The United States of Tara and Celebrity Crushes

I LOVE the show "United States of Tara".  For those of you who do not have Showtime - you should get it - if for nothing else, for this show.  It is so EFFING good.  There are so many elements I like about it, I am going to give them categories.  The premise, the cast, and my crush.

First, and foremost, I love the premise.  I like the idea of a woman with many personalities that are not ambiguous, but defined.  The whole thing is ingenious, as far as I am concerned.

Who doesn't compartmentalize themselves in one way or another?  I used to be more compartmentalized, but since I turned 40, something changed in me, where I basically let one of my personalities take over - the one that likes to make jokes and goof off all the time.  It is my inner teenager, in a sense.

In United States of Tara, she has "alters" which are personalities that present themselves whenever the need arises for them to "act out".  Buck is her inner redneck male personality, and he is one of my favorites.  If Tara ever feels threatened, Buck emerges, and "takes care" of the situation for her.

She has a "perfect mother" alter named Alice, and when she has to plan a baby shower or something, Alice surfaces and saves the day. I feel like Alice sometimes when my children have birthday parties. 

"T" is Tara's teenage alter, and is by far my favorite.  She wears her hair in a ponytail on the side, like a roller skating Queen, and her g-string is always displayed a good four inches above her pants.  It is usually some understated color like lime green, or bright fushia.

Since I turned forty, I am my teenage version of myself - let's just call her "J".  "J" likes to have a good time, and she shirks almost all responsibility in lieu of what feels good - whether it is writing her blog, instead of doing the laundry, or going to a yard sale instead of pulling weeds.  "J" is not as wild as "T", she's just more open about who she really is, and less apologetic if she reveals more about herself than people are really used to.  In essence, "J" doesn't give as much of a shit about what people think about her as she used to, and it is very freeing. 

So, when you see "J" out at a restaurant, and she is wearing her straw pillbox hat, she just HAD to have at the Springfield Flea Market, give her a thumbs up and then you can roll your eyes to your friends once your back is turned to her.  Only know that "J" may not be the "best" version of your friend, Johnna, but you can always count on her to be the most fun.  Indeed!

I must also commend the entire cast of United States of Tara.  Her sister and kids are hilarious.  The family is uber dysfunctional, yet works on other levels.  The show seems very honest and not contrived.  It is one of those ensemble performances, that just works, and is believable, despite the far fetched concept.  You end up rooting for the family, instead of judging them.  They are just like everyone else, just doing the best they can under the circumstances - and that appeals to me.

Finally, I have to address John Corbett, who is the father in the drama. If you aren't familiar with his real name, he is also Aidan, on Sex and the City.  He is my number one celebrity crush.  I love how he just loves Tara, despite all of her hang ups, but is not a puss.  He's a man, but they have a good interpersonal relationship.

Did you know John Corbett has been with Bo Derek for like, FOREVER.  She is like 15 years older than he is and they live on this gigantic horse farm in California.  I like how laid back he seems in real life.  I saw an interview with him on YouTube, during the first season of Tara and he was talking about how he thought that after Sex and the City, that he would just kind of do supporting roles in movies for the rest of his life and then Tara came along, and it was the perfect scenario and environment for him.  He said that he would never do network television, again.  Interesting.  See, this is the type of shit "J" does instead of cleaning out her closet.

Anyway, catch up with United States of Tara, as it is currently in it's third season.   There's Alice at Hallie's fifth birthday party she threw for Hallie's whole class in her backyard.  It was a "Scooby Doo" theme, and she met the children and their confused parents as "Daphne".  Yea, "J" doesn't roll that way.  Eva will be lucky if she gets a candle on a store bought cupcake.  That is, if "J" even remembers her birthday!

P.S.  Doesn't that hair color just illuminate my skin tone?  Okay, EWWWW!

Zac Brown, Take 2

Brad and I have gone to four Zac Brown concerts in two years.  That, to me, is a lot.  The third time we went to see Zac, our friends, the Whybrews, went with us, to Cleveland, to see them.  We, then, got to go to Apple Valley, for the next night, but that is a whole other post.  It was our end of the summer extravaganza, where we eat, drink, and be merry, just adults, all weekend.  It always delivers.

Anyway, the concert is at Blossom, near Cleveland, and I am a sucker for an outdoor concert.  I miss Polaris so much, that I am still bringing it up three years after it has closed, and I don't even live in Westerville.  It was one of my favorite things about Columbus, and it is gone, and I AM SICK ABOUT IT STILL.

In college, Brad and I would go to Riverbend, in Cincinnati, quite a bit.  We met there in the summers, when we were dating, because it was halfway between Louisville and Columbus.  I saw Eric Clapton there twice, The Dave Matthews Band, and Neil Young, and countless others.  When we lived in Boulder, Brad and I saw a lot of bands at Red Rocks - CSN & Y had to be the highlight, as they played with the Denver Orchestra.

We saw Sting at Churchill Downs, a few years ago, and it was amazing.  It was funny, because prime seats for a horse race, just simply suck for a concert.  We were in a box, under cover on a beautiful summer night, crammed in with a bunch of people we didn't know, and it was miserable.  We had purchased the tickets off of the internet, and we were totally displeased.  We were directed to a customer relations booth, set up in the Paddock, when we complained, and were promptly given awesome floor seats.  It was UNDENIABLY the best customer service I have ever received!  I will pull that scam again this summer, fo sho!

At Polaris, I have seen John Mayer, Coldplay, James Taylor, the Dixie Chicks, I could go on and on and on.  For having three children in the last decade, I made TIME for outdoor concerts.  It just fills your Soul!

Quite frankly, I have had seats on the floor, and seats on the grass.  I love bringing in a blanket and hanging out with all the other people, while you listen to music and watch the sunset.

Zac Brown is playing at Nationwide, and it will be great, but I relished seeing him at Blossom.  It was a beautiful night, and we were staying in town, and we took a cab to the concert.  We had brought a cooler and a blanket, and the cabbie dropped us off in this field, and we started to tailgate.

What happened next, my friend, Paul, described as a "one, two punch that none of us was prepared for."

Okay.  I will try my best to describe what happened next, and try not to leave out any details.  A  pickup truck pulls in beside us, with one of those tops on, and everyone jumps out like there is a fire inside.  A scantily clad woman jumps out the back, and starts freaking out about how her sandal strap just broke, and she has no other shoes to wear, and that WE must help her fix them.  She proceeds to lay on the ground, with her feet up in the air, and summons Paul over to help her figure out a solution.

Paul awkwardly walks over and stands over her, with her feet in the air, and tries to help her refasten her strap.  It is fruitless.  She has on these Gladiator sandals, and she is trying to criss cross the strings under the sole of her shoe, with her feet up in the air, and Paul is standing over her, like a lineman about to get into position, before a play.  His arms are outstretched and his feet are apart and he keeps looking down at her, and then at us.  It was hilarious.

Simultaneously, her boyfriend is searching around in the truck, looking for alternatives for her to wear and as of yet, he has only come up with dirty, grass stained high tops that, apparently, his brother uses for landscaping.   

"I ain't wearing those, Kooter!" she screams as she lays of her back. To be fair, his name was not "Kooter", but it might as well have been.  She is also wearing an impossibly short, cut off jean mini skirt, I might add. 

So Kooter approaches Brad, Kim and I, and Paul defects and comes over to our circle.

"I don't know what I'm gonna do with her," he laments, "I mean, look at her!  She's laying there,  showin' everybody her  puss*hole, just to fix her shoes!" He snickers and then gets a look over his face, I can only describe as Catholic guilt.  "Oh, I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have said puss*hole,"  he looks at me, "I guess that wasn't, how you say, polite."

(Note: Now, for those older readers, like my parents and my in-laws, you replace the * with a Y.)

I mean, I wasn't wearing a school marm outfit, but I wasn't lying on the ground with my legs spread, either.

 "Oh, no problem, I love puss*holes.  As a matter of fact, I have one."  I look at Brad.  He looks at me.  He laughs nervously.  I grew up in Kentucky.  Messing with rednecks is a pastime of mine.

"What'd she just say?" he didn't wait for an answer. Brad is shifting his weight from one foot to the other, like I have seen him do 1000 times before, indicating anxiety.  "Did you just say puss*hole?  That's funny."  Brad relaxes.  "C'mon honey, we gotta GO!"  She gives up and slides the high tops on, while hopping around, and they trod off toward the ampitheater.  As you can well imagine, we worked the word "puss*hole" into conversations as often as we could the whole next day and night at Apple Valley.  PRICELESS.

This, of course, with the perfect weather, and the incredible music, the sun setting behind the stage, and overpriced draft beers, was, easily,  my favorite moment of the night.  I hope that my experience, Thursday, is half that, and I will be happy.  I am going with Brad, and two of his buddies, and we are standing in the "Georgia Pit" next to the stage.  Brad informed me that we have to get there at 6.  We will secure our places for about 3 hours until the band comes on.  That's the way 41-year-olds do it!  Holla!

Scalp a ticket to Zac Brown this Thursday, or if you live in Bangladesh, like one of my readers, download their new album on Itunes.  If you have trouble, contact me and I will send you a CD.  FUR RE-AL!

I asked my friend, Kim, to send me pics from the Blossom concert.  When I got them, I was conflicted because one picture, I looked good in, and the other SHE looked good in.  Also, the picture of all of us was the picture Kim looked better in, so she would KNOW if I just picked the other one.  I put them both in, because I would look like an puss*hole, otherwise.   See how I worked that in?  It's easy!  Try it!  Also a recommendation for today.

Fireflies and Fairytales and Wine

I recently went to my friend, Amber Kuehn's shop, Fireflies and Fairytales, that is closing its doors.  I haven't been able to get her out of my mind, since.  It takes such courage to start your own business and make a dream a reality, and then it takes intense stamina, to keep it going day after day.

Amber, I just wanted to congratulate you on a great run for 81/2 years.  You were the "go to" store for me when I had postpartum spending disorder, and I needed couture shoes for my newborn.  I've picked up the cutest clothes my kids own from your shop, and if I were ever in a hurry (which is always) to get to a birthday party and I forgot to get a gift, you were my girl.  Your store is where I would go when I needed something "special" and I just wanted you to know that - that your store is special, and that you should be proud of yourself.

I have said it before and I will say it, again, small business is what makes this country great.  So now let's turn our attentions toward The Wine Bistro controversy in Arlington.  Now, without knowing the issues (say you are the reader from Singapore) and just knowing me, which side do you think I'm on?  YOU'RE RIGHT, Mr. Hajimoto, the WINE side.

The controversy is that (and this is all second hand from Brad, because I only read the Arlington News for the arrests and the Estate Sales) the new Wine Bistro bought that property with the understanding that their patrons could park on the residential streets perpendicular to their business. There used to be signs that restricted parking  in that area, that were taken down to be steam cleaned or something (money well spent - use a hose) and they were never put back up.

Like most controversies, there are at least two sides, and the neighbors who are having to put up with the traffic and parking are infuriated.  Brad read me some of the comments, though, and one neighbor said that her children could not play in her driveway because people were always turning around in it to get parking spaces.  I don't know about you, but even before I had kids, I did not use driveways that kids were playing in to turn around.  My point is, that if you stick to a valid argument, like that it would be difficult to sell your house if you are close to a business that uses your street as a parking lot, then I hear you.  When you start spouting off nonsense like that, I am deaf to you.

Okay, my position is, and I am usually the least political person you will ever meet, (until I got old, that is) is that either the City of Arlington should side with The Wine Bistro, or they should provide some sort of parking alternative for them.  Brad and I have lived in a few neighborhood areas of big cities, and if you want Columbus to be great, which involves attracting new businesses and people to the city, then you need to make this city attractive to both.  In order to do that, you must embrace CHANGE.

Look, I love the Rusty Bucket, and the Red Door, but I do not want them to be the only two alternatives in town.  Oh, don't forget the MCL Cafeteria - of which I am a frequent flyer, but on a Friday or Saturday night out, I want to go someplace else, I'll be honest.  The change I am talking about is to live in an area where parking might be a little bit of a hassle, in order to live someplace interesting and fun.

Until last football season, I have had to endure wall to wall parking along my road, from early morning on Saturdays to late into the night.  They have reduced parking on Saturdays to just one side of the street, which helps, but I just DEAL, because I am fortunate enough to live near the stadium, and this just happens to be a part of the culture here.

If you make Arlington attractive, businesses and residents, will want to move here, which will pump money into the city, which will trickle down to raising housing prices, which will put money into your pocket when you go to sell your house and move to Mt. Vernon to get away from the hustle and bustle.  But, until then, if you just deny small businesses the opportunity to make it here, they will go elsewhere in Columbus, and make THOSE neighborhoods interesting and attractive.

So, that being said, Brad and I were discussing this in our basement over a bottle of wine, a muted Sports program and the songs on my Ipod.  I was explaining how badly I felt for Amber and how I will be very sad one day when I write my last post of spewing bullshit for all to decipher.

Brad looks at me very seriously and says, "I understand where you would draw a parallel between the two of you, because you are both doing something that you love,"  he continued (wait for it) "but one significant difference is that SHE has been making money for the last 8 years."

TRUE DAT.

Alright, so I have a plan.  I have had really good feedback and I understand that I have regular readers, even daily, in some cases!  So, here is what I am offering you.  For the low, low, low price of $9.99 a month, I will provide you with the same side-splitting, prophetic bullshit, that I have been delivering for JUST $9.99!  And, if you act NOW, I will throw in FOUR free valet parking vouchers for the wine bistro in which you park at my house and I take you to their restaurant on a Friday or Saturday night.  Now, you have to walk back to my house to retrieve your car, because I cannot expect to stay sober enough on the weekends to drive to get you at 10 or 11 at night.  So this is a ONE WAY valet, but whatever, right? IT"S FREE, BEAATTCHES!

Also, I can only take cash and my office will be located at the baby pool at the Swim & Racquet Club.  Please just hug me and slip the cash into my "darling" cover up pocket, without making a scene.

I thought of putting a Paypal button on my blog, but then I will have to pay Upper Arlington taxes and we can't have that, can we?

My recommendation is two fold - go to Amber's store, Fireflies and Fairytales in Upper Arlington and help her liquidate her inventory.  It was 35% off on everything when I went there.  Also, frequent The Wine Bistro, as often as you can, to show them that we do, in fact, welcome small businesses here in Arlington, and we do embrace change. 


Photo courtesy of my brother-in-law, Fletch - without his knowledge or consent, natch.

The Spelling Bee

My daughter, Mills, decided to enter a Spelling Bee.  She is in first grade, and she is a pretty good speller, because, Hallie, her older sister taught her to read.  Hallie has that "teacher gene" from Brad's side, and she thought it would be fun to invent "Book Club" when Mills was like 3. 

I swear to God, Hallie taught Mills to read. She would do flash cards and give homework, and have tests - the whole SHEBANG. It seems really sweet on the outside looking in, but in reality, I delegated part of Mills' child rearing to her older sister. I am not proud of that, but it is what it is, right?  As far as I am concerned, I am just giving Hallie future teacher street cred.  I am not, in any way, copping to the fact that I am a lousy Mother, okay?

The other day, I actually witnessed this conversation between Hallie and Mills in which Hallie scolded Mills,

"You have GOT to start bookclub with Eva!  You are way behind!"

Mills replied, "I tried to, a long time ago, but she just said, 'No Mills.  I don't want to learn how to read from YOU."  Classic Eva.  I guess I am going to have to step up this time.

This all took place because Eva, my four-year-old, pointed to a picture of a cow, while they were playing school, and yelled, "Dog!"  She loves messing with the two of them, because they are so anal.  She is Brad, made over.  

So,  I asked both the older girls if they were interested in doing the "Bee" when the flier comes home, and of course, Hallie concedes, and Mills jumps at the chance to do anything that will draw attention to her.  In Mills' eyes, there is never enough attention for her.  She is the type that always keeps score and the World revolves around her.  That is not to say that she does not have one of the biggest hearts I have ever encountered.  (The girl insists on kissing me full on the mouth, before bed every night.) Her heart is always in the right place, it is just lags behind her head that is filled with self-centeredness.  She is just one of those kids that you constantly have to REMIND them how good they have it, and that there are other beings in the universe besides her.

Anyway, Mills is my middle child, and she decides to do this Spelling Bee.  It is the first year they have allowed 1st - 3rd graders to participate.  They have a preliminary Spelling Bee with all of the 1st - 3rd graders, and then if you make it through 5 rounds of spelling words, you can continue on to the next Spelling Bee with the 4th and 5th graders.  This is a recipe for disaster.

So it is the night before the Bee, and I download the word list so that Mills can practice.  She is obsessed, of course.  I help her for a couple of hours, and then I let Hallie take over, natch. But still,with every ounce of my being, SHE HAS GOT TO MAKE THAT CUT.  I do not mean that in a controlling, child-obsesssive, acheivement driven, living through your child, kind of way.  I swear.  I am just envisioning what my late afternoon and night are going to hold, and possibly my weekend, if she misspells a word, and it is not pretty, my friends.

The more she studies and I quiz her (or Hallie quizzes her, let's be real) the more anxious I get.  Brad is even getting in on the action, adding to my misery, by imagining scenarios in which Mills fails.  By the end of the night, I am beside myself.

The next morning Brad and I are, again, discussing how bad it is gonna be when she misses a word.

"Wish I could be there," he deadpans, "but I have a meeting."

Riiiiggggghhht.

I tell Mills that she cannot cry if she gets out, that it is a school function and she needs to keep her dignity.  She asks me what "dignity" means and all I can picture is Martin Luther King, Jr.,  and I cannot figure out a way to articulate "dignity" because I am tired, so I decide on the words "shit together".  Just kidding.  But I did think it.  I ended up just saying, "Just don't cry.  Now go to bed."  And that's the truth. 

In true Mills fashion, she countered, "Oh, I get it.  I shouldn't cry because then the judges will feel bad."  That girl has been watching too much American Idol with J.Lo crying every five seconds.  I mean, sometimes they just SUCK, Jenny from the Block, stop promoting your new album.  I feel like that chic is always thinking three steps ahead, you know?

I digress.  So we are at the Spelling Bee, and even though I told Mills a thousand times to just go to the Gym, that I would meet her after carpool, the first words she utters to me are "you're late."

It's useless to plead my case in the middle of the auditorium in front of multiple stands of Moms.  At this point, I just want to start holding my breath until she misses her first word.  Brad is texting me furiously, "What's happening?"  and "Did she get out yet?"  To him it is all one big dodge ball tournament. Seriously, we were both on pins and needles.

Thank God, one of my best friends and her husband were sitting near me.  She totally got it because she knows Mills.

I made friends with the other Moms around me, too, who were equally nervous.  At one point, we were pointing out our children and I recognized one Mother's child, because "she was the one who did the back bend when she got her word right."  These were Moms I could totally relate to.  I felt better.

Well, to make a long story short, Mills somehow managed to make the cut.  This was partially due to the good graces of the judges who awarded her words like, "Boy, Better, and Other".  I wonder if it had to do with that threatening email I sent?  One will never know, I guess, and I don't think I want to.  Let's just say that my budget is blown for June, you dig?    Everybody has a price, mi amigos.  No matter where you live.  Geez, I hope my check clears. Okay, I am just joking, in case someone reads this and it ruins Mills' shot at the title.

So, anyway, my recommendation to you today is to get the new IPad 2.  That is what I downloaded Mills' practice words on.  Her Mimi and Grandpa Kennie bought it for them as an "out of the blue" gift.  It is amazing.  It will save me this summer.  That thing is so sleek, I am embarrassed to keep talking about it, because I am not worthy of owning one.  So, if it is in your budget - invest.  At the very least it will save your marriage.  Word.

Here is the outfit we came up with for the Spelling Bee. Do you think it's too much?

Nonpronunciationment

http://www.buzzfeed.com/amyr11/listen-to-shia-labeouf-pronounce-epitome-1u0v

I enjoy a mispronunciation more than anything.  Some people can't get enough of watching people fall Others might enjoy a good vomit caught on tape.  My secret pleasure is the mispronunciation of the English word.

Just like in a good "fall" story, if the person calls attention to themselves before falling, then the fall to the bystander becomes that much more enjoyable.  For instance, when I was in Middle School (a term which floods me with the feeling of self-consciousness to this day), I was walking into the most daunting place in my world at that time - the cafeteria.  I walked in, saw a friend of mine across the ugly linoleum checkered floor, seated at a table.  I then waved and yelled "Hi" to her as my the toe of my shoe caught the metal limb under a chair and down I went.  It was a slow motion event in my mind where the atmosphere around you becomes very clear but muffled, and I specifically remember the girl I was waving to, cupping her hand to the side of her face as she mouthed the words "OH MY GOD", and turning away from me.

The roar of the cafeteria was deafening after that and I picked myself off of the floor and proceeded to the back to the snaking lunch line.  In retrospect, maybe I don't appreciate a good "fall", per say, because I am too close to it - it is too painful for me .  I tend to empathize with the" fallee", rather than revel in their misery.

So, just to be clear, a made-up word like "fallee" is NOT the same as a MISPRONOUNCED word, or nonpronunciationment.  The reason why this post even came to me was that I was just at a CVS and a woman with Sharon Stone spikey hair and lipstick on that was too dark for her (it was also a little messy, clearly indicating CRAZY) butted the line I was standing in, and said, "Is it okay if I ask a question?"

She immediately had the attention of the entire line which was about six deep and then she followed with "Could you tell me where you keep the vanilla envelopes?"
My knee jerk, mispronunciation siren went off and I burst into laughter and then the slow motion that followed as I turned around to see if anyone else caught it, reflected a line of irritated faces and puzzlement.

So I got in my car after paying for my cold meds (code for Prozac and diet pills, natch) and created this post in my mind, complete with recovered memories of mispronunciation throughout my life.

My husband uses the word MAAZUR for measure.  That's just irritating now, though.  Another family member of mine, says HYDRANGELA instead of Hydrangea.  I tend to get "hydrangelas every Spring for my dining room table and I have several "hydrangela plants in my yard.

  I have said to her, "Hey look at my HYD-RANGE-AS.  I got such a great price on my HYD-RANGE-AS.  My HYD-RANGE-AS were only $14.00."thinking she will finally mimic my enunciation of the word.

"Oh, I love hydrangelas.  They are my favorite, too."  I am defeated.

My best friend, Alissa, shares in my love for the misspoken word, as well.  We were able to see the movie, "I Love You, Man" together where they do a whole rif on mispronunciations throughout the film.  We made a game that weekend to work as many of them into normal conversation as we could and then we would just be in stitches.  There is just nothing like an inside joke with your best friend during a girls' weekend.

"Congradulationes,"we would say to each other when we got a good deal on a pair of jeans or something. 

"YOU are a giineous!" one of us would exclaim, when the other would figure out how much to tip or  find the appropriate route to da' Loehmann's downtown.

The beauty of my affliction is that you can hear something second hand, and it is still as funny.  Think about it, if someone tells you about someone falling, it doesn't hold a candle to seeing the actual fall on YouTube. I guess, technically YouTube is second hand, but you know what I mean.

For instance, I have  a friend who tells the story of a girl she knows who had just gotten engaged and she was excitedly showing all of her friends her new engagement ring.  She described it was "platunium" over and over again, as in "My fiance was vacillating between white gold and platunium, but then he settled on platunium because it sets off the "bagwettes" so nicely. "  Cracks me up.  Again, the calling attention to yourself first, makes all the difference.

The Tzagournis' (pronounced "Tag Norris" for those not in the know) took us to Scioto Country Club last summer for it's infamous Friday Night Happy Hour.  Cindy and I were having white wine and one of us pronounced it "sardonnaay" by accident and we were giggling about it and using it as often as we could.  George and Brad came to the pool after playing golf, and Brad asked if he could get us another drink.

Without missing a beat, Cindy goes, "We'll take two Sardonnays, please" and we fell into laughter all over again.

So Brad apparently went up to the bar, none the wiser, and orders our drinks.  He then comes back and tells us that they don't have the drink we ordered. "The bartender didn't know what a Sardonnay

So Brad returns to the bar with his tail between his legs and explains that we really wanted two CHARDONNAYS.

The bartender then responds, "Well, of she's pronouncing it that way, then maybe she shouldn't have any more."

Oh, it is interesting to note, that I once set my purse on fire at another Scioto event, but that is another post.

My recommendation to you today is to always look out for a good nonpronounciationment.  There is nothing funnier, especially if you can use it in your everyday life, or even teach it to your children.  There are few free pleasures in life and my friends, this is definitely one of them.

Only, please, please, please, if you run across a good one, do me a solid - email, text me, or comment on this post.  It will make my day.

Check out the link above of "Sheea Lebuff's" nonpronunciationment.  I forgot to mention that mispronunciations are even funnier if the person is trying to appear more educated than he is.

The "Vintage" Limo

Okay.  Brad is obsessed with The Zac Brown Band.  He used to be obsessed with the Grateful Dead in high school and college, and now since Jerry's death, he has decided to turn his attentions toward Zac Brown.  We have seen them three times in two years and we are about to see them, again, this Memorial Day Weekend, in Columbus.  Brad is a member of the "Zamily," which embarrasses me to say out loud, and is a kind of Zac Brown fan club, that, as far as we know, enables us to be eligible for special privileges, if he wears his "Zamily" badge to the concert.  Okay, before you make judgements, let me tell you how Brad got to this place. 

Honestly, the first Zac Brown concert we went to was a total surprise. It was about two and a half years ago, and they were just about to be a big deal, but at this point, they had not won any Grammy's, and they did not possess any titles like, "Best New Band" or "Best New Album" or Country Band of the Century or whatever.   I had never even heard of them, and our friends, the Whybrews, invited us to the concert.  It was the first time I had ever been to a concert, not knowing one lyric of a song the band that I was about to go see, was going to sing.

I mean, Brad and I do that all of the time, with movies, but this was a whole different ballgame.  We love to go and see a movie that we have not heard one thing about, for instance, if we like the actors in it, or the plot seems interesting or whatever.  It is the unknown that is exciting, but going to listen to live music, seemed to me, like a whole different story.  To top it all off, we had amazing 2nd row seats, which just heightened the experience, as I had never before been that close to a band before.  But let me back up.

The Whybrews' and our 15 year wedding anniversaries were a few weeks apart.  We decided to celebrate them together by going out to dinner and a concert.  It was just one of those nights that was perfect.  The meal was awesome, the band was a delightful surprise and everything was just right in the universe, you know?  Wait, let me back up again.


So, we are waiting for the Whybrews to arrive from Westerville, and all of the sudden this white limo comes around the corner and I say, "Oh, there must be a dance tonight or something."  because we are surrounded on three sides by teenagers.  The limo then stops in front of our house and Paul Whybrew, who is a tall man, is sitting on the door, hanging out of the opened window (there was no "sunroof" option when this limo was built, maybe T-tops, but this one didn't have them) and puts his arms up in the air and yells, "Happy Anniversary, Underwoods!" 


Brad and I, our children, and mostly our babysitter, who up until that point considered us really lame, were stunned with delight. The whole neighborhood started to gather around. I felt like royalty.  The best part, though, is that upon further inspection, the limo was obviously part of a line of limos that they put out in 1985.

There was a string of lights illuminating the periphery of the limo, that I recognized to be put on by some sort of silly putty substance that were partially burned out.  In the description of the limo on their website, this is referred to as "fiber optic lighting".  Classic.  They are the same lights, encased in plastic that people use to decorate their docks at Apple Valley Lake.

Paul explained to us that he wanted to surprise us with a limo, but when he was comparison shopping on the internet, all of the other limo companies were very expensive, and then at the bottom of the list was this one, many hundreds of dollars cheaper - in a class all by itself - and for good reason.  Looking back, I think it was a little more than a cab would have cost, if we had taken individual cabs, that is. 

On the way to the concert, we asked if "Debbie", our driver,  could hook up Kim's ipod so Brad and I could familiarize ourselves with The Zac Brown Band's latest album.  It was then explained to us that there was no mechanism IN the limo that would enable an ipod to work, but that we could listen to the radio and that she would try and find a station that was playing Zac Brown, but that she had never heard of them before, so "it might be hard to find."  She continued, "Hey, I could just put it on SCAN, and then you can tell me if you hear one of his songs."

No thanks.  That might be a little distracting, and right now we just wanted to enjoy our drinks and admire the dingy cranberry velour interior for a while, as we gaze out the windows that might as well be tinted, they are so filthy.   "Well, you were smart to bring your own cooler, because we don't provide alcohol, as a rule.  Oh, you're welcome to DRINK it, though."  There was also a telephone in the back that was straight out of Gordon Gekko's limo. We debated at length whether or not the outdated phone reached the outside world or just Debbie, up front.  Debbie informed us that it was just a direct line to her, which was moot, because the barrier window between the front and the back was on the fritz, so Debbie was an active part of our conversation from the start. 

Now, let's turn our attentions to Debbie.  Debbie was a pleasant gal from Kentucky, who explained to me the dynamics of buying generic cigarettes in Kentucky versus Ohio, with great fervor and gesticulations, during a bathroom stop.  During this exchange, I noticed that Debbie looked as if she had been a beaver in another life as her two front teeth had an upside down "U" shape cut into them, in which a medium sized stick could have easily fit right into.  I lost interest in what she was saying, and could only focus on her "beaver-like" appearance which I finally decided was a result of Methamphetamines. I had seen this "look" before when I was a social worker, and it took me a while to bring it up from my memory, but once I figured it all out, I was extremely pleased with myself.  Now this is what it is like to be inside my mind, people.  It is not pretty.

Anyway, even though the concert was amazing, and our seats were incredible, and we ate at Lindy's at the bar, and we spent the entire night congratulating each other on what good friends we were.  But, as usual, my favorite part was the in-between, or the subtext of the evening, if you will.  Debbie and her limo stole the show, as far as I am concerned.

The name of the limo company we used was Ohio Limo.  Check them out and be sure to ask for Debbie.  Enjoy!

Fashion Consciousness

On Friday night,  I went to a Columbus Academy for Art and Design (CCAD) fundraiser that included a fashion show and drinks.  It was set up in two tents, one tent that housed the actual fashion show, and another tent that was for VIP's.  A "general admission" ticket was $125 and a VIP ticket was $350.  If you purchased a VIP ticket, then you were seated around the runway, and I think maybe you received unlimited champagne or something, and if you were General Admission, you got two drink tickets and had to stand.  There was a cocktail reception afterward with a "white couch" VIP area.  Generals paid for their tickets, and VIP's sat on the couches and drank free ones.  Hor d'oeuvres were also provided. 

There were a few people in the front row and throughout the party, that were wearing sunglasses.  This is inside the tent with very dim lighting.  I think this originally was started during New York Fashion Week, and say Milan fashion shows, because the celebrities found the flashbulbs from the international media, to be too blinding to enjoy the fashion show.  It also probably hid their bloodshot eyes and dialated pupils.  I mean, let's be real.

Anyway, I found the people with sunglasses on, to be profoundly hilarious, as this was a SCHOOL fashion show in COLUMBUS, OHIO.  Everytime I see a young girl making an ass out of herself, I think of my three daughters and what their future might hold, and I cringe.  I also make a mental note to sit them down and tell them to never, under any circumstances, should they wear sunglasses indoors, even if they are intensely marvelous, which all three of them are destined to be.  This will be during my "always wear underwear" talk, that will no doubt culminate into my "keep your knees together and your mind on Jesus" speech.

Anyway, I have been to two fashion shows in my entire life, and the other one was the "Project Runway" fashion show in Chicago.  We got the hook up from my best friend, Alissa's, sister-in-law, "Jen" who worked in Macys' promotions department at the time.  I was pregnant with my final child, Eva, and this experience is forever a part of my memory of Eva's pregnancy.

I was HUGE pregnant, not far along, mind you, just HUGE, and I put on my best maternity dress I had to borrow from someone else, and high heeled boots and did my best to "act like I've been there before," as Brad likes to say.  Jen (my girl crush) hooked us up with front row seats, and backstage passes to meet some of the designers, and none other than Tim Gunn.

Upon meeting the illustrious Tim Gunn, Alissa gushed and fell all over herself, and asked all these questions about each season, like he was her best gay friend.  He then looked at my very pregnant body and said, "Looks like you've been busy."  LOVE IT.  He then introduced us to one of the designers as "two ladies from Iowa."  All of the midwestern states may as well be Iowa, in his mind, and rightly so, because he is FABULOUS.

So, we sit down and there is all of this media from Chicago, and then the impossible happened.  The fashion editor from the Chicago Tribune, looked over at me and fervently waved as if I was a very big deal.  She obviously was mistaking me for someone else, probably Heidi Klum, and after looking behind me to see who she was really waving at and discovering it was ME, I did my best "I am better than you blow off wave" as to keep up appearances.  Alissa leaned in, because it was getting packed in there and it was difficult to hear, and says in my ear, "We'll have a good laugh about that one later."

I don't know if any of you are fans of  Project Runway, but it is a reality show in which budding  designers are given specific challenges, in which they have to complete an outfit or "look" in a very short period of time.  Some of the winning looks were on display at the event, and let me tell you up close they were a hot mess.  Being a fan of the show, it was so fun to see some of the contestants and their work we had devoted a significant amount of our lives to, (this not only includes watching the show, but discussing it at length over the phone) "in the flesh," as they say.

My favorite reality show right now is on the DIY Network and it is called "Family Under Construction".  It is about a family who buys a crack house in Minneapolis and fixes it up.  It holds my attention because the Dad is in the film business or something (and he posseses that jen a se quois that people like him always have) and the Mom is really pretty, but relatively normal, and so are the kids.  She is also fabulous and always wears these off the shoulder shirts, which fascinate me, as well.  Check it out and let me know if it is as addictive to you, as it is to me.

Pic above is of the CCAD fashion show.  Sooooo great.  Hey Mills, you might want to cover up a bit.