Kelly In Catty

Modern Manger

2010-04-29T11:41:00.000-07:00

Musical Advice

2010-03-11T08:24:00.000-08:00

A few years ago, I met Rachel Zylstra at a film conference at Calvin College. One night the men at the conference got together to go bowling, which left us ladies free to hit the town on our own. We were joined by another new friend, Donna. We all seemed to hit it off right away.

We talked for hours as old friends will do - except we were new friends... so the conversation was full of "get to know you" questions, interesting explanations, and many many new stories of our lives in our three home states, our families, our jobs, and our hopes for the future. We were interested, we were funny, and we were totally enjoying our girls' night.

At one point, a man at the next table stood up. He'd been sitting there for awhile, and was alone. He walked to our table and placed a note, scribbled on a napkin in the middle of the table. He muttered something like "Excuse me, sorry-to-bother-you..." and walked out.

The funny thing? The note wasn't for ONE of us - it was for ALL of us. He apologized for eavesdropping, but said our conversation was both enlightening and entertaining, and thanked us for the "company." He mentioned he was a nurse - and if we had any medical questions, we could always call him. He left us his number.

None of us kept the note... and certainly never contacted him, so we'll never know if he was just being sweet, or was a crazed lunatic.... All I have to say was that he was right - the conversation WAS both enlightening and entertaining... and I'm really glad I had the evening to get to know Rachel and Donna.

ANYWAY - all this to say, sometime after the conference, Rachel moved to NYC to begin her musical career. She's a remarkable pianist whose playing style reminds me of Tori Amos'. Her music is well-crafted, art-house fare... In her, I see an original. She's not following trend, and she's a sound-alike to no one I can think of. However, her songwriting style elicits a pinch of the Mercury (Freddie that is), as well as those clever singer/songwriters I love - like Jonatha Brooke, Jewel, Paula Cole... You know the stuff. Good, honest, fun...

Rachel is doing a new thing - which I applaud her for - A musical advice column - hosted on blogger... You can find her here. You owe it to yourselves to give her a listen. She's not only remarkably creative, but pretty insightful!

For example, to an unemployed woman who wants to know if it's okay that she tell others the truth of her current status as jobless/homeless and in need of a job, Rachel sings:

"You gotta take this full-on; honesty can be fun. Here’s your script:
“I’m unemployed - aka on the ready
to be your friend or colleague or your girlfriend going steady -
keeping real, keeping gracious with my peops and my folks as I camp out at their places
and I laugh at all their jokes.
Yeah boy, I’m homeless, living on a bum flux,
riding on a need wave – surfing for my own house.
In the steady meantime, I possess a width of time.
I’m overqualified; I can make your sentence rhyme –"

(KELLINCATTY's ASIDE: She sang "BUM FLUX!!!!" If I ever quit my band, I'm going to find a new one and name it BUM FLUX!)

Here she is on YOUTUBE: doling out fashion advice:

So fun. Check her out. Ask her a question - She'll tell you no lies.

And Rach? Can I produce your music videos?

Photo Inspiration

2010-03-10T13:45:00.000-08:00

I've been on a quest for inspiration lately, so a friend of mine and I started a photo inspiration site... you can find it on Facebook - type "PhotoPhotoPhoto: Inspiration for Shutterbugs" in the search bar - and you can join us - post, comment, and have fun.

My faves are the purple mask and the little perfume bottle & quarter... both shot in my house with no special lighting (save a bit of tin foil wrapped around a cereal box to give a little highlight to the perfume bottle). I did mess with the mask in photoshop - the original background color was orange.

VICTORY!

2010-03-08T09:08:00.000-08:00

A few months ago, I had a scuffle with a company called PEEL, INC. Today, out of curiosity, I looked them up - The Chicago Better Business Bureau reports this:

Government Actions

On February 17, 2010 IL Attorney General Lisa Madigan filed a lawsuit in Cook County Circuit Court against Peel, Inc., and its President Brian Dale. The company sells products online at dozens of Web sites, including seattlecoffeedirect.com, metroroasters.com, posterpass.com and shopdani.com.

The company markets its products using "free trial" offers and requires consumers to provide their billing information purportedly to cover shipping and handling fees for the supposedly free merchandise. However, within days of signing up for a free trial, consumers begin receiving unauthorized charges ranging from $19.99 to $49.99 on their credit cards.

Further, Madigan's complaint alleges that if consumers are able to reach Peel's customer service, the company allegedly promises to stop charging consumers but fails to do so. Consumers continue to receive unauthorized charges on their credit cards. Madigan's Consumer Fraud Bureau and the Better Business Bureau have received more than 2,300 complaints against Peel and its affiliated Web sites.

Madigan's suit alleges the defendants violated the Illinois Consumer Fraud and Deceptive Business Practices Act by placing unauthorized charges on consumers' credit card bills. The suit seeks a permanent injunction barring the defendants from doing business in Illinois, restitution for consumers, civil penalties of $50,000 for violating the Consumer Fraud Act, and an additional $50,000 for each violation committed with the intent to defraud.
_____________________

I'd like to think I had a hand in taking these horses'patooies down! Shame on you Brian Dale. You deserve to be making license plates in jail.

I'm still a dope for falling for these losers - but you won't find me falling for this crap again.

Saving Face(book)

2010-03-08T05:27:00.000-08:00

I'm such an idiot.

The other day I posted a new status on Facebook. It went something like this (I've since deleted - so forgive the paraphrase) - "Kellincatty wonders what Sarah Palin wants to be when she grows up. Standup? Jay Leno, I never took you for an enabler."

Big mistake, but since I'm unpacking and unloading right now, let me explain a few things.

I'm not a fan of Palin... but not for the reasons you may be thinking. Where some people see her as a champion of conservative values, I just see her as a big ego with legs... I see her as striving to be... as opposed to just being. To me, she's the Bree Hodge of politics, desperately seeking to appear perfect when she's as flawed as the rest of us... To me, that's sad.

In addition, she seems to want to be all things to all people: politician, leader, supermom, hot wife, champion of traditional values, author, star interviewee, keynote speaker, commentator, sports analyst, storyteller, Republican pinup girl, Presidential material, hero of Alaska, FOX sweetheart and now standup comedian? Too many hats for me!

Now I realize that the whole pantheon of politicians very likely have the same mythic self image... but what I can't understand is this Svengali-like hold she seems to have on certain people. But maybe it's just too simple: My husband shrugs, "She's pretty good lookin' Kell..."

Ok - so now, do you guys understand the issue I have with her? I just view her antics as desperate unprofessionalism. I don't think she's necessarily unintelligent (although she has not a shred of talent in extemporaneous public speaking). I don't hate that she has family values (although I didn't personally take offense to the episode of Family Guy where Chris falls for a Down's Syndrome girl). I don't care that she wrote on her hand. I think it's great that she's making enough money to send her kids to college. Honest... I just wish she'd stick to what she's good at.

It doesn't matter that I'm not exactly sure what that is.

However, when I wrote that status on Facebook, I was accused of being anti-values... sort of. Let me say I felt like I was accused of all this and more.

At one point, someone admitted that Palin may not be presidential material, but might make a good cabinet member (meanwhile, Kellincatty thinks - "What, How?") Then I purport that perhaps the commenter has a crush on her. (I know, mean, right?) Commenter then says that no one reads de Toqueville anymore... Or the Federalist papers - so we no longer understand the values on which this nation was built.

Because I didn't see what this had to do with my point, I just started poking fun. I posted this little de Toqueville gem, which succinctly details my feelings for Mrs. Palin: "As one digs deeper into the national character of the Americans, one sees that they have sought the value of everything in this world only in the answer to this single question: how much money will it bring in?"

I also mentioned that we don't see Ann Coulter running for office...

To make a long story short, this elicited a slew of comments (and another de Toqueville point which leads me to belive you can apply his words to anything you believe...) - not just from my accusatory friend... everyone was getting in on the action - even my mother. Finally, I deleted the thread. Enough is enough.

Know what the weirdest part? I wasn't mad about the run-amok-comments about Palin. I was angry because I felt like my accusatory Facebook friend wasn't hearing me... He just wanted to get his digs in - about how he hates our president and the "Chi-town thugs" (his words) who sit in the White House.

I never intended to get into the litany of her values and politics. I just commented on Palin's behavior. And the more I failed to make my point clear, the more badly I behaved... and for that I need to apologize.

I really should know better. Where I love a good fight, I've gotta either start directing my communications in a more positive way - I should just save face(book) and politely refuse to enter the fray.

The worst part? I now have to give Sarah Palin one more friggin' hat - counselor.

Drive Me Crazy

2010-03-02T20:01:00.000-08:00

I was driving my nephew home after he spent the weekend at my house. He is one of those 13-year olds who will never agree with anyone - because he desperately needs and wants to feel smart - perhaps even superior:

Nephew: Women can't drive. They're terrible drivers.
Kellincatty: I'm driving now - Do yo feel unsafe? I mean, that's a pretty broad statement you're making...
Nephew: It's true.
Kellincatty: How can you say that? I mean, you're making a very broad statement.
Nephew: No...
Kellincatty: Know who the worst driver I've ever come across is? The one I refuse to ever get in a car with when he's driving?
Nephew: Who?
Kellincatty: Your father. He's a guy. Not a girl.

It's true. The last time I got in the car with my ridiculous former brother-in-law, I honestly thought I was going to die. He wouldn't pay attention. Five seconds after I gave a "turn right here" direction, he'd continue going straight. If I said 'Take the next exit,' he'd keep going... It was miserable, and I'm tired of it. The next time I had to transport myself and him, I told him I was driving... He kept saying, 'I can drive....'

It just wasn't true.

This week, I was told I couldn't drive a transport van (my van, mind you) to pick up some friends at the airport, because someone "would feel safer if it was a guy."

What?

Then came the post script: But can we still use your van?

Granted, the one who would feel safer if a man drove to the airport backpedalled a little and said "Hey - I was just thinking that a woman driving to JFK at night wouldn't be as safe as a man driving to JFK at night..." (But can I still use your van)

Hey - for all you toads out there, I just want you to know that I haven't had (knock on wood) a vehicular accident in well over 20 years... I've caused no incidents, I've created no problems, I don't drive drunk... My insurance is really inexpensive because 1) I've taken good enough care of my car that I've had it for over 10 years... and 2) because my driving record is really really good.

And for you scoffers who want to note the crack in my bumper, feed on this: My husband borrowed the car - and backed into a dumpster on his way home one night. I wasn't even in the car - let alone the driver.

You boys with your convoluted ideas? You drive me crazy.... I arrive at "crazy" safely and in one piece... but I'm at crazy nonetheless.

Haiti, Miracles, and Tears for Those We Lost

2010-01-19T12:03:00.000-08:00

It's difficult to believe that it's been 9 years since I've seen Haiti for the last time - at least in person. I spent one week there for three years... photographing a medical clinic - and trying to make sense of a nation that seemed to defy conventional thinking... It's difficult to know what to say, watching the news this past week. Everything I see seems familiar - and worse.

First off, Port Au Prince has never been a glamourous place. It's dirty, it's smelly, it's dangerous... It came to be this way due to something the US did to them - namely, we levied an embargo that shut their export business down... Today, it's dirtier, smellier, and more dangerous due to the natural disaster that forces us to confront our relationship with the nation. Think about it. It's a four hour plane ride from New York City... From take off to landing, I can actually get to Port Au Prince before I could reach Pittsburgh by car. It's full of historical corruption that's left the booming population in poverty we can't comprehend.

I can't seem to do enough... And I can't stop being weepy about what I'm seeing on the news.

This week, I've been able to point people to Haiti - by sharing photos, stories of the people I knew (some of whom didn't make it), singing - and telling people where to donate (here - no admin! It's guaranteed that 100% of your donations will go directly to the Haitians...). So far, over 21K has been raised - and wouldn't it be great to send more?

I guess what I'd like to share with you guys today - is the part that I'm not seeing on the news - is the spirit of the Haitians. When your job at the baseball factory is lost because of international powers you can't control - when you can't depend on having any electricity during the day (on a normal day) - you can't rely on local government to keep you safe, transport you to medical care, or provide basic services like sewage control - when your diet consists of meat covered in flies and dirt - and your stomach can withstand just about anything (because far richer people contract dysentery far more easily than any Hatian I've met) - and you just have nothing... there remains a spirit.

The Haitians - at least those I met through my medical missions - have such faith, hope, and spirit of community, the really taught me something of joy. They spend a lot of time together. Fathers carried their little girls to clinics, church and school... towns self-police, looking after each other's welfare... They protect each other... They maintain their dignity each day. You'll never see a Haitian in church without their Sunday best - washed, bleached, and ironed... They sing with their souls on fire - with the hope they have in eternal life... They're amazing.

Anyway, let's take a look at a few photos - in hopes that you'll see what I've witnessed.

This is Celem on the left. I've never been happier to find out that anyone was still alive! His home is on the bank of a "Creek," an open sewer full of trash, poop, and feral animals... Several years ago, members of the mission team I worked with feared that a hurricane would come and wash his cement block home into the sewer... An engineer from Virginia figured out and constructed a retaining wall that anchored far enough into the ground to keep Celem and his family safe from the rains.

That engineer knew his stuff. The same retaining wall saved Celem and his family - who were unhurt by the earthquake. I'm confident that he will be able to assume the work of leading the church, school and community (their pastor, Bienne L'Amarique, was killed in the quake... More on that in a minute)

Here are some random kids looking over the wall that enclosed L'Eglese Siloe Baptiste - the church that hosted our medical clinics. Most of the walls remained in tact after the quake, and provide a safe haven, triage center, and meeting place for the Haitians who can't find their families, have lost their homes, and need care.

The following are photos from a mortgage burning party - which marked the members of Siloe Baptiste as the owners of property... a rare thing for the lower and middle classes of the island!

I'll post more later... Just thinking out loud - and praying for the people of Haiti.

Paint Me An Answer

2010-01-11T20:15:00.000-08:00

My parents came over to visit today. It wasn't a social call. My father needed to pick a few things up. During the visit, he mentioned he was going over to my sister Gwen's house to help her finish painting her hall. I instantly remembered that she and I had talked about this... I had 2/3 can of khaki colored paint that I said she could have for the hall... So I asked my father, "She didn't buy paint did she? I told her she could have the leftover stuff from my living room..."

The rest of the conversation went like this:

Dad: Well, I was going to take a cup of her leftover dark salmon - and a cup of her leftover Shrek Green to make brown, then I was going to add white till it was the right shade of tan...

Kelly: Um, do you want my paint or don't you?

Dad: Uh - Yeah.

Recipe for a Category (5) Sauce!!!!

2010-01-11T15:29:00.000-08:00

I found this on a friend's website - in the "RECIPE" section. It made me laugh, so I thought I'd share it! Thanks John and Karen!

Apache's famous Skunk Bath Formula
By John and Karen

Description:
Helpful with desperate strong odors.

Ingredients:
1 liter of Peroxide
1/2 box (8 oz) of baking soda
1-2 tbs. of citrus smelling dish detergent
water
Febreeze spray
Directions:
mix peroxide, baking soda and dish detergent in bucket with warm water. Sponge on Apache until completely soaked. Allow to soak for at least one hour. Rinse and shampoo as normal.
For a final "finish". Apply febreeze spray to dry, shampoo'ed and conditioned coat and allow re-entry into residence.

Prep Time: 10 minutes Cook Time: 60 minutes

Category: Sauces

Servings: 1

UnPeeling my Stupidity

2009-12-31T05:30:00.000-08:00

My husband is a sweet soul... and amongst all his great qualities are kindness, humor, and the ability to overlook faults in those he loves. These are great things... However, the same set of qualities can lead to overlooking faults in many things - say TV infomercials. Dave will see something - like a cordless vac - or clothes steamer - or dog wee wee pad - and say "LET'S ORDER THAT!!!!" I've told him in no uncertain terms that the products you order on TV are rarely as good as the informercial suggests... I"ll then look up a review of the product online - and show it to Dave... His eyes will widen - then sadden - and we'll move on with our lives.

This really isn't a story about him. It's a story about how careful I am when ordering any products - and how stupid I was when, in a moment of weakness, I ordered tea from a company called TEA FRANCAIS. (I'll post the link later, but for the moment, I need you to pay attention to me... Not to the link.

The promise was that I would get 4 packages of the most delectable tea, and would be billed on a subscription basis. Once/month, I would receive another package, and be billed something like forty bucks. My plan was to get the tea and then cancel the subscription because it would take me a long time to go through four packages of tea. I've done this successfully with companies like Gevalia. I was able to change my order to a package every three months... I could cancel at any time - which eventually I did - but always liked their product.

So here's what happened... Here's how I was duped, and here's what I did (that I should have done in the first place...)

I got the four packages of tea. Then, a week later, I got another four packages of tea. I was happy to pay the 40 bucks for it - but called to cancel the subscription immediately. It worked... However, in a few months, I started getting abbreviated packages of tea - all of which I refused. After each one, I customer support line to cancel. If I could GET customer support, they said they would refund my money immediately upon receiving the shipment back. If you're curious about what was in the package, here goes: I received one bag of tea and a cheap tin car cup... What was withdrawn from my subscription bank account was $80.00. EIGHTY DOLLARS!

Let me repeat that: EIGHTY DOLLARS! FOR ONE STUPID CUP AND ONE BAG OF TEA (that wasn't delicious at all) THAT I'D CANCELLED MONTHS AGO! And, oddly enough, the charges on my bank statement were coming from some poster company - not a tea company... This freaked me out.

Well, when the second package arrived, I was assured of an inter-company computer glitch, and that it was cancelled, and I would get my money back.

A few days later, a third package arrived.

That was it. I finally did what I should have done months ago. I decided customer service wasn't cutting it - and that I needed to call the main company. I looked up their website. Nothing there regarding any main company - just a customer service phone number. I called it thinking I could ask for the main company office number... No answer.

Then, I looked them up on the Better Business Bureau. I typed "Tea Francais" into the query line -and kept coming up with a company named "Peel, Inc." The website didn't even mention "TEA FRANCAIS," - but it did mention it's generic product line of gourmet coffee, gourmet tea, POSTERS and jewelry. Maybe I found the right thing after all. Then I read the report. To summarize, "Chicago, IL-December 16, 2009 – Peel Inc., an internet distribution company selling a variety of products ranging from coffee to posters, under multiple names and Web site addresses, has received more than 1,360 Better Business Bureau complaints in the past year from 49 states; currently, the company has 897 pending complaints with the Better Business Bureau. These complaints have earned the company an F rating from the BBB.

Consumer complaints to the Better Business Bureau allege undisclosed or unauthorized charges, lack of clearly disclosed shipping and/or membership fees, and deceptive advertising. Consumers further allege receiving multiple orders of merchandise that have not been ordered and/or authorized, and subsequent difficulties obtaining refunds. "

In addition, it detailed all the ways Peel, Inc. steals money - including a list of these "DBA" websites:
www.peel.com
www.ringingcell.com
www.urbanteadirect.com
https://www.worldteadirect.com
www.teafrancais.com
www.worldbeancafe.com
www.especiallyposters.com
https://www.metrocoffeedirect.com/
www.cafesaporito.com
www.vermontroastingco.com
www.relationshipspot.com
www.seattlecoffeedirect.com
www.shopdani.com
www.posterpass.com
www.magazineburst.com
www.publicationsmax.com
www.hollywoodjewelrystore.com
www.homeartsdirect.com
www.perfectlypendants.com
www.hautejewelrydirect.com

I"m listing these so you don't do the same thing I did... All of this info is found verbatim at the Better Business Bureau Chicago website.

A wave of "I'm an idiot who doesn't practice what she preaches" washed over me. I called my husband, I changed my bank account number, and then I did a quick yellowpages.com search for Peel, Inc. in Evanston Illinois. I knew the president of the company's name (again thanks to the BBB) was Brian Dale. Incidentally, his phone number is (847) 424-0954.

So I called him - and of course, got his voice mail. I gave a two-sentence summary of what happened, how I reported my experience to the Better Business Bureau, and this was not the last time he'd be hearing from me, so it would behoove him to return my phone call... and wished him a Merry Christmas.

Within the hour, a representative of the company called, and did her best to get off the phone as quickly as possible. She did cancel my account. To Peel's credit, she did refund the three payments of EIGHTY DOLLARS to me. To Peel's discredit, she was quite rude and unwilling to listen to anything I had to say.

There was no real satisfaction - because outside of their "F" rating (that probably already existed before I called the BBB to complain), I assume that Peel, Inc. will still be allowed to do business... They'll still be allowed to steal from people - and behave in a cowardly, dishonest manner. I'll never be able to get back the time it took to get to the bottom of this, and will have a few hours of updating my account info... In short, this has been nothing but a pain...

... And it's my fault. I didn't do what I told Dave to do from the start. If I had looked up a review before I ordered TEA FRANCAIS (AKA Seattle Coffee, Especially Posters, Vermont Roasting Co, Haute Jewelry, etc...), I would have prevented all this. I would have seen the numbers of complaints - the resolution rate, etc...

I need to publicly apologize to Dave - for not doing what I've asked him to do... I've apologized profusely to him on the phone - and in true form, he was more than understanding - and very forgiving about the whole thing. In fact, he was pretty proud of me for getting our money back...

What a nice guy... to help me unPEEL my stupidity.

Tattoo Me Baby

2009-12-28T13:31:00.000-08:00

My husband has this thing about tattoos: "Why is it you would put something on your body that you wouldn't frame and hang in your bathroom?"

This strikes me funny in several ways... For one, WHY the BATHROOM? Second? Who's to say that someone wouldn't hang their tattoo in their John? (I'm giggling right now - I can't help it.)

Now, don't get me wrong. I support the energy behind my husband's sentiment... I mean, I don't HAVE a tattoo, and even after giving it some serious thought, I don't think I would get one... I mean, my tastes change every day it seems... so what would I get? I mean, I collect armadillos - I even found a cool armadillo tattoo Von Glitschka designed... (see above image)... but I doubt I'd ever actually GET one...

Now I've spent time with tattoo'd people - all of them have impressed me with their commitment to their images... Military eagles, fave musicians, 9/11 remembrances, spiritual icons, and of course the skulls... They each have stories. I actually like those who tattoo their necks, heads and faces. I think they're letting us know they'd like to talk about their stories... You can't fault a guy for that.

For me though? What is it I'd want to advertise? Maybe I could slap the face of Bruce Cockburn on my shoulder... my Gibson on my thigh... a portraits of my husband and dog on my belly... maybe a banjo on my heart (HI DAVE!)... the original 1857 deed to my house on my back... a little ring neck snake around my ankle... an Oscar award on my toe... A C.S. Lewis quote on my lower back...

Wait... Maybe I DO want one - or a dozen.

Just kidding. I'll just frame all these images and hang 'em in the bathroom.

Why Photographing Babies Is So Difficult

2009-12-18T20:45:00.001-08:00

I was trying to take Christmas Photos of my niece this evening - and where fun, I can only tell you that it's a lot of work! Even with my sister and husband helping, it's difficult to hold the attention of an infant for more than a split second... To boot, every now and then, my husband would chime in, "Kelly, you missed that - you need to be ready!"

First off, Let me tell you, I may not have been ready, but he kept getting into the shot!

All kidding aside, he was very helpful (way to go honey!), but you can't always make babies do what you need them to. Check out these facial expressions and tell me honestly if you would want your Christmas cards to look like this:

Or this:

Maybe certain Christmas Greetings warrant that kind of expression - like this little "If Looks Could Kill" number - shouldn't every bad babysitter, doc who gives bad diagnoses, or pain-inducing dentist receive this card?

Then, my niece started to wiggle - a lot... She'd get distracted, and begin to slink away...

Going, going GONE!

What was interesting was my dog, Eb. Whenever my niece got close, he hightailed it out of her way... If you're humming the Beatles "I Don't Know Why You Say Goodbye, I Say Hello" right now, you aren't the only one!

Incidentally, here's another shot of Eb walking around the corner - looking very cautious to say the least!

Sometimes, the problem was depth perception...

And the wiggling... The child is a bowl of potential and kinetic energy all rolled into one cute - but fast package!

Sometimes, she just got distracted...

For this shoot, we purchased two feather boas we wanted to return (Come on - you'd do it too!) so there was the ever-present danger of the tag getting in the shot:

Then she'd blink:

Or get sleepy:

To make the baby sit in one spot, I had my sister lie on the floor. We covered her up with a Christmas tablecloth... But she kept making cameos in the shots!

Sometimes, the baby would just do an about face:

Eventually, I shot a few that I think could actually make a cool Christmas Card - Which one would you use?

I'm Back - Trying, at Least

2009-12-18T04:09:00.000-08:00

I thought it might be fun to return to blogging - now that I've likely lost all my readership (all four of you). Maybe it's time to tell my family I've been doing this since 2004, huh?

Well, the newly minted Kelly, woman of leisure, has been doing a lot lately - One, I've already decorated my house for Christmas. All the needles are falling off my tree, Dave and I have broken a TON of glass ornaments (you know - the ones that I can't help buying because they're glass and sooooo pretty) - and I've already baked cookies that I fear will go stale before Christmas (so we're eating them). Besides, as you can see from the photo, my cookies - made solely by Dave and me - look like they were made by my infant niece.

I'm READY.

Also, Lately, I've discovered where socks go to die... I didn't figure this out until I cleaned my sock drawer - and threw about six dozen unmatched socks away. As soon as the trash went out, I discovered about 7 socks behind the dryer, three in my closet, under shoes, one firmly lodged in a boot I hadn't worn for a year, another dozen behind a chair, several static-clinging to clothes I hadn't worn in awhile, and three on that chair in my bedroom... The one we never sit on... because we keep clothes there...

Oh how I wish I was one of those "CLEAN" people. Think of all the money I'd save...

To catch you all up on the rest of my life... My nephew is returning today from Basic Training. He's spent the fall and early winter at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, learning to be an MP. I'm so proud of him - I can't even tell you. For those of you who remember, he's had a tough time - offspring of a ridiculous former brother-in-law, brother of Jason... and the list goes on. He's made me downright teary lately. For instance, he enlisted in this time of war because he wanted to pay for college on his own terms. He wants to be a cop - so he can help children who had the misforune of growing up with people like my ridiculous former brother-in-law.

A couple of years ago, he discovered martial arts - and I think it's saved his life. It was the first time I've ever seen him be passionate about anything (save making his brother, TJ's life miserable). After a belt test, we stood in the parking lot, discussing how cool the belt test was, and the sensei walked out of the building... "Hey, Ian! You did great tonight! I'm really proud of you!"

I can't describe what changed about Ian's face - but it sort of widened and melted at the same time. He looked right at the sensei's eyes and said, "Thank you sir!"

I'm sure I hadn't seen him look another male right in the eye - EVER. He was so shy... Anyway, I don't know if I'm communicating properly, but it made me downright weepy. Perhaps you just had to be there.

Anyway, he's now forging his life on his own terms. He's the apple of my father's veteran eye (go Air Force!) - and is coming home today for Christmas... I can't wait.

He's not the only arrival from the Midwest... Other friends are coming to hang out - Their parents live close to me, so they're crashing at my place (I'll let you draw your own conclusions there)... So we're throwing some parties with old friends - and current family. More on that later.

SO - Merry Christmas to you - Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, whatever it is you celebrate (Sorry - I'm just not into wishing you a generic Happy Holiday - it's so gauche...)

MORE LATER! WITH PHOTOS!

IN!

2009-03-31T09:35:00.000-07:00

I've been wretched at posting lately - because I haven't been inspired to write at all - which is why I need to become more disciplined to write...

I'm pathetic... But I took these 2 pics this AM - and thought you might enjoy them. They're for a website - but you get to see them first!

Another Album Cover

2009-03-01T11:25:00.000-08:00

My band is in the process of thinking about doing more recording... So when I found this little game on Facebook, I couldn't help but make one to post. I had so much fun doing it, I decided to make another album to post here: Feel free to make your own - but please make sure to tell me about it - so I can see what you came up with. Here's how to do it:

HOW TO PLAY:

1 - Go to "wikipedia." Hit “random... Read More... Read More”
or click http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random
The first random wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.

2 - Go to "Random quotations"
or click http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3
The last four or five words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album.

3 - Go to flickr and click on “explore the last seven days”
or click http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days
Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

4 - Use photoshop or similar to put it all together.

5 - Post it to FB with this text in the "caption" and TAG the friends you want to join in. (you can untag yourself if you don't want this photo up)

Lost in Translation

2009-02-15T17:34:00.000-08:00

I was late for church this morning... Where my father taught me that "on time" means 30 minutes early, I just couldn't get it together. I was hesitant to leave the house (because Ebby is under the weather this week - which means for the last 2 days, I'm a carpet cleaner... a frequent carpet cleaner), but I had to deliver some food (my church does a weekly dinner for local homeless folks - and it was my turn to cook.) All this to say, I was carrying a crock pot full of meatballs, a few bags of bread and dessert, so I needed a parking spot somewhere close to the building. Because I was late, every spot was filled... which left me driving around the block for awhile... Which made me even more late.

This is a long explanation for why I needed a good laugh this AM. My church is located downtown - within a few miles of several colleges, small towns, and 3 medium sized cities. This means we have a culturally diverse mix of people. In addition, our church occasionally runs a joint service with a Latino congregation. When this happens, the speaker uses a translator.

Enter Mickey.

Mickey is a sassy Latina who I love... Particularly when she translates. If the pastor walks to the right, Mickey walks to the right. If the pastor does a deep knee bend, Mickey does a deep knee bend. If the pastor raises an arm, so does Mickey. She does this to deliver the same energy as her English-speaking partner in oration. I've seen a lot of translators - but to be honest, none of them put the same chutzpah into their work. Mickey is not only appreciated by her Latino audience, but has always been entertaining to me.

Today, a guest speaker named Francois visited my church. I've heard this guy before - and he's great - but I've never seen him work with a translator. I could tell he was having a good time when the following happened. (forgive my mostly-forgotten Spanish)

Francois: (said something about direction)
Mickey: (Translated algo acerca de la dirección)
Francois: It's like a GPS
Mickey: Es como una GPS
Francois: You know?
Mickey: Sabes?
Francois: There's something I've always wondered about GPS'
Mickey: Hay algo Siempre me he preguntado acerca de GPS'
Francois: Why do they all have a woman's voice? They're never a man's voice!
Mickey:(in Perfect English) THAT'S BECAUSE MEN NEVER STOP AND ASK FOR DIRECTIONS!!!!!

eB My Valentine

2009-02-14T06:29:00.000-08:00

Here's Ebby - Who got a kiss from another woman named Kelly this morning...

Pharyngitis

2009-02-13T03:20:00.000-08:00

I've had the WORST sore throat over the past couple of days. I finally called my doc's office yesterday. Now, when I call the doctor's office, I have to talk to a nurse practitioner first. We talk about the symptoms, and the nurse then tells me whether to come in or now.

It used to make me angry when the nurse suggested I had a virus, and there was probably nothing she could do - so I should wait a few days. I mean... Seriously... How dare a non-doctor suggest that 1) she knows how I feel and 2) she knows what I have... On one occasion, when I was at my snottiest - both literally and figuratively, the nurse said it sounded viral... and there wouldn't be any point in coming in. I suggested that only a doctor and a sick person should make that call and I would appreciate it if she stopped playing doctor and made the appointment. As it turned out, I had a virus. There was nothing that could be done, and as a result of my arrogance, I wasted my time, my doc's time - and had to pay an unnecessary co-pay.

If I could go back and talk to that poor nurse, I'd apologize profusely.

Fast forward to yesterday - where you'll see, I treat the nurses more respectfully.

NURSE: Hello, Kelly. This is Joel. What's going on?
KELLY: I just want to know if I should come in or not - I have a sore throat - and was wondering what you've noticed floating around... and if it's just a virus - or something I need to be seen for.
NURSE: Kelly, there's a million things floating around. We shouldn't take any chances. It sounds like you might have strep... so when can you come in?

So I go in, thinking the worse - that I might have a virus that no one can do anything about... but lo and behold - I have pharyngitis... and have never felt more excited to be given antibiotics... (I have a gig tonight - and if I can possibly sing, I need to - it's a new place... The pay doesn't suck... blahblahblah). I told the doc that I was never so happy to have an infection in my life, and asked if he'd prescribe a Z-pack (a 5-dose antibiotic). He readily agreed, and I was in-and-out within about 15 minutes.

I left the doctor's office in such a good mood... Just with the anticipation of feeling better. (not to mention that I didn't embarrass myself by being rude to the nurse...) So Here's to a good gig tonight.

Adam Brodsky and President Dreamcicle

2009-02-10T12:23:00.000-08:00

I got this email from Adam Brodsky, Philadelphia Folk singer. He's one quick-witted son of a so and so... who I believe still holds the record for fifty gigs in fifty states in fifty days.

Anyway, he sent this email that's too funny not to share. Happy Valentines' Day from Adam Brodsky... and me. Oh - and if you're not one for slightly coarse language, you have my permission to simply move to another blog.

Saturday, February 14th, 2009 8:00
Philadelphia, PA
An Evening of Love Songs
Beautiful Mount Airy
Mt. Airy, Philadelphia, is alls ya get fer now Philadelphia, PA Usa

Single? Married? Neither? Both?

Come to an evening of love songs with Adam Brodsky. Saturday February 14th. 2009. I'll be dusting off the old bitter chestnuts as well as showing you my soft side. either way, you're bound to leave the hizzy richer for the experience. plus, i hardly ever strum this thing anymore, much like nookie itself, when, an opportunity avails, you should carpe the f*** out of that diem.

Note: the show is a house concert in a respectable living room, which is IMO the best way both to give, and to receive a show, and what is VD about, if not, giving and (hopefully) receiving?

if'fn you wanna come out, you should go here for more info http://www.xfsmusic.org/xcalendar.asp or you can email the fine folks at the XFS at xfsinfo@xfsmusic.org

Howdy dorkateers.

Member me?

Quick peek beyond the confines of my spider hole, just long enough to spew some bitter lovelornery ornariaty*, Basically I’m stepping outside to see if the weather is in fact as hope filled as President Dreamsicle says it is...although I didn't particularly like getting yelled at last night...I get it, it sucks to live in Elkhart, IN, you didn't need to interrupt my shows to tell me that. I’ve been there. (That’s where the RV hall of fame is; ask me I have pictures of weird old rigs.)

Ok, so capitalism is about to collapse, your job is hanging by a thread and your 401K has been sliced in half (making it a 200.5E HA!) But I’m here to tell you that that doesn't mean you're off the hook for VD, cause lets face it, F***ing is just about the only thing you can afford to do these days. It's free**, and it will (hopefully) provide at least 8-10 seconds where you won't be gut-churning about how you're gonna pay them bills. So now is not the time to skimp on flowers, and chocolates and merrywidows and handcuffs and astroglide…and most importantly, folk music.

Which brings me to my next salient point.

As you know, there are two kinds of people in the world, them what gots a somebody to squeeze and love, and them what don't. And as we see Washington hastily regress back from Kumbayaton into, well, Washington, It is with great pride that announce my own version of Hermaphroditary***, meaning I am gonna play a show Saturday that has something for everybody, so quite simply, everybody should come.

lets break it down this way, If I was clever enough, and knew more about HTML I’d lay this out like one of those "choose your own adventure" novels, but at the end you'd all end up in a mount airy living room, amongst good people, listing to some dork strum his f***ing heart out.

But, as evidenced by the previous paragraphs (virgin conjugations aside) I'm not clever enough, so try to stay with my as I kick it old school (liniearlyish).

The simplest is, if you are just like me: A pleasant, yet, creepy single dude, with less and less to offer with each passing year. (Yeah, Toby, I'm talking about you)# You'll see these songs as an harmonious conflagration of disdain, whist, projection, and rationalization. I.e. it's not your fault, its them bitches.

Perhaps you are a couple. You are in love, you've been in love for many a year, you'll most likely stay in love. Here is the reason you should come see me dust off the bitter chestnuts of my 20's.

This gig will remind you that even though sometimes when you look over at your sleeping mate and imagine bashing in their skull with that 13 quart stock pot that they inexplicably bought you two birthdays ago, doing that would only make you single, not happy. And seriously, you don't wanna end up old and alone like that spaz up there with the guitar. Straight up, maybe it will happen during "ballad of a skank ho" or perhaps "blow me" or maybe "you turned on me like mayonnaise in the sun" but you'll feel your sweetie squeeze your arm and lay her warm and tender head upon your shoulder, as if to say. “Thanks for not being that guy.” So come to the show. It will do more to strengthen your relationship than a dozen roses and a penile implant.

Perhaps you're a couple who is no longer in love, but right now, moving out, is not an option. Again, like a train wreck, you'll look at me and say, there but for the grace of my sweetie, go I. and the embers of love will congeal into a fiery phoenix of rebirth.

Maybe you're a single lady, who has, to date, perceived her soulmate search as, at best a fruitless endeavor and at worst, an unmitigated freakshow. You have cast off many seemingly flawed young stallions. By the end of the show, you'll be drunk dialing at least two of your exes and leaving messages like "y'know, I think I was a little too critical, I mean it's not like you ever wrote a song about what a c*** I was and then sang it to all my friends while staring directly into my eyes. And another thing, thanks for showering so regularly...Ok, anyway, I was just thinking of you tonight, I hope yer doing well...if you ever want to...um..ok...well I thought maybe we could...um...anyway, hi. Um, I gotta go, he hates it when people make calls during his show"

Seriously, tonight I’m gonna party like it's 1999, Sure I’ll sing the occasional political screed. "Barrack me Obamadaus" "uncivil rights" "The Ballad of John McCain" and I might even dip into the shallow playa of contented love songs for a verse or two, but mostly, it's gonna be and old school night, "Love takes it up the ass" or something.

Or maybe not, as you know I feel that set lists are for the feeble minded, and I’ll just hope the songs come to me in the order that providence would prefer.

But I guarandamntee you that you'll go home happier than when you left your house. Guarandamntee! I will do my part to stimulate your package, Seriously, Nobody comes to a Dork show with a date, and doesn't get laid## It's like taking your girl to see Mask. Any other Eric Stoltz Vehicle and she looks over at you and says "eh." Take her to see Matty Damon, and you're the consolation prize. (Literally a home version of the game) but, I offer so much more.

Anyway, I’ve taken up enough of your valuable time. Go back to work, your job is not as safe as it once was.

If you wanna come to the show, you gots to go here www.xfsmusic.org and get the special instructions. But you people seem smart, I'm sure you'll figure it out.

See you at the show.

*Yes, I just made up two words in the very first sentence...but what can you expect on a day as brillig as this today.

**Well, no it's not

***That’s three

#Though, your presence is kinda mandatory, as it's really comforting to know that if I forget a lyric, you've got my hairy back

##Cept the Dork, but he's on the clock.

We're Due!

2009-02-07T19:41:00.000-08:00

I spent my afternoon at a friend's baby shower... And I know I've written about this before, I'll say it again. I LOVE giving gifts - I'm just not so crazy about going to baby showers... where women are invited to sit together, play silly games - and oooh and aaah for hours as the mom to be unwraps piles of gifts. I'd much rather simply bring the gift and have a cuppa with the momma.

So today, I'm at this very large shower of about 40 women - maybe 50. I'm standing in the back with my friend Laurie, who's a 40-something married woman who never had kids.

So there we are - Laurie and me, the 38-year old married woman who never had kids... chatting away about how many baby showers we've been to.

Then it dawned on us... Laurie and I are going to invite all the moms we know to our no-kid shower... Where we should get gifts to say thanks for the years of gift giving we've done. The invitees could simply bring cash or gift cards... Why? BECAUSE WE'RE DUE!

Paintings in the Office

2009-01-29T17:30:00.000-08:00

I got the opportunity to do some photo-paintings for an office near Philadelphia... Wanna see?

25 Things

2009-01-26T11:32:00.000-08:00

Chris tagged me on Facebook, so I'm answering here, and tagging Tiecen, DF, and anyone else who wants to do this... I think Sarabeth already did... I don't know if Trixie has the time... Krista can if she still reads blogs... HEY - with the way I've been posting lately, it's a miracle anyone reads - but have at it - if you're reading this, consider yourself TAGGED... The task? Write 25 things about yourself:

25 Things
1) I’m so grateful that my husband sort of tolerates me having a dog.
2) I have horrible, impossible skin that I can’t seem to fix (really – if you’re going to start sending me recommendations, I’ve tried it already… Proactive is water… Honest. You can’t help, but thanks for thinking you can.)
3) I sing in a band
4) I’m learning to play harmonica
5) I believe dreams are helpful things that define life issues for me. I can’t say this about every dream, but read on…
6) I know my life is careening out of control if I dream about crashing someone else’s car… I know I’m getting some control back if I dream about crashing (or regaining control) of my own car.
7) One of the greatest things about having a dog is that they don’t mind laying on my cold feet
8) My feet are generally cold.
9) I have a college degree – and think it really helped me, but not in the ways you might think. For example, I think going to college helped my confidence level, helped me learn to ask questions, and expanded my sphere of influence…. But had limited help with me in the workplace.
10) I’m speaking to two college classrooms this year –about the things that college doesn’t necessarily teach you… so in essence, I’m negating my thesis.
11) I keep my cross country skis at a friend’s house, and haven’t used them in years.
12) I love having a dog in the house.
13) I have a random and miscellaneous knowledge of horses, and once gave one a shot of penicillin… It only took me fifteen minutes to actually stick the needle in the horse’s neck… In the meantime, I probably caused unecessary stress on the horse, who likely wondered what the heck I was doing back there….
14) I would like to take piano lessons some day.
15) I collect armadillos. I have no real excuse for it, but I just like them.
16) Sometimes I miss teaching Sunday School.
17) In a perfect world, I would live high in the mountains, and have a horse, a dog, a goat and a burro… Maybe two of each.
18) My secret, as-of-yet-unrealized ambition is to be an interior decorator.
19) I once accidentally got my sister fired from her job.
20) When I was very young, I almost set a building on fire… Kids, take a lesson from me… Threadbare piano benches ignite very, very quickly.
21) I told my husband that if Willem Dafoe comes to the door and asks me to run off with him, I might go… It’s only fair, I’ve “known” Willem longer.
22) Honestly, I’d stay with my husband… Willem who?
23) Last year, I wrote a song that Crayola uses in some of their client meetings.
24) It took me twenty years to tell my mother that I fell out of my brother’s car while he was driving me home. At the time, he warned that if I told Mom, she’d be really mad… at ME!
25) I sometimes write letters to people in my past – to say thanks for _______________. It’s been a very, very fun and rewarding exercise.

No Wonder My Lawn Looks Like This...

2009-01-01T15:21:00.000-08:00

Dog aren't so different from people - as with us, it seems the best things in life are still free - including choice of Toys. The other day - before we got a lot of snow, Dave was out in the yard raking up the fall leaves - when Eb went absolutely crazy. He chased the rake, grabbed the rake, attacked the rake, jumped for the rake... as if it were the most delectable thing to chew on - as if it had been dipped in fox urine (I sincerely hope it hasn't...)

Anyway, Dave had so much fun playing with Eb, that the leaves never got raked up - Don't worry - we'll get to it - In the meantime, enjoy the Ebby photos...

Oh Baby!

2008-12-31T18:55:00.000-08:00

My sister's labor of love - Welcome, beautiful little one!

Celebrity Siblings

2008-12-30T03:36:00.001-08:00

Remember the movie Twins? Where I know Danny DeVito and Arnold Schwarzenegger don't really look alike, I've always thought that a few stars should play together - as siblings - Let me know if you can think of any others...

And yes - I know - this is a vapid post - but it's the end of the year... My sister is in labor in New Jersey - and honestly - this is what I've been thinking about - at least until the baby arrives.

1) Tom Cruise and Jason Schwartzman
2) Jude Law and Daniel Craig
3) Julia Stiles and Kirsten Dunst
4) Jason Bateman and Justine Bateman (just kidding - they don't actually look anything alike!)
5) Alexa Davalos and Angelina Jolie
6) Dana Delany and Sela Ward

Fall Bride

2008-12-22T19:02:00.000-08:00

I haven't posted any wedding photos for awhile - and since I know you guys are DYING to see more, I aim to please... Enjoy!

Honey, Tell Me How You Really Feel

2008-12-21T09:04:00.000-08:00

Dave this morning was watching highlights as the Baltimore Ravens beat the Dallas Cowboys in their last game in Texas Stadium...

Dave: Kelly, Baltimore beating Dallas is like a Christmas present to America!
Kelly: Tell me how you really feel...
Dave: They deserve to lose. Do you know how much Dallas ran the score up in the 60's? Geez! Freakin' North Korea's team! That's what Dallas is. In 1989, they were 1-15. It was beautiful! Beautiful!

Then he got up - and walked to the laundry room.

Dave: My favorite team is whoever plays Dallas.

Complicated... But I'll Tell You Anyway

2008-12-21T01:45:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, my band went into the studio to record a new demo - very exciting, productive and fun. We cranked out three songs in about six hours - which if you think about it is not bad... Two hours per song - that's one hour of playing together, then one hour of adding vocals and mixing... Anyway, as the studio engineer was creating a stereo mix, we apparently had some options as to where things went... Note, Dave wasn't in the control room at the moment:

Studio Engineer: I'm going to put Dave's voice sixty percent to the right.
Kelly: Funny, Dave's really about sixty percent left...
Studio Engineer: Well, as we age, sixty percent left is pretty good!
Kelly: I was talking politics... What were you talking about?

The Exception to "A Rose By Any Other Name..."

2008-12-19T07:50:00.000-08:00

Okay, Walmart… I’m going to do something I’ve never, ever done before – and don’t plan on doing again… I think I’m going to defend you… Last week, you made a “Happy Birthday Adolph Hitler” cake for a kid’s party. The kid is named Adolph Hitler Campbell.

Now, the world media is down on Wal-Mart for doing it…

Back up. I don’t think Wal-Mart is to blame… I think this is a very serious parenting issue going on here… And I think it’s sad that this cute little boy has to pay:

1) What group of kids isn’t going to make fun of this child?
2) What group of adults aren’t going to make assumptions about this child’s morality?
3) Will this child really have to wait till he’s eighteen to change his name to something more suitable for an American child... I don't care if it's a German name - just not THAT German name. Hans would be great, for example.

It’s not Wal-Mart’s job to dictate morality – it’s their job to decorate cakes to make kids’ birthday’s happier… It’s a parent’s job to set the kid up in life – in a way that the child will be as successful as that child could possibly be. They’ve clearly failed – already.

Now, this kid won’t be able to have a normal school experience. Who wants to go to the Prom with Adolph Hitler? Who wants to give Adolph Hitler a passing grade? Who’s going to yell “Red Rover, Red Rover, let Adolph Hitler come over?” Who’s writing Valentines to Adolph Hitler? When these kids talk about World War II, who’s NOT throwing spitballs at Adolph Hitler? Who’s going to develop a crush on Adolph Hitler? Who will want to grant Adolph Hitler a credit card? Who’s hiring Adolph Hitler?

It’s unfair that this child will never be able to introduce himself to anyone without getting a double take.

What’s so painfully missing in these news stories I’m seeing is some kind of public outcry about parents who would be so cruel to their child. Sheesh.

I grew up with a girl who’s little brother was always called Marty in the house. When Marty started school, his mother insisted that he be called Ted instead… Why? Because “Farty Marty” is way too tempting for a kindergartener.

This child deserves a birthday cake. It’s not his fault his parents are idiots.

In addition, this child needs a government bailout – one that will change his name for free… Even if that name change is Inspektor Pilot.

A Surprising Waste of Time

2008-12-18T10:28:00.000-08:00

I'm neither condoning nor endorsing this, but I'm pretty shocked by the alacrity it took some bleary-eyed and bitter programmer to get this on the web... Ay Caramba.

What's My Line?

2008-12-18T04:21:00.001-08:00

Yesterday, I was in line at a store. I didn't have a huge purchase, and I ran out on my lunch hour... About 4 people stood in line - and clearly, the lady at bat was having some trouble. The cashier was an older lady, in her 70's, and she was bent over, on the phone, as if she were trying to converse at Beaver Stadium during a bad ref call...

"No. The last number is FOUR. As in ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR... F-O-U-R. Hour - with - an - F-as-in-FRANK...."

Then she did something I've never seen before... She handed the phone and the credit card to the customer. The customer looked more annoyed every second, as did the three in line behind her.

What gets me is that this is CHRISTMAS... The giving of gifts is supposed to be a joyous occasion - one filled with fun, and thoughtfulness and all those good things. Every year, I see lines of people getting angrier and angrier... It might be one thing if the cashier was some kind of moron - but that was clearly not the case... I decided action was the best policy...

I leaned toward the lady in front of me in line and whispered loudly, "I'd give a dollar to know what the heck the person on the other end of the line was saying!"

The whole company laughed... Within a moment, the customer on the phone with the credit card issue handed the receiver back to the cashier, who tried again to make heads or tails of the lady on the other end. In a second, she looked surprised and hung up.

"She hung up and said I had to call back on a better connection..."

The lady at the front of the line explained that she hadn't used the card in a year, so the department store deactivated it.

"Merry Christmas!" I said happily!

Everyone laughed, the lady pulled another card and said, "Use my VISA, please..." And we all got out of there - hopefully a little less miserable...

NOTE: This wasn't my favorite tension-breaking moment... That was reserved for a frenzied postal clerk. I was next in a line full of about ten people, all with huge packages to send... The woman in front of me had a giant ziplock full of pennies, and was taking her sweet time counting...

"This is all I have, except for a twenty."

"I can't make change for a twenty," the postal clerk apologized.

So the change counting continued. Remember Mr. Owl and the Tootsie Pop commercial? Her couting reminded me of him - and beyond... "One. Ta-two-hoo... Threee.... on and on and on...

The entire line was so antsy, and annoyed, I just couldn't help myself. When my turn finally came, I set my package on the desk, looked the clerk in the eye, and said, "Do you have change for a twenty?"

He looked like he was about to explode... His ears actually turned red.

"I'm just kidding!"

Thankfully, he laughed. He could have gone postal.

Thanks CNN, I Needed That

2008-12-16T05:21:00.000-08:00

This morning, Kiran Chetry announced the following on CNN, sometime just after 6 AM. "You may be surprised, but (something like 70%) of women, if faced with either two weeks without sex or two weeks without the internet, believed they'd rather have the internet... While only 30% of men said the same."

I looked at Dave: Honey, would you rather have 2 weeks with sex or two weeks with the internet?"

Dave: It's an unfair question, Kelly. There's not that much on the internet I'm interested in."

And then? Dave couldn't understand why I gave him the hairy eyeball.

Beast of Burden

2008-12-15T18:02:00.000-08:00

I was having a Christmas moment the other night. I'd just been shopping for Yankee Auction gifts for my husband's side of the family. We decided this year - that since there are no little kids floating around any more, that it might make Christmas a little more fun to spice it up with a $20 nutty gift - that well, maybe Uncle Timmy might like... AND - since the kids on Dave's side of the family are getting older, at some point, they can just join us - and our exploding cigars, whoopie cushions, and cans of snakes at the grown up's table.

Anyway, I was kind of excited. I found two cool gifts for the gift exchange - (In case you don't know about the Yankee Auctions, they work like this. Everyone gets a number - the first number chooses a gift and unwraps it. The second number either steals the gift or opens a new one. The game continues until everyone steals whatever it is the cool gift might be - and well, someone ends up with it. I'm hoping Dave's family likes the useful yet unconventional gifts I've chosen. Dave thought they were cool - I can't say what I bought - some of them read this blog - but I can tell you, they're recycled... The gift that, for 20$ or so - keeps on giving.

I like this idea because not only does it inject a little life into the party - but it gives some insight as to what my new(ish) family thinks - and what my brother in law, Tim (who dressed as a convincing Uncle Fester this Halloween - even after his kids are grown up) might come up with... and if I'll ever end up with a remote control helicopter (something I'm dying to own, yet am way too grown up and cheap to purchase for myself). I also like the idea because it sort of returns that sense of wonder we all had as kids - that anticipation of Christmas morning - when the best gifts (the ones tucked into our imaginations) - are - if only for a moment - definitely in those boxes under the tree... I have to say - I'm kind of giddy with the excitement of it - even though I realize I"m probably coming home with a pair of wool socks. I promise I'll like them - but secretly, I'm still holding out for the RC Helicopter.

I was wondering if my side of the family would like to participate as well... so I suggested it to my mother, who likes all of my ideas. She was in. Then it happened...

The thing that ruined my festive Christmas Spirit. My sister called. My sister, savior of the planet, pseudo-vegetarian, Band-wagon hopper... She's got a really good heart - but I have to say on this night - when I was already planning on wrapping up something grand and unexpected for my family - kind of stuck a needle into my holiday spirit...

"Hey Kell! I know what we can do for Christmas this year!"

"Yankee Auction?" I queried.

"No! Let's all donate money and buy a water buffalo for a needy family in an Asian Country!!!!"

"Um."

"Isn't it a great idea?"

"UM. I was really thinking about the Yankee Auction. It'll be fun."

"Who needs more stuff? I have absolutely no need for more stuff. We should all buy the water buffalo."

"Um."

"I already talked to Dan and Karen - They're in - and I'll talk to Jill - I'm sure she'll be in. You and Dave are in, right?"

"So what does the family do with the water buffalo? Do they eat it?"

"No, silly! It's a beast of burden! You're in right?"

Now. Let's be honest here. Totally honest. My holiday spirit fell like a cold frozen turkey at the supermarket after it's been picked up by a three year old who couldn't hold it any longer. I wasn't interested in any water buffalo - because I was really into having some fun with my family...

Then it happened.

My sister became my personal beast of burden.... because in my mind, the family in Asia who needed some water buffalo to carry agricultural goods to market were starring at me... All seventeen of them, including the baby. And they all looked at me as if I was their only hope for a water buffalo. Then the water buffalo rode by on a train in the distance yelling "Hey! This is my stop! That's my family!"

Freakin' Freak.

So I got railroaded - not only by my sister - but the family I don't even know - and now the water buffalo is on my case. Then I felt guilty for wanting to Yankee Auction with my family at all... So long story short, I'm trading in my perfect holiday moment of anticipation. I'm trading in my RC helicopter - and a family is getting a water buffalo.

I know that as soon as I write the check, and the train stops - and the water buffalo meets the family, my personal beast of burden will leave me - pat me on the head and tell me I've done the right thing... and I know it's true - Christmas is a time for giving... and I can't be bitter... so I have but one choice.

I must buy the RC Helicopter - bring it with me on Christmas - and let everyone take turns flying it. Then it'll be a different kind of fun - but fun nonetheless.

Retention Payments

2008-12-12T06:39:00.000-08:00

A Rose by any other name would smell as sweet...

(sigh)

Kellincatty's List of Phrases that Really Tick Me Off

2008-12-10T14:06:00.000-08:00

1) Don't Worry About It
2) Needless to Say
3) No, That Won't Work....
4) Hello. (as opposed to "Hello!")
5) I Know You're Busy But....

And you guys?

EdgyEbby

2008-12-04T08:04:00.000-08:00

I'm beginning to think my dog has a little attitude to him. Today, during morning walk, he got taunted by the Chocolate Lab who lives two doors down... It's a morning ritual. The Lab is fenced in the back yard. He waits for Eb to walk by and barks at him...

For the most part, Eb usually just runs along the fence barking and then keeps going with no incident... Today, however, I don't know what got into him...

He stood two feet from the Lab's fence, turned his back on him, and pooped.

I swear he did it as an insult.

An Open Letter to the Police Officer Who Hit My Car Window Last Night (OR "Not-So-Peaceful Demonstration on Martin Luther King Boulevard")

2008-12-03T09:28:00.000-08:00

Dear Officer,

Last night, I drove past an accident site on Martin Luther King Boulevard. I felt badly for those involved. Because it was dark, I couldn’t tell if anyone was hurt – and could see that your department was on hand, directing traffic and being helpful. You guys were doing a great job in keeping things moving.

That is – Until I came to the second traffic stop. Your police car was blocking oncoming traffic… Behind it, you stood directing traffic – stopping one lane to let the other go – then stopping the other lane to let MY lane go. Seemed pretty cut and dry…

That is – Until you let the car in front of me go – and wanted to stop my car. You did something with your hands, but because your police car was shooting blue light all over and sort of blinding my eyes to your unlit hands, because my windows were shut, and I was listening to Christmas music, I could neither see your hands nor hear you… And yes – I should have opened my window - and should have stuck my head out that window to indicate that I was having an issue understanding my instructions… but I didn’t.

What I did – was inch along, thinking the guy in front of me went, so I was supposed to go too…

That’s when you stormed up to my driver’s side window– and hit it with your blunt-force gloved hand. You hit my car window quite hard, sir – and it was kind of jarring. I unrolled my window to hear you yelling how you said stop – and stop means stop.

I told you that I couldn’t see you because of your car lights - and how they were very bright – and your black, unlit gloves were not seeable… You screamed that this is how people get hurt.

I can see your point… but I’m still angry that you felt that even with my explanation – you continued to yell – not considering that maybe I had a point as well – that I’m not that dumbass who directly defies authority by ignoring his traffic signals issued directly from your authority… It was just that I couldn’t SEE them… And perhaps I’m not the only one… And that this is another way that people get hurt.

Then you yelled at me that I should get out… I have to tell you – that my anger at this point was boiling… and it was only out of respect for your position as police officer that I shut up, shut my window, and left the scene of the accident.

I believe that as a person with a squeaky clean traffic record and non-existent rap sheet, I deserve a little respect too. When I called your supervisor today, I fully admitted I could have done things differently – but felt neither served nor protected by a cop slamming his hand into my window… and screaming at me for something that was very much a misunderstanding. He said he’d talk to you about it. I said to be sure to tell you I’m sorry I pissed you off… but really – I’m somewhat concerned that you had no illumination on your body – no understanding of how soundproof my car was… Honest.

Sincerely,

Kellincatty.

Deja Vu, or Familiar Faces in Unfamililar Places

2008-11-30T10:28:00.000-08:00

I've had a phenomenon throughout my life of meeting people from my past in strange places:

1) When I was in second grade (in Pennsylvania), my grandmother and I flew to Raleigh, NC, to see an aunt and uncle. While in the airport, I ran into my classmate Hank. He was visiting relatives too.

2) About ten years ago, I ran into a client while changing planes in Chicago O'Hare Airport. I'd been to Peoria, stayed with friends, and had a job interview... When I saw my client (who was one of my favorite clients - one of those who got to be a good friend) - I exclaimed, "Pat!" He exclaimed, "What are you doing here?" I must have paused for just enough of a second before saying, "I was visiting friends!" (Note: I always wondered if this was a lie - at any rate, it wasn't the complete truth. The reason I was there was the job interview - the bonus was that I got to stay with friends.) Pat just smiled - and years later, after both of us were in new jobs, said, "You were at an interview, weren't you?"

3) I was in Chicago on another occasion. This woman approached and called my name... I didn't recognize her until she told me we worked at summer camp together (she was a few years younger than I, but I still felt badly for not recognizing her immediately) Something about seeing familiar faces in unfamiliar places that makes that face seem somewhat unfamiliar...

4) The other day, I was meeting with new clients at my office for the first time. We were waiting for the last member of the group - some guy named Tom. When he walked in, I turned, stood and offered my hand to shake, "Hi! I'm Kelly...." We locked eyes for a minute - and I'm sure freaked the rest of the contents of the conference room became uncomfortable... Tom said "Holy S***!" I fell back into my chair and rolled across the conference room. "I don't believe this! Hi Tom!"

Tom was the older brother of my high school friend, Michelle... If I wasn't at home, I was probably at their house...

Since our last meeting, 20 years ago or so, a lot has happened - a lot -we tried to cram in to to a quick walk to the coffee maker... We jammed in info that his dad had moved, what his sisters were doing, that I got married, and sang in a band - all in a matter of a few seconds... It's not a great way to catch up - but now that he's a client - We'll maybe catch up later...

How weird is that? How people kind of weave in and out of our lives?

A Glorious Waste of Time IV

2008-11-26T07:02:00.001-08:00

Someone sent this to me - and called it the Redneck WII... Since I've posted no glorious wastes of time in months, I thought you'd like it.

November Showers

2008-11-13T17:48:00.000-08:00

I went to my sister's baby shower last weekend - or may I say I attended the first of TWO of my sister's baby showers (I'm throwing the other one at the end of the month - it's a "this side of the family" thing)... I'm going to tell you guys one story from it - and forever and ever more, you will understand why I would be so much happier to just show up, ring the bell, drop the gift and run like hell...

At the end of the shower, the hostess said, "I have one more game! It's called 'Guess The Girth!"

Really?

My sister, aghast and seven months' pregnant, said, "Really?"

"Uh huh!" nodded the host - enthusiastically.

"Um..." grinned my sister, "I think I'd rather not. Yeah. Let's not."

The hostess looked crestfallen, but quickly recovered and said, "Well, ok... then..."

I swore to my sister that when I throw her shower, I will not play such games... But I will serve chocolate in diapers.

VOTEVOTEVOTE!

2008-11-03T03:28:00.000-08:00

I can't wait to go out and exercise my DUTY to go vote - and I hope you're all doing the same...

Yesterday, the pastor of my church - obviously commenting on all the thousands of e-mail arguments flying around the internet - commented that voting is not a moral choice, but an ethical choice... so the idea is that we vote our conscience - and allow everyone else the duty to vote theirs.

I've heard everything - that each candidate might be the antichrist (Puh-leeeze) - to the speculation that Obama isn't really US-born... It's absolutely nuts. Then the one instance where I did get in the fray, all I tried to say is that it's not our job to force OUR outcomes on everyone, it's our job to VOTE... I didn't even state who I'm voting for...

I got an e-mail back where the first line read "I thank you for your email, but I couldn't disagree with you more!" I hadn't even said anything controversial!

Look - I care who I'm voting for - and I'm happy to tell you why should you be interested... but I'm not really going to shove my choice down your throat (truth be told, I think that one candidate will do wonders for OUR economy - and the other will do better in foreign policy - so I've actually sweated this election out more than others) - but I'm not going to try and influence who you vote for. That's the candidate's job.

My job? I'm just going to go and vote. (and I'll probably follow it up with many, many letters to my senator during the next four years.)

Go VOTE! And please feel free to tell me any strange election stories that you've had - like one where someone I know was afraid a mutual friend wasn't going to vote his ticket. He said, "Then maybe you just shouldn't vote!" Shame on him!

How Bout Some PIE?

2008-10-27T18:37:00.000-07:00

After dinner, Dave was serving himself some pumpkin pie. I didn't make the pie. It came from Momma Wegman if you're an east-coaster...

So the pie was delicious, but a little runnier than I make it... so he was having a hard time transferring the pie from plate to dish... In fact, it sort of came apart in a hundred mushy pumpkiny pieces... all over his plate.

Kelly: Need some help?
Dave: Shit. It looks like I already ate it.

Kellincatty: Seamstress?

2008-10-26T16:43:00.000-07:00

I am self-avowed worst seamstress in the world. I can sew a button, or hem my pants under great duress. No matter how much I seem (no pun intended) to measure twice or cut once, I just can't stitch evenly... I'm always getting the thread stuck on some bit of fringe - or on the leg of my pants - or somewhere... In addition, there just aren't enough thimbles in the world to keep me from sticking myself - something I do often...

It's not that I don't like the IDEA of sewing. I very much do - it's just that I have no skill or talent in that direction... so if I ever sew anything for you - it means you're very special...

So. Fast forward to last night (when the Phillies rain-delayed into a victorious Game two of the World Series...) I had it in my head that I was going to sew a project for my friend Nancy's baby shower...

I had to. She has a theme nursery. It's Pink and Black and It's Parisian... I was just glad it was a clever, non-typical children's room theme... Not that I hate Noah's ark, or Frogs or Fairy Princesses - but I kind of get a kick out of clever ideas for kids rooms.

Anyway, No baby boutique is doing pink and black so I was on my own. I bought a bunch of things - a baby med kit, a bottle, some Aveeno stuff, and a pacifier pouch... and decided it needed a basket. A pink and black Paris basket...

I had no idea what that looked like - but was hoping to find some pink fabric with a black toile design - but what I found - was pink fabric with black stripes... So I bought that, some cool black fringie-trim (have no idea - it probably has some cool french name that I don't know about), and sewed the fabric to the outside of a regular basket - and sewed the trim on the basket liner...

So anyway - I'm sewing while Dave's watching the World Series... And true to form, I'm sticking myself with the needle, I have no idea how to cut the fabric in the right shape or size, have no clue how to bind the edges - and I was a mess for about an hour... I stuck myself about seven times with the needle... The thread got caught on the basket handles about seventeen times, Um... I decided to sew the fabric to the basket itself, so I devised this way to cover the stitches with some black ribbon - and let me tell you, guiding a needle through a basket weave isn't easy... which only led to a remarkable thing that I've never done before - I actually BROKE the needle...

In the meantime, as the Rays are tying the Phils' score, I'm not in a good mood - but am determined to make this look like something nice... So I persevere... I try not to yell "OW!" too loudly - because the dog has already left to lie under the end table... Dave tells me I should really just buy stuff in the future and leave the sewing to people who actually sew... So...

Imagine my thrilled happiness when I managed to put this together:

The best part was when Dave finally looked at what I'd done and said, "Wow honey. That's really nice..."

Weighing in With My Two Cents

2008-10-21T10:30:00.000-07:00

I’m not a political girl… Yes, I have opinions. Yes I’m a registered voter… and Yes… I’m excited to exercise my duty (did you notice I didn’t say ‘right?’) to vote… But I’m not a soapbox preacher – and have been unusually plagued with the desire to see both sides of the issue – which often leaves me confused…

Recently, I read a post on Dooce.com – where she expressed her disgust at John McCain’s stance on abortion. She says he’s not pro-life, he’s anti-choice. In the last debate, McCain commented that he thought the issue of the mother’s health/danger was overstated. Dooce then cited two other blogs, both insightful and worth a look. Alexa at Flotsam said:

“I was angry at his use of the term “pro-abortion,” a term that could only be coined by someone who has never had to contemplate such a procedure, or watched a loved one do the same. But what I wasn’t expecting last night was to feel my eyes suddenly hot and teary, to feel so profoundly hurt.

Ames died at 22 weeks. I was lucky—if anyone can be said to be lucky in these circumstances—that his water did not break for another two weeks, and lucky that IV antibiotics and hospital bed rest kept the infection in his amniotic fluid more-or-less contained for twelve days after that. But his water could just as easily have broken two days rather than two weeks after his death, and the infection could have been more virulent, spread faster, and reached critical mass much sooner—say when Simone was pre-viability, or on the very cusp of viability. Say 23 weeks instead of 25.”

My heart went out to Alexa – because I had an experience about 15 years ago that opened my eyes – and very much formed the opinions on the subject I hold today.

I was an ignorant college student who produced a television talk show on religion and ethics for my college… It was 1993, and the abortion issue was as hot a button as it is today.

NOTE: My college is owned and operated by the Christian Reformed Church (I’ve never been CRC – but this is another story for another day). Their general viewpoint is that life is sacred, and abortion should not be the norm, except in cases of rape, incest, or danger to the mother’s life or health.

One of the things that I’ve always respected about the CRC is that – far above other church groups that I’d encountered to that point – they really exercised careful study and discussion about issues – like women’s rights… and abortion. To that point, I’d grown up in a very narrow-minded church environment that preached “Do as you’re told – don’t make waves…” So – needless to say, from a faith standpoint, I was learning for the first time to weigh issues and form my own opinions.

Back to the show I produced… I wanted to weigh in on the abortion issue – so I poked around, and found the name and number for a pediatric neurologist who was an alum of my college…

I can’t remember his name, but if I did, I’d make sure he got a copy of this post – as well as a huge “THANK YOU”

When I first got the doctor on the phone, we chatted for a moment or two before I asked him to be a guest on the program. He immediately turned me down. To this point, I think he was the first person to ever say no to an invitation to appear on my show, and I’d invited all KINDS of people, from Think Tank managers to TV commentators, Artists, Politicians, Priests, Rabbis, Unitarians, Agnostics… Everyone.

The point? I was just getting a taste of exploration… To boot, I was getting paid to do it. What could be better?

I asked the pediatric neurologist why he turned me down. He said, “Because I’m not going to tell you what you want to hear! I don’t consider myself pro-life or pro-choice.” He sighed, and explained to me some of his history with my college. In those days as a student, three things were banned from the CRC: Dancing, Card playing, and Movies… (All these rules have changed, as it is the Reformed philosophy that Christians should be actively engaged in culture. Instead of criticizing film, for example, we should take part in discussions about film – and gasp! Even MAKE film… Again, another story for another day – but I think it’s important to get into the mind of this doctor’s experience – just as important as it is to hear Alexa's.)
He went on to explain that he’d been kicked out of college for playing cards… And wasn’t a fan of his ‘ex-alma mater.’

“All the more reason to come on the show!” I exclaimed… “Things have changed here – and I believe your opinion is very valid and should be considered…”

He then explained to me that as a pediatric neurologist, he’d seen exactly what “Danger to the mother” meant (re-read Flotsam’s quote if you don’t get where I’m coming from) – As well as this scenario: “Kelly, being pro-life means a little more than giving birth to a baby – regardless of the mother’s health. At one point, I had to tell a mother that her baby was going to be born with no skull. I suggested an abortion because the baby had zero chance of surviving outside of the womb, and would have been in incredible pain between his birth and death - mere moments of life… It was difficult, but any other decision would have been cruel and unimaginable.” (I’m paraphrasing, – but you get the idea).

Okay. After talking for awhile, he finally consented to coming on my show. It was a personal triumph for me – and I hope a little redemption for the Doctor. I think he was able to lose some of his hostility towards archaic policies of my college in the ‘60’s.

His interview – and our conversation really made me think. Alexa at Flotsam’s blog reminded me of him – because more than anything I’ve read – more than the 777 comments on Dooce’s blog – more than the presidential debates – both seem to get at the real heart of the issue. What I mean is – Flotsam actually connected the fact that abortion concerns about people – babies – mothers – families… It’s not a policy. It’s humanity.

Okay – so just so I can enter into the debate –for whatever it’s worth, here’s what I think:

I shudder to call myself Pro-Life, although I respect life greatly. I do believe that life begins at conception. (Look at it this way – no one who’s not pregnant needs an abortion – so to me, it doesn’t matter when you think life starts – as much as whether or not you’re pregnant…) I personally believe life is growth (please don’t email me about fungus and bacteria and about fetus as parasite. If you believe that, you’re entitled – but you won't change my mind.)

I also believe that life should get a fair shake... As one who lost a nephew far before he should have died, I know how hard my family fought for life... And life is precious beyond all reason - SO, regarding abortion, I've got to tell you, part of me just doesn't get it... So - to prevent those (insert adjective: panicked, carefully weighted, sad, inevitable) decisions after conception, I will tell you I’m more pro-responsibility, pro-education, and when it comes down to it – I’m pro-adoption – but I’ll get to that in a moment. From my viewpoint, I think abortion as birth control is sad, but agree that there are times when it’s viable – Just like the doctor said.

I think republicans and democrats can agree that the number of unwanted pregnancies is too high. I’m speaking directly about younger kids – because mature women should know and understand life circumstances better - and I will leave their uterus to their attention… I would hope that we as a nation would agree to treat the symptoms of unwanted pregnancies – and not try to mop up a complicated mess afterward.

Instead of putting energies into attempting the impossible (aka overturning Roe v. Wade), we should be concentrating on educating – particularly young girls on all issues surrounding sex, pregnancy, protection – and the ridiculous stigma that abstinence is un-cool. I say this to affirm those who believe that their uterus is their business. If this is true, then who can possibly judge a girl for the things she does – or chooses not to do with her very own uterus?

If she chooses sex, then let’s teach her how to be safe. If she chooses to wait, let’s teach her that it’s an excellent, if not merely safe choice. In any case, let’s teach everyone about actions and consequences, prevention and resources… Let's teach them to think ahead about what's important - and make a few plans.

Were I in the difficult position of counseling a pregnant teenager, I would honestly hope that she respects the living, growing child inside her. There are thousands of people who (if the teen didn’t want the responsibility of raising the child, or didn’t have the necessary family support) can’t have kids of their own – and would love the opportunity to adopt… I know I’ve never been in a pregnant teen’s shoes – and I know it would be difficult, but since I’m spouting my opinion – at the end of the day, I think a healthy baby deserves a chance at life – if that life doesn’t put the mother at risk.

Can I make judgments for those who are old enough to make up their own minds? No. Do I believe that these women are in charge of their own uterus? Yes… But I look at this perhaps a little differently than most – I think her choice includes decisions she makes BEFORE conception – as well as after. I just think it’s a little broader than arguments I’ve heard since I learned the term ‘abortion…’ I don’t say this to be judgmental – and I’ve certainly made a lot of mistakes in my life (I’m not casting stones, honest!) – But this is a big deal.

I see a lot of people commenting on the forest of policy – just not the trees of humanity, emotion, and responsibility. If I ever found a politician who could address the issues and who I believed understood the issues like I've learned to - and I’ve talked about here, she or he would have my vote in a heartbeat.

Mass Malfunction

2008-10-18T14:59:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure what's going on lately - but I'm horrified, and am giving you a list of things that have broken, malfunctioned, or stopped working lately - all stuff that's costing me a lot of coin!

1) The van - see below. Not too thrilled by the axle popping off...
2) My camera flash - I can't really complain - I've worked it to death... Literally.
3) Last night, the power went out - and my computer was on sleep - and the power outage blew my power supply... Let me tell you - It wasn't raining, no thunder - just old power lines in the 87th best small town to live in in America...

I'd like to note that while trying to find out what was bad on the computer, Dave knelt down and twisted his back...

What else? Sigh.

k

What's Better than Fall? Hello?

2008-10-18T14:24:00.000-07:00

Eb at the Beach

2008-10-12T18:34:00.000-07:00

I know - I'm obsessing about my dog - AGAIN... Just wait'll you see the photos of him in his HALLOWEEN COSTUME...

Here's Eb at the beach. I swear - as soon as something not frantic and relatively interesting happens in my life, I will resume posting things of interest to people that don't have to do with my dog... But lately I've been running like crazy, and my frantic-ness usually doesn't lend to good blog posting... For example - this weekend: Friday, the band played a wedding at this restaurant that was so swanky, I was sure that they'd kick us out as soon as they saw Dave's '94 Plymouth Voyager pulling up to the entrace - and surely again - when Dave pulled the banjo out of the case (but they didn't - can you believe it?!!) - On Saturday, I shot a wedding, then stopped to see a friend play music at a nearby club. This AM, I threw a party for 14 third graders, then got a call from Dave - whose van broke down. After, I photographed a 90th Birthday Party... But let me tell you about this breakdown.

I have yet to tell the blogosphere about Dave's pride and joy van... Dave bought it last December for about 1200$... In the spring, we had to dump a lot of money in it to replace the AC unit... Two weeks ago, it got a new starter... I thought about posting photos of this silly vehicle my husband is so enraptured with - but have been sheepish about the whole thing. I'd like to think of it as the pink elephant on the highway that everyone sees, yet no one discusses... Let me illustrate: I once drove it to my office to get some work done on a Saturday... My boss stopped in said, "Oh Kelly - it's you! Is that your van? I thought it was the cleaning lady!"... I don't know - the van is sort of stylish I guess - in that hippie-dippy-send-me-money sort of way... It's got a Honda Civic Spoiler attached to the back and hood locks on the front (for reasons unknown) - You'll just have to imagine it because I think I'm refusing to post photos of it...

Okay - let me tell you HOW the van broke down. The ball bearing that holds the axle to the transmission just fell apart - and the axle sort of just - let go of the chassis as Dave was turning to exit a parking lot - and whomp!

It freaked the living daylights out of me - but was relieved when the AAA guy said this kind of thing only happens at low speeds... So we had it towed to a garage - and now I can only ask: How much money do you spend on a $1200 vehicle before you give it up? Seriously - I want your opinions... Think on it while I show you photos of Ebby on the beach.

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

2008-09-28T15:35:00.000-07:00

I just got back from a week in Ocean City, NJ. Dave and I spent the week with my parents. My sister and her husband joined us for the weekend. Now, the beach season is, for the most part over... And that's the way I like it. I don't particularly like crowds. I don't feel the need to parade thorough a sea of sweating people in order to purchase overpriced pizza and lukewarm beer on the Tiki Bar of some tourist restaurant with low Zagat reviews... Give me good music, long walks on the beach, good conversation... Just the stuff of any ISO ad...

Anyway, I didn't exactly have the dream vacation I just described. After all, trying to coordinate the schedules of six people is no picnic - but we did fine - in fact, we had this crazy family dinner last night that was one of the nicest I can remember. I had brought down a basket full of food - and we just cooked around whatever we had... We grilled fish - which mercifully finished cooking just before the gas ran out (this is a personal triumph for me)... And some other people really benefited from our presence in Maryland.

Last Tuesday, four of us visited Assateague Island. My father has a permit to drive on the beach - which you purchase yearly. Here's how it works. In order to drive on the beach, you must have a shovel, boards (in case you get caught in the sand), tow ropes, a jack, tire gauge, and tons of common sense. You have to let most of the air out of your tires, then you're on your way... Off driving over the dunes and along the surf... Which is all very well and good as long as you kind of know what you're doing...

To make a long story short, on our way off the beach, we passed a man in a blue Ford Explorer who got stuck. He had spun his wheels to such an extent that he just simply sunk in the sand - the frame of his car was resting on the dune. He was stuck - and in a little trouble. This is a great example of why one needs a shovel when driving on the beach... Except this man took the loose interpretation of "shovel..." and was trying to dig himself out of of the sand with a garden trowel. It was more than a little sad. "Hey. Does he look like he's taken air out of his tires?" asked my father... "Not nearly enough," I thought.

This man had no jack with him - but did have two half inch pine boards kind of inserted behind his rear tires... My father just shook his head. Dad yanks out his jack and shovel - and we take turns digging beneath his axles. It would have been fine, really -but the wind was particularly strong - and was blowing sand with such force that it actually stung our faces... Anyway - to make a long story short, we jacked up his axles, put 3/4" plywood beneath the tires - and told him to back out of the sand - which he did...

He made it 40 feet - and then turned his tires, plowed sand, and sunk straight down again. We repeated the dig-jack-board - and this time, we got him off the beach. I returned his pine boards (now broken in about 5 pieces...) and he thanked me profusely for saving him... He then handed me a fist full of 20$ bills, which I halfheartedly refused (It had been an hour and a half of digging - and I know I should be more magnanimous, but come on - I was chewing sand at this point... And besides - he was insistent! He then returned to the air station to refill his tires.

I looked at Dave. "He gave us $60. He said he'd like to buy us dinner for our trouble." Dave brightened, then turned to the truck, where my mother had been patiently waiting for us for an hour and a half. "Hey!" shouted Dave.... "WE GOT SIXTY BUCKS!!!!"

When I say shouted, I want to be perfectly clear about the decibel level... Think LOUD... And then picture the guy we dug out - standing about 25 feet away from us, clearly hearing every syllable loudly and clearly.

"Dave!" I hissed. "He's right there...."

"Did I do something wrong honey?"

Thankfully, the sand had blasted my face to such an extent that one might have had a hard time discerning how much I was blushing.... Meanwhile, my father was on the other side of the truck, where he had a clear view of all parties involved... He was just laughing...

So we went for lunch, compliments of the guy in the Ford Explorer... For the rest of the weekend, I kept exclaiming "Sixty Bucks!!!" in my best Muppet voice.

Then this morning, my sister and I went for a walk on the beach with Ebby and her dog, Rusty. Rusty sniffed out a wallet laying on top of the sand. In it was two credit cards, a drivers' license, a Blockbuster membership, and a student ID card. The kid was from a little town in Pennsylvania called Lititz. If you're not familiar, it's in the middle of Amish Country in Lancaster county. His drivers license showed a cute, bleach-blond All American boy who recently turned 21. Made me wish my step-daughter was with us so she could meet him.

Okay - so we get back to the house and my sis calls Directory assistance for Lititz... Wouldn't you know it - his house phone was unlisted? The operator suggested we call the police department - as they very likely have access to all unlisted phone numbers - and could get a message to the kid's parents that we have his stuff. So my sister calls the Ocean City police. There wasn't a long conversation, but I could tell my sister was getting no satisfaction - because she said, "Well, okay - thanks for nothing!" and hung up. "This rude woman said I was out of my mind if I thought she could find his phone number... I guess we'll just mail it to him." My sis then went off to get her shower.

I picked up her phone. I figured that Lititz was a pretty calm quiet little town - what could the cops there possibly have to do on a Sunday morning? So I 411'd them. I figured they'd log into the PA DMV, find this kid's home phone, and call his mom. I figured his mom might be at church, but by noon, I should have a call.

WRONG. On all counts. The officer thanked me for being so nice, then said "Well, I'll send a patrol car out there - and give them your cell number..."

HOLD ON!!!!

Okay. If you have a 21 year old child who is vacationing on his own in a beach town, I'm guessing the very LAST thing you want is an early morning visit from a patrolman... But there was nothing I could do. It's the price you pay for an unlisted number.

In the meantime, Dave was ready to leave Ocean City. I felt badly that I couldn't get this kid his stuff before we left... And I was kind of getting more and more ideas about how to find this kid as I rode with Dave. I called the number on his Blockbuster card... "Hey I have a weird request... (explanation)... I figured you have a phone number for him - can you call and tell him I have his stuff?" I had no faith that some minimum-wage Blockbuster employee would care to actually follow through, so I did the next logical thing - I called the number on the back of his Bank Card. "Um... Hi. I found one of your customer's wallet on the beach - and just thought maybe you could call him and tell him I'm sending his stuff back to him." The man on the phone was perhaps a little overzealous, and explained that yes, he'd be happy to help me... and that he would send the kid another card immediately... "Um, can you just call him - and tell him I'll get the card back to him?"

"Sure. I'll give him the message."

I know what you're thinking - Why am I so intent on getting a hold of this kid? Well, as one who recently had her account hacked into, I'm a little sensitive - and more than happy to ease the discomfort that I went through while buying lunch for strangers in Chicago.

Finally the kid called me at 3pm - Apparently he also lost his cell phone - and his mother had a good time frantically searching for his friend's cell phone number so she could tell her little boy that the cops had come to her house this morning saying he'd lost his wallet. Until then, he hadn't even realized he'd lost it...

Whattaya know?

Is My Four-Oh-One Okay?

2008-09-22T14:51:00.001-07:00

I was at a jam with Dave yesterday... one of Dave's favorites. It's called the Lyons Fiddle Festival - and this year, a ton of people showed up to watch an old-fashioned fiddle competition. It seems even more people show up to huddle off under the trees and jam... That's where we were- Dave, my brother and sister-in-law, and a handful of Dave's old friends - friends he's played in bands with since before I was born (let this be a lesson to you ladies! If you don't really want to see photos of your husband wearing short-shorts, crazy huge photo-gray sunglasses and seventies-era terrycloth headbands, marry someone your own age!) Anyway - it's a good time for Dave - and it's fun for me.

One of Dave's friends is a man named Ted. He's a large person - with a curly head of hair and a bushy bushy beard. He has a beautiful singing voice - a loud one. Add that to Dave's fab banjo playing, my Brother-in-law's funky bass playing, my sister-in-law's uke strumming, and my big old loud voice, then it's not hard to understand that we sometimes draw quite a crowd.

Between songs, one of the musicians said something about his 401K - one of the onlookers said "Oh yeah. I remember my 401K - it's now my 101K!

We all laughed - but it got me thinking - is my retirement in trouble?

In other quasi-musical news, the other day, someone e-mailed me an article from the Wall Street Journal weekend. The writer was a woman named Shelley Banjo. I immediately e-mailed her because I wondered how she got the last name (it's mediterranean) - Anyway, this is how I became only marginally familiar with her. The other day, she emailed me (in a group mail blast) to ask for story leads for an article she was working on. She asked, "If you know anyone who's run to the bank, whose marriage is breaking up - or if you're in the finance world, and you know of clients who are panicking, please let me know.

I answered her that I wasn't that worried - because my portfolio (I think this is the first time I've described my 'vast savings and estate' - hardy har har - as a portfolio) is pretty spread out over several different places, blah blah blah. And I was going to do as my financial guy suggested - Just ride it out.

In fact, I got the following e-mail from a financial planner, who refuses to freak out over volitile markets. I'm pasting a portion of the email below - sorry - I know it's a little long:

In our view, recent proposals by the U.S. Treasury aimed at
recapitalizing the banking system and shoring up mortgage markets for
borrowers could improve effective asset quality, allowing for a more
orderly de-leveraging than if there had been no announcement. However,
asset sales and de-leveraging will still take place, which will create
continued uncertainty and heightened volatility. Recent reports out of
Washington, D.C. indicate that Congress will act quickly to enact a
version of the "Troubled Asset Relief Program."

We believe persistent problems in the housing and credit markets and
their impact on global economic growth will continue to cause volatility
in the equity markets over the near term. We note that many of the
issues plaguing risky assets at present may take some time to work their
way through the system, though recent government intervention appears
likely to help provide some stability, in our view. Near-term, our
analysis suggests that bottoms-up analyst EPS forecasts may still be too
high for the balance of 2008 and for 2009. Expectations have been
ratcheted down for 2008 but are still above Citi's forecast of an 8.2%
decline. The divergence is even greater next year, where analysts in
aggregate expect a 24% increase in S&P 500 profits versus Citi's
estimate of 5.8%. Given mixed sentiment indicators, this could limit
near-term upside.

They then state: In our view, the process of moderating expectations
will be healthy but potentially disruptive for the market and could
exacerbate an already-volatile equity market environment. Longer term,
however, we believe the equity market is reasonably well positioned to
contend with these concerns; we point to attractive valuations, solid
corporate balance sheets (excluding financials), and strong free cash
flow generation as drivers for equities going forward. Risks to a
sustained market rally include a continued deterioration in credit
markets, persistently high oil prices, and meaningfully slower global
economic growth. Given our longer-term positive view, we would use
periods of market weakness to upgrade portfolios and build positions in
high-quality companies that generate strong free cash flow and possess
above-average prospects for growth.

Is this the good news - or the bad news? Did I tell Shelly Banjo the wrong thing? Am I in financial trouble?

I'm sure these are all things we're thinking about - so I thought I'd open up the dialogue - Does everyone feel safe - or is there a freak out that I'm too ignorant of? I know people are losing a lot right now - So I'm wondering how everyone's doing out there.

My VISA Expired

2008-09-18T14:22:00.000-07:00

More succinctly, I expired my Visa... You see, someone from a city far away somehow gained access to the number - and has been using it to mainly buy baked goods and pizza on my account... so I was forced to cancel the card... They made me do it... some unfaced stranger made me cancel my Visa - can you imagine?

I know I'm a nice girl, and often pay for lunch - but usually, it's because I KNOW the person. What I want to say is that between my bank, VISA, and me, we took care of the fraudulent charges - and we'll likely see no more faraway activity on my account, but I wanted to give a big virtual hug to VISA, who, immediately upon noticing I'd made a purchase both in PA and out of state, called to verify.

They knew about the card thief before I did - they called me questioning the purchase - and within hours, the card was cancelled, the charges were refunded, and all is well in the world.

And to you - who got free lunch(es) on my dime, shame on you!

Ebby Enraptured

2008-09-13T08:12:00.000-07:00

The other day, I brought Eb to Petco, where he rode around in the cart - and chose a toy. Normally, I pick stuff - and he plays with it for awhile and then forgets about it, - but he's been absolutely CRAZY about this teal blue dog that he picked himself... See for yourself!

The Half Wit

2008-09-02T04:07:00.001-07:00

My band plays a couple gigs per year for our friend, Ron. Now, I don't know much about runners. In fact, I used to tell people that I only run when I'm chased... but I think Ron, perhaps above all other people I've known, has made running look attractive. He runs (no pun intended)amusing races with creative names like The Half Wit (It's a half-marathon), The Chilly Cheeks (Think Derriere), the Ugly Mudder (A February extravaganza), and the like. His courses are always a challenge. We've seen runners come back from these races with scrapes, muddy clothes, even bloody nipples (just the men - it was quite a shock to me the first time some guy walked in with two red dribs on the front of their running gear - to which I say COTTON!!!!! Not NYLON!!!!! Wear Cotton - and this wouldn't happen... Also, maybe bandaids - and maybe a man's sports bra is in order... We could give it a cool name like the nip-guard) During all this, my band plays for these crazed runners and their supportive families while they cross the finish line.
Where I can't honestly ever picture myself running these half-marathons, I've gotta say that at the very least, Ron makes them fun. Perhaps the most curious thing to me - is that Ron holds these races at this German Club named Leiderkranz. It's GERMAN - it could be the most German thing next to Germany, BMW, and Volkswagen... This place is *really* German - right down to the portraits of WWI German and Prussian Generals on the walls. The yard outside is like the Black Forest - complete with your 10 AM Spaten - even the dogs are German: Ron even administers funny contests within the race... This guy drank just under 30 beers in the last mile (I suppose this makes him the best half-wit of all!): . Ironically, he won a case of beer On to the awards. The half wit trophy is a half-assed horse's patooey. Very funny. Not very German, but Ich werde dennoch unterhalten!!! (I'm amused nonetheless). My bass player's wife won in her category - so she got this little jewel to hang on her wall (perhaps next to a little painting of a German Shepherd... )

All I can say is Was ist das?

Fun With Names

2008-08-31T10:19:00.001-07:00

I got this from Sarabeth: Here goes:

Name Game
1.Your rock star name (first pet, current car
Inky Coupe

2.Your gangsta name (favorite ice cream flavor, favorite type of shoe)
Peanut Butter Haan

3.Your Native American name (favorite color, favorite animal)
Lilac Armadillo

4.Your soap opera name (middle name, city where you were born)
Lynn Port-Jervis

5.Your Star Wars name (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 of your first name)
Plake

6.Superhero name (2nd favorite color, favorite drink)
Orange Tito

7.NASCAR name (the first names of your grandfathers)
Harvey Fredrick

8.Dancer name (the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy)
Escape Chocolate

9.TV weather anchor name (your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter)
Kirkwood Kissimmee

10.Spy name (your favorite season/holiday, flower)
Autumn Lilac

11.Cartoon name:(favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now)
Orange T-Shirt

12.Hippie name (what you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree)
Cereal Willow

13.Movie star name (first pet, first street where you lived)
Inky Lake

Disappointed, Sure... Surprised - No.

2008-08-09T07:54:00.001-07:00

Is anyone really surprised that yet another politician has cheated on his wife? When I heard about John Edwards this week, was I disappointed? Sure. Surprised? Certainly not... and I'm not sure why members of the press seem to be.

I know I'm going to sound cynical and out of line - but let's stop for a moment, and think about the typical politician skill set -and therefore, what conclusions we can draw about about personality.

1) Politicians need to be persuasive. They need to manipulate situations, words, and even history to a particular point of view.
2) Politicians are, in many cases, charismatic. The more appealing the politician (in terms of either looks, conversation, ability to connect), the better their chances of being elected
3) Politicians are typically surrounded by people a lot... and therefore must be able to adjust quickly to different situations.
4) Politicians must be able to inspire people to part with cash.
5) Politicians know that it's important for people to be seen with them.

In short, there's a lot of ego - and intelligence that surrounds how to control other people's minds... I hate to say this - because I have hope that it's not an across the board statement - but they're control freaks... Control freaks like to get what they want - and like their ego stroked...

So - the fact that egos get stroked outside of marital boundaries isn't surprising... So John Edwards? You may be a nice man, you may be a generous man, you may even be an intelligent man - I have to tell you, I have really low expectations of your personal integrity... And I know it's wrong of me - but you're a politician. And really? I completely expect this behavior from you. I don't even know that the press should make such a big deal about it - because reporters have a similar ego to yours...

Jack Johnson

2008-08-08T14:29:00.000-07:00

With the help of my step-daughter, we took these photos last night at the Jack Johnson concert in Camden, NJ. The E-Center is a cool place, but we were waaaaay back in lawn seating, so we attempted to take photos through the lens of a pair of Olympus DPC I Binoculars.

Dog Stars

2008-08-04T16:07:00.000-07:00

The other night, I was walking my dog in the 87th best place to Live in America. As we were passing by the town movie theater, I heard a shrill "AWWWWWWW..." This is a familiar squeal - familiar, because I have a cute dog. Believe me. At no time has anyone ever said a shrill "AWWWWWW!" about me. Seriously - even when I was a little kid with a bowl haircut, the best I got was "Wow Mr. Kellincatty's Daddy, your little boy is really calm for a boy!"

The shriek was for Ebby - who is actually cute as a button.

This woman approached - and in a rather excited and high pitched testimonial, exclaimed, "Your dog is so cute. Just beautiful. Commere, puppy (Eb backed off - he's very shy)! I have a dog that looks *JUST* like yours... Moriah, doesn't her dog look just like mine? I just can't believe it! You have to come and see my dog... Here. Let me give you my number...."

She pulls out her business card. As it turns out, I never met her, but I knew who she was. She's the local astrologer. For years, I passed her house on the main street through my town - wondering if an astrologer could be supported here... Now - here she is. She at least had the budget for a movie - so it must not be a bad living!!!!

Now I guess I have nothing against astrologers. I just don't subscribe to horoscopes of any kind. For more information, consult a post I wrote awhile ago. Seriously - I've just always considered it entertainment by really really perceptive people.... or just those who are really really good at guessing human nature.

Okay. So now I have the local astrologer's card... And I've been past her house... so I've always been kind of curious about what an astrologer's pad looks like... So I ponder my next move. Should I go and see for myself or forget about it?

The answer came when during the next week, I had the afternoon off. Reason 715 called me and asked if I wanted to hang out. I love hanging out with him - so I offered to make us some lunch. After grilled cheese and chat, I mentioned meeting the astrologer.

"I've got to admit," I began, "I'm really curious to see if her dog looks just like Ebby, aren't you?" Reason 715 said, "Yeah... And I wonder what her house looks like?"

It was like Reason 715 was reading my mind. "ME TOO!" I screeched. "Like - if there are beaded curtains?"

"And incense" Reason 715 added.

"Yeah. and if she wears scarves."

"Yeah. And if she has a crystal ball"

Pause.

I looked at Reason 715 very seriously. "Wanna go?"

"OK."

So I snapped Eb on his leash, and off we went, on a quest to find out the truth of an age old stereotype. In our minds, we summoned our best movie scenes - of the carnival booth fortune teller game in BIG, of the hag of a witch in Kevin Costner's Robin Hood... Of gypsies, travelling snake oil salesmen, and prophetic strangers...

"You know Kell. I'd never do this without you... "

"I know me either - Dave would never agree to go with me. It's only you and me who are weird enough to do this."

We arrived at the astrologer's door and knocked, with visions of Whoopi Goldberg circa "Ghost" still rounding our brains. The astrologer knocked. The second she saw Eb, she shrieked again, "Omigod! I'm so glad you came! I've been telling people about your dog! Hibuddy!!!!!! Eb backed away.

She invited us in. Then we wondered where her dog was.

"We came to meet your Jack Russell Terrier!"

As if reading our minds, down the stairs bounded the astrologer's dog - but she didn't look anything like Ebby. For one, she was half his height - and maybe just as wide. She was cute and curious, and immediately fell head over heels in love with Eb. Eb, on the other hand didn't know what to do about his latest predicament.

Me and Reason 715? Um... We should have been paying attention - but we were too busy looking for the beaded curtains...

That's right - there weren't any. None. In fact, there was nothing in the house that would indicate that an astrologer lived there... No star charts. No crystal balls, no draping silk with fringe... not even incense (unless you consider cigarette smoke incense). Nothing. What the house had was Pergo. Lots of it. And the biggest television set I've ever seen.

Meanwhile, down on the floor, the astrologer's dog tried to show him who's boss by mounting him. Poor Eb growled. It was the first time I've ever heard him growl.

The astrologer quickly corrected her dog, then turned to me to tell me how glad she was that I'd come. I told her I was glad to meet her dog. Then I asked "So you do astrology full time?"

"Yes. For several years. It's been great."

"Do animals have signs?"

"Oh yes. IN fact, I can tell that Eb has been around for a long time - he's an old, old soul, fully grounded to the earth. This dog has a lot of wisdom... I can tell from his feet."

Now, to be honest, Eb does have kind of gnarled looking feet. They don't match his cuteness at all.

We chatted for a little while longer, then told her we didn't want to interrupt - and just wanted to say hello...

She then invited us to a barbecue at her house the next day.

We didn't go - it rained... But I have to say - it was a good experience for me. I'm a little sad to let go of my astrologer stereotypes - but I guess it was in the cards.

Summer in the 70's

2008-08-01T04:12:00.000-07:00

Till I get my act together and resume regular posting, I thought I'd share this photo with you. It fell out of my photo album the other day - It's me, circa 1978 - And why didn't anyone tell me my fly was down? Sheesh? Also in the photo: My sister Jill (top) - and to my left and right, Doreen and Margo.

Disappearing Magicians, the North Pole and the New Female Fraternity

2008-07-04T19:47:00.000-07:00

I've kind of missed blogging - there's a lot going on - and a lot to catch up on. Back in May, I was coordinating the entertainment for a corporate carnival... I hired face painters, jugglers, unicyclists, magicians, balloon twisters, crafters, karaoke, costumed Mascots (no snide remarks, please), and caricature artists. The event was particularly difficult during the early hours because it was at a place with big security protocol. Performers had to sign in with photo ID, then needed to be escorted to their places at the carnival... So everyone signed in. As I was checking my roster, I noticed I was missing a magician.

"Presto" was nowhere to be found. Security had no record of signing him in. My gate people had no record of him. I had no idea where he was. I called his cell - maybe ten times in a row. No answer. I then did the only thing I could think to do. It is a measure I had to do, yet regret. I called his wife:
MRS. PRESTO: Hello?
Kelly: Hi. This is Kelly. I'm looking for Presto - he hasn't arrived, and I can't get him on the phone.
MP: That's funny. He left hours ago.
Kelly: Do you want to try his cell?
MP: Yeah. I'll call you back.

Moments pass - and my phone rings again...
MP: Kelly. I can't get a hold of him.
Kelly: Should we be worried?
MP: YEAH!
Kelly: Ok. We'll keep trying his cell. I'll call you when I know something.

I'm now freaking out. I like this magician.

Finally, the phone rang. It was Presto.

Presto: Kelly! My wife said you were looking for me. I've been here for a half an hour.
Kelly: Wow. I'm glad you're not dead. How'd you get in?
Presto: I came in with (so and so). They told me it takes a magician to get in here... I guess they were right.

Thankfully, I only lost two years of my life worrying that Presto had died in an untimely car crash on the way to MY event. I'm still not sure how he got in. That event ground was locked up like Knox. This is of course, nothing in comparison to the damage I've done to poor Mrs. Presto. I'm officially apologizing.
______________________________
In other news, I told you our former bass player, Scott, is moving to Ohio to take another job. He's put his house up for sale, so Dave and I volunteered to help him paint. I have to admit, I've painted for a few people, and where I keep offering, I never actually expect anyone to take me up on the offer (read: Call my bluff). Well, Scott did, but I still feel like I got the best deal out of it:

Scott: Do you and Dave still want to help me paint?
Kelly: Sure.
Scott: Okay - here's the deal. I think the best way to help me is if one of you helps me paint, and the other takes "Madeline" (his 4-year old daughter) away from the house for a few hours.

I readily volunteered Dave to paint. I took Maddy to
The Crayola Factory. Now I dig spending time with Maddy because she's so funny. The last time we were together, I asked her what she was doing for the weekend. She said, "I'm going to Kermit the Frog's house!" I asked what she and Kermit were going to do. She replied, "Well, we're going to hang out, listen to some music, watch movies... drink some beer..."

She's my kind of girl.

As we were driving to our destination on painting (read: got out of painting) day, Maddy pointed to a utility pole.

Maddy: Do you know what that is?
Kelly: That pole?
Maddy: Yes. That's the North Pole. That's where all the kids get presents.
Kelly: All the kids, huh?
Maddy: Yep. Just the kids. No adults.

I'd already considered getting out of painting a gift, so I just let it go.

We had a good time at Crayola, although I must note that the factory used to be a lot more fun when they let us play in big vats of melted wax... Must be some insurance issue. Now, we traversed stations - where we made wind socks out of tissue paper and paint stamps, silly birthday hats, and Model magic bracelets.

When we returned to the house, I started to understand why Maddy's absence was a good course of action. She immediately asked everyone in the room if she could paint - and then proceeded to get paint all over her shirt and hair.
____________________________________
Lastly, I'm telling this story on the condition that you, the reader, belong to neither the Masons, the Shriners, nor any other fraternal society. If you do, and choose to read on, know that I warned you. Do not, I repeat send hate mail. You may call me ignorant - but just know that I TOLD you not to read this. As a woman, I know very very little about your adult fraternities - and am only reporting this to record my hasty education on such matters. Dan Brown, take notes. This stuff wasn't in the DaVinci Code.

Okay. I told you we have a new Bass player, right? Well, his name is Dean, and he seems to be a good addition to the band. Two weeks ago, my husband Dave mentioned (out of CLEAR BLUE NOWHERE, MIGHT I ADD) to the band that he would like a FEZ. He'd never mentioned this to me in all of our 5 years knowing each other. Dean chimed in immediately. "I have a fez! My grandfather was a Rajah Shriner!"

Dave seemed very interested, and continued talking about the Fez. It seemed only natural that Dean would bring it along to our next gig. The Fez was impressive. It said "Rajah" on the front. It had a tassel held to the fez by a rhinestone brooch. It had embroidery. It was a fez dream. Dave put it on immediately.

Now, here's where I have to toss out the following disclaimer. Neither Dave nor I have ever been a member of a fraternal organization (particularly me). Dean's grandfather used to bring Dean to Shriner events when Dean was a child... So the fact that fraternal organizations don't like it when outsiders wear their stuff was an unknown to any of us. Likewise, the secret handshakes and hairy eyeballs that allow co-fraternals to recognize each other are also a mystery. I would not know a shriner unless someone said "Hi! I'm a SHRINER!"

Dave walked over to me and plopped the fez on my head. Fran, our guitar player, snapped our photo... Meanwhile, during the unceremonious plopping, I happened to be chatting with the male patron next to me...
PATRON: Um, you know... I'm a Shriner. You can't wear that fez. It's disrespectful
KELL: Of COURSE you're a Shriner. Of all the people I don't offend on a regular basis, I sit next to a Shriner when someone happens to plop their fez on my head. I tried to explain that the fez belonged to my new bass player's grandfather...
PATRON: Yeah. It's um. Disrespectful to Shriners. Did you know we have the best children's hospitals in the nation? Do you know any kids who need help? We can help them...

I took the fez off immediately, walked to Dean, and handed it to him.
KELL: Dean. The gentleman next to me is a *RAJAH*SHRINER* I'm being disrespectful - so I'm returning the fez. Yeah. Small world.

So we did the gig. Afterwards, I was explaining what had happened to "Frank," one of our regular "fans." I explained how I had no idea that I couldn't wear the hat of a fraternal organization. I explained that outside of the children's hospital, I had no idea what a Shriner did... (except I suspect that there's a lot of drinking - and who knows what else, Frank?!!!) - then, Frank turned to me and delivered the worst line I've heard in a long time:
FRANK: Did you know that all Shriners have to be Masons first?

OF COURSE I DIDN'T KNOW THAT!!! WHY WOULD I?

It then became clear to me that if Frank knew that, he could only be one thing:

FRANK: You know, I don't tell many people about this - but I'm a mason... And it WAS disrespectful for you to wear that hat. Do you know much about the Masons?
KELL: No, not really.
FRANK: Well, George Washington was a Mason - Did you know that? In fact, the Philadelphia Temple still has his Apron... We don't wear Fez's - we have aprons.

Frank then told me long tales of how many of our presidents were masons... How the masons had a large role in the formation of our country... And where he didn't say it specifically, implied something like "How dare you wear that fez!"

After that, I politely said goodnight - then swore off Fraternal Organizations forever... As if they'd let me join anyway.

DISCLAIMER: Really - I didnt' mean it. I have the photo - of me and Dave. I'm wearing the Fez. It's states evidence, I know. If it weren't so very offensive (which I never meant to offend - it was just a cool old hat) - (HONEST) - I'd post the photo - you know - the photo that I put a black bar over mine and Dave's eyes.

Bass Player Managed.

2008-06-20T10:45:00.000-07:00

Tonight is our first gig with our new bass player, Dean (WELCOME DEAN!!!!) - so I thought I'd share our new band photo, shot by my friend Dan (THANKS DAN!!!!) - out by the railroad tracks in the 87th best small town to live in America... Where three boys watched us being photographed - and kept offering us 5$ to play them a song...

Summer Break

2008-06-17T04:42:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the long blog-breaks- It's summer. I have so much to tell - but so little time to do it... In the meantime, here's a photo of Ebby playing with the hose. Ferocious isn't he? Of course, as I type this, he's sleeping with his head and front leg on my foot... What a beast.

NOTE: Excuse the lawn (Dave would want me to say that...) We had a week of 95-degree-and-higher weather in PA - and at the time of this photo, the grass had to wait!

On the Telly... In Philly!

2008-05-26T17:18:00.000-07:00

Check out the band!!!! My friend, Liz, CBS reporter, came to our Mayfair gig this afternoon - and shazam! We ended up on the PHILADELPHIA NEWS!!!!!

Thanks, Liz! You rock!

Anyway, this gig was so cool. Mayfair is a great little festival - purely my favorite thing about Allentown... It's a showcase for local musicians, my favorite thing - shopping for crafty stuff - and my step-daughter's favorite thing - Kettle Corn.

So we played one gig on Thursday, and one today... Thursday? We played in a tent - which was great - because the weather changed every three minutes. It poured, then it got windy and cold, then the sun came out - then it kept changing... Resulting in, among other things - this really fabulous rainbow, photo courtesy of my friend Laurie.

Thankfully, the weather today was just lovely - 80-degrees, easy, breezy and beautiful. We played really well - which is always a plus. We had a good crowd - we didn't forget the words to anything... And afterward - we had the nicest group of people. In addition to the news camera (wanna hear something terrible? After the gig, the cameraman approached me and informed me that we used to work live football games together... I didn't remember - which I feel terrible - but I always worked in the booth with the announcers - not on the field with the cameramen...), a reporter from the local paper came up and asked to do an interview with us. A group of strangers asked to see my guitar (which is very lovely - see?), and we just had a good time - it was a far cry from THIS gig - where if I'd had a tail, I'd have come home with it firmly tucked between my pathetic legs.

So we had a good time - and we hope to do it again next year!

Bass-ic Brain Surgery

2008-05-25T06:51:00.001-07:00

I've been reading Another Day in the Frontal Lobe by Katrina Firlik - and it's driving me crazy. It's a neurosurgeon's account of being a woman in a male-populated talent pool - and what goes on in the hospital. The actual information on brain surgery is fascinating. The part that drives me nuts is Dr. Firlik's stream-of-conscious writing style. One second, she's recounting a tale of surgery, the next paragraph, she's flashing back to finding an ancient brain-drill at a flea market... It's a maddening read - maddening - because I can't put it down. Where I love her though, is during those focused paragraphs where she writes:

We'd love to be able to blame a certain chemical, work environment, home environment, bad habit, cell phone, or deity - we could work on prevention - but there's just not enough strong evidence against any of them. I'm confident that a GBM (or glioblastoma multiforme - a tumor that originates in the brain) is not retribution for any sin or mispent life (it would probably affect more than just fifteen thousand people per year if it were). In short, a brain tumor is the fault of no person or thing. As with a deadly hurricane, nature is often both powerful and indifferent.

See what I mean? Compelling as all get-out!

Not to pull a Dr. Firlik on you, but in other news, Scott, our band's bass/dobro/harp player, is leaving the band. It began as his wish to spend more time with his new baby - and ended as a career change for him - He's switching jobs - and moving to another state.

What I'm saying is - that where I'm bummed, I can't fault Scott for any of his reasons for leaving the band. What's got my brain spinning is the long, arduous process of finding a new bass player. We put an ad on Craig's list that said something like this:
"Local band is seeing bluegrass/roots bass player. We'd consider it a bonus if you could play an other instrument (dobro perhaps?) and sing. We practice weekly and play approximately 2x/month. We're very serious about music, but laid-back otherwise, so divas need not apply... blah blah blabbity blah."

We got a surprising response, but one wanted to play originals (we do mostly rootsy/bluegrassy covers of songs we like), one wants more money than we typically make (I told him I'm all for making more money) - one guy - I completely accidentally deleted his contact info. This leaves three really viable candidates - one who has heard our band before (we love that he loves our stuff) - and two others who seem really interested. One will come to our gig tomorrow - and the others I'll have to schedule.

Then will come the long, arduous process of teaching them our stuff. I'll have to make a new book (or add the new stuff to our old book) - We'll have to get used to a new personality (We liked how the four of us interacted for the most part) - and hopefully, the new person will like us enough to sign on. It's a lot of spin going around my head. I got one comment regarding this news - from someone I would have thought might know better: "Kelly, you'll find some middle-aged bass player. It shouldn't be brain surgery..."

But in a way, it is. A lot of synapses have to fire in the right succession, the right pattern, and the right rhythm to find a bass player who can do our stuff. See - we don't play traditional roots music... We jam a lot of different songs into a bluegrass/rootsy genre... And that may not be easy for a purist to swallow - it may not be the right repertoire for someone who wants to play originals - and hey... we've already been through a lot of ego massaging with previous band members (I'm not talking about Scott - I'm talking about two previous players for whom the term 'high maintenance would barely describe the tip of the musical iceberg.)

In all, losing a bass player is like losing the rhythm of your band... but the upside is - that when it's all said and done, we'll find a new bass player - and get something new - and hopefully creative and cool out of it.... It's all bass-ic brain surgery - but I think we'll recover.

Simple Animation

2008-05-23T06:18:00.001-07:00

I've always said that some of the best things I've seen are very very simple. Take a look at this clever little animation. It's a good one.

Oldlyweds

2008-05-21T19:02:00.000-07:00

Well, Dave and I made it a whole year. We celebrated our anniversary yesterday with dinner and a show - in true Kelly-style...

I know what I'm about to say will make every man from Maine To California so jealous they won't be able to stand it. When I bought tickets to see my musical muse, Bruce Cockburn, I wasn't paying attention to the dates. This happened not because Bruce happened to be in town, but because I kind of forgot about our anniversary.. My overzealous-ness to get Bruce tickets became our anniversary date.

Not that this is a bad thing - but Dave doesn't love Bruce like I do. He doesn't really care about lyrics like I do (and Bruce writes amazing lyrics like "Silver scales flash bright and fade in reeds along the shore... Like a pearl in a sea of liquid jade his ship comes shining - like a crystal swan in a sky of suns his ship comes shining...") He likes guitar, but his thing is really the banjo (Bruce doesn't play banjo that I know of - but does play a really haunting, ethereal resonator guitar)... In short, had I been paying attention, I wouldn't have chosen a concert that I loved over something we both loved for our anniversary...

However - the nice thing about Dave is - he didn't mind. He's a good guy.

So - looking back on our year as a married couple - a lot has changed in our lives with the new house - not to mention that we are going on our third dog... Who is young enough to stay with us for a little while (yay!).

This has been a good year for me, personally. I like being married to Dave (I know - how trite and mushy, right?) - but seriously - I had no clue, after being single for so long - that I'd make a good couple. Dave might have some other things to say about this - so I'll invite him to be a guest blogger if he should want to say anything to the contrary... although he will probably tell you that we talk about really important things like this:

Dave: Honey, I'm old and I'm stupid.
Kelly: You're not stupid.

But Happy Anniversary Honey. Next year, I promise I'll actually make dinner reservations so we don't have to eat at the pizza place before seeing the musician of my choice. (Ok- you can pick. As long as it's not Rod Stewart)

:)

Meet the Pooch

2008-05-19T04:36:00.000-07:00

Three's a charm, right? So here's the new dog, Eb! He's a Jack Russell Terrier - and true to breed, he's a ball of energy and personality... He's only marginally a rescue dog - He came from my cousin - who is in the middle of moving - and needed a semi-if-not-permanent home for Eb (E.B., that is - he was born a little early, thus "E"arly "B"ird. He's now 8, and answers to Eb when it seems opportune for him to do so). He's pretty funny.

I knew I was in for it when he made an editorial comment yesterday... I took him to PetSmart (I wanted to see what he was like around other animals) I bought Eb a bone - and gave it to him when we got back in the car. He proceeded to bury it in a pile of bags and other miscellaneous hoo hah I keep behind the back seat.... as if to say "Hey! It's like burried treasure back here already!!!!

Can a dog make you blush? Maybe.

He then proceeded to attempt to bury the bone in my neighbor's garden - Now, he keeps it lying around the house. I think he likes it because last night, he brought it to bed with him - not to chew on - just to have it there.

The Philosophical Truth of Films, Professors, and Marketable Antiquities

2008-05-11T07:39:00.001-07:00

Last night, I had drinks with my friend, Brad, and his friend Jason. Both are professors at different universities - both teach Biblical studies, ancient civilizations, world religions, Ugaritic, Hebrew, Aramaic, and a host of other really really specific things about antiquities and the like. So what is our first order of conversation?

The Indiana Jones trilogy - and upcoming sequel.

It went something like this:

Brad: Who cares about a Crystal Skull?

Jason: "To make this film truly a big hit, Indiana Jones has to be searching for something that everyone knows and cares about..."

(NOTE: As you remember - Raiders of the Lost Ark dealt with Indiana Jones searching for the Ark of the Covenant - the famed box that contained the Ten Commandments, the staff of Aaron, manna from the Israelites' flight from Egypt - and the like. If you think about it, it was a big bang for a cinematic buck... the actual ark - the actual stone tablets that civilizations' morality is based on... food from heaven... In all, an excellent choice.)

The second film - Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom - was a nearly forgettable fest of noise. Honestly - The only thing I recall about the movie is that little kid yelling "Indy! Guard your Heart!" and this frightening man who ripped people's hearts out. IMDB.com reminded me that Dr. Jones was looking for some precious stones. Big deal. Everyone's looking for precious stones.

In 'The Last Crusade,' national interest was piqued again by a great tale of a father and son reconnecting after years of estrangement NOT TO MENTION a Grail Quest.

How do you follow up with another compelling artifact hunt? Inquiring minds want to know!

Kelly: How about the quest for Noah's Ark?

Jason and Brad: Overdone.

Kelly: But no one's allowed on Mt. Ararat - it's guarded carefully. And what about the popularity of "Walking The Bible?"

Jason: Bruce Feiler? Still overdone.

Kelly: What about Nebuchadnezzar's statue?

Jason: Book of Daniel? Wasn't that a dream?

Brad: No. Two statues. One was Daniel's dream - the other was the one Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego refused to bow to. There's no actual evidence that statue actually existed.

(NOTE: This didn't stop the popularity of all the grail quest movies - nor did it stop people from believing *every freaking word* written by Dan Brown.)

Kelly: Moses' staff?

Brad: It's in the Ark of the Covenant...

Kelly: Darn that ark!!!! Oh - What about the Fountain of Youth?

Jason: El Dorado!

Brad: Indiana Jones wouldn't believe in the Fountain of Youth.

(Brad is too practical for Hollywood, methinks)

Jason: But here he is, aging - wouldn't you think that Indiana Jones might be going a little senile and getting obsessed with things?

Kelly: And - the third movie proved that his father was a little kooky - it could be written in as genetic! Although I think people would hate to see Indy's mind going - so he'd have to find something that would lead him to believe it's not fiction.

Jason: My brother and I think of a million things that would make good film all the time.

(Jason might be just impractical enough for Hollywood, methinks - but then again, I don't know him very well)

So I thought I'd ask you guys - what would make a more compelling quest for an aging archaeologist of reknown than a crystal skull? To recap: Great movies are universal in theme, contain psychological drama, an hope for a wide audience. So answer carefully!

Remember - In the first movie, one of the first things that we ever heard the legendary Dr. Jones say to his classroom of lovesick coeds was "History is the study of Facts. If you want Truth - the Philosophy department is down the hall..." - So give me some truth!

Shut Up, I'm Being Interviewed

2008-05-10T05:04:00.000-07:00

Do any of you remember the movie "the Commitments?" Although Dave finds it cliche and passe, I have to tell you it's a movie I could watch again and again (like Juno - or The Crying Game)... It's the story of this rag-tag band of Irish musicians trying to get along as a band. Robert Arkins plays Jimmy Rabitte, a n'er do well twenty something living in Northern Ireland, who tries to make his musicians get along. While with the band, Rabitte is a no-nonsense guy who turns down advances from his attractive backup singers and inspires his team to think of themselves as the Irish saviors of soul: "Do you not get it, lads? The Irish are the blacks of Europe. And Dubliners are the blacks of Ireland. And the Northside Dubliners are the blacks of Dublin. So say it once, say it loud: I'm black and I'm proud!"

However... When Jimmy Rabitte was home at night, he'd sit in the tub, and using a back brush as a microphone, answer questions from an imagined interviewee... When his younger sib would knock at the door, he'd scream, "Shut up! I'm being Interviewed!"

Well.

Last week, I got an e-mail from a freelance writer - "Kelly, can we interview you for the alumni magazine? We want to talk about you and your job as video producer, etc..." Um. What? Have you run out of alumni? I've read her column in the alumni magazine (Usually do it after I scan the "Classnotes" section looking for people I remember.) Her column is filled with Alums who have done remarkable things. Among them, Norman Tanis, a '51 alum who has pioneered a library book retrieval system that uses robots... Dorothy Hoekema Graham, '67 - teaches software developers to find bugs in their programs... my old friend, Tim Jipping '91 works in the Chicago and LA film industry. Karissa Wilson, '99 recently released an album. Kevin Huizinga, also '99, was named Top Comic Book Artist of the year. John Zwier, '05 - is stumping for Barak Obama, and believes that God is neither Republican nor Democrat.

Me? I'm a video producer who wrote a song that one of her clients wanted to use as a sales meeting tool. It's cool - but I'm far from the inventor of a library robot (Do you know how I wish I had a library robot when I was looking for some obscure Adam Smith volume in college?!!! Or when I was at another college university library looking through stacks and stacks of Dewey Decimals for research materials?!!! Sacre bleu!)

Anyway, the first thing I could think when asked to be an alumni profile was "Shut up! I'm being interviewed!!!!" - but think Stacy London - not Jimmy Rabitte.

So the writer, Gail, and I e-mailed back and forth a little - then arranged an interview time. I chose 5 pm because I'd be done at work, and could shut my office door and talk uninterrupted for an hour. Poor Gail. No sooner had I begun to explain what I do for a living - than the phone rang three times for me, the door got opened two or three times, my co-worker (who was trying to meet some deadlines himself) was forced to bring my messages to me, etc... Finally, I just got in my car, put the cel on speaker, and finished the interview in the relative obscurity of drive time traffic.

So shut up, already! I'm being interviewed!

POST SCRIPT: Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is that - as I was talking to Gail, I realized that - even though my job is terrifically hectic and sometimes maddening, I really like the work I do. I know that sounds ridiculous - but after certain stints at work, it's easy to forget...

Flat Noah

2008-05-07T18:23:00.000-07:00

My friend, Noah (from Kansas) is doing a class project - He's read the book "Flat Stanley," about a boy who got flattened in an unfortunate bulletin board accident. In true Optimist Style, Stanley decides it's kind of great being flat - and mails himself to California...

Well, Noah's classmates all sent their flat paper counterparts to the nether regions of the United States - I got Flat Noah - so I wrote a lot about his adventures in Pennsylvania - and I'm copying them for you now.

One - you'll note that Flat Noah arrived at my house FULL SIZED. I was thinking he'd come to me about the size of a piece of construction paper - and I couldn't imagine bringing Flat Noah everywhere with me Full-sized - so I made up a story about how he got shrunk in the dryer - then I took a photo of Flat Noah - printed him on my laser printer at approximately 10" high, and we had our adventures... which did nothing but make him more manageable for me.

Here are the Flat Highlights. This was a fun project -

OK, Ok. Blogger won't let me upload the other photos - so I'll summarize - because I know you all are freakin' wild to know what ever became of Flat Noah. Well, Fran, my bandmate - offered (ok - I just asked him - and he didn't say no) to take mini-flat Noah to Poland with him on Business. The book had several pages of Flat Noah in front of cathedrals - and it was totally cool.

This concluded Flat Noah's Pennsylvania/Prague adventures - but it left me with a dilemma: How to return Noah to his original size and mail him back to the Real Noah in time for the Flat Tea Party his classmates were holding. It was mostly a dilemma becase some where - in the middle of taxes - and other regularly scheduled frenzies that occur in my house - the Original Flat Noah was nowhere to be found. I actually lost him. Think about it for a minute. I had one assignment - and I blew it.

But the truth is - I'm a creative professional. I could handle this- I decided to leave it to Flat Noah - in the last page of the book I sent back (along with a lot of PA things - like Hershey Bars, Peeps, Crayola Crayons and The GettysBurg Address), I wrote a story of how Flat Noah fell in love with a woman on a magazine - and decided to stay small so they could make a life together.

Cheesy? Maybe -but I figure as long as the cheese came with Chocolate, well then - hopefully - no one will notice.

Photos of Oz

2008-05-04T19:39:00.000-07:00

....Ozzy the Dog, that is.

Flashlight Drag

2008-05-03T04:52:00.000-07:00

I know I've said it before - that the only really great reason in my mind to have a lot of extra money would be to hire domestic help. So far, we haven't - which is a shame - because I really don't do well as a housekeeper. It's not that I live in filth - not by a long shot. It's just that I hate cleaning...

Dave and I had some friends over on Friday - which meant I've been cleaning my house in small doses for a couple of days. It began in the bathroom, where I vacuumed and mopped and scrubbed... Then I moved to my office. I put all the unhung (and not to be hung) photos and artwork on the third floor (where I wasn't giving tours - mostly because of an extra mattress I haven't managed to get rid of yet - it's currently lying in the middle of the floor, hoping for a slumber party or something) - Then scrubbed the kitchen, Dave dusted the living room... by last night the house looked great - or so I thought.

People arrived. They ate. We laughed. We had wine.... Everyone looked good in my shiny clean house...

Then it happened.

Two of my guests lost the backs of their earrings. On my seemingly spotless floor. Everybody starts to search. I start to search. Someone is looking in the heating vent on the floor. "Kelly! There's a penny down there!"

Fab.

Then - Dave did what I was dreading. He appeared with his personal collection of fifty seven flashlights. (Dave hoards a few things - among them? Garbage bags, paper towels, toilet paper, laundry detergent, guitar tuners, capos, banjo parts, and... flashlights.) Everyone got one... And they were shining them on every corner of the floor. I shined one in Dave's face... (I know - it was kind of mean - but only for a second).

Okay - so now? everyone is feverishly searching. I make a mad dash for the corner of the room - where we have a desk... I shone the light. I know I should have been looking for an earring back - but all I could see was dust... and dust... and hey! There's a dog hair!... crap.

Thankfully, one of the backs was recovered - but then, mysteriously, friend one lost her OTHER earring back (don't ask. Too much wine, I'm proposing) - so the search continued.... Everyone saw my dust. sigh... This continued till someone blindly felt under one of our music stands and found the earring back. Everyone else decided that the remaining back was forever lost - in my friend's bra. "Dig deep!" encouraged the group.

Later that night, as we were cleaning up, Dave asked, "So - were you embarassed when everyone was studying the floor?"

YES! YES!!!! Just get the vacuum! Get the maid! I'll give up the satellite!!!! Anything!!!!

Then he mentioned that he may have gone overboard with the flashlights... What are you gonna do?

Timing is Everything

2008-05-01T13:20:00.000-07:00

Kelly: Dave, I need you to be home on Sunday night by 5:00, okay?

Dave: Well, I'll probably be able to be back by 5:30.

Kelly: Honey? Why is it every time I ask you to be somewhere at a certain time, you come back and tell me you can be there by a half hour later than what I said? I mean - I don't know if you realize it, but you do this to me every single time.

Dave: Well, I just don't want to piss you off in case I'm late or something.

Kelly: In that case, I want you to be at the house on Sunday night by 4:30, okay?

Dave: I'll be there at five.

Pause

Dave: How did you do that?!!!

Kelly: I don't know - I didn't think it would work... I'll see you at five.

Dave: Sheesh.

Spring!!!!

2008-04-26T20:08:00.000-07:00

My backyard, despite my non-gardening abilities, managed to do this:
AND this:

Moving toward Miracles

2008-04-24T08:27:00.000-07:00

So my mother has been suffering a medical anomaly for the past few years. Her symptoms were really odd - and she experienced no pain - but really wanted to get the problem taken care of... Doctors were confounded... They had no idea what was wrong with her - and not a clue where to find out... One unsuccessful surgery later, she finally spent some time talking to a family friend who's a surgeon. He didn't know what to say to help her, but knew this great doctor who might.

So Mom and I trecked off to another state to visit a new doctor (My mother was unhappy about this - because she hates travelling... but I told her, "Mom - go to the miracle - don't wait for it to happen to you.") Seriously, it took us three hours or so to get there (and would have taken even LESS time had I not gotten lost.)

Anyway, this doctor was fan-freaking-tastic. He was so nice to my mother and asked her a thousand questions about her back, her surgery, and all that. He even at one point, tied her shoes for her after looking at her feet... in all, a completely polite, intelligent, and amazingly cool guy. He said he'd find it hard to believe that she wasn't in pain except he'd met one other person with the same symptoms... He couldn't explain why she was going through what she was going through, but committed himself to helping her find out... And he's been great.

My mother left feeling - if nothing else - that she at least wasn't crazy. I said I'd support her and drive her wherever she needed to go... She continued to explain to me that she didn't like traveling (oh, my aging Momma! If I didn't love her so much, I'd strangle her!)

Anyway, months have gone by - she's had tests upon tests - and finally she had an appointment with a doctor near where I live.

She called last night:

Kell's Mom: Guess what? I have a diagnosis!
Kell: What? You're kidding.

She then described the very rare condition the doctor believes she has. He showed her online - a photo of a gentleman who has this disorder - and showed her (gasp!) what happened to the guy after treatment... And oddly enough, the treatment is a relatively simple series of IV treatments... All that could possibly happen right near his office - right near my home (about an hour and a half away from where she lives).

K'sM: It would mean I'd have to travel to get treatments for five days. I told the doctor I'd have to think about it...
K: You could stay with me you know... We have a lot of room you know...
K'sM: Yeah. When I got home, I thought "What a dope I am! Why didn't I just set it up then?"

Yeah, Mom. Way to move toward that miracle... even if it's slowly!!!!!

She then mentioned that she'd have to schedule it carefully... Both of my sisters are graduating college next month - and she'd be darned if she was going to miss them... But at least she's starting to see things my way.

Yay, Mom!

Decorating

2008-04-14T19:19:00.000-07:00

I've been in the house for about a year now - and am only beginning to decorate. Let me know what you think of my new artwork...

Note Dave doing some light reading... tee hee.

Anyway, Dave really inspired this painting/collage. I had only thought so far as I wanted four canvases above the couch painted the same color as the walls (found the paint in the basement when we moved in) - I asked what he wanted and he said, "Paint an old mic on its side." So I did. Then I thought it would be cool to add feet. The only trouble is, I can't really paint, so I had Dave model for me - and photographed his feet and legs... Then, I printed the photos out on all different neutral-colored paper and cut and pasted the collage. I then painted some details in... and voila! I'm an artist!

Famous Eagle Scouts

2008-04-13T06:35:00.000-07:00

This is the preamble to the following post. I need you to know who some famous Eagle Scouts are - so you'll understand my new-found enthusiasm for scouting...

From Hollywood: Steven Spielberg actually got interested in filmmaking while working on a merit badge. Also - James Stewart who reminds us that every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings.
From Politics: Bill Bradley, former NBA player and New Jersey Senator, and Gerald Ford
From SPACE: James Lovell and Ellison Onizuka - Astronauts scouting the universe
From Literature: Wallace Stegner and Harrison Salisbury - both Pulitzer Prize winners
From Business: Ross Perot: Thrifty founder of EDS, entertaining Presidential Candidate - drove the same car for many, many years.
As Seen On TV: Walter Cronkite, John Tesh
From Medicine: Dr. DeVries, who transplanted the first Human Heart.
From Secret Files: William Sessions, Former FBI Director

Read on:

If I Had a Son

2008-04-13T05:07:00.000-07:00

My Brother was an Eagle Scout. His son is a scout. My nephew is a scout. I know the scouts have been controversial in past years - but I'm about to give them a ringing endorsement... I freakin' LOVE the scouts. How could you NOT love an organization that is cranking out the future business leaders, boyfriends, co-workers, good friends, and maybe even husbands for your daughters who prescribe to the following code?

A SCOUT IS:

TRUSTWORTHY
A Scout tells the truth. He keeps his promises. Honesty is part of his code of conduct. People can depend on him.
LOYAL
A Scout is true to his family, Scout leaders, friends, school, and nation.
HELPFUL
A Scout is concerned about other people. He does things willingly for others without pay or reward.
FRIENDLY
A Scout is a friend to all. He is a brother to other Scouts. He seeks to understand others. He respects those with ideas and customs other than his own.
COURTEOUS
A Scout is polite to everyone regardless of age or position. He knows good manners make it easier for people to get along together.
KIND
A Scout understands there is strength in being gentle. He treats others as he wants to be treated. He does not hurt or kill harmless things without reason.
OBEDIENT
A Scout follows the rules of his family, school, and troop. He obeys the laws of his community and country. If he thinks these rules and laws are unfair, he tries to have them changed in an orderly manner rather than disobey them.
CHEERFUL
A Scout looks for the bright side of things. He cheerfully does tasks that come his way. He tries to make others happy.
THRIFTY
A Scout works to pay his way and to help others. He saves for unforeseen needs. He protects and conserves natural resources. He carefully uses time and property.
BRAVE
A Scout can face danger even if he is afraid. He has the courage to stand for what he thinks is right even if others laugh at or threaten him.
CLEAN
A Scout keeps his body and mind fit and clean. He goes around with those who believe in living by these same ideals. He helps keep his home and community clean.
REVERENT
A Scout is reverent toward God. He is faithful in his religious duties. He respects the beliefs of others.

A few years ago, my brother asked me to go come and read stories to his scout troop. Before I read, I listened as my brother (who isn't always the KINDEST, FRIENDLIEST, or MOST COURTEOUS), delivered the following to his littles: "You know, boys, I was very very proud of you for the way you behaved at our dinner last week. You were all very POLITE and I was very pleased with you. However, I am very disappointed with you - because of the way you've all been treating (the assistant scout leader, a teen) - She has just as much authority as I do - and you are to treat her with the same respect.

That kind of blew my mind in the best kind of way- because this was not the way I view my cranky brother (sorry, bro, but the truth is the truth!) - It was actually really good for me to see him in this capacity - because it kind of reminded me of my relationship with him when we were young... about the time he got his Eagle Scout... (funny memories of that dinner include a lot of long-winded, well-meaning community leaders, and my sister - who unknowingly told my father a hot pepper was a cherry...)

Fast forward a million and a half years - I was invited to a friend's son's Eagle Dinner.... One. My friend Elizabeth and I sat at dinner with two 17-year old Eagle Scouts. And we actually had a great conversation with them. Previously, both Liz and I both worked with teens - and we were not accustomed to this kind of chatting with that age group - we were used to the following code of conduct: A TEEN IS:

MANIPULATIVE: Teens tell the truth that best suits them
LOYAL: Teens are loyal - but not necessarily to the right people at the right times... I know I'm not telling the whole story here - but that is another blog entirely.
NEED LOTS OF HELP: But deny this until they want someone to write their term paper.
FRIENDLY: Selectively, and not across the board.
COURTEOUS: Selectively - when they want something.
KIND of OBEDIENT: Selectively. see MANIPULATIVE
CHEERFUL: When receiving something.
NOT-SO-THRIFTY: I can honestly understand this - because when you don't make your own money, you have no idea of the VALUE of that money.
BRAVE: without understanding of consequences (This is proven - it's not me making a stuffy, 37-year old bitch... This is science. Ability to predict/consider consequences don't develop until early to mid twenties....)um. Cross-reference with the fine line between BRAVE and FOOLHARDY.
CLEAN: Mostly, not an issue -
REVERENT - I can't even comment on this...

Ok. Fast-forward to yesterday. I was doing a project that involved videotaping the Pinewood Derby. Picture about 200 people in an auditorium... Lines of kids having their Pine Wood Cars measured and weighed by older scouts... Fathers bragging about the cars "THEIR CHILDREN" designed (honestly - some of these cars took multiple engineering degrees to develop)... The thing is - all the boys - were active and excited - but none of them got out of hand. No one broke anything - they all listened to their leaders, they all paid attention, they interacted with the adults... It was kind of mind blowing.

So. Viva La Scouts... If for no other reason, when their human nature does kick in, we can always remind them of their code: Um, Jimmy? A scout is CHEERFUL. I'm going to have a long chat with my step-daughter this week - about what to look for in a man... Here's the list:

1) Must speak well of his parents
2) Must be straight
3) Must have career goals
4) And Please, please please... make sure he was a scout.

It's All Coming Back To Me

2008-04-08T19:46:00.000-07:00

Today, I had a situation where I needed some information... So I called a man I used to work with - at the company I used to work FOR. I'd long forgotten his extension, so I used the company phone directory... It instructed me to "Dial the first few letters of the person's first or last name."

The guy's name was Eric... So I "dialed" E-R-I-C.

The first choice the directory gave me was for another Eric in the company. It then said if that wasn't the person I was looking for, I should press the pound key. I did so.

THEN - it gave me the next prompt. A *very* familiar voice came on: Kelly (last name), Extension 340!!!!!

It was me. Even though I haven't been employed by this company for FIVE YEARS, I still had a mailbox...

Curiosity overcame me - and I hung up, and called back - just curious enough to wonder if I had any five year old voice mails... I mean - wouldn't you? I could have had a message from the President of Saudi Arabia... The late Charlton Heston - or even (gasp) - my old boss...

Unfortunately, I couldn't remember the password.... so my quest ended then and there... But how funny is that?

Creativity

2008-03-30T16:33:00.000-07:00

I've been doing some research lately on getting the creative wheels turning... Because I'm so busy all the freakin' time - it feels like I can't think an original thought between projects, photography, trying to see people - and of course, trying to stop the psychotic horse that is my life from running into that burning barn... that is also my life...

So, I thought I'd share some of my research - that can be summed up in one sentence: "Carry a notebook so that you can write things down as they happen."

If you have the time, however, here's the long form - one that I've done one workshop with one group - and will hopefully have an opportunity to do it again:

An idea is salvation by imagination.
Frank Lloyd Wright (1869 - 1959)

Creativity is not an exact science. Where it’s hard to pinpoint where inspiration comes from, we all know it doesn’t come easy… this is why our clients depend on us.
Unfortunately, they also depend on us for quick turnarounds and impossible deadlines. This is where the rubber meets the road. To be truly successful at our crafts, we need to think fast, maintaining the creative instincts that led us to our current jobs in the first place.

Drexel University is interested in this very topic, and has done some research: They can see brain activity change during highly creative bursts – but have yet to figure out where the big ideas come from – they do think, however, that your brain is can be trained to think creatively… So when you need ideas in a hurry, they’re there!

Mark Twain said, “You cannot depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus.”

So – Where do Ideas come from? We don't know - but the secret is – Documentation – and writing ideas down. Let's start with two ideas:

- What’s inspiring
- How to remember what’s inspiring – How to get in the habit

First, Let's talk about where to find inspiration.

1) By listening. When I was a young video producer, I wrote a commercial for a dairy that ended with the line, "To get any fresher, we'd have to refrigerate the cow!" I was killing myself trying to figure out how I could find a grocery store that would let me bring in a cow - to film in front of the dairy case. Of course, no one would do that - and I had no solutions... until the dairy client was talking about the last scene... "I don't know how you're gonna do it - put a cow in a freezer or do a cartoon or what..."

A cartoon!!!! That was my answer - and it was great. I was able to finish the spot with this little guy (and I actually got all of the credit!!!)

2) Films: I'm so inspired by Errol Morris - but I'm sure you have your own inspirations to draw from - Baz Luhrman, Julie Taymor - Just watch and learn!

3) Performers: The first time I saw Cirque du Soleil, I thought I could honestly run off with the circus... I was also amazed and inspired by the Blue Men and Stomp... These are performances that kind of stretched my understanding of what it is to be human - physically, musically, and all - showed me that my boundaries of humor and imagination needed some conditioning.

4) Dreams: I used to keep a dream journal - where I'd write down whatever I could remember when I woke up. I had it to a point where I'd often write down three to four dreams per night. I learned a lot about myself - and peeled a layer off of conventional thinking to get to the depths of creative thought. Someday, I'll write down a few of my more interesting dreams.

5) Media - TV shows, commercials, music videos... Occasionally, you find something so creative - it really gets your mind turning... current things I've liked include Pushing Daisies, the OK Go video (the treadmills) - and more.

6) Theater - The great thing about stage is that it's spontaneous, universal and mimetic... I've been inspired by everything from the set changes of "The Producers" to the off-off Broadway magic that is the Wooster Group.

7) BOOKS! - My favorites: Hard Laughter, Ella Minnow Pea, The Brothers K, Simon's Night, and Life of Pi... Just to name a few.

8) Talk may be Cheap, but it's SO valuable! Do you remember who you talk to when you're looking for some inspiration? I have some amazing friends in my life who really get my creative wheels turning! If they make a creative slip of the tongue, even better!

9) Past Events - Stories from childhood can create some beautiful universal stories... and some creative twists, and funny things that kids say.

10) Word Wiggles - William Burroughs used a cut-up method – of taking his ordinary text and cutting it into three columns arbitrarily… He then read the ideas in a new way… David Bowie often throws words into generating software that mixes them up. What he starts with may be a simple sentence – what he emerges with is a completely fresh idea.

11) The F-Words, Failure and Frustration - Ever ask what would you do differently? Take the time to write it down. Necessity is the mother of invention… When we hate things, we tend to find ways to work around them. How does this affect your creativity?It’ll help you later… in surprising ways.

12) Spinning the Web - for some resources, check out this, this, and http://www.inc.com/magazine/20021015/24773.html for a little brain candy. - also love indexed, desire to inspire, the Stylephle, and Coolhunter.

Are you inspired yet?

To invent, you need a good imagination and a pile of junk.
-Thomas A. Edison (1847 - 1931)

Your notebook of ideas should be your pile of junk... It's a boundaryless receptical of thoughts, ideas, questions, quotes, and scraps of paper. In mine, you'll find a pile of artist photos, quotes explaining why laughter is similar to sorrow, a few taped-in tags, stickers that say "I love Holiday office parties," top ten lists, and more.

I'll end with J.R.R. Tolkien's inspiration in action - here's how he created the Hobbits: "The Hobbits are just rustic English people, made small in size because it reflects the generally small reach of their imagination."

Just remember - Like Picasso says, "Everything you can imagine is real..."

So go create something!

Is That a Sock in your Pants - Or Are You Glad To See Me?

2008-03-17T18:41:00.000-07:00

Ok - so this weekend I did major laundry - \and I really hate laundry more than any other household task... because it involves so many freakin' steps - collecting, sorting, washing, drying, air drying, hanging, ironing and putting away... That's too much. It's much easier to do what I do to the kitchen floor (namely vacuum with 20-year old vacuum, then sweep up what vaccuum won't suck up, then mop, then re-sweep the remaining dog hair from the puppy I gave back two weeks ago because it was so neurotic I was worried about it.)

Okay - that was a lot of information about me I've never before covered in this blog... I'm just warming you up because I'm about to tell you a story so humiliating I actually cannot REFRAIN from telling you.

At about ten AM today, I took a potty break. At ten oh-two, I left the bathroom, thinking "Something feels weird..." I excuse myself to check out what I'm feeling, thinking a bit of toilet paper got stuck where I didn't intend it to... And discovered a SOCK, static-clining to the inside of the crotch of my pants... Who KNOWS why I hadn't noticed that before.

Too funny.

In other news, I just made new business cards - they're amazingly cool. I got them from moo.com - you should definitely check them out.

Oh. And we ordered a new vacuum cleaner. It should be here in a week or so.

Sushi Socks... Not Words that Go Together...

2008-03-09T19:41:00.000-07:00

I just bought my sister these socks. Aren't they a hoot?

The Time Has Come...

2008-03-09T16:20:00.000-07:00

I don't have anything brilliant to say today (if I ever actually DO say brilliant things) - but I had a funny conversation with my old friend, Tom - on Facebook the other day. He wrote something like, "Hey. Remember your friend in High School who gave me that mix tape of Midnight Oil? I need to track her down and thank her. She changed my life..." Tom and I worked at summer camp together - and lived about an hour and a half away from each other. (Chris - you'll think this story is interesting since you know Tom...)

What's funny is - that I no recollection of ever giving Tom a mix tape - but since he said Midnight Oil - it could only have been one friend of mine- Ximena... She got ME turned on to the band - and the wild Gyrating dances of Peter Garrett. I must have played some of it for Tom, and mentioned it to Ximena - and she must have made him a tape. What's crazier is that I found Ximena on Facebook fairly recently - She lives in the next town from me, so we've reconnected after not seeing each other since high school. (I've found a lot of people I know on Facebook. It's a weird thing for a 37-year old)

Anyway - I suggested that Tom look her up on my "Friends" list and send her a message. He told her the story of how he loved the music, went to the concert, bought a shirt, and wore it somewhere one day - when someone walked by him and said "You like the Oils too?"

Today - the Tom works for the guy who saw his t-shirt. They became friends - and now co-workers.

It's funny, isn't it? As an homage, I give you some trivia from Midnight Oil's politically infused past, care of Wikipedia:

"The band again brought the politics of Aboriginal reconciliation to the fore during their performance at the closing ceremony of the Sydney 2000 Summer Olympics. Then Prime Minister John Howard had triggered controversy that year with his refusal to embrace symbolic reconciliation and apologise to Aboriginal Australians and members of the stolen generations. The group performed their reconciliation-themed single "Beds Are Burning" at the ceremony with the word SORRY conspicuously printed on their clothes as a form of apology to the Aboriginal people for their suffering under white settlement, and to highlight the issue to Howard, who was in the audience at the Olympic stadium."

All the Pup: Half the Housebroken

2008-03-02T08:13:00.001-08:00

I've found that as long as Sophie isn't in my direct eyeline, she's probably whizzing on my rug... This is gonna be a long week. But she IS cute...

Making the Band

2008-03-02T06:28:00.000-08:00

While the following was happening, I was much too embarassed to actually write about it - but now - in the era of television documentaries, E! Network, and reality "Making the Band" shows, I think I can talk about it...

My band emerged from a group of musicians where my husband works. They'd get together once/week during lunch breaks and play music for an hour... It began with Dave and Fran, then grew to include two other employees, "Beau" and "Joe." Beau was a member of a local folk music society, which played a lot of nursing home-type gigs. Despite the fact that Joe "swore off" playing live music in public, he found he enjoyed the camaraderie of the lunch jams. Soon, the band was asked by co-workers to play parties - and the word got out. The quartet played at local venues... and in time, I joined up.

Eventually, Joe left for health reasons (He was preposterously high-maintenance anyway), which left us with Dave, Fran, Beau, me and our new bass player, Scott.

Due to the following list of painintheassitude, we asked Beau to leave:

1) Beau's short temper: If we somehow displeased, he'd purposefully turn up the high frequency on the sound board, causing deafening feedback and discomfort to our audiences and us.

2) His cosmic "Legend in his Own Mind" ego: Once he told Dave "You know, you and I are the only professional-quality musicians in this band.

3) His penchant for reverb: Beau had a lot of recording equipment - and liked to use it... which is fine... BUT. I've said it before. The fact that I've driven a tractor doesn't make me a wheat farmer any more than having recording equipment made Bob a sound engineer... He once made a recording of a song of ours that I now jokingly refer to as "Kelly: Live from the Holland Tunnel." As a side note, he played dobro on the song - and turned it up so loudly that basically it was me and the DOBRO-DOBro-DoBrO-d-o-b-r-o - note echo effect.

4) His constant gunning for his other band: At one of our gigs, a listener approached Beau, asking for our band's contact info. Beau said, "I have a better band for you." and proceeded to try and get the guy to book his folk music society band.... nervy, eh?

5) I'll only mention one of the nasty little comments he made to mutual friends that got back to us. The rest - well, use your imagination: Suffice it to say, that after I angered him one too many times, he began referring to the band as "Pussy and the Perks".

He just had to go! Scott volunteered for the unpleasant task of asking Beau to leave the band. He sent an e-mail... I know this sounds like a wimp's approach, but honestly - if you knew him, you'd understand that it simply wasn't worth doing any other way.

Scott wrote: "There is a huge discrepancy in your musical and personal interaction philosophies and ours. Both at gigs and off-stage your speech and actions are directly contrary to the way that we perceive the group... Your combative attitude makes these 2 simple goals very hard to achieve. We have to walk on eggshells every time we are with you, hoping that something doesn’t set you off -- so you don’t walk off stage in the middle of a set, or argue with other members on stage or send off nasty emails the next day."

Well - this set off a litany of angry e-mails from Beau to each of us individually. I just didn't have the energy to go to the mats with him (again) - so asked politely in an e-mail that we simply agree to disagree and move on... What I got was a tome of an e-mail - telling me what a coward (among other things) that I was... Here's just a taste:

"Yes, I have complained confidentially to several of my friends over the recent weeks and the way I have been treated... I was looking more for advice from them, what to do, absolutely not to disrespect anyone. So whatever you are saying you are conjecturing and showing your guilty feelings. On the contrary, I have had nothing but good things to say to all of my friends at work and home about promoting the Perks – your voice, Fran’s excellent lead guitar and Dave’s exceptional banjo picking, and the neat twist of music that we have been doing."

Oh! Silly me! "Pussy" was a COMpliment!

ANYWAY - We really need to thank Beau - because he gave us residual unity... It's been a few years - and there's nothing the four of us can't work out. We've had a lot of fun throwing ideas around - and when there's a conflict, we work it out. Not to get all "Katie Holmes" on you, but the band has been an amazing, creative part of my life...

Ok - This all happened years ago... I kept the e-mails because:

1) VH1, after reading this, is sure to revive "Behind the Music" - and will want to profile us. As band archivist, I'd like to provide an accurate account of the early days, and

2) I'm a writer... Someday, someone will need this primary research material when Michael Scott gets passe.

Lately, after two or three years, both Scott and Dave have had occasion to speak with Beau... Scott recently published a bluegrass songbook (e-mail me if you're interested). Beau got the press release. He wrote an e-mail to Scott: "Hello Scott. We used to be friends, but you hurt my feelings... But I'm over it..." (tee hee). Dave e-mailed to ask about a festival his folk band used to play at... Beau sent back a note saying "Both the band and I have released CD's of original songs. Most people say they like mine better..."

It's nice to see his current band is getting the same support we used to!

Just to wrap this up (with a big pink BEAU) - Thank goodness for the jerks in our lives - they just make us more appreciative of the people we like.

Laid Back Life Lessons

2008-02-28T06:52:00.000-08:00

This week, I was talking to Dave’s brother, Tim… We were discussing some family issues – those issues that both Tim’s wife and I are up-in-arms about, while Dave and Tim are – well, not. “Kelly,” Tim said, “Dave and I both just like to sit back and watch things happen….”

I don’t know if that’s a good way to live life or not, but it was put to the test when yesterday, my co-worker’s wife showed up with a 6 month old Black Lab puppy. She handed me the leash and said, “Kelly, Dave needs to get over his mourning. Now. I have bowling tonight; the owner is at a meeting all night, so you have to take her home.”

Ok. Now. Here’s something I know about Dave. Where he may be laid back most of the time, he hates feeling backed into a corner or forced into a decision (even though at times - it might be good for him!). Despite how much we loved Smokey, we were asked to take her at a party – in front of about ten people… Dave felt he couldn’t say no. Thank goodness he loved Smokey and fell for her immediately - he was fine within minutes of seeing her, and was really torn up when we had to put her down.

So now – that I have this new dog in my office, I called to tell Dave that apparently, I had to bring her home – and he had to hang out with her that evening because I had a commitment...

To be honest, I felt like I loved the hearts of my co-worker and wife – who were offering this lovely puppy free of charge – but I felt kind of put out too. Yes, I had agreed to meet the dog – but I wasn’t really prepared to take her home that night. I would have liked to take Dave to meet the dog, have a discussion about the dog, and then make a measured decision about the dog. But now… In front of my co-workers (and screechy office manager... She kept riling the puppy up with “OH YOU’RE SO CUUUUUTE YESYOUARE YESYOUARE!!! EEEEEEHHHHH!!!!”) I had to do something… I had my co-worker take the above photo of me and the dog (Cel cams just suck, don't they?). I e-mailed it to Dave, and then dialed his office:

D: Hello – this is Dave Speaking…
K: Honey?
D: Hi Baby.
K: Look at your e-mail. I need you to know that this was not my idea, but I apparently have to bring this dog home with me tonight – and you have to watch her.
D: What???!!!! (I’ll leave Dave’s actual comments to your imagination)
K: Is the e-mail open? (pause)
D: Look at how small she is! She looks like Smokey.
K: I’m repeating. This was not my idea. If you don’t like the dog, we’ll take her back tomorrow.
D: (sighing an ear-shattering, heart-wrenching sigh) Ok honey. Does she have a name?

(NOTE: I dislike naming dogs people names. I’d prefer to call them things like “Countess Baronnessa Von Wilson Pickett’s Fence”… or “Seven” or “Mercutio…” Dave has, in the past, suggested dog names like “Missy…” Blah.)

K: No. (Looking at the puppy, and trying to placate Dave – so I suggested names I could live with.) How ‘bout ‘Nina?’
D: I guess. (no enthusiasm whatsoever)
K: She kind of looks like a Sophie....
D: I like that better…

So – Presenting – in honor of Smokey – Ms. Baroness Contessa Sofia Von Wheady! (We really just call her “Soph…”)

EPILOGUE: I’m over the initial shock of another dog in my house. I look at it this way. Madeleine L’ Engle, in her time trilogy, wrote something like “A dog should come to you and choose you… You should never choose the dog…” Well, Soph came to us… So – Dave and I have decided to take her in and watch her happen.

NEWS... And Other Things to Catch Up On.

2008-02-15T13:15:00.000-08:00

First off - Sarabeth is looking to find a home for a laptop. If you know of any worthy child-recipients, please consult her website for more information. Sarabeth, this is an amazingly sweet thing that you're doing.

OK. Now on to news. There's been a lot of it lately. First and foremost, I'm just going to relay a little conversation I had with my 70-year old father the other day... It went like this:

DAD: Your mother's driving me crazy. She keeps treating me like I'm a little kid.
KELLY: Well, in some ways you ARE a little kid.
DAD: (somewhat whiny) I*AM*NOT!!!!!!!
KELLY: You know what the difference between you and Dave is? Dave at least ADMITS he's a little kid.

When I told Dave about this conversation he said, "I'm a little kid!"

It's like a big club...

VALENTINE'S DAY: What do you do when your romantic Valentine's Day Dinner - goes awry? As the host escorted Dave and I to our table at this restaurant Dave was dying to try, I found that I recognized the people at the next table - and they recognized ME TOO!!!! Four people from my church sat right next to us... We just said hello - and pretty much ignored each other on this - the Day of Love.

DOG NEWS: I hate to say - but on Monday, Dave and I were faced with the worst decision ever... and decided it was *time.* We had to put her to sleep. She had lots of fluid building up, she couldn't breathe properly, she would walk twenty feet and fall... It wasn't difficult to see that her quality of life was sorely compromised. The hard part? Her personality hadn't changed. She still loved her treats, she still wagged her tail, she still loved to be with us... After the vet visit, both Dave and I felt like we'd betrayed her... (even though we knew we didn't) and felt like we'd just been punched. We were both pretty upset - even though we'd only had the dog for five weeks... but what can you do? She was fourteen... Crapcrapcrap. I just can't say anything else about this. Where I'm thrilled she isn't suffering any longer, it just sucks.

In other news, work's been a sea of projects that are piling up - so if you're wondering why you haven't heard from me, it's because life is hectic - and one of the worst February's I can think of.

Elder Dog 101

2008-02-09T07:56:00.000-08:00

I know I've been going on and on about Second Hand Smoke - but what can you do? When you adopt a dog, your life changes... And as she's in her twilight years her life is changing just as quickly. I've lately been making fast friends with a local veterinarian - who is guiding me through my senior dog care with a little tough love.

See? Smokey is aging. At fourteen, she's not as active as she was at 5, 8, and 10...- heck. She's not even as active as she was when we got her. Despite outings, and daily walks, she's slowing down. She's walking slower - she's at times wobbly, and her eating habits are changing... Drastically.

This is partially due to the weekend I spent in New York with my sister (photos soon, btw) - and left the dog with Dave and my nephew, TJ. I don't know the details precisely, but when I returned after an OVERNIGHT stay in the city, HALF of a container of dog treats were gone. I don't know WHO exactly ate them, but I can tell you that Smokey seemed to have lost her taste for Purina Pro Plan. She kind of stopped eating dog food.

And I tried everything. I'd let her watch me pour the tiniest bit of milk onto the Pro Plan. I burried one of her beloved treats into the Pro Plan, I tried the Pro Plan Dry, I tried the Pro Plan wet... I tried giving her her pills NOT in the Pro Plan (she normally took them ground up and mixed in with the food) - Nothing was working.

Finally, two things happened. One - I called the vet. Who gave me an earful as soon as I mentioned that she'd been over-fed with biscuits. I'm paraphrasing - but it went something like this - and it reminded me of reprimands my mother gave me when I was seven:

"Well, first of all, let's change the way you're feeding her. She gets her food at mealtimes - whatever is convenient to your schedule. She must eat it then... You give her fifteen minutes. Whatever she doesn't finish goes out to the birds. If you're moistening her food, it's even more important. It can't sit in water. That's how we get bacteria."

"So I can't leave it for whenever she's hungry?" Then I began to feel sheepish. Yes. I fed previous dogs by leaving food in their bowls at all times... That's the way I knew to do it... but now - with Smokey - well, I was so wrong.

"Look," she said. "You don't feed your children by leaving food at the table for them to come and go as they please - eating for a minute, getting up, then coming back an hour later. That's not how it's done. If you don't feed her table scraps, and don't give her too many treats, then even if she doesn't eat one meal, she will surely eat the next time you feed her."

Then she got personal - and spoke to me as if I were well-meaning but slightly ignorant child (or spouse!!!) It was like I was given a C- in Elder Dog 101:

"And regarding treats. Buy the smallest possible biscuits. I'm constantly battling my husband because I used to give our dog big biscuits and break them in half. I came to find out that he'd been giving her handfuls of big biscuits... You do that and there's no wonder she's not eating. And don't worry. Your dog is very old - and her eating habits are going to change. As her activity level changes, she'll need less and less food."

Ok. So I went home that night, and though it pained me, I didn't give Smoke any tablescraps. I only gave her one biscuit. I told my husband it was painful to watch her beg. He agreed. We held our ground though... somehow...

Eventually, Smoke had no other choice than to amble over to her food bowl... Which she sniffed at and started to walk away... Then, I stumbled upon my second flash of inspiration. I took a handful of the Pro Plan - and put it on the floor. She immediately gobbled it up. I cautiously put more on the floor. It was gone in seconds. I got brave and dumped the remainder on the floor. Within a moment, it was like the vaccuum cleaner had sucked the floor spotless.

I have no idea why that bowl is now anathema, but the dog is eating again... So I don't mind. I guess it's part of taking care of the elderly pooches we've fallen hard for.

The Only Thing To Fear - is A Top Ten Phobias List

2008-02-03T20:24:00.000-08:00

I've been reading lately this book my stepdaughter bought for me for Christmas, called Take Me To Your Leader. It's just a compendium of minutia... Everything from drinking etiquette around the world to the oldest tattooed lady - to urban legends.

I try to read a page or so a day (while I'm drying my hair in the AM) - and the thing that kind of intrigued me the other day was a top ten list of phobias... It was a nutty list to me...

Top of the list? Not death, not being the victim of a violent crime, not global warming or terrorism... The number one fear, according to this book - is SPIDERS - those insey weensy creatures crawling up our water spouts... Here are the rest... After I give you the OFFICIAL list, I'll tell you about some of the things I'm a little afraid of...

1) Arachnophobia - fear of spiders
2) Social Phobia - fear of being evaluated negatively in public
3) Aerophobia - fear of flying
4) Agoraphobia - fear of leaving home (or a short radius from home)
5) Claustrophobia - fear of close spaces
6) Acrophobia - fear of heights
7) Emetophobia - fear of vomit
8) Carcinophobia - fear of cancer
9) Brontophobia - fear of thunderstorms
10) Necrophobia - fear of death

Here are the things that skeeve me... (in no particular order)

Rejection, slugs, The horse head scene in "The Godfather," pain, blindness, failing at work, falling too far behind, missing out on life due to being too busy, botched surgery, broken bones, poor health of my family, stupid people, social leeches, people with unpredicitable mood swings, weight gain, oversleeping, my personal disorganization, rising gas prices, poor public policy, alligators (they just gross me out... ), addicts, overcommitment, my own shortcomings... You know. The normal stuff.

Of course, without tyring to sound neurotic, I've also at some point in my life experienced all the normal fright-night dreams - being unable to run from a pursuer, being in a play and not knowing my lines, taking a test when I never went to class, being in public without my pants... These never bothered me because there's research to support that everyone has these dreams. They represent universal fears... (and universal fears do NOT include spiders... who eat the insects that I really have problems with...)

What about you guys?

TAGGED!

2008-02-01T07:13:00.000-08:00

I've been tagged by Sass (I sort of forced her into it... Sorry Sass. I'm a pain in my poetic a**)

Here are the rules: the rules:

* Link to the person that tagged you.
* Post the rules on your blog.
* Share 6 non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
* Tag 6 random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
* Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.

1. My secret hidden pleasure is reading celeb gossip...

2. "Terms of Endearment" made me weep... Like I'd lost a sister.

3. I can waste an hour playing quizzes on Facebook.

4. I've launched a few careers - and am wondering someone will launch MINE.

5. My husband is still upset that he fell for me first (hi Honey!!!).

6. I owe my fashion sense to Stacy and Clinton.

I'm tagging Trixie, Sarabeth, and Tiecen... That's all.

Sup-Sup-Suppertime

2008-01-25T19:24:00.000-08:00

Tonight, we brought Smokey on a little field trip - her second. She's also been to our friend Mark's house, where she immediately ate the food left out for his cat, Truman, and nearly destroyed Truman's favorite toy...

She may not be invited back, I'm afraid!

One place she'll always be welcome, however - is PET SMART... Where tonight, Dave and I dropped some dead presidents on doggie snacks (Smokey especially likes the Doggie Cookies...) - Despite overindulging her in biscuit and rawhide, however, Smokey still takes the time to beg Dave for a Pretzel.

Smokey would also like to show off her new collar - Snazzy, eh?

The Envelope Please...

2008-01-20T13:50:00.000-08:00

This week, I had the privilege of listening to a CEO's retirement lecture. In it, he told the story of his last conversation with his predecessor.

Upon the changing of the guard, the CEO was given three envelopes. The instructions? Open the first envelope when you get stuck the first time. If you get stuck again, open the second. When you get stuck the third time, open the third.

In two months, the new CEO got stuck, and opened the first envelope. It read "Re-strategize..." He did so, and got over the hump. Two years later, the CEO had a problem, and consulted the second envelope. It read "Reorganize." He did so. A few months before his retirement, he found a need for the third envelope. It read "prepare three envelopes..."

Ok. Two weeks ago, my band played at a new venue. We were hired by a man who came to another gig. He sat in the corner alone the entire evening. He watched what we sung, and who heard what we sung. Following the gig, he approached me. "Well, Kelly you passed the test. My name is "Biff," I represent and book bands for the Valley's best barbecue restaurant, "Crabby's Barbecue Pit." I like the way you guys play. You don't talk too much, you play a lot of music, and where I normally only book Rockabilly, I think I'd like to try Bluegrass..."

Where I thought Biff (not his real name, btw.) was a little unusual, I gave him my contact info. He eventually booked us at Crabby's (not the real name of the bar/restaurant).

Here's the thing. Crabby's is fundamentally a biker bar in the middle of nowhere. The food is great, but the place wasn't really conducive to Bluegrass music. So, where we played very well, by our third set, the place was sparsely populated.

It's a funny thing being a bar-band... You get hired on the basis of what kind of following you have. The more people you attract to your gig, the better your chances of getting asked back. THat night at Crabby's, we counted about seventeen people in the bar who came specifically to hear us play. This is about average for us. This is also the number of people who were there (give or take) the night Biff introduced himself to us.

So why then - at the end of the night - knowing who we were, what we played, and how many people came to see us - he told us he was disappointed with our draw was beyond me. That wasn't the end of our critique. Biff then criticized our set list: "Did you see that couple who left when you sang the Prine song? They wouldn't have gone if you chose a faster song." (NOTE: That couple? They were my neighbors, Zig and Peg. Zig works the night shift. He worked Friday night. On Saturdays, he doesn't nap at all. So. By eleven PM, he'd been up for at least 31 hours. Chances are, the Prine song wasn't the reason they left... but who am I to say?)

Ok. Then Biff told us that he put our name in the paper to advertise - but the paper neglected to add "Bluegrass" to the description. Therefore, Biff expressed that we should change the name of our band because people didn't realize what we played. He then proceeded to introduce me for the remainder of the evening as "Bluegrass Kelly."

Freakin' freak.

So, by the end of the evening, Biff basically told us that we had very little chance of playing at Crabby's again. He said we needed to do the things he told us, and it would help if we had merchandise and a CD. After raking me thoroughly over the coals, he made his final offer: "When you come out with a new CD, call me. We'll do your CD Release party..."

Good heavens - WHY WOULD I DO THAT?

I understand that biker bars are perhaps not the best outlet for my band. We occasionally play a venue that's not a good match for us. I'm okay with that. I understand that not everyone likes the music we play. Ninety-Five percent of our venues really like us... So we're on the right track... However, to be critiqued by a guy who books bands for one or two out-of-the-way venues is mildly infuriating.

It's not that I can't take the criticism, but really? He's not my manager, he knew what we did... Because of this, our performance should not have elicited his response... However, I'm a trooper, so I'll just take his critique - ignore some, and take the best - as I open the first envelope: Restrategize.

I will up my marketing efforts. I'll make it a priority to put up a new band website... I'll reorganize my e-mail lists. I'll do some different marketing. When Fran is back with the band full-time (he's gone about half the time in Europe for work), we'll think about some recording.

Then, I'm going to write my own little envelope and hand it to Biff. It'll say "Don't mess with the name of my band."

Some things are sacred.

The Nicest Robbery EVER

2008-01-17T17:32:00.000-08:00

Dave seldom remembers his dreams (*or so he says*), but the other day, he reported this one to me. Now. Remember - I really believe that dreams tell us things about our psyches... So. I want you to judge for yourselves what kind of guy you think my husband is:

Dave's Dream:
Dave was driving behind a car through an alley. Behind Dave's car were about ten other cars. The lead car veered off the side of the road and crashed. The driver and his wife emerged from the car. The wife was screaming in anger. Dave and the people in the cars behind him immediately got out to help.

The driver, in the meantime, pulled a gun out, and held up the entire entorage (remember - they were trying to help him) for whatever cash they had. DAve said he slyly hid a 100 dollar bill he had with him.

Suddenly, when the gunman stood in front of Dave, he accidentally dropped the gun. Dave heroically retrieved it and now held the gunman and his wife hostage (Lord, I hope you, readers, are imagining a fascinating soundtrack to this post - like one by Danny Elfman) Anyway.

The wife was furious and began furiously screaming at her furiously embarassed husband... Dave felt so badly for the poor henpecked robber that he gave him five bucks, then solicited the rest of the would be robbery victims to kick in... just because he felt so badly for the henpecked husband.

Even in his dreams, Dave is nice... Maybe too nice.

Hittin' the Streets

2008-01-13T16:49:00.000-08:00

What the heck... The other night, I was enjoying a nightly walk through town with Smokey Von Wheady (It's what we've named Smokey - We figured she neede a last name). It's a funny thing, walking with Smokey - because she's a busy dog. Really busy. She's so intent on sniffing and breathing and hoping the barista in the coffee shop notices her walking by and brings her biscuits that she never really properly takes the time to do her business. I've never seen a dog move while peeing or pooping like Smoke. Not to be indelicate, but she likes to drop poo on the move - which means she can deposit one turd every foot for about three yards.

Anyway - this has nothing to do with the real story I want to tell you - it's just that I'm so obsessed with our new dog that I can't stop talking about her... even if it's gross and completely inappropriate poop talk.

And speaking of inappropriate... As I finished poop scooping, I stood up, deposited the little package appropriately, and continued our walk, just past the Indian Grocery store. A man was getting out of his car... What man you ask?

Three guesses. My mailman? No. My... um... High School Science teacher? nope. It was my gynocologist.

sheesh.

Okay - I have to tell you, that in my life, I've worked with a lot of medical professionals - Dentists, doctors, opthomologists, surgeons, even vets for my pets... But I can't remember ever really running into one in the street (I once saw a my former family doctor in a restaurant - but it was after he retired, so I figured he wouldn't remember me.)

But there we were - Smokey, my OB, and me - standing on the street of the 87th best place to live in America...

I said hello. He seemed fairly sheepish - as if he was seeing me with clothes on for the very first time (It could be true!)... "Hello," said my doctor

"Um... Meet Smokey, my newly adopted dog..." I think I may have bantered something about her former owners... He commented on the fact that I was walking my dog - and how great that was... And then, I just cut the cord.

"Well, I'll let you go. Nice to see you..."

A Dog By Any Other Name...

2008-01-10T09:56:00.000-08:00

For all those moments where dog ownership is a joy, I have to tell you that some unexpected things have happened... For one, I've e-mailed the photos of Smokey to a couple of my clients... They've all been sending back photos of their dogs - from work - photos that they have on their computers... It's kind of funny, but I think I've joined the "Canine Coalition," and just may be somewhat cooler of a vendor because of it..

The other weird thing happened while visiting someone at their desk at work. I told the story of how we got the dog (read below if you don't know) - and he smiled and sililoquized (if that's not a word - well, you get the drift) -

"Wow. Dogs are great. It's good that you got a dog before you had kids. Know what? If I had gotten this one (points to photo of dog at desk) before I had this one (points to his oldest child), or this one (points to middle child), I'd NEVER have had THIS ONE (points to youngest child). Yeah. Pets are great. They're all you need."

He then sat back and smiled wistfully.

I*am*soooooo*"in"*right*now - thanks to the dog.

Second Hand Smoke

2008-01-05T18:09:00.000-08:00

Dave and I have made a monumentous decision in our marriage - We've adopted... A DOG!!! Meet Smokey!
It's a bittersweet adoption. Smoke's original owners had to move to Europe. Since Smokey is 14, she'd survive neither the 6 months of mandatory isolation nor the long flight, so it was either find her another home - or euthanize. This is where Dave and I come in. We both hated the idea of anything so unjust happening to a good dog, so we volunteered to keep her. Here she is in her first photo shoot, at human age 94:
Isn't she cute?
Anyway, she spent her first two hours pacing my house and backyard. She met our neighbors, Zig and Peg (the world's best neighbors ever). She met my parents, and she met Paula, my stepdaughter.

I feel terrible for Smokey's mom and dad. It was a tearful goodbye, but hopefully, Second Hand Smoke will like her new home!

Portrait of My Sister

2008-01-03T03:17:00.000-08:00

My GPS GPA

2007-12-31T08:59:00.000-08:00

Dave gave me a GPS for Christmas. It's really actually very cool. If I go to the GPS' website, I can download Mr. T - so he can tell me I'd be a fool not to go left in 500 feet. I can also download Gary Busey... Who tells me that if I get bored, I should honk at geese. Thanks, Gary Busey.

Ok. So I don't know too much about GPS systems - except that two of my co-workers have one. They say they're not actually great for directions- but are life savers for when you get lost and need to get back to a route you recognize. Their story: Both went to New England (from PA) in separate cars. Both left New England at the same time. One followed MapQuest directions home. The other decided to use the GPS... The one using MapQuest got home 2.5 hours earler than the other - because the latter's GPS guided the car through Brooklyn during rush hour.

Let that be a lesson to you.

Ok. So I haven't actually gone anywhere lately where I've needed the service of a GPS, but I've been playing with it - and some funny things have happened. First, I programmed it to guide me to work. Now, of course, I've been at my job for several years, so I know how to get there quickly and painlessly. The GPS took me a different route - and a pretty crazy one at that... through center city... turning, twisting, sauntering through the city as if I had all the time in the world... It's not even a route I like - but the GPS was very polite about the whole thing - "Turn right in 500 yards. Then. Make the second left." It did reach it's intended destination... but that's not the weird thing about it.

For some reason, because it's hooked up to a satellite, and because it's speaking in a pleasant voice - I feel like it knows other things - things besides routes, right turns, and where Le Cirq is located... I feel like it's watching me. I feel like it's someday going to tell me that I'm not wearing my seatbelt - or I should have used my turn signal... Or that I shouldn't be on the cell unless I pull over... Or I should be on my cell calling my mother...

It's a strange thing I do - anthropomorphizing global positioning systems... But seriously - if it knows there's 500 yards between where I am and the exit I need to take off of route 78, why wouldn't it know other things?

I am so paranoid right now...

sigh

Happy New Year Everyone! And remember! You're never alone - because some GPS can always find you - and help you find a circuitous route home.

The Puppies!

2007-12-26T12:55:00.000-08:00

My sister's boyfriend's Dog had puppies. Believe it or not, these little critters, despite looking like baby panda bears, will be Shiz Tzu's.

Martha: Out Voted

2007-12-16T11:42:00.000-08:00

Every year, I get this picture in my head of what this year's perfect Christmas tree should look like. Every time I stroll past a cover of Martha Stewart Living Magazine, I get little bursts of inspiration: Color scheme, things to do with ribbon, florals - whatever. Last year, I even went so far as to purchase an on sale lot of MarthaStewart glittery Christmas balls in purple, hot pink, silver, and pewter:I was going to do a royal purple tree - with purple roses (live...), purple ribbons, purple stemmy-things and the glitter balls...
However, the same thing happens to me as happens every year. I get these great ideas, but then - when I retrieve my Christmas decorations from the attic, I get all holiday-mushy. In those boxes are a collection of precious family memories - handmade ornaments, gifts, things that remind me of good friends - and all the stuff that gets Martha out voted time and time again (this year, I almost went out and bought all orange and red ornaments to match my new dining room... I'm not gonna do it. See for yourself:
This was carved by my father - I have a lot of these - but you get the idea. I can't not hang them on a tree!
This one was painted by my mother during my "I love snowmen" phase (I still love Snowmen - but as this is the ultimate snowman, I don't feel the need to add to the collection any longer):
And speaking of ultimate Snowmen, this is the last craft project Jason and I ever did together. When I unwrapped him today, well - it was a nice moment:
The next few were made by my grandmother - These are the things that remind me of the beautiful side of one cranky and tough-minded woman:
This one is especially fun to me -as Grandma couldn't find any extra ribbon to tie the hanger on with - so she used a rubber band... I can't get myself to fix it.
My other grandmother used to hang this on her tree every year... Wait, let me rephrase that. This ornament hung on the tree that she kept decorated and just covered up and stored in the basement from January through the end of November:
My favorite part of the tree is the star. My father made me this after I complained that he gave my family's traditional Christmas tree star to my sister (proving once again, that I wasn't his favorite... sigh) - I like this one just as much, if not more:
Then, there are the series of Christmas tree ornaments that just make me laugh. This one is from my mother - and is part of a larger series of "Weird Things People Who Work For Urologists Receive." One of the drug reps gave her this - and she gave it to me, because I would be the only one to ever really appreciate it:
This one I originally bought for my friend, Karen. I liked it so much I had to go out and buy another - so I could keep one of them:
This is another one I purchased - although I didn't mean to... A friend got this for me as a gift - and the moment I opened it, I dropped it and shattered it... So I ran out and bought a replacement. I have such guilt!
This one came from Germany, brought to me by my friend Mark. When you do as it says - where it says (push me), it yodels. This was the first year that Dave saw this... He just laughed and laughed:
Then there's the peace sign, painted by my friend Donna. It's from a roof slate from the chapel of the camp we used to work at:
Then there are the armadillos - This one is my favorite because it's just so goofy:
Then there are a few from my childhood - Which means it's getting old...
Here's another one my Dad made. It's so cute - and one of the first things he did when he learned how to carve:
My mom painted this one...
I have two of these - my aunt made them, and they're just so cool.
And - just to seal the deal that I'm not doing a Martha Stewart tree, I bought two new ornaments this year - This one marks Dave's and my first Christmas in our house. I'm not really one for keepsake ornaments, but what's a more appropriate gift for a honey-bunny?
This one is just plain pretty -

Do you see why Martha can't beat my tree?

Not Going Gently into That Good Night...

2007-12-13T04:31:00.001-08:00

It's that time of year again. I don't mean to sound flip, but enough with the dead people already. December 9 marks my second year without Jason - I miss his little giggle - how he covered his mouth, made wide eyes, and shook his shoulders...

My niece is having her bad year this year. She lost her grandfather (my sister-in-law's father), and two of her friends were killed in two separate car-related accidents. One was driving, the other was hit and while standing on the corner, waiting for a school bus. The latter was her dance partner in her choral group.

I talked to her in the middle of the "anger" stage in greivng. "Kelly, why can't some stupid kid die? This one was going somewhere with his life!"

I didn't want to be callous, but the truth is - we don't get to pick. To everything there is a season... and all that. I felt awful telling her that... because it's a truth that just too hard to bear - a reminder that we're all powerless over the inevitable... that fairness and justice are concepts we don't understand - and that - life is sometimes just unbearable and there's nothing we can do...

Nothing that is, except be thankful we got to know the people for the time we had them.

I guess I'm feeling this way because concurrently, two of my dearest friends flew in from Kansas last week. My friend's father, Myron died at age 72. I didn't know him well, but because John and his family are so close, it was a sad, sad time for me. I kind of lost it at the funeral... Myron was a Korean and Vietnam Vet. The local vets came in droves. At one point, they surrounded the casket, (In formation) and saluted. It was so moving. During the service, John and his sister spoke - a feat braver than I can imagine - of their dad... John told a stories of how his father had gone to Korea at age 17... how he never spoke of it until very late in life - when he went to local colleges and high schools to talk about the life of a soldier:

"He said they always asked him if he'd ever shot anyone. His answer was always, 'I'm here, aren't I?'"

Then there was the other side of Myron - the husband. He'd known his wife early in life as the girl next door. They lived in adjoining row homes, and their bedrooms were separated by a wall. He claims he'd been sleeping with his wife for years before they ever married. How sweet is that?

Then, when John described for the crowd gathered his "birds and bees" talk: "I was fifteen years old. My father walked into the kitchen and asked, "Do you drink?" (No, answered John.) "Do you do drugs?" (No, answered John) "Do you like girls?" (Yes, answered John.) "Ok then." And with that, Myron walked out of the kitchen.

Last week, two people walked out of the lives of people I care deeply about - and my words to my niece are haunting me... "We just don't get to pick." They're too true to be comforting...

People who leave us just dig a hole in our hearts - The holes never really fill up - we just grow accustomed to them in our own ways.

Feeling Like I've Missed You All

2007-12-03T18:33:00.000-08:00

...For not writing sooner, but things have been incredibly hectic. I guess I could start at Thanksgiving, where I cooked for 13 people... It was fun to have the troops all come to my house. Preparations - since I never had the space to cook for 13 before - were a little hectic, with different kinds of results...

Like this one: I sent Dave out for two items: A tablecloth and paper plates (I just don't have matching plates for 13, so I figured Chinet would be Oh-so-elegant... ) He came back... with red and blue plastic plates with compartments.

"Look hon! Compartments!" said Dave.

"Um. Honey. That's really not Thanksgivingy, but maybe..."

"You don't like them?"

"For picnics, they'd be great - but Thanksgiving?"

"Oh. I like 'em. They have compartments."

"Noted..."

"Look at my tablecloth. It's white with shiny designs!"

I don't need to tell you that I didn't really care - but let the record show that the shiny designs were Poinsettias... Dave had purchased a Christmas Tablecloth.

"It's lovely." I just let it go. If I didn't tell anyone, no one would notice... So the only person I told was my mother... Which meant one thing. My mom is kind of the hub of family information - so maybe my choice wasn't too wise.. because...

My sister came bursting into the house exclaiming, "Lemme see the poinsettia tablecloth!" She runs to the table. "Yep. Poinsettias!" My sister is not known for her cooth. This is the same sister, who during my wedding toast, decided to tell my and Dave's entire family that I didn't really like him romantically when we first met, so what can I expect?

"Yes, Gwennie, poinsettias. Can you help me in the kitchen a sec?"

You have to cut her a break - she did make a lovely salad with roast vegetables.

______
I started Christmas shopping. I think I actually ordered the same set of presents twice... so I'll have to sort that out later.

I like the whole giving presents thing - so this time of year is one of my favorites... You know - when Thanksgiving is over and it's actually OK to hear Christmas songs... And it snowed this weekend. My town (the 87th best place to live
according to Forbes - or Money Magazine) looked lovely and white for about four hours...

I'm excited about hearing Christmas music... I even met Santa Claus yesterday at the outdoor lifestyle mall. It was the coldest dampest blustery-est day this year... He and his three teenage assistants stood shivering by the outdoor gas fireplace, not at all surprised that no parent would bring their kids out in such crazy bad weather - not even to sit in Santa's lap.

I kind of wish I could have found some hand warmers - like the ones they sell in fishing stores... It would have been nice to give Santa a little gift to warm his heart - and fingertips.

In other blustery news, Today, my recycling bin blew down the street and is seriously M.I.A... The second time in recorded history that I've lost a recycling bin.

But deck the halls anyway! And speaking of which, my father brought over a wreath he made me... It's got pine and holly, but no berries or bows. "You have berries in your back yard, so you can do that - and you're on your own for the bow. I'm fresh out."

So I guess I'll have to deck the wreath too!