femmes, Descendents, Bad Religion. They LOVED it. Suicidal Tendencies and D.I., T.S.O.L and Fishbone. I bought a Sirius Satellite Radio for the car and that was so much fun because  the monitor would show who the band was, the year and the song. So, the kids and I would quiz each other. This is how I began their musical education. Bob Marley, Journey, Led Zeppelin, Def Leppard, Blondie, Elvis, Velvet Underground. I made sure they knew who these musicians were, from what time period, and which ones I liked and who I didn’t and why. We spend ALOT of time in the car.

My kids have now moved on to liking their own music. And it really isn’t that bad. They listen to top 40 stuff, a little bit of rap/hip hop, most of it is tolerable. Every once in a while I will pop into my kid’s room and no matter what she is listening to I ask “Oh is this Eminem?” which always gets me the eye roll. My oldest went thru a stage where all she would listen to was the “new” hair bands like Good Charlotte and Linkin Park. That was annoying. But she got over it and now mainly listens to show tunes. Her younger sister has become all emo with the vampires and the black and maudlin so she is listening to the New Moon CD over and over and over (thanks Aunt Aubry). My youngest one doesn’t have an opinion yet, although when she was 3 she knew all the words to My Humps….which she sang to her nursery school class on  share your special talent day….with a special talent day dance…she did not run that one by me first. I would have suggested Blister in the Sun… 

Music is a huge part of our lives. I know when I hear a song it can bring me right back to what was going on when I first heard it.I also have some sort of OCD with music. I can’t listen to a song without choreography running through my head. Even songs I hate have a dance in my mind. Music makes me feel. And sometimes I hate to feel. So, now I listen to NPR talk radio. Then I get to think about how I feel. Occasionally, I will flip thru the radio stations, or pop in an old cd to sing along with but it never lasts long. I have trigger thumb when it comes to music in the car. The station tuner is on my steering wheel and when the kids are in the car they do the “Oh Oh OH I LOOOVE this song!!!Don’t turn it” as I turn it. I have no attention span when it comes to music unless I really like the song. And I have very strong opinions about everything we listen to.

I refuse to apologize anymore for liking Usher or Jason Mraz or Neil Diamond (saw him three times in concert in the round). Whatever. But, I am embarrassed to admit that yesterday, when the kids and I were eating dinner at a local restaurant, we were sitting next to an old hair band, I just didn’t know which old hair band they were. I tried to bribe the kids into going and asking them for an autograph. Not gonna happen. I thought seriously about going over and asking them who they were (cause they were obviously somebody what with the hair and the pretty, sleazy chicks hanging on them) but then I thought that might be painful to have someone come over and say “You guys look like you were famous at some point, in the 80’s, but exactly who are you?” So, I chickened out.

I was sitting next to Slaughter!! Oh, that made me laugh. Now, Slaughter was never on my radar as a band I liked, but I had many friends who loved hair bands back in the day. They looked exactly the same. A few more tattoos, alot more grey hair, blue tooths in ear, kinda fat, eating at a family restaurant, at 5 o’clock…with the families and the old people. Kinda sad. We all get older, even those who are in a band. A video on MTV does nothing to stave off old age. Sex, drugs and rock and roll baby…ok, maybe just rock and roll and  the early bird special. Guess I’ll leave it all up to the Youth of Today…..