Got the blues

Now before you jump to conclusions, this is a very good thing.  I have had the great pleasure of spending some quality time listening to two great blues artists in the last 2 months at Rams Head tavern in Annapolis. Taj Mahal is still going strong after 50 years and then there's a new comer (sort of)-Shemekia Copeland, who roots come from her dad John.  I have a special affinity to blues music-seems it touches your soul and at the same time, makes you want to move your body.  How sexy is that?  Throw in some incredible guitar work, voices that began in gospel churches, and enough musical experience that could take us back to the days of Moses..well, how much better can it get?  There's just something about watching Bobby Blu Bland and B.B. King hobble out onto the stage, pull up some chairs (cause they can no longer stand) and belt out a song about loving your woman with that devilish twinkle in their eyes.  

Granted they might be beyond acting upon it, but its shared with soul and heart.

I've tried to love all genres of music and I know I might piss off a few folks, but I have trouble with the country music scene.  They all seem like they are whining about the wrongs in their lives or the loves they lost and I am not inspired to kick up my heels.  Yeah, I know, the blues sings the blues, but hey how can you go wrong with songs titled "Big legged Mamas are back in Style" "Big Kneed Girl" "Turn the Heat up" and Big Lovin Woman"?  And the next thing ya know, you are rockin your hips and shakin what your mama gave ya.  Music is one of life's greatest pleasures. Especially blues.

the allure of autos

I have often pondered why I take notice of the many makes and models of the auto industry as I travel the highways and city streets.  I strain to read the backs vehicles as they zip by..wondering why this is of importance to me.  Then I think about my upbringing and the fleet of vehicles (if you could call them that) that entered our families lives throughout history.  And then it makes sense to me. 
See, we looked for cars that had a working motor, a transmission that allowed you to back up and go forward, and I think that might be it. Our car history began with the infamous VW beetle..circa 1960's I believe.  Which wasn't too bad in 1972.  We travelled everywhere in that little car...all 6 of us,  and of course, the cat.  We took our annual pilgrimage to the Outer banks-bags tied to the roof, in the front trunk, parents in the fron seat, Chris and I in the back seat, and the twins in the 'well' all the way in the back. Cat was sandwiched between us. We stopped for gas, or perhaps to allow me to throw up (normal anytime we travelled) and we disbursed as if we belonged in the center ring of Ringling Brothers.
Once the bug died a slow death, we moved into the 1950's..with "Moby Dick", a ginormous 1958 Plymouth with a push button transmission and no floor. Well some floor-had to be careful where you put your feet. Poor thing needed alot of TLC-electric blankets at night, hour long warm ups before backing out the the driveway. 
Our next couple of purchases (or perhaps freebies) were station wagons..not even close to the decade we lived in. Want to mortify your 13 year old? Drive up Main Street of Annapolis as smoke billows out of the car and tell your daughter to hang her head out the window to get fresh air. And lets not forget the Chevy that had no power steering...that required at least 2 drivers just to get out of your parking space.
But amongst this colorful fleet was a moment in history I always remembered...my mother car sat for someone who owned a Triumph Spitfire.  What a sweet set of wheels that was!  And even though I was never old enough to drive it (although I do have some memories of being in the drivers seat), I swore to God that when I was a big girl, a sports car would be in my driveway.  One I OWNED.  A car that would bring me great joy and no embarrassment.
And yes, that sweet ride would be mine..we call her Zelda.  And even though I am a decade behind the times, time stands still for 2 seaters...simply doesn't matter. Especially on the open road.

offspring

Sometimes it is incredibly scary how much your offspring has been spit out with the same genetic make up as yourself or your spouse. First there's the physical resemblance,where you see what you mighta been as a male child as opposed to a female. And then there's the personality traits, which take on a combo of both parents. Maybe more of one than the other.
My son has just been asked to work on the Fiber Arts crew of his college.  All students are required to work 15 hours a week on a particular crew on campus, which contributes to the greater good of the college.  Presently he has the daunting task of cleaning dorm bathrooms.  Yeah. it is exactly as bad as you might imagine.  So this is a welcome change.  And what will he be doing on this new endeavor you ask?  Well, this is Warren Wilson College in Asheville NC, home of vegan cafes with campus grown produce, green dorms, and majors like outdoor leadership, where the school in nationally recognized for their mountain biking team.  He will be weaving, spinning, and creating naturally dyed yarns for apparel to be sold on campus.  Proceeds go back to the college. My true roots of a liberal hippee have come back to visit me. 
I have a suppressed side of creativity, which comes to light in the kitchen with cooking and baking. And Alan passion for food goes back to childhood.  Both kids have that gene.  Maddie will whip up cinnamon rolls one afternoon.  Andrew just called to ask for a seafood risotto recipe-he's cooking dinner on campus tonight.
And they both share the sarcasm gene from both sides of the family. Not always good, but thank god for Burns humor.  That would be my side.

Pressures of blogs and tweets

I promised myself that I would visit my blog every day and put some sort of pithy entry for all to read. Wait, who am I kidding?  No one is following this other than me :-)  Not that it matters,this is an exercise to keep my writing skills flowing and to exercise those few brain cells that still exist.  I sorta feel like Seinfeld...all sorts of ideas about....nothing.   And look how successful that was.
It's not like I have a focus with this, like Julie who wrote about Julia Child; or a blog about travels; or someone's experience with online dating.  And of course, I have no one following this because no one knows about it.  Well, that will not be the case in the near future.  I really didn't want anyone to be excited (right) about this until I knew it was going to be a normal everyday thing and not one entry a year.  I also wasn't sure what direction should it go in..a venue to vent my frustrations with public service, a bio with all my dirty secrets, or simply sharing fun and silly moments.  I choose the later.  With a few frustrations thrown in..and I'm not naming names.

PS  Let us all sing the joy that Glenn Beck will be defunct on FOX News in the near distant future.There is a God.

Looney Lucy

After my beloved dog Bamboo died, we took a small dog break until pressure from the kids was driving me crazy and we started our search for the next perfect family dog.  After much discussion (about an hour), we decided on a labradoodle.  They don't shed, they are very smart, and love people and dogs..actually they love anything that is breathing.  We piled into the car and headed to Caroll County, where we observed the litter of puppies screech across the yard.  We picked Lucy because she couldn't stop wagging her tail.
The ride home was interesting-she threw up and drooled..obviously never been in a car before.  That mighta been the first sign.
So, onto the life of a puppy.  Here is a small list of items consumed by our lovable dog: 12 shoes, 5 pairs of underwear, couple of pillows, a camera, speakers for an ipod, hats, the couch, Alan's rose bushes, and various library books. 
She is now approaching 3 years old and has been a little more controlled in her habits.  However, she has moments of devil possession in our absence-yesterday she ate my shoe.  And 2 weeks ago, she ate Maddie's 265 dollar retainer.  Things are looking up!

Dare I be Hopeful?

It's April and its baseball season!! Oh joy.  I am a long time orioles fan..dating back to the late 70's.  I spent many afternoons at memorial Stadium cheering on Rick Dempsey, Ken Singleton, and Eddie Murray.  I looked forward to Earl Weaver's rants, especially when he threw his hats at umps.I had a mad crush on Jim Palmer-even bought him an orange juice at the Owl Bar one afternoon.  But alas, all came to a screeching halt as the o's dived in oblivion.  Years of losing seasons and an owner who won't loosen the purse strings to buy some talent. 
This year, for the first time, I am somewhat optimisitc. A 4-0 start with a great line up-actually picked up decent talent in the off season.  They came out of the gate at full speed-giving up only one run in each of the games.  Please oh great oriole gods..let me be excited about baseball again!

fools unite

Ah..April Fools Day.  A favorite holiday among many.I can attest to the jokes played on me in the past.  One morning i arrived to work and found leave slips from everyone in the branch..all for long term leave-2 months or more.  I had a moment of panic..then wised up.  On another year, I had 2 staff members annouce they were pregnant.  Think they were both very happy to say it was a joke.
My daughter headed off to school today with Spanxs shorts under her clothes-says you run the risk of someone pulling your pants down in school. Really???  I thought of calling my son at school to tell him we won the lottery, but why pull his hopes up only to dash them as he works diligently to keep those grades on track? 
And I loved what a local radio station did one year.  They changed their format to all women's music, even used just female DJ's. They changed their website over night and now called themselves WOMB. I really thought it had gone in another direction, much to my sadness. Ha! Got me again...what do they say "fool me once..fool me again, shame on me".