A Message From your Favorite 85 Year Old

I am beginning to feel like an old lady. I get so irritated with the way we do things these days and long for "the way we used to do things". Today, Kate came home from Vacation Bible School singing:

Father Abraham
Had many kids;
And many kids had Father Abraham.

What?!

Exactly when did Father Abraham stop having sons? Are we really that sensitive that we think we have to change "sons" to "kids"?!! Would Kate have come home crying because she felt left out since Father Abraham didn't have any daughters? Of course she wouldn't have. She wouldn't have cared. And let's not forget that even in the Bible, Abraham only has sons. Period. That is part of history. Are we going to re-write the Bible and give him a daughter named Makayla? (I won't even mention how much I long for the days of traditional baby names - Makayla has GOT to go!) So why is it necessary to change the lyrics of a children's song?

I think we take all of this political correctness - this, let's not leave anyone out-business to the extreme. It's ridiculous. Shouldn't we be volunteering in schools or recycling or trying to cure cancer instead of worrying about semantics?

And you know that in school now, children no longer sit Indian-style. They now sit "criss-cross applesauce".

Really?

Seriously, really?!

This one I guess I understand better than sons/kids because of negative stereotyping, and perhaps if I were of Native American heritage I would better understand why it is offensive. But, why is it an insult to have a name for the way a person sits? It's not like it's called I-Think-I'm-Better-Than-Indians-style...

And, while we're talking things that annoy me, I should probably mention how much I loathe the fact that we have kindergarten graduation ceremonies. Yes, I will attend them when my children have them because I'm sure it will be a cute ceremony (plus, there is a lot of shame in being the only parent not in attendance). But c'mon - what are these kids doing to warrant a graduation? Way to take a nap, children! Good singing, class! Nice pipe-cleaner dexterity, boys and girls! REALLY!

And I am also not a fan of giving everyone a trophy - including the teams that lose. There is a lot of value in learning to lose. Kids have to learn that things do not and will not always go their way. We have to prepare them for that. They should learn to want to be winners, but they should know how to handle themselves if they are not the ones who come out on top. You know that guy at work that you don't like who feels a sense of entitlement, who is a jerk to everyone and contributes nothing of value yet takes credit for other people's work? He got a trophy when he didn't earn one. He doesn't know how to lose and therefore does not know how to function on a team. I don't want to work with him. And I certainly do not want my kids to be like him.

So,

* Abraham now has "kids".

* We sit in a way that is called but has absolutely nothing to do with applesauce.

* Five year olds dress in caps and gowns to signify their making it through a grade whose most important feat is considered learning to not ingest paste.

* And, losing teams are awarded trophies.


Here are some things that I believe we should be concentrating on instead of the above mentioned items:



1. Making people stop littering and expecting others to clean up their messes.

2. Being more considerate of others by not talking on your cell phone so loudly in public places that everyone has to listen to your conversation.

3. Making people stop driving like complete asses (texting while driving, not letting poeple over, not using turn signals, etc.)

4. Holding poeple accountable for their own actions and not rewarding them for blaming other people for their mistakes/misfortunes.

5. Teaching our children to be kind to people, to be honest, and to be patient. Also, teaching them that things of value have to be earned in this world.

Those are all easily accomplished and would actually do far more for the injustices in society than any of the things in the start of this post. They are certainly more important than the time, energy and cost associated with all of them.

Am I the only reasonable person out there? Or am I truly just out of touch and unable to accept the way the current world works? I know, I know, I sound like everyone's great-grandmother with all of this ranting. Wait, maybe I should say great-grandperson. I need to be less offensive to my male readers.

My apologies.

Lost Without LOST

I am grieving. I learned Sunday night that some very good friends of mine died recently. They died either on an island, in a plane crash or in some other way that was not completely explained to me. I’ve been very sad ever since because I will miss them. I have cried for them (went to work with swollen eyelids today). I have questioned their purpose in life. I have speculated as to what really happened to them even though I am clearly not to know or understand. I am happy for them because I believe that they are now at peace. And they are with the ones they love. But my friends Jack, Kate, Sawyer, Sayid, Hurley, Charlie, heck… even Rose and Bernard… I will miss all of them. We’ve been through a lot together.

I get attached to TV shows and characters and I am sad when we must part ways. If it is my decision to leave, I can handle it. Like my friends on Wisteria Lane. I decided after spending a year with them that I had too many other friends and I had to cut some people out of my life. So, Susan, Gabby, Linette and Edie had to go. I was okay with that. I most likely won’t even catch up with them when it’s time for them to say goodbye to the rest of their friends. We’ve drifted apart – and I’m okay with that. It happens.

It happened with me and Jack Bauer. Gosh, I loved him. He was so heroic! For seven years I watched him save the world and cheat death. But I also saw him lose a lot. He lost his wife, his girlfriend, another girlfriend and several friends at the CTU. His job was too dangerous. So many things kept happening that it finally just got to be too much for me. Do I wish him well? Of course I do. He’s Jack Bauer! But I had to end our friendship. He stuck around for another year, but I just couldn’t do it anymore.

I can remember back to the first time I realized that TV friends I had come to know and care about would be leaving my life. I knew these wacky roommates – Jack, Janet and Teri. Their meddlesome landlord was always causing problems for them and they were always getting their wires crossed in some zany misunderstanding – usually revolving around someone’s mistaken assumption that two people were having sex. Anyway, one day Jack fell in love and moved in with a girl named Vicky. Janet got married and moved away. Teri became a nurse in Hawaii. The threesome would be no more. Sure, they might keep in touch, but the dynamic they shared would never exist among them again. I had an opportunity to remain friends with Jack and Vicky, but it just wasn’t the same. They only stuck around for a year.

Then there was the Keaton family. Oh, how I cried when their oldest son, Alex, who I used to pretend to make out with, would be moving to New York for a job on Wall Street. Had I meant nothing to him all of those years I followed his life? He just left! I was crushed! Once he moved away, I began hanging out with this group of misfits who spent all of their time in a Boston bar. The hung out for what seemed like weeks at a time at this bar. I’m not sure any of them actually worked. Well, one guy was a mailman. He always wore his uniform.

At some point, I became friends with a group of kids from Bayside High. I am embarrassed to admit how much time I spent with those guys. I even hung out with them a little when they went to college. I was older than they were so really I should not have spent the kind of time with that that I did. We eventually went our separate ways. I kept up with one girl who moved to Beverly Hills and hung out with another group of students I knew – although, I think she got a boob job before she moved. I followed one guy when he became a detective in the NYPD. One girl ended up as a stripper in Vegas – she was pretty gross. I don’t think she had a boob job. I had to opportunity to see her dancing and shaking and I’m pretty sure hers were real.

Eventually I lost touch with those kids. I moved on to this group of friends in New York. They were MUCH cooler than the Bayside High students. These guys hung out in a coffee shop most of the time and had really cool hair. They also slept with each other a lot and in different pairings. I was getting kind of tired of them so when we parted ways I wasn’t too upset when they left.

Now, I was very upset to lose my other New York friends although they were really horrible, horrible people. Our friendship ended when they were sentenced to jail for one year for breaking a Good Samaritan law. For many years, Jerry, Elaine, Kramer and George were just awful to their respective boyfriends and girlfriends and others with whom they came into contact. But they were sarcastic and funny and I knew I would miss them.

Another group of people I hated to see go were the Soprano family in New Jersey. I’m not sure why I liked that family. They were believed to be in the mob. The more time I spent with them, I had a bad feeling that someone would die that I didn’t want to see die. I don’t think that happened. Actually, I have no idea what happened to them. One minute they were there and the next they weren’t. It was like, everything just faded to black and they would never be heard from again. Weird.

But the six years that I knew the Kwons, Mr. Locke, Desmond and the gang were very good years. They always kept me guessing. They made me angry. They made me think (usually I hate that). They made me think about spirituality and about good and evil – real heavy stuff. Things I don’t normally think about on Tuesday evenings. Things that, in their absence, I am unlikely to ponder going forward.

And these people didn’t simply leave me. They died. I had invested so much into them. I had gotten to know them. To care about them. And they are gone now. I know, I know. I’ll make new friends. Probably sometime in the fall, I’ll be introduced to a whole new crop of friends. But it won’t be the same. It won’t be those people in that group. I don’t even know yet if I’ll want to make room in my life for any new friends. It gets pretty time consuming and I have two kids and husband who need my attention.

Plus, I’ve already got plenty of other friends. There’s the group I hang out with from Dunder Mifflin. They are pretty funny, but I work in HR and the things they do make me very uncomfortable. It’s just not appropriate for the workplace. Then there’s Ted, Barney and their friends who frequently get together for drinks over at McLaren’s. I like them, but I’m getting pretty annoyed with them. Ted is making me guess who the mother of his kids will be. I want answers now – stop teasing me! I guess my best friend right now would have to be Liz Lemon. She reminds me of a much cooler version of myself. And what a life – she works at 30 Rockefeller Center in New York for a guy who looks like Alec Baldwin.

So I guess I do have people I can still spend time with. I will just have to move on and be thankful for the time we spent together. I’ll have to enjoy my summer outside with all of my real, actual friends. If you are one of them, I will have to lean on you in this time of grief.

Reach Out And Touch Someone

I mentioned in my last post that there was a reason I had chosen a ridiculous phone number when I bought my first legitimate (non-bag) cell phone. The number I chose at that time was XXX-FART or XXX-BUTT or something equally mature. One of my all-time favorite stories is the reason for my choosing this phone number. Most of my all-time favorite stories are stories about hilarious things that have happened to other people. But this is one that happened to me that I think is so great on so many levels. It's embarrassing. It's relatable (I hope - or else I'm just a big ol' loser). It's funny. It's one that needs to be shared. So now, here is that story.

Growing up, my best friends were two girls - sisters - who lived at the end of my street. (I will not use their names in order to protect their identities and reputations.) We did all kinds of foolish things together. We would re-create and act out episodes of Three's Company - three girls; we had to rotate who would be Jack Tripper. We would pretend we were waitresses (way to set lofty goals for yourselves, gals) who would receive $1000 tips from handsome men (Good God). We were huge Dukes of Hazzard fans so naturally we would pretend that we were John Schneider's nephews. (You read that correctly - we were idiots). We had a singing group (Heaven help anyone who had to be exposed to this) named the "Cool Fools" (well, we got the "fools" part right anyway...). And... we made prank phone calls.

A lot.

We would do the hilarious Call-The-Butterworth's-House-And-Ask-If-Their-Syrup-Was-Truly-The-Richest-And-Butteriest routine. We would do the always clever May-I-Speak-To-John?-You-Don't-Have-A-John?-Well-Where-Do-You-Go-To-The-Bathroom? gag. We would do the old When-Someone-Answers-The-Phone-At-Their-Residence-Start-Trying-To-Order-A-Pizza bit. Hilarity!

But the most fun we had was calling people's homes whose phone numbers spelled something dirty. Anyone whose last four digits spelled FART (3278) or BUTT (2888) or ANUS (2687) or SH*T (7448) or DAMN (3266) or ...well... go see what 3825 spells... got multiple calls from us. The unsuspecting resident would answer the phone and one of us would say:

Do you realize your number is 822-BUTT?

We would wait for them to say something in return - although it was clearly never as clever as what we were saying.

Then we would hang up.

And die laughing.

I must point out that this was before the Wii and XBox and things like that. It was before cell phones (certainly before caller ID) and iPods. It was pretty much before any type of the mind-numbing entertainment that we have today existed. As a result, we had to come up with our own ways to keep ourselves entertained. And, unfortunately for the people with those phone numbers, a lot of times this meant bothering others. But no matter. That's what kids did before caller ID made it virtually impossible to do it anonymously.

We did this so often that for years, when I would dial a number, I would try to see what it spelled as a means for me to remember it. If someone had a zero or a one in their number it was a total bummer because those numbers just mess the whole thing up. Unless you have a one at the beginning or end of it. Then, a person's number could be 822-1ASS or 822-FAT1. But I digress...

I can't say for sure how long my friends and I made these prank calls. But I'm going to guess it was for years and years and years. It simply did not get old. The person on the other end of the phone always had a different reaction so it was a new game each time we played.

Some people would laugh.

Some people would say they already knew it.

Some would hang up immediately.

Some would threaten to put a trace on the phone so we could be identified. (yeah, right - as if that kind of technology existed in the 80s.)

Some would tell us what naughty little children we were.

Some even told us they'd hunt us down and kill us down if we ever bothered them again.

At some point - though probably not until much later than everyone else our age - we matured and started finding other forms of entertainment. Once we could drive, we were no longer forced to sit at some one's house and try to annoy people. We could go somewhere else to do that!

So, we grew up and life went on.

Years later, I was in college at Auburn. My prank calling buddy had actually introduced me to my roommate. She was someone from our hometown who went to another school. I knew her only through my friend and had only met her a couple of times before we moved in together.

She and I became fast friends. She is still one of my best friends today. She was and probably still is the kind of person who seemed at first very sweet and nice, but once you got to know her had a pretty bawdy sense of humor. We got along famously. Then came the Christmas holidays when everyone would be going home for a couple of weeks. She and I exchanged numbers so we could try and get together over the break.

A couple of days into the break, I called my friend and roommate. As I dialed, I looked closely at the digits and to my delight, they were very familiar.

You guessed it - her home number was 823-FART!

It was like the mother ship had landed for me. What a coincidence that all the time I spent doing this in the past, my future best friend was out there all along being the proud owner of this phone number!! And what was so funny about it all was that for as much as I loved potty humor, she was completely annoyed by it. She would likely see no joy in this scenario and just roll her eyes at me when I told her the great news.

Her mother answered after a couple of rings and she and I exchanged pleasantries. She then called Wendy to come to the phone. When Wendy picked up, the first thing I said was,

Do you realize your number is 823-FART?

She let out kind of an exasperated giggle which I expected. Then she said something that I didn't. She said,

"Actually yes. Someone called and told my dad that several years ago."

Now the stars were aligning for me. It was the perfect storm of my past self uniting with my future/current self. This little habit of prank calling people had finally come full circle for me. It was something out of a coming of age movie (although one that would never be made due to the subject matter) where in an instant my entire life to that point (18 years) flashed before my eyes.

WENDY!!!, I said.

THAT WAS ME!!!!

Of course, she was nowhere near as impressed as I was over the whole thing. She was probably rethinking the whole roommate thing at that point. I'm sure she gave me some kind of a courtesy laugh and then we pretty much just moved on.

Over the years I have delighted in telling that story. I mean truly - what a coincidence. It's held the same weight for me that one of Oprah's A-ha! moments would have for a normal person. It just never gets old. Now if only I could befriend someone who lives at 822-3825 - I could die happy and fulfilled.

I Caved

I have done something I'm not proud of. It was something I said I would never do and yet... here we are. It is something I got mad at my husband for doing a few years ago. It is something I formed at pact with one of my coworkers about that we would be the last hold-outs.

I got a blackberry.

Now, before you go all "but you hate cellphones already and now this?!" on me, let me explain.

I work three days a week. My job is one that is very difficult to do in only three days. I need to stay connected with work in case a serious situation - or just one that needs my attention - arises. I've been carting my laptop around everywhere - convenient enough I always said. But geez, to drag it out of my car and out of it's bag and THEN to have to connect with the network and enter a bazillion passwords, etc. - I found myself not using it very often. So, I would check work emails from my home computer using the nefarious "Webmail". The problem was, Webmail didn't like my computer and for whatever reason, I could only open emails. I could not respond. So then I would have to open Webmail to check in and then respond via my personal email address.

That was no good because if person responded to that, I could only read it at home. I needed up having half of a conversation at work and half at home. Not good if you are trying to remember what you said you'd do about something.

Several months ago, I saw an ad for the Droid. As soon as I saw it, I knew Mike would come up with some reason why his blackberry was no longer any good thus necessitating the purchase of a Droid. At that point, I knew that when we would have that conversation (which we did about 14 minutes after I saw that first ad) I would ask for his blackberry cast-off.

Those of you who know me well know that I have long resented cellphones. I can remember in high school getting one of those 80 lb, enormous bag phones that had that tightly curled cord that you had to use all of the strength you could muster to stretch to your ear as you drove. I had that phone for ages and only in case of an emergency. I went to Auburn (War Damn Eagle) which was two hours away from home so I needed it in case disaster struck on my way to and from school. I kept that phone until many years later when I was in my first job post-grad school (Go Vols!).

I was living in Murfreesboro (Go Blue Raiders!) at the time and I traded my Acura hatchback for the much safer and more sensible Volvo S40. I was inside signing all of the paperwork - as you can imagine I got a superb deal on this vehicle. I was single and in there by myself handling the negotiations. Actually, negotiations probably isn't the right word. They told me what the price was and I paid that price. A practice I've learned since being with Mike is not at all how you should ever purchase a car, but I digress... - and one of the salesmen who was transferring my belongings from the old car to the new one came in giggling. This is not a direct quote because it has been so long since all of this happened, but he said something to the extent of,

"Hey, boss! Bet you haven't seen one of these since the 80's!!" at which point he triumphantly lifts up my bag phone for all to see.

People, including the aforementioned "boss" began snickering at me and I felt like I had just walked out of Amish country - no make-up, hair secured in a matronly bun. Surely no cultured woman would really still own a dinosaur like this. But then again, a cultured woman would have been smart enough to bring a man with her when she was buying a new car. (While I was there, I kept hearing a tearing sound which, years later, I finally discovered was the new one I was being ripped while I was at Darrell Waltrip Volvo.)

All of this to say, I was shamed into buying a real, actual cellphone. Of course at the time, I bought the cheapest one I could find. Again, I'm not buying into society's constant need to be connected to anything and everything. I remember at the time, a friend (who shall remain nameless for the purpose of this story to protect her identity) and I went together to buy them. We both asked for an easy to remember phone number (I think I chose XXX-FART for mine**.) and had to have explicit instructions to understand how this new piece of technology worked. Of course, it was the late 90's so this really wasn't new technology. It was simply new to those of us who had not yet embraced the future of communications.

Then, of course, time went on and I met Mike. He was Mr. Cellphone - couldn't do his job without one. He let me have his flip phone and he upgraded on one for himself, and so began our relationship of me getting his used phones and him getting the latest and greatest model.

The came the blackberry.

The reason I hate cellphones is because while I was living in Murfreesboro and working at MTSU, I would see students leave their classes and immediately call their friends, parents, whomever as though there was something critically important that just could not wait until later in the day after classes. My thought was, "how freakin' important do these people think they are?"

I just must be able to be reached at all times - I'm that busy and I'm that important.

I still feel this way, by the way. The fact that I am now a sell-out does not change this sentiment. But the blackberry elevated that to a whole new level. You could no longer have a conversation with someone because they were scrolling through their email at the dinner table. You no longer had anyone's attention in meetings, because they were click-click-clicking on their keypads responding to emails. It is ANNOYING! And everyone does it. I just don't want to be that distracted all the time that I miss out on things I need to be paying attention to.

AND - I don't want to start speaking in "texts" all the time. Texting is not really a word, by the way. "Text" is not a verb. It is a noun. OMG, it's a noun!! LOL!!! What self-respecting adult types this way? I can tell you a lot of them do. Text abbreviations look like some silly language I would have used with my buddies in middle school. I mean really, WTF?!!

My reasons for getting the blackberry were honestly very pure. I wanted to have the convenience of checking work emails on my days off. That's it. I don't need to be able to check the Internet from my phone. I don't need to download different songs so that my ringtone is cooler (or really, with my musical taste, lamer) than yours. I don't need all of those bells and whistles. All I need to do is check work emails and place/receive calls. Isn't that really the function of a phone? To call someone? Who decided we should be able to shoot videos with them?!

And don't get me started on the new word that I hate: "apps". This is a loathsome word to me. A grown person should not be talking about all of the cool "apps" they have on their phone. I remember when this word was used to refer to an appetizer when I was a hostess at a restaurant. I hated it then and I hate it now. If you have neat "apps", please keep it to yourself.

I'm sure that now that I have the blackberry, I'll wonder what I ever did before it. I'll probably never go back to a regular cellphone. I'm too good for it now I suppose. I bowed to the pressure to have one. I caved and I admit it. But I will not be zombie in meetings, at dinner, and in day to day conversations with people. I will give everyone my undivided attention whether I'm getting an email on my phone or not. I will...wait...
Wait. Hang on...
I'm getting an email...
Let me check it...
How does this stupid thing...
Oh, I press this...
scroll...
scroll...
scroll...
scroll...
How funny!...
LOL!!!...

Wait, what was I saying?

** For more information on how I arrived at this number, please see the next post.

WHY?

There are a few things that have been bothering me lately. Nagging questions I have that I would really be happy to find an answer to. Here they are. If anyone has any insight, I would be ever so grateful.


1. WHY are midriff-revealing shirts coming back in style? Other than maybe some 13 year old girls and fat rednecks in KMart, no one is happy displaying their belly!

2. WHY is it that it takes 21 days to intentionally form a habit (exercising) yet it takes no time at all to adopt a bad one (napping when you should be exercising)?

3. WHY does it take men twenty minutes or more to accomplish in the bathroom what I can take care of in less than three?

4. This is a two-part question - WHY is Kate Gosselin famous? *and* WHY hasn't she been voted off of Dancing With The Stars? I do not know a single person who a) likes this woman or b) wants to know anything about her life.

5. WHY did God give me girls when it is clear I cannot style hair? He has seen my hair for years. Why would He do this? I guess He has a sense of humor after all.

6. Ooooh wait! I thought of another Kate Gosselin question - WHAT is up with her hair?! (I guess to fit the WHY theme of this post I should ask, WHY does she style it like that?)

7. WHY do I have a freckle right next to my eye that looks like a permanent eye booger? Perhaps it's the whole God having a sense of humor thing, but really! I had to stop wearing brown eye liner because I was fearful that people who didn't know me or see me often would think it really was an eye booger. Now I wear a bluish-grey color to eliminate any confusion.

8. On this same subject, HOW do you spell "booger"? Is it booger or bugar? WHY are there two options for this word?

9. Wait, wait, wait! Another KG question - WHY was she on the cover of People magazine the week after the Oscars when they could have focused on the winners and losers?

10. WHY is it that certain songs stand the test of time even when they are clearly horrendous? I'm thinking of "Black Velvet" by Alannah Myles. This damned song was released in 1989 and I guess it had some success - spent two weeks at number one on the Billboard Hot 100. But I can be listening to the radio any time, any day and this annoying song will come on. It could be a classic rock station. It could be an easy listening station. It could be a Best-Of-The-70's-80's-90's-and-Today station. It's everywhere! And I detest it. The song is from 1989. It's 2010, people. Let's let it go.

11. Speaking of standing the test of time, WHY are certain expressions still around? Kate came home from school the other day saying sarcastically to her sister, "Nanny Nanny Boo Boo!" Was this expression really that insulting back in the day? I mean, if you really want to cut someone off at the knees, give 'em a Nanny Nanny Boo Boo. That'll show 'em. I guess that way back when, someone said it and someone else thought it was funny. Who knows how many years later, it is still being said in playgrounds all across the country.

12. WHY do people feel they need a nose-ring? There are just certain parts of my body that I guess I just don't feel like need bedazzling. My nose is one such body part. I see someone with a nose ring and I wonder about what is caked all over that thing on the inside. (More booger/bugar talk. What is wrong with me today?)

13. WHY can't people simply let you over when you are trying to get into another lane of traffic? The worst thing you could possibly do if you are trying to change lanes is to turn on your blinker. That little flashing light turns all other drivers into selfish, cutthroat jerks. It's like people think if they allow you to take the position ahead of them that you'll let that go to your head. Or that gasp! you might beat them to your destination.

You want to get over? You can suck it! No one is going to make a fool out of me by beating me to that next mile marker!

14. WHY does my dog always choose the time when I am just about to fall asleep at night to jump up on the bed and begin loudly licking his privates?

15. WHY is it that wherever I am standing to take a picture of my children, I always end up at their backs when I snap the photo? They'll be saying CHEEEESE! and as soon as my finger goes to press the button - BAM! They turn around and face the other direction. So, I'll reposition myself and go over to the other side. Same thing. My children's backs have been photographed in some really nice settings. The only time they cooperate and face me for a picture is when their hair looks like they just rolled out of bed or they have boogies (third and last mention of boogers) in their noses.

16. WHY am I always the very last person in any line? If I'm in line at a drive-thru, there will be 7-8 other people and they are all in front of me. I wait and I wait and I wait. I finally get my food. No one is behind me. If I had just gotten there 10 minutes later, I would have been first. This happens every time! If I'm in line at the bank or at the store - same thing. My timing is off.



And finally...

17. WHY did I just discover that the bag I had removed from Kate's school backpack the day they had their Easter party (a mere 13 days ago) and placed on my kitchen counter top only to ignore it until today contained two real, actual eggs - hard boiled eggs - that have been rotting this whole time.

This is a sign of a few things: My laziness you have read so much about - I never looked in that bag and it has just been sitting there on my counter untouched and unmoved for 13 days. Also, stupidity. Why did the teachers send kids home with real eggs? Surely I am not the only parent who doesn't immediately empty the contents of everything that comes home from school.

Right?

Right??!!

It's also a sign that apparently the scent of rotten eggs really isn't that strong since I never noticed it. The only reason I discovered it was because I finally found the will to tidy up the kitchen. I wasn't searching for a mystery smell that was inhabiting my kitchen. I was simply cleaning up. So, I guess the old expression, "Last one in is a rotten egg" isn't really that much of an insult.

Wait! One more - WHY is that expression still around?

Nine People + 13 & 1/2 Bottles of Wine = An Elderly Brothers Reunion!

Last weekend I had the honor of being invited to crash a reunion of my favorite band in the world - The Elderly Brothers! That's not a typo. I'm not referring to the 60's rock duo of Phil and Don Everly. I am speaking, of course, of the 1990s/2000s quartet of Jack, Ben, Tom and Andy - four old friends from the University of Tennessee.

Those of you who know me know that Jack is my father. The other guys are fraternity brothers and/or friends of his from the University of Tennessee back in the late fifties/early sixties. They kind of randomly came together back in the late 90s and had a jam session that led to a over a decade of good times, good music and lots and lots of alcohol. And I am lucky enough that they have allowed me to be a part of it.


My sister, Mary, and I have always kind of worshipped my dad. He's just an all-around good man with a whip-smart sense of humor and a kind and selfless way about him. So growing up, we used to park ourselves in the stairwell and listen to him and my mom when they hosted their friends, the Greers. (Greer, incidentally is the aforementioned Ben's last name as well as the middle name of my youngest daughter.) We even took to setting up a tape recorder to record their raucous goings-on and still quote the ridiculous exchanges to this day.

My parents have always been close friends with the Greers. We also grew up hearing Tom's name as he and my dad had been buddies in college. Andy we did not know growing up, but from what I understand my father knew of him when they were in school. They had all played together in various groupings in one form or another when they were in school. I don't think they had ever played together as a foursome until that weekend in Atlanta back in 1998.

When they came together that evening, something extraordinary happened - their voices blended perfectly and they sounded as though they'd been playing together for years. Or, perhaps it was the wine...

Mary and I were there that night, just taking it all in. We both were struck by how neat it was that these folks had drifted in and out of each others' lives for the previous four decades yet came together as though no time had passed at all. They still knew the words and the chords to all of their old standards. They sang the songs she and I had been forced to listen to ad nauseum as kids and now could not get enough of. They sang distasteful (albeit, hilarious) limericks.

And they laughed. They laughed and laughed - each playing off of the next one's narrative. And let's not forget, they drank. We all did. I seem to recall waking up that next morning trying like hell to summon the will to live. (I've woken up many a morning at the Greer's house with that feeling.) At the time, the Greer's older son was engaged and they were in the middle of planning the rehearsal dinner. Someone had the idea that perhaps the four of them should perform there after dinner was served. Then someone else piped in, "You should call yourselves the Elderly Brothers". I wish I could tell you I gave them that name, but I can't. It was my sister and I have hated her ever since for giving them the perfect name.

From there, the band was born. They have played several "gigs" (using that term loosely...) since that time and Mary and I were even asked to serve as back-up singers along with Ben's wife, Lynda. We were the "Viagras", and we were very good, thank you. One of the gigs they played happened to be my rehearsal dinner back in 2002 and it was so fabulous having these men who I dearly love be part of such a special time in my life.

So when we got word that after a long hiatus, they would be reconvening back in Atlanta, Mary and I asked Lynda if they would be so kind as to allow us to once again share in the joy of their time together. Her answer was yes (would she really have said no?!) and down to Atlanta we went. To sing along to songs that no one our age has ever heard of. To laugh harder with these folks approaching 70 years of age than we do with people our own age. To drink copious amounts of wine. And to relish in the bond that these men share after being in each others' lives for so many years.

As much as I love music and as big a role as it plays in my life, my real joy of the Elderly Brothers lies with an important lesson they have taught me. And that is, to surround myself with people of quality and to do everything I can to stay in touch with them as our lives go in differing directions. The people whom I consider to be my close friends are people who interest me and make me laugh. They are worth the effort it takes to keep in good touch.

I said in my very first post that I have been writing a book for some time now. The book is about my experience with the Elderly Brothers and what it has meant in my life. One day, I just may finish it - even if no one ever wants to read it. It's an important thing for me to write, because the subject has given a lot of meaning to my life. What is the meaning of life? I don't know, certainly, but for me it has something to do with creating opportunities to spend time with interesting people who matter to you. That's what the Elderly Brothers do.

Well, that, and they drink lots and lots of wine.

Go For The Goal!

Well, with Easter coming up in a few short weeks, I thought I'd let you
know how I am progressing toward my Lent goal. The original goal was for
me to exercise four times a week. I had to change that during the first
week of Lent due to my lack of doing anything that even began to resemble
approaching that goal. So, I gave up fast food.

I am proud to say that I have been successful thus far in my quest to stay
away from fast food! When Mike travels, it is so easy for me to just
swing by McDonald's and pick up Happy Meals for the kids and eat whatever
they don't eat (which is most of it). On those nights during the Lent
season, I have been feeding Meg cheese eggs - which she loves and will
actually eat - and I have been fixing Kate Princess Soup. It's just
chicken noodle soup where the noodles are shaped like Cinderella and glass
slippers and such. Because it is princess-ey, she'll eat it. I have been
fixing myself a sandwich on those nights and, as a result, have not been
miserably full for the rest of the evening. It's practically as easy and certainly better food for us to be eating. I think once Easter is upon
us and I can officially eat fast food again, I may be less likely to do
so. We'll see, but I am hopeful.

So, I am in the process of accomplishing a goal - yea me! For me, this is
a huge feat. I'm not a real goal-oriented person. There's just not a
whole lot outside of family and work that I am driven to do. Part of this
is just the laziness that is inherent in my personality. But the other
part is - if my family is happy and my manager is happy, then that's pretty
much what I wanted to accomplish.

I'm not one of those people who has said to herself, "I WILL run in a
marathon!" Nah, I'd like to be able to run in another 5k, but I have no desire
to take it beyond that. And I'm okay with having to walk in part of the
5k. Just so I finish with a pulse.

For me, instead of having a goal to be able to run a marathon, my goal
would be MUCH more attainable like:

After I take a nap, I may do laundry.

Now that's something I can live with. If it doesn't happen, (I'm talking
about the laundry here - the nap HAS to happen!) no harm done. (My
husband may disagree with that...) That way I'm not terribly disappointed
in myself for failing. I've left myself enough wiggle room that if I do
accomplish it, it's a nice surprise. And who doesn't love surprises?!!

I have a few friends who have had their babies without any labor
medication whatsoever. For some, there were medical reasons why they did
it. For others, it was because they are, apparently, insane. I asked
one friend out of curiosity why she chose natural childbirth. Her
response was, "Because I knew I could do it." Really? I'm sure I could
do it, too. I also think I could stand still while a fast-flying baseball
hit me in the teeth, but wouldn't it be more comfortable to just move out
of the way? What does it prove that you were able to have your baby
without meds? That you have superpowers the rest of us do not? I'll tell
you one thing you proved to the other expectant mothers who heard you
screaming while they had their babies with an epidural: that they made the
right call.

I don't mean to say that being goal-oriented makes you annoying. (It
makes you annoying to me, but I am only one person.) I'm just saying that
my method works out pretty well for me. I get to take lots and lots of naps. I watched the Winter Olympics recently and I wondered, when was the last time Bode Miller took a nap? Those people train for like, ever. Who wants that? If I wanted to train for a marathon held in the fall, I would have already had to be preparing for it. How on earth do I know what I'll be doing on the fall? I could be fat by then from not exercising.

So, I'm content with my little no-fast-food goal. I am SOOOOO glad I did not give up potato chips for Lent as I have done in the past. I would have caved for sure - Doritos has a new Cheeseburger flavored tortilla chip that is yummers. There's also a new Sour Cream and Green Onion flavor of Cape Cod chip. Haven't tried it yet, but I'm sure it will be everything I dream it will be.

Hope these last few weeks leading up to Easter are good for you too. Good luck with your goals if you are observing Lent. Now, I'm off to my nap.