I've written about The Buff's "Thursday in the Park" concert series before when Yonder Mountain String Band performed. The concerts are free, the beer is Canadian (Labatts) and the crowd is perfect for people watching. Jakob Dylan was great a few weeks ago and Jimmie Vaughn had the house a' rockin last week. Tonight? Mickey Hart. I'm already wearing tie-dye.
My first Dead show was in 1989, and my "generation" of fans are referred to by Deadheads of the first wave as "Touch-heads" because our fandom crested when The Dead threw the video for "Touch of Grey" into high-rotation on MYV in 1987. These are the ways of the world. What could I have done about this apparently blatant smack in the face to Generation Baby Boom as they watched The Dead directly confront (and win over) Generation X? Even at 16, I gauged the situation, saw what the deal was, and wore a tie-dye dress for my high school graduation. Showtime!
That first Dead show for me was at Rich Stadium (now Ralph Wilson Stadium), home to the Buff Bills and any large event that needs 76,000 seats to pull off. The show was astounding to me: the people, the atmosphere, how great the tunes sounded (many of which I had just recently come to know), the whole deal. Here's where it gets interesting, to the point where when I tell this story, I get good laughs (and I'm frequently told my jokes are not funny but this is no joke).
A-hem. I am not a big drug user. Present me with a cooler full of Bud Lite and you have me forever. But growing up in the 'burbs of The Buff offered its share of whatever drug was out there. Mushrooms? Whenever friends took them, they immediately threw up. No thanks. Blow? I don't need any more stimulants in this lil' body, thank you. CRACK? No drug should be in that much demand if named after a body part that is always covered. Acid? I create alternate universes for myself pretty regularly anyway. Heroin? Um, no. And, any pot--even "good stuff" makes me dopey and sleepy. For real. So, beer is my drug of choice, and was on my first Dead show day.
NOW, my father is an Eagle Scout and his buddies volunteered at a food stand in the stadium for EVERY event for, like, a decade. The proceeds benefited Boy Scout troop stuff. He drove me and a bunch of slightly buzzed friends to the gate and dropped us like a swirly, giggly pancake into the parking lot. My dad had already figured out that I was generally a "good kid" who liked a cold, frosty beverage (or 10) every once in awhile, and even at 18, he didn't give me much flak about it. That day, I became the "beer runner" for my friends and I, and often made them giddy by returning to our spot in the Dead world that day with trays of beers and snacks from my dad.
Right before the second set, my friend Marc warbled, "we're out of munitions." So, off I went. I wasn't bombed by any means because the show was fun and I had sort of became the de facto leader of this crazy Brady Bunch of friends. This is the conversation that ensued with my pops:
Me: Hey Dad. Six beers stat. Any maybe some pizza.
Dad (with his frown/raised-eyebrow combo accompanied by laughter from my two Uncles, one Aunt, and several other adults I'd known since birth): Are you sure?
Me: Of course I'm sure. Why not?
Dad: (still frowning). Ok. Wait here.
Dad (coming back with gifts but still frowning): How's the show?
Me: Awesome! Are you going to check out a song or two?
Dad (still frowning): Maybe as we close up here at the end.
Me: Cool. Why are you frowning like that?
Dad: Oh, shit. I don't know. Our sales are down and no one can figure out why. The beer's going like mad, but the pizza's sitting here getting cold. It's a sell-out show, for chrissakes. (more frowning, people watching)
Me (in all serious): What's on the pizza?
Dad: Cheese and friggin' pepperoni, what the hell else would be on a friggin' pizza?
Me (pausing, thinking): Dad, the vast majority of this crowd wouldn't eat a pepperoni even if it had Acid on it. Pull the pepperoni off before you put it in the oven and get Uncle John to start yelling "Veggie Pizza, Veggie Pizza!!" and see what happens?!?!?!
Dad (dramatic pause): HOLY SHIT! (turns to my Unlce) John, start pulling that goddamn pepperoni off. Now. This isn't a goddamn football game for chrissakes. Holy shit!
Me: Yahoo!!!! Gotta go. I'll meet you here after for a ride home.
Dad: Thanks Jude! Do you want a concert shirt or something?
Me: Sure! Pick out a cool one for me. See ya!
And I traipsed my way back to the pack. Two hours later, I met my dad back the stand with several severely altered friends. The pizza had sold out, and Deadheads of all ages had been "digging" the veggie style. My family was in stitches. NOW, I was bombed, but happy in my drunkenness that my dad had a good night AND had bought me a killer concert-T with spiral dancing bears on it. Family effort, I guess.
That shirt is in my T-shirt drawer right now, and that's what I'm wearing to see Mickey Hart tonight. With a stick of pepperoni in my bag, of course.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
saving Nemo
Again, it's early. I'm the early bird filled with energy and inspiration before 8am again. So, besides the garden, I have put together a spiffy fish aquarium. I saw a cool 25 gallon tank on a black iron stand at a garage sale while attending a 3-year old's birthday party in The Buff's Parkside neighborhood (very cool part of town). Cheap as hell with no leaks. Sold!
It is not salt water (I'm not that high maintenance, nor do I want to become so), and on this clear and already crazy morning, my Bala shark and one of my red Tetras are covered in little white spots. And going down fast. A hunch says its "Ick," a sickness prone to freshwater fish, although I remember some kid at the fish store telling me when asked about a similar condition on one of their fish that it wasn't. But it sure looks like it is. Bummer. My son's fish is the shark, and he's not here. If Sharky dies, do I replace and fake it or pull the "circle of life" lesson? Oh, parenting.......So, my errand list has changed dramatically from "Don't leave the house and don't spend any money. Stay on the chair and write" to a whole host of tiny duties close to PetSmart. Hypermiling included.
Without any concern I admit that "Finding Nemo" was one of my more favorite kid-angled movies to experience since becoming a parent. I have no idea how many times I have sat through this film (dozens? almost a hundred?) but I love it for many reasons:
1. I love the water/fish/swimming anyway and this movie is beautiful in its computer-generated underwater world.
2. The actors hired for the voices of all the fish are stellar.
3. The message always makes me cry
4. The turtles are beach surfers/hippies
5. It reminds me of Adorno because...
6. I love the music (Thomas Newman) although almost all of my graduate musicology education tells me I shouldn't.
I took a seminar in grad school about film music. The class sucked while being perfect at the same time, and it is all coming together today in my fish tank dilemma as I now listen to the "Finding Nemo" soundtrack that has been long downloaded into my computer (my son loves it). The seminar was GREAT because I took it my first semester and the instructor had no idea how to lead a true seminar and gave us no extra work outside of class. For real. It saved me that semester. It was also great because we watched movies three hours a week and listened to her explain the merits and content of the music. Week after week. It was also great because I used "Finding Nemo" for the final (and only) assignment, which took me about an hour to prepare. Not the greatest model for a grad seminar, but it worked for me.
What has always bugged me most about that seminar is the instructor's insistence that current Hollywood film music composers have ruined "the good old days" of movies which, in her mind, extends from the birth of Hollywood until circa 1978 or so. IN GENERAL, I frown at those who bemoan our current existence in favor of one they didn't live through but have learned about. I feel it's ok for an 85-year old to bitch about how the 1950s were better but feel itchy when a 40-year old does.......A-hem.......Anyhoo, learning about/understanding/continuing to grasp Adorno's philosophy was probably the most VALUABLE part of my grad school efforts (and he never came up in the film studies course, for real). And I sit lulled and captivated by Thomas Newman's swishy swirly (lovely) music and feel trapped in the Culture Industry, a pawn in my own pathetic aesthetic existence (Adorno would attest).
And I sometimes don't care. Or can't. Or I simply move on. The loss of a fish, the loss of control (if I ever had it), the loss of the good old days....whatever.....I don't like to make categories of "good" and "bad" and try to use "what is being determined as valuable" and "what is not working" instead. Change is the common element, not stasis. So what is not working today comes down to solving a health issue for my fishies. But other than that, everything else is. Happy Wednesday!
It is not salt water (I'm not that high maintenance, nor do I want to become so), and on this clear and already crazy morning, my Bala shark and one of my red Tetras are covered in little white spots. And going down fast. A hunch says its "Ick," a sickness prone to freshwater fish, although I remember some kid at the fish store telling me when asked about a similar condition on one of their fish that it wasn't. But it sure looks like it is. Bummer. My son's fish is the shark, and he's not here. If Sharky dies, do I replace and fake it or pull the "circle of life" lesson? Oh, parenting.......So, my errand list has changed dramatically from "Don't leave the house and don't spend any money. Stay on the chair and write" to a whole host of tiny duties close to PetSmart. Hypermiling included.
Without any concern I admit that "Finding Nemo" was one of my more favorite kid-angled movies to experience since becoming a parent. I have no idea how many times I have sat through this film (dozens? almost a hundred?) but I love it for many reasons:
1. I love the water/fish/swimming anyway and this movie is beautiful in its computer-generated underwater world.
2. The actors hired for the voices of all the fish are stellar.
3. The message always makes me cry
4. The turtles are beach surfers/hippies
5. It reminds me of Adorno because...
6. I love the music (Thomas Newman) although almost all of my graduate musicology education tells me I shouldn't.
I took a seminar in grad school about film music. The class sucked while being perfect at the same time, and it is all coming together today in my fish tank dilemma as I now listen to the "Finding Nemo" soundtrack that has been long downloaded into my computer (my son loves it). The seminar was GREAT because I took it my first semester and the instructor had no idea how to lead a true seminar and gave us no extra work outside of class. For real. It saved me that semester. It was also great because we watched movies three hours a week and listened to her explain the merits and content of the music. Week after week. It was also great because I used "Finding Nemo" for the final (and only) assignment, which took me about an hour to prepare. Not the greatest model for a grad seminar, but it worked for me.
What has always bugged me most about that seminar is the instructor's insistence that current Hollywood film music composers have ruined "the good old days" of movies which, in her mind, extends from the birth of Hollywood until circa 1978 or so. IN GENERAL, I frown at those who bemoan our current existence in favor of one they didn't live through but have learned about. I feel it's ok for an 85-year old to bitch about how the 1950s were better but feel itchy when a 40-year old does.......A-hem.......Anyhoo, learning about/understanding/continuing to grasp Adorno's philosophy was probably the most VALUABLE part of my grad school efforts (and he never came up in the film studies course, for real). And I sit lulled and captivated by Thomas Newman's swishy swirly (lovely) music and feel trapped in the Culture Industry, a pawn in my own pathetic aesthetic existence (Adorno would attest).
And I sometimes don't care. Or can't. Or I simply move on. The loss of a fish, the loss of control (if I ever had it), the loss of the good old days....whatever.....I don't like to make categories of "good" and "bad" and try to use "what is being determined as valuable" and "what is not working" instead. Change is the common element, not stasis. So what is not working today comes down to solving a health issue for my fishies. But other than that, everything else is. Happy Wednesday!
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
watching peas grow
I am not usually a "morning" person. Without the jolt of an alarm clock, my inner clock feels best going off around 8am or so. Today, I was up at 6am although I slept terribly. I had a weird weekend and still felt yucky yesterday and hoped for a great, long night of deep sleep (there was a bee sting involved on Saturday which altered my universe for awhile......) but didn't get it.
But, I'm up and in the chair already. Coffee is brewing, teeth are brushed, the Word files are ready to be opened. My boyfriend won't be home from work til around 9pm and I've scheduled no other events today and don't want to spend any money (I try this experiment often, the not spending anything thing. I love when it's a success). So, I'm hunkered down in The Buff and will try to make the most of Diss writing and other assorted odds and ends around my house.
When I searched for a house here a year ago, I had to adjust to the Buffalo housing market and how different it is from, well, the rest of the country. There has been no housing "bubble," so to say because this is not a highly desired part of the country to move to. In fact, people keep moving out mostly to the south (the Carolinas, Florida, Atlanta). So, I paid much less for a bigger house here in Buffalo than either of the two houses in I had in Denver (that was bigger, actually, but needed A LOT of work) or Madison. Which is good.
The Buff house needed a lot of TLC. I could sense its potential compared to the price, however, and the backyard was pretty much an open template of possibilities for me to explore. So, I started a garden. To be honest, I hardly ate veggies growing up. Meat n' potatoes kind of thing. Now I eat them all and like to experiment mixing different elements together. Salads are my favorite meal.
I have two pumpkin plants with plenty of space for their future take over of the land, seven tomato plants, one strawberry plant, five beans, two red bell peppers, one cucumber, one Anaheim pepper, one cayenne pepper, one cilantro plant and one pea plant. It's not huge, but I like the variety and have already picked enough beans for a salad and some peppers. I've already got big plans for next year since all seems to be going well so far.
When I need a break from the chair and time to think about whatever passage I'm trying to write through, I go out and watch my garden. The fascinating plant is the pea plant. I've got five pods on it now, and it's little tendrils reach out throughout the day for some support. I've stuck four sticks in the ground and for each part of the plant that's exploring, it easily finds it's best stick and wraps that wispy (but no doubt strong) slender green finger around it. And, sometimes this occurs in under an hour! Amazing!
There must be some kind of "In Judy's Garden" playlist I can put together in light of all of this creativity/activity. "Four Sticks" by Zeppelin, "Beans n' Cornbread" by whomever that is, "Wicked Garden" by STP, "Garden" by Pearl Jam, "The Great Pumpkin" from The Peanuts, something by Weather Report, "Let It Grow" by Eric Clapton, something from a Robert Plant solo record, Soundgarden......hmmmmmmm. This might be fun. Other suggestions welcome!
I'm goin' out to check the peas. I need something for breakfast after all!!
But, I'm up and in the chair already. Coffee is brewing, teeth are brushed, the Word files are ready to be opened. My boyfriend won't be home from work til around 9pm and I've scheduled no other events today and don't want to spend any money (I try this experiment often, the not spending anything thing. I love when it's a success). So, I'm hunkered down in The Buff and will try to make the most of Diss writing and other assorted odds and ends around my house.
When I searched for a house here a year ago, I had to adjust to the Buffalo housing market and how different it is from, well, the rest of the country. There has been no housing "bubble," so to say because this is not a highly desired part of the country to move to. In fact, people keep moving out mostly to the south (the Carolinas, Florida, Atlanta). So, I paid much less for a bigger house here in Buffalo than either of the two houses in I had in Denver (that was bigger, actually, but needed A LOT of work) or Madison. Which is good.
The Buff house needed a lot of TLC. I could sense its potential compared to the price, however, and the backyard was pretty much an open template of possibilities for me to explore. So, I started a garden. To be honest, I hardly ate veggies growing up. Meat n' potatoes kind of thing. Now I eat them all and like to experiment mixing different elements together. Salads are my favorite meal.
I have two pumpkin plants with plenty of space for their future take over of the land, seven tomato plants, one strawberry plant, five beans, two red bell peppers, one cucumber, one Anaheim pepper, one cayenne pepper, one cilantro plant and one pea plant. It's not huge, but I like the variety and have already picked enough beans for a salad and some peppers. I've already got big plans for next year since all seems to be going well so far.
When I need a break from the chair and time to think about whatever passage I'm trying to write through, I go out and watch my garden. The fascinating plant is the pea plant. I've got five pods on it now, and it's little tendrils reach out throughout the day for some support. I've stuck four sticks in the ground and for each part of the plant that's exploring, it easily finds it's best stick and wraps that wispy (but no doubt strong) slender green finger around it. And, sometimes this occurs in under an hour! Amazing!
There must be some kind of "In Judy's Garden" playlist I can put together in light of all of this creativity/activity. "Four Sticks" by Zeppelin, "Beans n' Cornbread" by whomever that is, "Wicked Garden" by STP, "Garden" by Pearl Jam, "The Great Pumpkin" from The Peanuts, something by Weather Report, "Let It Grow" by Eric Clapton, something from a Robert Plant solo record, Soundgarden......hmmmmmmm. This might be fun. Other suggestions welcome!
I'm goin' out to check the peas. I need something for breakfast after all!!
Thursday, July 10, 2008
A beautiful day.....on the chair
It's gorgeous outside right now. 10am, clear skies, sunny, 70 degrees. Yesterday it was very soggy, humid and rainy until about 3pm when I left for the moe. show. Yesterday, I had no problem focusing on writing, and I wrote very well and feel like I accomplished some good problem-solving, thinking and prose. And today...what a beautiful day! So, I've glued myself to my chair (mentally I envision my butt "attached" to this chair) with the notion that I simply cannot go outside to garden, swim or chat with my neighbors (I'm sort of chatty.....) because I simply cannot remove my tush from this chair. Until 3pm. And only to go to the bathroom or get coffee and then quickly return to the chair. Must....stay....on....chair.
I have two chapters in the works right now. My Chapter 1/intro/prospectus that I gave to my adviser in May is the typical sort of outline of the Diss, and I haven't looked at in awhile. Which I think is good for now. By August, I hope to have all of Chapter 2 written (tentatively called, "Borders, Bridges and Booze: A Brief History of Music in Buffalo, New York") and much more solid writing and narrative research for Chapter 3. I have a feeling that my Chapter 1/prospectus is going to read like a bunch of 1st-year grad school slop by the time I get back to it in late August. I hope to know a helluva lot more about what I'm actually writing about than I did while trying to describe what I HOPED to write about (the latter being much of the content of Chapter 1, me thinks...). Quite a process, this Diss.
Chapter 3 requires a visit to the National Archives in D.C., which I had thought could be accomplished next week. Ha Ha Ho Ho that is not fucking possible. I'm realizing that I need to get the music history of Buffalo prior to 1925 (Chapter 2) down and dirty before REALLY understanding what I need for Chapter 3 (the development of the Buff Phil Orch due to New Deal/FMP funding). But oddly--and other writers can hopefully understand this cuz if not, i'm up Shit's Creek, big time--I DO know what I need to research at the Archives, sort of. But not really. But sort of. It's tricky to try to explain. Eh-hemmm......I know the information that I need is only available there in numerous boxes. I know that it will help me put together some missing pieces not available here in The Buff. I know (intuitively) that the factoids in those boxes will mesh with the research and theories I'm putting forth so far in Chap. 3. BUT, I don't know what's in those boxes because I HAVEN'T GONE THERE YET. But I can't go yet. Not yet. Oy vey.
I'm staring to slowly spin around and around on this chair, as if my own swirling logic gives this hunk of metal some momentum of its own. But I will not get off the chair today. Until 3pm. Well wishes appreciated......
I have two chapters in the works right now. My Chapter 1/intro/prospectus that I gave to my adviser in May is the typical sort of outline of the Diss, and I haven't looked at in awhile. Which I think is good for now. By August, I hope to have all of Chapter 2 written (tentatively called, "Borders, Bridges and Booze: A Brief History of Music in Buffalo, New York") and much more solid writing and narrative research for Chapter 3. I have a feeling that my Chapter 1/prospectus is going to read like a bunch of 1st-year grad school slop by the time I get back to it in late August. I hope to know a helluva lot more about what I'm actually writing about than I did while trying to describe what I HOPED to write about (the latter being much of the content of Chapter 1, me thinks...). Quite a process, this Diss.
Chapter 3 requires a visit to the National Archives in D.C., which I had thought could be accomplished next week. Ha Ha Ho Ho that is not fucking possible. I'm realizing that I need to get the music history of Buffalo prior to 1925 (Chapter 2) down and dirty before REALLY understanding what I need for Chapter 3 (the development of the Buff Phil Orch due to New Deal/FMP funding). But oddly--and other writers can hopefully understand this cuz if not, i'm up Shit's Creek, big time--I DO know what I need to research at the Archives, sort of. But not really. But sort of. It's tricky to try to explain. Eh-hemmm......I know the information that I need is only available there in numerous boxes. I know that it will help me put together some missing pieces not available here in The Buff. I know (intuitively) that the factoids in those boxes will mesh with the research and theories I'm putting forth so far in Chap. 3. BUT, I don't know what's in those boxes because I HAVEN'T GONE THERE YET. But I can't go yet. Not yet. Oy vey.
I'm staring to slowly spin around and around on this chair, as if my own swirling logic gives this hunk of metal some momentum of its own. But I will not get off the chair today. Until 3pm. Well wishes appreciated......
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
takin' mom to moe.
Now that my son is with his dad for a month, my relationship with my parents shifts a bit. They live close by and are very involved in our lives, which is wonderful. They babysit my son or we all go do something usually revolving around activities that the little guy enjoys, etc. Now that I'm flying solo, my days are filling up with Diss work, yardwork, hanging with my boyfriend and slipping out here and there to chill with my girlfriends. So, it's a different kind of effort to interact with my parents when there isn't a fresh faced 8-year old to focus on. For instance, I'm going over Thursday afternoon to do a shitload of sidewalk edging for my father, who can't do it himself anymore. And I'm sure I'll be on a ladder checking gutters or some other daughterly task. Which is fun in its own right.
Anyway, tonight I'm taking my mom to see moe., a band originally from Buffalo and longtime friends of mine. They are playing a free outdoor concert at Artpark in Lewiston, NY, a bastion of natural and artistic beauty sitting right on the Niagara Gorge (google Artpark. It's a beautiful place). The concert starts at 6:30 and moe. will play two sets with no opening band (a usual live format for them). My history with moe. begins in 1993 when I saw them live at a bar in downtown Buffalo and was simultaneously trying to bully my way into the Buffalo music journalism scene. I wrote my first "feature" article on moe. in a zine called "Slack." It was my first article AND their first article. We became fast friends and still have contact after all these years.
I'm hoping to get backstage to say hi and I'm hoping my mom will enjoy this experience. She is not a regular concert goer, per se, but my son has brought out this wonderful youth and invigorated energy in both of my parents, so she is up for anything these days. moe. always puts on a great show to boot.
moe. is often listed as a jamband, if that term even has any merit left. I find them a well-rounded representative of the blue-collar town that bred them.....sort of Rush meets The Dead meets Triumph meets George Carlin. The band is humorous, smart, and wickedly musical. I also respect how they grabbed the reigns of the band back from Sony after signing an early record deal (1996-ish) and discovering that they could more ably handle their career themselves.
Artpark is about an hour away, over several bridges and into the northern part of the Buffalo-Niagara region. I haven't been there for awhile, and in prep for the trip, I've compiled a moe. playlist for the Nano to take along. Here it is:
1. Seat of My Pants
2. Stranger Than Fiction
3. Spine of a Dog
4. St. Augustine
5. Captain America
6. Happy Hour Hero
7. New York City
8. Tambourine
9. Plane Crash
10. Nebraska
11. Not Coming Down
12. Moth
13. Buster
14. Timmy Tucker
15. Brent Black
16. Rebubula (live)
Not a bad way to spend an evening with mom. Dylan is coming soon, and maybe I'll take my mom, myself, and my son (he'll be back by then, and this would be his second time seeing The Dylan).....this could be the start of a great multi-generational rock out for the Bradys!!!!
Anyway, tonight I'm taking my mom to see moe., a band originally from Buffalo and longtime friends of mine. They are playing a free outdoor concert at Artpark in Lewiston, NY, a bastion of natural and artistic beauty sitting right on the Niagara Gorge (google Artpark. It's a beautiful place). The concert starts at 6:30 and moe. will play two sets with no opening band (a usual live format for them). My history with moe. begins in 1993 when I saw them live at a bar in downtown Buffalo and was simultaneously trying to bully my way into the Buffalo music journalism scene. I wrote my first "feature" article on moe. in a zine called "Slack." It was my first article AND their first article. We became fast friends and still have contact after all these years.
I'm hoping to get backstage to say hi and I'm hoping my mom will enjoy this experience. She is not a regular concert goer, per se, but my son has brought out this wonderful youth and invigorated energy in both of my parents, so she is up for anything these days. moe. always puts on a great show to boot.
moe. is often listed as a jamband, if that term even has any merit left. I find them a well-rounded representative of the blue-collar town that bred them.....sort of Rush meets The Dead meets Triumph meets George Carlin. The band is humorous, smart, and wickedly musical. I also respect how they grabbed the reigns of the band back from Sony after signing an early record deal (1996-ish) and discovering that they could more ably handle their career themselves.
Artpark is about an hour away, over several bridges and into the northern part of the Buffalo-Niagara region. I haven't been there for awhile, and in prep for the trip, I've compiled a moe. playlist for the Nano to take along. Here it is:
1. Seat of My Pants
2. Stranger Than Fiction
3. Spine of a Dog
4. St. Augustine
5. Captain America
6. Happy Hour Hero
7. New York City
8. Tambourine
9. Plane Crash
10. Nebraska
11. Not Coming Down
12. Moth
13. Buster
14. Timmy Tucker
15. Brent Black
16. Rebubula (live)
Not a bad way to spend an evening with mom. Dylan is coming soon, and maybe I'll take my mom, myself, and my son (he'll be back by then, and this would be his second time seeing The Dylan).....this could be the start of a great multi-generational rock out for the Bradys!!!!
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
tuesday's child is full of.....
sluggishness? ha ha. nope. Tuesday's child is full of grace, so the ol' poem goes. This is interesting because today is the first day of my attempt to spend a month in my full-time "job" working on my Diss. It's risky and certainly riddled with various aspects of poverty, but it has to be done. My son is with his father, and I need to make the big push NOW. One month. Grace, indeed.
And, the church that I work for is Grace Lutheran. I have a piano student at 3pm and a church meeting at 7pm. In the interim, I have a ton of churchy music stuff to do. Grace, indeed.
Beautiful, sunny, hot, muggy morning today. Definitely a two-potter for the coffee portion of my diet today. I am suh-leeepy!!!
Tally of my holiday weekend, which was awesome:
3 live bands: Jakob Dylan, The Jeremy Hoyle Band (local at the beach), and Ron Hawkins (lead singer of Lowest of the Low, who rock Canada style)
3 baseball games: The Buffalo Bisons, my boyfriend's softball, his friends' hardball
3 items in my salad yesterday grown in my garden: cilantro, Anaheim pepper, green beans
3 days of sleeping in (Sunday needed an alarm)
3 dips in the pool yesterday--it was a scorcher
and so on. A great weekend. "They" say that good things come in 3s. "They" also say that death comes in 3s....hmmmmmm. Grace, indeed.
Gotta go. I'm late for work. Wish me luck!
And, the church that I work for is Grace Lutheran. I have a piano student at 3pm and a church meeting at 7pm. In the interim, I have a ton of churchy music stuff to do. Grace, indeed.
Beautiful, sunny, hot, muggy morning today. Definitely a two-potter for the coffee portion of my diet today. I am suh-leeepy!!!
Tally of my holiday weekend, which was awesome:
3 live bands: Jakob Dylan, The Jeremy Hoyle Band (local at the beach), and Ron Hawkins (lead singer of Lowest of the Low, who rock Canada style)
3 baseball games: The Buffalo Bisons, my boyfriend's softball, his friends' hardball
3 items in my salad yesterday grown in my garden: cilantro, Anaheim pepper, green beans
3 days of sleeping in (Sunday needed an alarm)
3 dips in the pool yesterday--it was a scorcher
and so on. A great weekend. "They" say that good things come in 3s. "They" also say that death comes in 3s....hmmmmmm. Grace, indeed.
Gotta go. I'm late for work. Wish me luck!
Thursday, July 3, 2008
"it's been a while...."
I can't say "it's been a while" without then singing it the way Aaron Lewis does in his Staind song. "It's been a whiiiiile..." Either way, it's been a wonderful and full and crazy week since my pool bash. My son is with his dad having fun out West, and I am getting ready to enjoy the long holiday weekend, which I'm extending until Tuesday. Then it's Diss Diss Diss for the month.
A tally of the pool party events:
88 degrees in the pool
22 kids
18 adults
1 very large bounce house,
1 puke in the pool
1 toilet overflow
3 cannonball contests
3 pregnant women (all having girls)
85 empty beverage bottles (alcoholic, yeee-haaa!!)
countless laughs and merriment
It was awesome.
It has been raining uncontrollably throughout the past week, including today. But, there is sun on the horizon for the weekend and I'm hitting the beach. Although Buffalo sits on Lake Erie and the Niagara River, the city's development team has failed to do SOMETHING with an area downtown loosely termed "the Waterfront." It's rather pathetic, and the subject of passionate deriding of the city's governmental/civic foresight. So, the best beaches are in towns heading West on the ol' I-90 or Rte. 5/20 to either Mickey Rats, Castaways, or Sunset Bay. BEAUTIFUL beaches (although swimming in Lake Erie usually makes me a bit skittish and I stay close to the bar most of the time). But, a weekend at the beach and staying at a friend's beach house sounds pretty damn great to me. Care to join???
A tally of the pool party events:
88 degrees in the pool
22 kids
18 adults
1 very large bounce house,
1 puke in the pool
1 toilet overflow
3 cannonball contests
3 pregnant women (all having girls)
85 empty beverage bottles (alcoholic, yeee-haaa!!)
countless laughs and merriment
It was awesome.
It has been raining uncontrollably throughout the past week, including today. But, there is sun on the horizon for the weekend and I'm hitting the beach. Although Buffalo sits on Lake Erie and the Niagara River, the city's development team has failed to do SOMETHING with an area downtown loosely termed "the Waterfront." It's rather pathetic, and the subject of passionate deriding of the city's governmental/civic foresight. So, the best beaches are in towns heading West on the ol' I-90 or Rte. 5/20 to either Mickey Rats, Castaways, or Sunset Bay. BEAUTIFUL beaches (although swimming in Lake Erie usually makes me a bit skittish and I stay close to the bar most of the time). But, a weekend at the beach and staying at a friend's beach house sounds pretty damn great to me. Care to join???
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