Make a little love...get down tonight..Okay, so you know how the rest of the song goes.
"Would you like to go see KC and the Sunshine Band?"
Sure!
Let me say this one thing. Baby Boomers do not want to go see other baby boomers singing songs they made popular 30 years ago...really. I thought I did...but it was bad from the beginning. The Sunshine Band part was great..young, hip, talented. KC, well....thirty years equals thirty pounds, thinning hair, wrinkles, and WAY too much purple and glitter. I imagine a few too many road shows has made KC tired. The hips just ain't shakin' the way they used to, and the moves are just a little sloppy. Disheveled would be a good word to describe it.
We knew we were in trouble when they brought out a yellow cardigan thing to go over his black t shirt and trousers. To cover up the flabby belly most likely. And his big ass.
And the dancing girls...well, maybe they used to be girls, once. Now they are like a brick house...mighty, mighty and lettin' it all hang out. Eeeeeewe. They certainly would not win any prizes on reality tv shows like "But Can They Dance?"
After about an hour, I kind of lost interest. I think our sky box was the only group not up shakin their booty.
KC was gracious in his old age, however, and could easily laugh at himself. "What the hell happened?" he shouted. I woke up and I'm not young anymore!
Join us, KC. The room was filled with 40 and 50 somethings thinking they still looked 20 or 30. From my vantage point there was a lot of fake blonde hair, sagging body parts, and thinning scalps. I bet KC was feeling it the next day.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Monday, August 4, 2008
Thoughts on eggs and bad 80's music
I am glad to be going to work today and for the rest of summer. Vacation as I know it is over. Did I say vacation? Going back to work will be a vacation after the last few weeks. I am thinking of writing an essay: "What I Did On My Summer Vacation." Except it would read like fiction.
"Why are you stressed?" my husband asked the other day...He decided he should take me out to celebrate our wedding anniversary..which happened to fall in the middle of a three day golf tournament that recently concluded.
"Are you serious?" I got transferred to a job I didn't want, my aunt was diagnosed with cancer, my aunt died, I hurt my back, my mom is needy, my kids are at my house every day, it has rained almost every day, I got a new job, I had to resign my old job, I am teaching a class right now, I am teaching another calss next week and I start a new job in 2 weeks. My house got egged, I have no money, and the builders across the street are forcing me to close my windows and suffocate or listen to Barry Manilow blaring Mandy all day long. Are you kidding me?"
"Oh."
So the other night I heard something hit my house in the middle of the night-because I was laying awake for hours trying to go back to sleep. In the morning I discovered egg-gooey, sticky, egg yolk, egg white and shells all over my roof, my windows and my porch. Have fun golfing honey, while I spend the morning using the hose and goo-gone to scrub the nasty raw egg off our house. Of course, Barry Manilow was singing away amidst the electric saws.
That afternoon I spent entertaining...again. A house full of small children and large children. Grown men should not be allowed to drink margaritas..especially after spending the day golfing.
Day 2 of a three day weekend dawns. I should have gone away to some secluded island spa. More bad 80's music. More cleaning, more rain. Dinner is good..it is a guilt dinner, so of course I make him pay and drink lots of wine.
Day 3. My anniversary. Who cares? My mom comes by at noon, I entertain her and feed her lunch; my daughter comes by and spends the next 2 hours trying to control my grandsons. It thunders and there is lightening, and it pours and we are all sitting around looking at each other. Except for Aidan who is climbing all over the furniture and waging a cookie war with his mom.
The first shift leaves and the second shift arrives. The weekend golfer finally comes home and wonders why I am stressed. It is still raining. I have done nothing fun all weekend and you have done nothing BUT have fun all weekend. I went grocery shopping and have spent the day cooking and feeding people. I have a great idea! Why don't you stay for dinner! I can cook for you and clean up after you and entertain you. I can do it because I know tomorrow I am going back to work and I will have all the time in the world to relax.
A summer and a weekend that cannot end soon enough as far as I am concerned. There is a reason people go away on vacation. Maybe if I act now I can book a room for next weekend.
"Why are you stressed?" my husband asked the other day...He decided he should take me out to celebrate our wedding anniversary..which happened to fall in the middle of a three day golf tournament that recently concluded.
"Are you serious?" I got transferred to a job I didn't want, my aunt was diagnosed with cancer, my aunt died, I hurt my back, my mom is needy, my kids are at my house every day, it has rained almost every day, I got a new job, I had to resign my old job, I am teaching a class right now, I am teaching another calss next week and I start a new job in 2 weeks. My house got egged, I have no money, and the builders across the street are forcing me to close my windows and suffocate or listen to Barry Manilow blaring Mandy all day long. Are you kidding me?"
"Oh."
So the other night I heard something hit my house in the middle of the night-because I was laying awake for hours trying to go back to sleep. In the morning I discovered egg-gooey, sticky, egg yolk, egg white and shells all over my roof, my windows and my porch. Have fun golfing honey, while I spend the morning using the hose and goo-gone to scrub the nasty raw egg off our house. Of course, Barry Manilow was singing away amidst the electric saws.
That afternoon I spent entertaining...again. A house full of small children and large children. Grown men should not be allowed to drink margaritas..especially after spending the day golfing.
Day 2 of a three day weekend dawns. I should have gone away to some secluded island spa. More bad 80's music. More cleaning, more rain. Dinner is good..it is a guilt dinner, so of course I make him pay and drink lots of wine.
Day 3. My anniversary. Who cares? My mom comes by at noon, I entertain her and feed her lunch; my daughter comes by and spends the next 2 hours trying to control my grandsons. It thunders and there is lightening, and it pours and we are all sitting around looking at each other. Except for Aidan who is climbing all over the furniture and waging a cookie war with his mom.
The first shift leaves and the second shift arrives. The weekend golfer finally comes home and wonders why I am stressed. It is still raining. I have done nothing fun all weekend and you have done nothing BUT have fun all weekend. I went grocery shopping and have spent the day cooking and feeding people. I have a great idea! Why don't you stay for dinner! I can cook for you and clean up after you and entertain you. I can do it because I know tomorrow I am going back to work and I will have all the time in the world to relax.
A summer and a weekend that cannot end soon enough as far as I am concerned. There is a reason people go away on vacation. Maybe if I act now I can book a room for next weekend.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
ER: The Reality Show
So what it is about emergency room medical care? There is a reason you need a primary care physician no matter where you go. If you travel, be prepared to pack your own MD.
I think 8 hours in an emergency waiting room might be some kind of a record for me. It was worse because I was wearing a watch, and was hungry and cranky. By midnight I was just plain tired. In spite of the steady stream of characters that came and went while my father in law was being tested, tested, tested, the night was a total wash...and not because of the torrential rains.
We had normal people....who came and were diagnosed with appendicitis about 6 hours after they arrived; we had an elderly gentleman who had been seen in the Quick Care section...hours earlier...who was told "you need to be seen in the other section...sorry about that. "We had a tattooed drug addict demanding to be seen because he could not stand the itching any longer- going through withdrawal symptoms -crashing the examining room area. We had a patient leave the confines of the examining room area and wander outside in his slippers and johnnie...Where's the security in these places??We had a nurse manager who was kind of an ER Nazi of sorts. We saw her shift end at 11pm. We were still there when the midnight visitors arrived...whole families who arrived and hung out in the waiting room waiting for some Tylenol.
And then there was my sister in law and me...who, by virtue of seniority, owned the waiting room after being the first and last ones there.(8 hours) We had birthday cake in the truck for my mother in law, but it felt kind of rude to be eating cake in front of indigents. SO we waited, and we waited, and we were really bad about being patient.
We watched the Red Sox beat Seattle in 12 innings; we watched Hurricane Dolly over, and over, and over again on the Weather Channel, and we waited....
In the end...around 1am, it was determined that all the dreaded possibilities that could be, did not exist...and all that was left was a really hurting back...so with 3 pain pills and an umbrella, we all left. We headed back to the RV for birthday cake and a very short night's sleep.
ER...for real. Could have been a mini series or an epic, but there wasn't enough action.
I think 8 hours in an emergency waiting room might be some kind of a record for me. It was worse because I was wearing a watch, and was hungry and cranky. By midnight I was just plain tired. In spite of the steady stream of characters that came and went while my father in law was being tested, tested, tested, the night was a total wash...and not because of the torrential rains.
We had normal people....who came and were diagnosed with appendicitis about 6 hours after they arrived; we had an elderly gentleman who had been seen in the Quick Care section...hours earlier...who was told "you need to be seen in the other section...sorry about that. "We had a tattooed drug addict demanding to be seen because he could not stand the itching any longer- going through withdrawal symptoms -crashing the examining room area. We had a patient leave the confines of the examining room area and wander outside in his slippers and johnnie...Where's the security in these places??We had a nurse manager who was kind of an ER Nazi of sorts. We saw her shift end at 11pm. We were still there when the midnight visitors arrived...whole families who arrived and hung out in the waiting room waiting for some Tylenol.
And then there was my sister in law and me...who, by virtue of seniority, owned the waiting room after being the first and last ones there.(8 hours) We had birthday cake in the truck for my mother in law, but it felt kind of rude to be eating cake in front of indigents. SO we waited, and we waited, and we were really bad about being patient.
We watched the Red Sox beat Seattle in 12 innings; we watched Hurricane Dolly over, and over, and over again on the Weather Channel, and we waited....
In the end...around 1am, it was determined that all the dreaded possibilities that could be, did not exist...and all that was left was a really hurting back...so with 3 pain pills and an umbrella, we all left. We headed back to the RV for birthday cake and a very short night's sleep.
ER...for real. Could have been a mini series or an epic, but there wasn't enough action.
Monday, July 21, 2008
The House that Ruth Built
Some things cannot live up to the legend...Yankee Stadium is best left to Hollywood and the imagination or perhaps the memory of glory days long past.
Then, in preparation for a long anticipated trip the home of the Bronx Bombers we watched Billy Crystal's HBO movie *61; the story of Roger Maris and Mickey Mantle-teammates on the 1961 Yankees, both on track to break Babe Ruth's single season homerun record. The movie was great..but Billy Crystal's documentary on how he directed the movie and remade Tiger Stadium into Yankee Stadium in 1961 rang with passion. He loves the Yankees, and Yankee Stadium. The anticipation and expectation were just too much.
Easy to get to? Kinda...except NYC in the middle of July is just downright hot....and the subway stations are not air conditioned. Take the number 4 train...you can get a ticket at the booth down at the track. The guy in the booth was getting a chuckle watching my husband try to figure out what he wanted, and how he was going to get thru the turnstyle. He knew better...he came out from behind the glass to give LB a tutorial on swiping his card. On to the Number 4 train to Yankee Stadium. Sometimes it pays to be a tourist. Did I mention it was 95 degrees and humid? And the trains are not air conditioned either. But we were on our way to Yankee Stadium! The house the Ruth built!
I can see it! As the Number 4 train rumbled up alongside the stadium...the old stadium standing adjacent to the colosseum like new stadium scheduled to open next spring. All I could see was a sea of blue seats through a space in the outfield wall.
The train came to a halt and off we got...as I looked down the fire escape like structure onto the street below I was awestruck. What a dump! street vendors hawking t shirts..sleazy sports bars spilling out onto the nasty sidewalk; trash littering the ground..just a concrete jungle. Up overhead loomed the subway train tracks as the Number 4 train continued on its way.
Throngs of people headed like cattle to an opening in the cement wall...where's Gate number 2?
'Oh, around the other way."
"What do you mean you can't bring backpacks into the stadium?"
"You'll have to go over across form Gate Number 6 to the Bowling Alley to check your bag."
"Crap, my camera battery is just died!"
No one is ever going to believe this place without pictures.
Cracked cement, peeling paint, gloomy lighting, dank, dark and depressing.
Out onto the field the sun is shining and the stands go on forever, but the fact remains, it is a dump. No wonder the yankees hate Boston so much..they gotta be jealous of Fenway Park!
All I can say is they need a new stadium....and I hope they appreciate it. From the nasty food, to the grumpy people, to the flower pots acting as trash recepticals, Yankee Stadium is one place that is best remembered for how it used to be. Some people like old..say it lends character. I am just a spoiled Boston fan looking for a bit of history. Guess I'll watch the DVD.
First there was the Alll Star Game, hosted by Yankee Stadium. The stadium was packed with people. It shined in the night and I thought, how cool is that? We are gonna be there!
Then, in preparation for a long anticipated trip the home of the Bronx Bombers we watched Billy Crystal's HBO movie *61; the story of Roger Maris and Mickey Mantle-teammates on the 1961 Yankees, both on track to break Babe Ruth's single season homerun record. The movie was great..but Billy Crystal's documentary on how he directed the movie and remade Tiger Stadium into Yankee Stadium in 1961 rang with passion. He loves the Yankees, and Yankee Stadium. The anticipation and expectation were just too much.
Easy to get to? Kinda...except NYC in the middle of July is just downright hot....and the subway stations are not air conditioned. Take the number 4 train...you can get a ticket at the booth down at the track. The guy in the booth was getting a chuckle watching my husband try to figure out what he wanted, and how he was going to get thru the turnstyle. He knew better...he came out from behind the glass to give LB a tutorial on swiping his card. On to the Number 4 train to Yankee Stadium. Sometimes it pays to be a tourist. Did I mention it was 95 degrees and humid? And the trains are not air conditioned either. But we were on our way to Yankee Stadium! The house the Ruth built!
I can see it! As the Number 4 train rumbled up alongside the stadium...the old stadium standing adjacent to the colosseum like new stadium scheduled to open next spring. All I could see was a sea of blue seats through a space in the outfield wall.
The train came to a halt and off we got...as I looked down the fire escape like structure onto the street below I was awestruck. What a dump! street vendors hawking t shirts..sleazy sports bars spilling out onto the nasty sidewalk; trash littering the ground..just a concrete jungle. Up overhead loomed the subway train tracks as the Number 4 train continued on its way.
Throngs of people headed like cattle to an opening in the cement wall...where's Gate number 2?
'Oh, around the other way."
"What do you mean you can't bring backpacks into the stadium?"
"You'll have to go over across form Gate Number 6 to the Bowling Alley to check your bag."
"Crap, my camera battery is just died!"
No one is ever going to believe this place without pictures.
Cracked cement, peeling paint, gloomy lighting, dank, dark and depressing.
Out onto the field the sun is shining and the stands go on forever, but the fact remains, it is a dump. No wonder the yankees hate Boston so much..they gotta be jealous of Fenway Park!
All I can say is they need a new stadium....and I hope they appreciate it. From the nasty food, to the grumpy people, to the flower pots acting as trash recepticals, Yankee Stadium is one place that is best remembered for how it used to be. Some people like old..say it lends character. I am just a spoiled Boston fan looking for a bit of history. Guess I'll watch the DVD.
Friday, July 18, 2008
The ultimate resort experience
It's here! That' s right! I have a swimming pool..so you know what that means. The place where no self respecting teenager would ever want to "hang out" has now become the ultimate summertime resort. Lounge chairs, beverages, snacks, popsicles and a pool. We even offer rooms for naps if needed. I can't complain, except it is constant. Sometimes everyone is here at once....other times we have morning sessions and afternoon sessions. My children used to call me maybe once aweek...now it's at least once a day. The conversation often goes like this:
" Hey, are you gonna be home today?" or "Hi, it's me, I was just calling to check in.....are you guys gonna be home today?" or "What are you doing?" that's a loaded question. What I should say is, "I am vaccuuming the pool, washing the dishes, wiping the drool off the hardwood floors, and cleaning cookie scum off my sofa. I am straightening my magazines and I need to go to the grocery store because we are out of beer and juice and diet Pepsi. And white bread."
But I must say it can be very entertaining. We have at least one temper tantrum every hour. The youngens are learning attitude from each other...how to talk back with a tone, roll their eyes, and bat their eyelashes to get their own way. We are learning how to help out, clean up after ourselves, open and shut the screen door, and use a watering can to water weeds.
We are also learning who can do the best belly flop off the diving board, how to breath using a snorkel, and which goggles look the most attractive with our swimsuit.
This resort offers recreational activities not too far away..such as golf, bike riding and wiffle ball. And there are often resident experts on hand to offer lessons.
So, for the price of a bottle of wine or a six pack and some Cheeze-its, the ultimate resort experience can be yours. Don't bother to call to see if I'm home or ask what I'm doing....if I don't answer the phone it's because I'm busy getting ready for my guests. Just show up with your suit and towel. I recommend an SPF sunscreen of at least 45 though, because the sun can get hot hanging out on the deck.
See you at the pool.
" Hey, are you gonna be home today?" or "Hi, it's me, I was just calling to check in.....are you guys gonna be home today?" or "What are you doing?" that's a loaded question. What I should say is, "I am vaccuuming the pool, washing the dishes, wiping the drool off the hardwood floors, and cleaning cookie scum off my sofa. I am straightening my magazines and I need to go to the grocery store because we are out of beer and juice and diet Pepsi. And white bread."
But I must say it can be very entertaining. We have at least one temper tantrum every hour. The youngens are learning attitude from each other...how to talk back with a tone, roll their eyes, and bat their eyelashes to get their own way. We are learning how to help out, clean up after ourselves, open and shut the screen door, and use a watering can to water weeds.
We are also learning who can do the best belly flop off the diving board, how to breath using a snorkel, and which goggles look the most attractive with our swimsuit.
This resort offers recreational activities not too far away..such as golf, bike riding and wiffle ball. And there are often resident experts on hand to offer lessons.
So, for the price of a bottle of wine or a six pack and some Cheeze-its, the ultimate resort experience can be yours. Don't bother to call to see if I'm home or ask what I'm doing....if I don't answer the phone it's because I'm busy getting ready for my guests. Just show up with your suit and towel. I recommend an SPF sunscreen of at least 45 though, because the sun can get hot hanging out on the deck.
See you at the pool.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Summertime Thoughts
It has been awhile. since my last post.There is no avoiding it...summer has arrived. In spite of New Hampshire's version of June Gloom, summer is officially here. So far, not so good. So far we have had to say goodbye to my aunt, and we will miss her terribly. It is a reminder not to take things for granted..especially people. There are some people-friends and relatives- I swear I have not seen in years. Unfortunately, sometimes 6 weeks can be too long. Make a point of spending time with people you care about. What would happen if they were to disappear from your life today?
So far there has been a lot of rain..afternoon thunderstorms. Are we living in Florida or NH? It is a process when it rains..there are umbrellas, pool toys and cushions ....I have decided to leave the cushions out...so what it if they get wet.
So far not much golf. I am supposed to be on vacation! How is it I have no time for leisure activities? I have had to book hair, nails, massage, and golf. I have had relatives dropping in, staying over. I have even had to clean and cook!! I want to go back to work I think.....I'm tired of being on vacation.
So far I have met a guy from Illinois who moved to California who finished sentences with "Right on!" He has long dreadlocks, tatoos, wears birkies and John Lennon sunglasses. Right on!
I have a new list, it's called:
THINGS I WANT TO DO THIS SUMMER. I wonder how many things will get crossed off? A couple, I hope.
So far there has been a lot of rain..afternoon thunderstorms. Are we living in Florida or NH? It is a process when it rains..there are umbrellas, pool toys and cushions ....I have decided to leave the cushions out...so what it if they get wet.
So far not much golf. I am supposed to be on vacation! How is it I have no time for leisure activities? I have had to book hair, nails, massage, and golf. I have had relatives dropping in, staying over. I have even had to clean and cook!! I want to go back to work I think.....I'm tired of being on vacation.
So far I have met a guy from Illinois who moved to California who finished sentences with "Right on!" He has long dreadlocks, tatoos, wears birkies and John Lennon sunglasses. Right on!
I have a new list, it's called:
THINGS I WANT TO DO THIS SUMMER. I wonder how many things will get crossed off? A couple, I hope.
- I want to tour the Sam Adams Brewery;
- I want to go see a Fisher Cats game, or Portland Sea Dogs, I'm not fussy.
- I want to take the Downeaster to somewhere..I haven't decided yet. I love trains. I
- want to go away, to a place with a pool, and do nothing for 2 days except do nothing. No worries...no phone calls, no computer, no television.
- I want to read my neighbor's book UNREQUITED
- I want to organize my photos (that' son the long list, too.)
- And I want to have at least 2 parties
So there it is. Summer is here. I am hopeful and happy. It is a time to regenerate and renew and relax. If only I can find a few minutes...
Sunday, June 22, 2008
The Truth About Golfers
So, you ask, what is it like to see real professional tour golfers up close and in person? Well, I guess it's kind of like seeing a celebrity in person. Once they jump off the TV screen onto the fairway, they are just regular people...with some really cool clothes.
For example, from my living room couch, I thought Tiger Woods was at least 6'4. Apparently, the only reason his smaller frame looks so much larger than everyone else's, is because many of the golfers are small....like, I mean, 6 ft tall or less. Yes, that's right. Who knew? They also come in all shapes and sizes. Most of them are lean and not very large, either. Tiger is ripped, and Phil is trying to pump it up, but pretty much, their muscles are long and lean. I would have to say Vijay is probably one of the tallest golfers on the tour, but that could be becuse he is sooooo slim. Apparently he is not very nice to people along the course, either, especially when things don't go his way.
The most sylish dressers are definitely the Europeans. Tiger is very conservative. and who is responsible for Phil's wardrobe? I think he is trying to reinvent himself, and it is not working, at least for me.
The caddies are amazing. The golfers totally rely on their caddies for information, guidance and of course, to lug their bags around.
The biggest lesson I learned by observing the best golfers in the world is:
1) There are ALOT of bad golf shots...and not many great ones
2) Golfers keep their bodies REALLY still. There is an amazing efficiency of movement so that all of their energy is transferred to that little golf ball.
3) A Positive attitude goes a very long way. It was very obvious that when shots went bad, the golfers who kept their wits about them ended up in a better place than those who threw their clubs.
4) And it really is all about the putt. Champions are determined more often than not by 3 feet or less.
Everyone should have the opportunity to see the people we idolize up close, in person. Turns out, they really do exist, and they are just like you and me....only a whole lot better at golf.
For example, from my living room couch, I thought Tiger Woods was at least 6'4. Apparently, the only reason his smaller frame looks so much larger than everyone else's, is because many of the golfers are small....like, I mean, 6 ft tall or less. Yes, that's right. Who knew? They also come in all shapes and sizes. Most of them are lean and not very large, either. Tiger is ripped, and Phil is trying to pump it up, but pretty much, their muscles are long and lean. I would have to say Vijay is probably one of the tallest golfers on the tour, but that could be becuse he is sooooo slim. Apparently he is not very nice to people along the course, either, especially when things don't go his way.
The most sylish dressers are definitely the Europeans. Tiger is very conservative. and who is responsible for Phil's wardrobe? I think he is trying to reinvent himself, and it is not working, at least for me.
The caddies are amazing. The golfers totally rely on their caddies for information, guidance and of course, to lug their bags around.
The biggest lesson I learned by observing the best golfers in the world is:
1) There are ALOT of bad golf shots...and not many great ones
2) Golfers keep their bodies REALLY still. There is an amazing efficiency of movement so that all of their energy is transferred to that little golf ball.
3) A Positive attitude goes a very long way. It was very obvious that when shots went bad, the golfers who kept their wits about them ended up in a better place than those who threw their clubs.
4) And it really is all about the putt. Champions are determined more often than not by 3 feet or less.
Everyone should have the opportunity to see the people we idolize up close, in person. Turns out, they really do exist, and they are just like you and me....only a whole lot better at golf.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)