Trouble In Mind

devo in the dna

2006-09-05T22:28:00.000-07:00

After Garrett's football practice ended tonight, we got into the car to drive home. New York Dolls were playing on the cd. G asked, 'Mama, can you put on some DEVO'? Someday he will hate what I like, but for now - we are D E V O !

a braille playboy, tom waits and a missing monkey

2006-08-25T22:55:00.000-07:00

Back from a lovely whirlwind trip to Nashville Tennessee to see Tom Waits perform at the historical (and extremely cool - I can't believe I finally got there) Ryman Auditorium. The show was what you'd expect... genius.

Before the show we wandered around near the Ryman. Had some BBQ, souvenir shopped (Ernest Tubb matchbooks were a nice find), and window shopped outside the Hatch Show Print shop where they had posted a 'NO TOM WAITS POSTERS' on the door. There was a guy right outside the Hatch Show Print shop, charging folks $5.00 to take a picture with his shirt & diaper clad monkey. It was a pretty large monkey - like baboon size. I had left my camera at the hotel since the tickets stated explicitly 'NO CAMERAS OR RECORDING DEVICES'. I sure didn't want to get turned out, a taxi ride away from our hotel - stuck w/a camera escort that was banned admittance. Turns out the security personnel didn't even check my pocketbook so camera could have come along. We figured that we'd see the monkey the next day & could have our picture taken with the dapper monkey then...

The Ryman was beautiful and I felt good sitting in the wooden pews. It was easy to imagine folks sitting there decades ago, watching Hank Williams perform...

The next day we headed over to the Country Music Hall of Fame. It was a great museum. Honestly, I kind of expected it would be configured like this: puny bit of the old country music I like, and then a gargantuan amount on the new pop country crap that clogs the airways. You know: add a fiddle (electric) and you can call that song country! Gratefully, I was wrong. The focus of the museum was actually THE history of country music. Brilliant curators. Very tasteful.

Below are just a few of the many photos I took. There are some more photos from the Nashville trip on my Flickr site.

No death date yet on the Buck Owens plaque.

Joe Maphis' double neck.

Johnny Horton's shirt.

Rose Maddox's boots.

Nudie Cohen's sewing machine. Just imagine the suits it has sewn. There was a nude pin-up shelacked on his sewing table.

Gram Parson's suit - yes that suit! Right before my eyes. Crazy! (no flash allowed in the museum, so photos are dark).

I had to show another picture of that suit.

The main exhibit was: I Can't Stop Loving You: Ray Charles & Country Music. I really dig Ray Charles & thankfully saw him perform at the Hollywood Bowl back in 1996; so this exhibit was a real treat for me. Something about Mr. Ray Charles Braille Playboy really tickled me...

A very quick trip jammed full with all sorts of goodness. I guess if there was one thing I was disappointed in, it was that we never found the monkey. My advice, when you have the chance to take your photo with a monkey, try to be ready.

where has all the summer gone?

2006-08-19T19:42:00.000-07:00

Overdue with the posting... The summer has gone by lickety split. The trip back East was wonderful. We left the heat wave behind us & enjoyed much nicer weather. Even a nice summer storm at the reunion. The rain did cut into our various (horsehoes, quoits [pictured below], shuffleboard, knockout) tournaments, but it was a lovely storm anyway. On our daily 6:30am hikes (truth be told, Garrett & I only made two of the three early morning hikes), we saw deer and the orange newts I've posted above. My Uncle (the family Patriarch) led us in some rousing Simon Says games. I found the game especially hard at 6:30am and before my coffee. The same Uncle also passed along a game that my Grandparents played with my Mom & Aunts & Uncles, when they were kids. The first kid to spot a deer gets a quarter. When the next kid sees a deer, the first kid has to pass along the quarter & so on & so on. I am a sucker for simple and sweet family traditions. It was a great joy for me to see these games get passed along to my son.

On our first night at the reunion, a firefly landed on Garrett's forehead - he smooshed it away, but thankfully didn't do permanent damage. His cousin was able to tweak the wing back into place, and off the bug flew. Two of my hopes (fireflies & summer storms) were realized for us on the trip. Unfortunately I did not spank my Aunt Ruth at horseshoes. My game was pure stink. I did really enjoy shuffleboard (as did Garrett) and quoits. Must get a quoit set & bring that tradition out West. I saw a beach set in addition to the traditional iron set, online recently. Soon...

After the reunion we headed back to Williamsport - my Mom's hometown. We had a great time at the Little League Museum and were able to check out the Little League World Series compound. I had known that Williamsport's big claim to fame was hosting the Little League World Series. What I didn't realize (having not been back for twenty six years) was that the L.L. compound butts up to my Grandparents former property. The stomping ground of my Mom and her siblings.

After the museum I got to go back to the house my Mom grew up in (she was born there too). I had a lot of memories come flooding back in the best way. 'Did we put a table in the garage to eat supper?' 'Did Grammie have a little dog?' 'Is that the garden I ran over with Pop Pop's tractor?' All answers were 'yes' and it felt good to visit the property and revisit so many memories. The land has been subdivided and much has changed, but it was nice to see how much had stayed the same.

We had a great hoagie dinner in a bar/restaurant in town. I had forgotten all about smoking in restaurants since it's been banned out here for so long. After dinner Garrett hit the motherload of fireflies, and spent some fun time with Grandma catching them. The photos I took didn't turn out - no glow - and using the macro on a quick moving bug made matters worse. But, he had the firefly experience I had hoped for. He said 'Mama, it looks like there are stars flashing in the yard'.

I was sad to leave my family, but it is always nice to come home... And in another three years we'll be together again.

vacation wishes

2006-07-20T15:30:00.000-07:00

Last years summer vacation to Oregon was all about picking and eating wild blackberries. Coming home with stains on every piece of clothing we wore, proved the trip successful.

This years vacation is all about fireflies. Here's wishing Garrett can catch some - keep them in a jar for a spell - releasing them before bedtime. Hopefully it isn't too late in the season to see them. After all, the state insect of Pennsylvania is the firefly - that has to work in our favor.

And while I'm wishing, how about a nice eastern summer storm with some of that wild lightning? Not that wimpy stuff we get in southern California.

hectic in a handbasket

2006-07-18T21:52:00.000-07:00

How is it possible that I am busier now that Garrett is out of school? We have no homework - things should be simpler. Somehow they are not. There was that crazy week of football camp: drop him off at camp in the morning - pick him up at lunch when camp ended - then take him to his regular summer camp while I finish my work day. It was hectic, but worth it. Garrett loved loved loved football camp. He was really bummed it only lasted a week.

So far it has been a fun summer. I've discovered that eight year olds are actually easier with multiples. Having a friend over to play (or come along on an outing) is nicer for everyone. They keep each other occupied & I have guilt free time to clean or pay bills - you know the crapitty crap that you never seem to have time for.

This past weekend we hit the science center (the photo above is of Garrett & his friend, lifting a 5,000 pound truck). The timing of the visit was good because while Garrett & I are off vacationing next week (DC & PA), he will miss his summer camp field trip to the science center.

Frankly he hasn't been too into the science center since I took him to see Mission to Mir in IMAX 3D & it scared the bejesus out of him. He was four when he saw it, and couldn't sleep alone in his bed after that for a year. Not sure if you've seen it, but nothing scary happens. No astronauts getting burned up in space - no alien invasions. Just a documentary about the space station - chock full of the sort of standard, silly acrobatics you expect with zero gravity. It just goes to show you that you can be so careful about what your child watches & then get blindsided when something so seemingly innocuous turns into the bogeyman. To this day - four years after the Mission to Mir Incident (MMI), Garrett still does not want to see an IMAX movie. He did power through last summer and see one about Animals, but it wasn't 3D and the peer pressure from his summer camp cronies, won out. There has been some cool IMAX movies since the MMI but his first reaction is still an immediate 'No thanks Mama, maybe next time'.

Some extra loveliness at exposition park: the rose smelled so lovely - the garden is in full bloom. Hence the obligatory macro rose photos below. I am not a big fan of the close up flower shots - they are so overdone, but there I was, loving my camera, setting up the macro, so pleased that the dew showed up in the photos. Hopefully somewhere in the park, there was someone who was secretly mocking me: 'Oh geez, another close up of a flower...boring'.

Looking into the history of exposition park, it turns out the rose garden used to be a race track (horses, dogs, even camels!) according to Wikipedia. When the neighborhood became more densely populated with families, the racetrack fell out of style and the rose garden was planted in place of the track.

So off we head for a fun family reunion. I am really looking forward to the late night games of Hearts and the ever so competitive Horseshoe tournaments. (Aunt Ruth look out - I am hoping to finally beat you this time). And of course the opportunity to catch up with my family. We are spread out all over the North American continent and the reunions allow us to get to know each other again.

amy sedaris didn't even lift her dress...

2006-06-28T22:15:00.000-07:00

I saw Strangers with Candy - The Movie the other night. I quite enjoyed myself as did the rest of the audience. I laughed a lot - I thought the translation from cable TV to movie was great - of course with Stephen Colbert, Paul Dinello & Amy Sedaris - how could it NOT be funny?
My friend got some schmancy tickets with the amazing bonus of Amy Sedaris showing up for a Q & A. And, the bonus had a bonus as Paul Dinello was there as well! Holy holy - what a treat! Of course there was the usual lame audience questions - but it was fun to hear Ms. Sedaris address these crazy people. At one point she actually asked a woman 'How many drinks have you had?'. The AFI hostess who conducted the Q & A, was obviously pregnant. Ms. Sedaris asked her 'Are you keeping the baby?'. It was the first thing she said when the Q & A began. BA! So all in all the evening was a terrific amount of fun - my only real disappointment (look, I expected people to ask lame questions so that was no surprise) was that Ms. Amy Sedaris sat very ladylike in her directors chair. When I've seen her on Late Night, she usually lifts her skirt a bit as she settles & re-settles in her seat.

the soul is in the bowl

2006-06-15T21:37:00.000-07:00

Dig what I spotted in the frozen aisle at my local grocery store tonight!

The soul is definitely in the bowl - it tasted pretty good. Thanks Smokey!

marquee prank

2006-06-14T17:45:00.000-07:00

Perhaps the pranksters ran out of time ('leam' should have been 'lame'). It happened lickety split... When Garrett and I left home to take a walk around the block, the sign was 'normal'. When we returned from the walk, 'learn' had become 'leam'.

a horse walks into a bar...

2006-06-13T21:40:00.000-07:00

Bartender says to the horse 'Why the long face"?

I chaperoned Garrett's class to the equestrian center last week. He wanted to be the official photographer so I have about fifty photos just like these first two:

Top sign says: Needle collectors at end of barn" and the lower one says "Dump manure & shavings at end of barn".

I thought this one was neat looking:

And we got to see some of the Budweiser horses up close - mighty large!

even padre pio (jr.) showed up at the dance

2006-05-30T22:35:00.000-07:00

My sons school held its annual Spring Dance last week. This event has been going on for nearly fifty years. Each grade level rehearses a dance or two then they put on a show for us parents. I cry every year. These kids work so hard and then throw themselves into the performances. The oldest kids are fifth graders so they are all still young enough to really get into it.

This year involved an unexpected treat. There was this little boy (not yet school age) who was dressed as a monk - you know, brown robe, rope belt, padre deal. He would run out on 'stage' between each dance number and bop around in his monk costume. Most kids who are into dress up go with super heroes or princess', not this little one.

I wish I could've gotten better photos of this miniature Padre Pio. He was out there running around, getting the stigmata (okay the stigmata part is just a fantasy of mine but still) then his Mom would shoo him off the 'stage'. Aren't the sneakers just the perfect touch?

In doing a little Padre Pio research (click on this posts title for a nice little Padre Pio link - including a stigmata photo!) I found this tidbit:

Interesting fact about the Roman Catholic Church: There have been a total of 266 popes in the almost 2000 years since St. Peter and none of the popes has ever experienced mental impairment because of old age! In the past 229 years there have been 15 popes, with an average age at death of about 79 years. Ten of these men have lived to be over 80 years old.

And it makes me wonder how on earth anyone could prove this 'interesting fact' about 'mental impairment'. I guess I just need to have a little faith...

he shares a birthday with bob dylan

2006-05-24T22:41:00.000-07:00

Today is my nephew's nineteenth birthday. He was always a handful, but not a bad handful. He was a really smart kid from go and so lovable. Some kids are harder to connect with, but not my nephew. He was fun to hang out with. I remember taking a hike with him when I visited right after his little sister was born. He was around four years old. As we walked he'd find trap door spider nests (are they called nests?). He'd say, 'Look Aunt J.J'. & show me how the trap would open, being careful not to damage the spiders handiwork.

More recent memories I have, are of him playing on his high school basketball team. He was always naturally athletic - really good at all sports. His coach almost never used him (really - hardly ever). My nephew just kept his head in the game & was always the first to congratulate a teammate for a good play. Or he'd try to lift up a teammate who was having a rough game, giving him a pep talk - keeping things focused.

Me writing in the past tense makes it sound like he is dead. He isn't but he has been struggling with a drug problem for the past five years. It seems crazy to say, how could a nineteen year old have a five year old drug habit? He was raised by two of the most loving people you could imagine. Up front, honest people who faced these issues head on. Some parents might deny the truth, or play the 'he'll grow out of it' game. Not my sister & brother in law. I remember them telling me when my nephew turned twelve, 'He's going to try every drug out there'. And I remember being pretty mad at them for saying so. I felt like they were pigeon holing him. But they just were facing the truth. They faced it before I was ready to.

My sister and her husband tried everything possible to help him. I mean everything. Moving from a neighborhood that had kids who were a bad influence, to a home in the middle of a citrus grove (no neighbors). Sending him away to schools that specialize in helping kids like my nephew. Psychiatrists, psychologists. You name it, they tried it. It sometimes would work for a while, but eventually he'd start using again. It became apparent that until my nephew wanted help, he'd keep living the way he had been - using.

He is now living out of state and I worry about him dying or getting sick far from home, or him ending up in jail. He can be such an amazing young man. I remember visiting them around a year ago (he was clean at the time) and he hung out with my son & I while we played ping pong. He goofed around with us & we had a great/fun conversation. I guess the fact that he is capable of being such a truly neat person makes this whole mess even tougher. I mean, it is much easier to 'write-off' a schmucky loser of a person. Which isn't to say that he hasn't done plenty of schmucky things...

I just want to shake him though you know. I want him to get over it, stop using, come home, be safe, stay alive, stop breaking his parents (and the rest of us who love him) hearts. And I am sad at him and really mad at him. I understand that a drug addict is incapable of thinking about anyone but themselves, but that doesn't make me miss him less. And it doesn't make me worry less or want to write him off. I want him to wake up, get help and come home for good. I want him to mean it when he says he is ready to stop. Then I want him to stop. He has so many who love him and are ready to help. But the help is meaningless until he wants it for himself. So yeah, it is his birthday and I am thinking about him. And I love him and am mad at him and just want him to be safe and stay alive.

timothy mcsweeney rejected me

2006-05-22T19:25:00.000-07:00

I sent McSweeney's a submission for their "Open Letters to People or Entities Who Are Unlikely to Respond" feature and was politely and promptly rejected. I thought I would go ahead and lay it to rest here, as I had mentioned (back in March) that my cat is a cutter.

Dear Sparkles,

Please stop cutting yourself. It hurts you. Your chin looks disgusting, and you have to wear that cone that we both hate.

When my niece rescued you from that convenience store parking lot you were a real mess. You settled in though, and seemed grateful to stay inside and have your food and water provided. I gave you a clean litter box and an adequate amount of brushing and petting. I admit, I actually wanted another dog, but you came around at the right time (when former dog was on last leg) and as my Mom gently pointed out, cats are easier in an apartment. Not having to go home everyday to walk you on my lunch hour sealed the deal.

I have come around to accepting (not quite embracing) being a cat owner. You have taught me a great deal about myself. Sometimes I want petting and sometimes I just want to sit on the couch facing away from company too. I'm OK, you're OK, right?

Things were fine between us for a while. But then you started screaming all night long like a cat in heat. But you weren't in heat because I saw to that when I dropped you off at the spay and neuter clinic. I thought you missed the outdoor part of your life so I let you go out and in. This didn't make you any quieter and you kept getting beat up, so I made you indoor only again. I figured you would be safer and healthier.

Then I came home to bloody footsteps. You had cut your foot on a knife in the dish drying rack. First of all, you aren't allowed on the counters, and if you would follow the rules you wouldn't have hurt yourself. Now that I think about it, maybe that was a suicide attempt. It would follow your other neuroses'. It was very difficult for us to get through the stitches healing, bandage changes and the like, but we did it. Then you started cutting.

What is wrong with you?! You relentlessly scratch at your chin with your back feet. You scratch so much that you make big sores and I have to make you wear the cone. You hate the cone and I say 'just cause' in hating the cone. It is hard to eat while you wear it. I would imagine it is uncomfortable. You can't bathe yourself and cats like to bathe.

My reasons for hating the cone are quite different from your reasons. I hate the cone because when you are looking around in the litter box for what needs burying, you inadvertently dip the cone in your waste. I don't really care for the cat poo decoration, and I certainly don't like you jumping up on my bed in the middle of the night with poo stuck on the perimeter of your cone. It is smelly, unsanitary and just plain repulsive.

Please stop cutting yourself. You used to be such a pretty cat. You've always been crazy, but at least before the cutting you were pretty. We can get through this, but you need to take the first step and stop cutting. Let's get rid of the cone for good.

Sincerely, J.A. Johnson

tom waits and robert wilson broke my ankle

2006-05-19T00:07:00.000-07:00

The posters advertising The Black Rider are up all over Los Angeles. I am sure the show will be amazing. My reaction is bittersweet when I see them though.

Back in 2002 I had a lovely sixth row center single ticket to see Woyzeck (Woyzeck was another Robert Wilson/Tom Waits collaboration, as is Black Rider). I had fought and fought with the now former husband about me seeing the show. We fought because he thought $72.00 was a stupid amount of money to spend on theater. We fought because he would have to watch our son. We fought because my needs and wants were unimportant to him. The fight came after I had bought my single ticket though because I knew if I asked, I would have lost the battle against his angry 'no'.

I was quarter past excited the night of the show. I think my last night out to see something I had interest in was in 1999, so I was long overdue to see something that nurtured my needs. I remember getting quite dolled up. Flower in my hair, nails painted red, and off I went to UCLA for my night out! I paid my $7.00 to the parking lot attendant, threw my truck in park and headed for the theater. As I was walking (briskly because I was so thrilled to be out doing something I wanted) I missed seeing the speed bump in my path. I stubbed the top of the speed bump with my right foot which somehow sent me flying. I mean, flying - no feet on the ground flying. I caught my fall with my left foot, fishtailed my leg inside of my engineer boot and heard a nasty twisting/snapping/crunching sound. I remember watching my lucite purse noisily bounce and skid ahead of me while I sat in the pile of my landing. There were about fifteen or so people around me, heading to the same show. They sort of collectively gasped and walked towards me. A man asked if I was alright and I told him "I think I broke my ankle". The crowd stepped back a few feet. A lady asked if I needed some help, while another yanked on her dates arm saying 'Hurry, we'll miss the show'. I asked nice lady if she could help me stand up. I wanted to see if I could put any weight on the ankle. At that point I really still hoped to see the show. Nice lady helped me to my feet and I found I could put a little bit of weight on it, which seemed like a good sign. I asked if she could help get me to my seat & she obliged. Off we went with me putting most of my weight on her. This went on for about fifty yards or so when I realized that there was no way I could make it to my seat, much less sit through a two hour play. I gave her my sixth row center seat (she was there alone too) and told her to take my seat and give away hers since my ticket was better. She was really hesitant, but what else could I do? I had visions of trying to sit through the show, then the pain kicks in and I have to get help to get me out of there. I hobbled back to my truck which thankfully was an automatic & started driving back to Burbank to my assigned hospital. Somewhere along Sunset Boulevard the pain kicked in along with my panic. I called my (now ex) husband and remember screaming about the pain and that I was sure I couldn't make it to Burbank from West Los Angeles. He told me later that after seeing me bust the same ankle years before on a dirtbike (I had to ride the bike back to our campsite & didn't go to the doctors until the next day) and recover from a c-section when our son was born, staying pretty calm both times, that he knew I had really hurt myself. I u-turned on Sunset and headed for UCLA Medical Center.

I had broken both tibula and fibula and torn a ligament between the two. Surgery was required to put in the hardware to set the bones. Three months on crutches because I could not put any weight on the ankle until the ligament healed. After the three months, another surgery (minor) to remove the screw that was holding the ligament in place. Then I was allowed to put some weight on the ankle and begin my physical therapy. In those three months I figured out that vicodin was a friend and an enemy. It sure helped the pain but it also made me depressed and constipated. I have always been a think the best/be positive type of gal, but on vicodin I felt like 'I'll never get better". I had to remind myself that it wasn't life threatening, just some broken bones, and to get over it...

A couple of years after the initial injury, the hardware started bothering me. It was limiting the movement of my ankle. Bumping my ankle with the hardware against anything was quite uncomfortable. Another surgery to remove all the hardware and the healing continues.

My Mom said recently, that breaking my ankle was what helped me (and her) realize that I had married the wrong man. I saw more of his true unkind self when he was upset that he had to pick up the slack at home. He'd say things like "How much longer until you can drive yourself to work"? I remember him being mad at me for having to pick up the groceries at the store which I had shopped for online. My Mom stayed with us for a week after the first surgery. She helped with the cooking, cleaning, shopping and all other household chores. (Soon to be ex) husband chewed her out for 'doing the laundry wrong'. My Mom had some inkling before this incident, that I had married a not so nice guy. His attitude towards her for helping us cemented her beliefs. Breaking my ankle was a blessing. When I told my Mom my reasons for leaving, she had seen firsthand how critical and unkind he was. Instead of my announcement being a big surprise to my Mom, it was a 'what took you so long'.

When the doctors asked if I wanted to keep the hardware, I figured my son would want to see it. He was very interested in the x-rays, so I thought seeing the hardware would be neat for him and it was. But I kept the hardware as a souvenir. Not of the missed play at UCLA, but as a souvenir of how a broken ankle helped rescue me.

too ornery to die

2006-05-17T22:02:00.000-07:00

George Jones' show last Saturday was a real treat. He is still struggling with some bronchitis, but is quite spirited. At one point during the show my friend leaned over and said 'We don't have to worry about George Jones anymore. He is too ornery to die'.

nick cave wrote a screenplay & I celebrated my third anniversary with david sedaris

2006-05-01T22:39:00.000-07:00

I heard on public radio that The Proposition will be playing at the NuArt in Santa Monica (or is that West L.A. but on Santa Monica?) - opening May 5th. I saw this the other night and liked it quite a lot. Intense. Violent. A rape scene which wasn't too graphic, but still rape & hard to watch. A period piece western that takes place in Australia. Nick Cave wrote the screenplay. Guy Pierce plays the lead & was on hand for a question & answer deal after the movie. I was impressed and surprised by the questions being asked (yes some dopes, but mostly decent questions). I left feeling lucky to have been able to be a part of it (er, to watch the movie & listen in on the Q & A - I kept my mouth shut).

It was a busy week all around. The night after the movie I hit my third annual David Sedaris reading (& another Q & A) at Royce Hall / UCLA. Each year it gets better which seems impossible. Now that I have seen him three years running, I feel like I can compare the shows. This years Q & A seemed almost like we were all at a dinner party with David Sedaris as our guest. And that perhaps our guest had tied on a few because he seemed especially loose, meant in a very complimentary way I promise. Just loose enough. Each year he suggests a book (and has many recommendations posted on his website: http://www.barclayagency.com/sedaris.html - I tried inserting a link but each time I tried publishing the post it lost everything so I am irritated, and you get to copy and paste - my apologies). I haven't read this years suggestion so I can't comment on that book, but I really liked last years suggestion, 'Random Family'. I especially love when he explains why he wants us all to read whatever book he brings to share. He is so humble as he talks about the other book & author. One of those moments in life when there is sincerity and sincere flattery and humility.

I leave his shows feeling so good. Which is the exact opposite way I feel when I shop at a bookstore. I feel sad and overwhelmed by all the books I won't ever read. Books I won't read because I don't know about them or there isn't time (I mean right now I have so many in the rotation: I just finished Beware of God Stories, I am in the middle of a George Jones autobiography, still reading 'The Kangchenjunga Adventure' - that one is so good that I am reading it as slowly as possible because I will miss it so much when it ends. And there are others that I am in the midst of & so many more begging to be started.

So, happy anniversary David Sedaris, your gift of sharing books you love couldn't be any sweeter.

no gilmore girls for me this week

2006-04-25T09:50:00.000-07:00

Garrett's school encourages us to participate in the annual "No TV Week". It is a great excuse for us to do some things we don't normally do. Last night we worked on a new paint by numbers (a cool rocketship picture). Garrett learned to blow a bubble with his gum! This is a huge feat for any kid - and he has been trying for awhile. He and I had a burping contest - he won but I came close. (Yes Mom, I told him that when you come to visit today that if we burp we have to just say 'excuse me'. No whooping & hollering, no victory dances). Another highlight was that he & I spent a ton of time taking turns reading poems from Where the Sidewalk Ends. That was one of my favorite books when I was a kid. In 2004 they published a 30th Anniversary edition (which I gave him for Christmas that year). It is really satisfying to sit with him & read these poems that meant so much to me when I was a kid. Most of the poems are pretty silly but a few are sad (remember the one with the kid who collects all sorts of things & people just call it junk). Then Garrett & I talked about how poems can be happy or sad, serious or silly or anything in between.

I am a realist & I know that completely giving up TV won't work (Garrett & I both like it too much) but not watching it this week is a good reminder to save time for the rest of things that go on in life. (And before you tisk tisk me, TV watching is limited on both how much & what shows Garrett can watch. We read together most every night. Do homework together & usually take a walk together each night besides bike riding, card playing, lego building, park exploring & the like). So there...
And even after Garrett goes to bed, I feel like I need to stick with the no TV plan as well. No Gilmore Girls or Dodger games for me this week. When Garrett goes to his Dad's this weekend all bets are off though. Bring on The Sopranos & Big Love. I do not have TiVo (I know, how do I survive?) so I am at the mercy of airdates.

parents never lie

2006-04-22T09:10:00.000-07:00

Garrett lost another tooth! It was his first upper front tooth. I've been joking with him, saying that he has 'summer teeth'. Some are there and some are not. He doesn't always appreciate the depth of my hilariousness.

We put the tooth in a 'fancy velvet pouch' (a freebie I got with some fake pearls) to hide under his pillow & off to sleep he goes. I realize I don't have any dollar bills - just a roll of quarters - my laundry money. I count out $3.00 in quarters (the lower front teeth were worth $2.00 each but I figure that upper front teeth have to be worth more). I swap out the tooth for the money & replace the velvet pouch under the pillow. When I woke up the next morning Garrett was in my bed. He has learned that if he wakes me up when he tries to come into my room, he'll get sent back to his bed. He has honed his sneaky skills and is now quite stealth on his middle of the night missions. I woke him up and asked him if the tooth fairy came. He sleepily said 'no' then got this 'ah ha' look on his face & reached under his pillow (he brings his pillow on his stealth missions to my room) & brought out the velvet pouch. I thought it was so funny that he brought the pouch along on his mission, but didn't wake up enough to want to peak inside in the middle of the night. He made three piles of four quarters & told me he got three dollars! Later he found a stray quarter so now he thinks the tooth fairy brought him $3.25, but really, he got three bucks even.

So while he was getting dressed for school & I was brushing my teeth, Garrett was telling me how his friends at school were saying that the Tooth Fairy & Santa weren't real. I rinsed & spit, then asked him what he thought of that. He said "Mom, I told my friends that there was NO way your parents would lie to you. That is why the Tooth Fairy and Santa have to be real".

barry bonds booed at dodger stadium... again

2006-04-17T20:54:00.000-07:00

A last minute invitation on Friday night offering free tickets to the game was a pleasant surprise. The rain wasn't a deterrent with the free ticket offer either - even if the Dodgers were playing the Giants. I usually try to avoid the big rivalry games because lame Dodger fans are just that much lamer when the Giants are in town. But free tickets (especially nice loge seats above the visitors dugout) are free tickets...

So after a nearly two hour rain delay, the field was uncovered & the players take the field to warm up. As soon as Bonds makes an appearance, I notice a guy sitting nearby, flipping Bonds the bird (both hands). Notice above in my Bonds photo, how far away he is from us in the Loge section? What was Mister Double Bird Flipper thinking? No class. And it made me relieved that my seven year old son wasn't there to witness the bad sportsmanship that seems to sum up a lot of the Dodger fan base. Look, I am not square & I have a mouth that can make a sailor blush, but I just think a baseball game isn't the place for it.

Believe me, I get it... all the recent scandal with Bonds & steroids. And really I hate to see Ruth's & Aaron's records busted by someone hopped on up steroids. But I think that this scandal is ever so convenient for the noisy & drunk Dodger fan who gets off on booing. Booing & chanting "Giants suck, Giants suck..." anytime they aren't off getting another beer or being distracted by the countless beach balls being tossed around. I really hate the beach ball scene. Though as much as I hate the beach balls, I will admit that when the folks in the left field pavilion were tossing around an inflatable pill bottle Friday night, I cracked-up. I do have a sense of humor along with my good sportsmanship leanings & my corny idea that you go to a game to watch the game & not watch beach balls.

Here's another example of lame Dodger fans: We LOVED Shawn Green - loved him. He gets traded to Arizona (he didn't even want to get traded). Now every time Green comes back with the Diamondbacks to Dodger stadium, he gets booed & heckled like you wouldn't believe. At that point I started hoping that Shawn gets hits just to upset the dimwitted Dodger fans.

Back to Bonds... For the record I was not rooting for him to get a hit & I did think he may have needed a cane out there in left field. But I wasn't going to make a scene about it.

Good sportsmanship: Vin Scully gets it. He can compliment an opposing teams great play. He can be a Dodger fan and still have class. All in all though, the rain & then the rain delay kept away a lot of the usual Dodger fan riff raff. It was fun to be at the stadium watching a game after midnight... Yeah, yeah, yeah, Dodgers lost.

dyeing brown eggs makes for some interesting and not so pastel colors

2006-04-12T22:02:00.000-07:00

So, oh at just about 5:00pm on Tuesday evening I was finishing up at work & I realized that since Garrett will be at his Dad's on Easter weekend, that I better hop to it (pun intended) & get the egg dyeing underway. I figured out our schedule: Tuesday night - hard boil the eggs, Wednesday night - color the eggs. (G is with his Dad Thursday through Sunday). I made a quick grocery list for supplies needed: vinegar, food coloring (I have not attempted to use 'natural dyes' using beets & such - someday), eggs... No I just bought eggs last weekend so we're good on eggs.

I get Garrett off to bed Tuesday evening & get some water on the stove to boil. At about 10:00pm I take the eggs out of the fridge & suddenly remember 'The eggs are brown!' The organic, cage free eggs I have are BROWN & may not work so well if you are trying to make pastel colored eggs. After the involuntary 'Oh crap' I quickly move on to "Garrett will understand that we are going to call this dyeing brown egg thing, our 'Easter experiment 2006'". And thankfully Garrett rolled along with it. When I told him Wednesday morning about our egg 'situation', he was just gung ho to know that we'd be dyeing eggs later that night.

We got going on the dyeing & I think they turned out pretty cool. Definitely not your typical easter pastel, but some groovy colors. Oh & it was G's decision to not do anything tricky with the egg dyeing. He wanted to just simply dye them - one color. Sometimes simple is better.

thank you mr. terry zwigoff

2006-04-11T14:46:00.000-07:00

Last night I was lucky enough to see the new Daniel Clowes/Terry Zwigoff movie: Art School Confidential. Really enjoyable - definitely recommend. I am somewhat newer to the comic world - unless you count my long time subscription to the East Village Inky - a zine that has some hilaaarious drawings throughout each issue. Anyhoo, besides the Daniel Clowes element, Terry Zwigoff directs. I really liked the three other Zwigoff flicks I've seen: Crumb, Ghost World & Bad Santa.

So the climax to the evening was a Q & A with Mr. Terry Zwigoff himself. Now I have been to other Q & A's before & the one thing you can always count on is that most of the people asking the questions have nothing to say - they just like getting to talk in front of a captive audience - schmucks! Before it starts, the emcee announces that the Q & A will be taped for the DVD release. I rolled my eyes & grabbed my friends arm & said "Lovely, now people will ask more inane questions". Mr. Zwigoff started off with this great story about a Q & A at Sundance & how people are indeed dumb in these circumstances. Then he said something like 'The smart people always keep quiet'. I thought it was brilliant & perhaps he was doing some verbal crowd control because for the most part people seemed to be on their best/smartest behavior with the questions/comments.

I had wanted to include a picture of the poster for the movie (the one with the Clowes illustration) - but couldn't find any... Apparently they aren't making them available - yet? Maybe when the movie opens in May.

Irrelevant side note: Today at work in the client parking lot was a convertible BMW with a license plate that read "BONG".

seven year old artist

2006-04-05T22:54:00.000-07:00

Garrett's second grade class has been studying art. He brought home the picture shown above & I was pleased as punch. I told him I really dug it & asked if I could hang it up at work (he obliged). Then he deadpanned, "Mom, it is Abstract Expressionism". Another satisfying parental moment...

dear mr. jeff koons...

2006-04-04T19:41:00.000-07:00

Garrett (my seven year old son) & I spent a recent afternoon at MOCA intending to see the Masters of American Comics exhibit. He wasn't as into the comic exhibit as I had expected (though I really dug getting to see all this original artwork from: Harvey Kurtzman, R. Crumb, Art Spiegelman & Chris Ware among others). Garrett did however really like a lot of the contemporary art. It was a very satisfying parental moment - having a conversation with him about what he liked & didn't like & why. We both picked the same painting as 'our favorite of the day'. I wish I would have written down the artists name & the title of the painting. It was this lovely painting of a birds nest with three robin eggs - the perfect shade of blue. Leaning against the nest was a pair of brass knuckles. I'll get a hold of MOCA & find out who painted such a lovely picture. Note: kids under twelve are FREE - adults only eight bucks, though I really should purchase a membership...

After checking out the museum, we head to the museum shop. I was stunned to find a Jeff Koons 'Balloon Dog' for sale. No, not the original perfectly massive, room-sized version, but a miniature $600.00 limited number, Balloon Dog (blue). I sort of lost my breath for a moment...

See 'Rabbit' is actually my favorite Jeff Koons piece. I was lucky enough to catch the "Jasper Johns to Jeff Koons: Four Decades of Art from the Broad Collection" at LACMA back when Garrett was around three years of age. This was his first trip to an art museum. Seeing the massive scale of 'Balloon Dog' right in front of me that day, made me feel relieved. Relieved because I knew that I would never have a space in any home I would ever live in that would have enough room for 'Balloon Dog'. As if the size alone (nevermind the price - ha) would keep me from this piece of art. Relief came from knowing I could just cross that piece of art off of my "need to have" list. And then I saw 'Rabbit'...

'Rabbit' is obtainable - size wise anyway. It stands about three feet tall. Do-able. Wouldn't fit in with my ikea/pottery barn "decor" but size-wise it would fit. I left feeling quite sad that I would never have a 'Rabbit' of my own. And I have thought ever since that Mr. Jeff Koons should make miniature versions of these pieces. They would both fit in a regular home & be affordable (cough).

So there I am in the MOCA giftshop staring at what I had dreamt of all these years... And I started thinking... What could I hock so that I could buy my own 'Balloon Dog'. Me, a normally rational & tight purse stringed single Mom trying to figure out some way to take this baby home - now - today! Wrap it up in your schmancy MOCA gift bag & hand it over. It took me a day or so to get over it. And just to help get it out of my system, I did watch a couple of auctions on eBay for the same limited edition 'Balloon Dog'. All going for mid fives to six hundred. Oh, any sugar daddies out there reading this: You now know the way to my heart. It is not diamonds or gold - it is a pretty little stainless steel piece of perfection.

Addendum: since the dust has settled after my not impulsive but wanted to be impulsive time in the MOCA gift store... I have decided that $600.00 'Balloon Dog' no longer tempts me. I am on the look out for a miniature version of 'Rabbit'. Oh please oh please Mr. Koons - won't you tempt me & my budget?

dodger blue turns hospital scrub green

2006-04-03T08:48:00.000-07:00

I made some cookies in honor of the Dodgers home opener & ran out of blue food coloring while making the frosting. Shifted my efforts to a turquoise color, instead ended up with a "scrubs" green. The pukey green color did not affect the taste though. My cream cheese frosting has been perfected after a few tries.

Confessional: I went & saw the movie "Stoned" about former Rolling Stones member Brian Jones (RIP). I liked it okay. Though I really could have done without the White Stripes song in the middle of the flick. I mean the movie took place in the sixties! (I know - White Stripes were covering a song from the era but still - couldn't they just play the original?). And am I the only one who is tired of the everywhere you turn White Stripes? But back to my confessional: Movie ends, credits start rolling & the man a few rows in front of me decides to stand for all of the credits. I know I am a bit of a weirdo - wanting to watch/read the credits - but c'mon, this is Los Angeles - a lot of folks read the credits. I didn't want to make a scene in the theater so I just sat there seething. When I left the theater, 'stand up during credits man' held the door for me. I should have let it go - traded my anger at his being inconsiderate & accepted his chivalry. I should have. I didn't. Instead I said something like 'it was very inconsiderate of you to stand up during the end credits'. Which made 'block my view guy' a wee bit defensive. He countered with 'you could have moved over a few seats'. Followed by me saying that "I shouldn't have to". Our conversation ended on Santa Monica Blvd. with us both not so nicely telling eachother to 'have a nice night'! So here's the deal... I feel bad for speaking up. I mean, it was inconsiderate of him, but I dunno; it isn't my job to help this fellow become a better person. I mean, I have a seven year old kid. And it is my job to help my son be a considerate person. I didn't flip out or scream at 'block my view guy'. Things remained calm, but still. Perhaps biting my tongue would have been better.

New news: I am flying to Indiana next month to see George Jones again. After missing out so narrowly on seeing Buck Owens again last week, I figured I'd better get going to see George Jones again. OH $^%#! Look what a friend just emailed me:

Jones Hospitalized in Nashville
Fri. March 31.2006 11:12 AM EST

George Jones was hospitalized on Thursday afternoon (March 30) at Baptist Hospital in Nashville for pneumonia. He is resting comfortably and is expected to make a full recovery, and his doctors wanted to take all necessary precautions, according to a statement from his publicist. The singer's weekend performances scheduled for Albany, Ga, Panama City, Fla., and Chattanooga, Tenn., are being rescheduled.

Thinking about George Jones reminds me of this Johnny Cash interview. Mr. Cash was asked who his favorite country singer was & he answered 'You mean besides George Jones'? Genius!

Sending good thoughts to Mr. Jones. Good, healing, speedy recovery, thoughts.

r.i.p. buck owens...

2006-03-25T16:03:00.000-08:00

A bunch of us had reservations tonight to see Buck Owens at his Crystal Palace. We had planned to celebrate a friends birthday with Buck in Bakersfield. A friend called me this morning with the bad news, that Buck had just died. That call was immediately followed by the Crystal Palace calling to tell me the sad news... I could hear the caller's voice crack & didn't want to make her repeat the story. I figure she was having to call each and every one of us on the reservation list. I just told her, 'I had heard the news.' She said the place would be closed a few days. I asked her to please 'Give my sympathies to Buck's family & friends'.

I am grateful I got to see him perform last year. He put on an amazing show.

my cat's a cutter

2006-03-14T22:05:00.000-08:00

My crazy cat is a cutter. There is no other way to explain it. That phrase was actually coined by my friend Paul. Dear Boyfriend & I ran into Paul & his boyfriend Matt at the David Sedaris reading at Royce Hall last April. Paul & Matt have a couple of cats, so we were sharing various cat tales. I brought up that my cat Sparkles is always opening up her chin. Paul said, "Your cat's a cutter"! And he was right. So she cuts, then she has to wear a cone for a week or so. Then she heals & I take the cone off & she goes back to cutting herself. Insanity! And let me tell you, a litter box using cat with a cone is problematic. She uses the litter box & as she is looking around for what needs burying, she often dips the cone in poo. Then with poo on the cone she jumps on the bed or couch for some affection & perhaps to show off the new decoration on her cone. Crimony!

This photo is pretty crappy, but really, do you want to see her wound clearly? Bleh.

don't flush the tp?

2006-02-27T22:55:00.000-08:00

A friend & I headed up from LA to catch George Jones live at the beautiful Paramount theater in downtown Oakland. We stayed in a nice old hotel, walking distance from the theater. Upon my inspection of the hotel room I notice the note on the toilet paper holder. Being a woman of bleeding age, I am accustomed to signs asking that 'feminine products' not be flushed. But a sign asking that the toilet paper not be flushed as well? So silly. Oh & I flushed everything it asked me not too. I think even if my ovaries hadn't been painting the town red, I'd have found a tampon to flush.

On with the show... I am a great big OLD country music fan. I fancy myself an amateur collector of seeing old country greats before they aren't on this earth anymore. I saw Johnny Cash & June Carter just before Mr. Cash got sick & stopped touring (1997). He gave me a harmonica at the end of Orange Blossom Special (as is his habit). My love for his music runs much longer then Walk the Line so don't start thinking I am bandwagon jumping. (Let me segue here & say I liked that movie more then I expected & while I am talking about Oscar winning movies - I thought Crash was a real stinker. Good try, subject matter & acting - HORRIBLY written). But, I was talking about country music... I've seen, Buck Owens, Merle Haggard, Willie Nelson, Wanda Jackson, Janis Martin, Hank Thompson, Rose Maddox, The Collins Kids & I am sure I am missing a few.

George Jones was one I needed to see - though he doesn't tour much out here on the west coast. Lucinda Williams opened up, but we were busy drinking (turns out we were drinking in the ladies lounge - who knew?) & missed most of her set. While we were tying one on, I mention that I had heard the George wasn't sounding so good lately. That he plays mostly covers of new country artists & I am thinking 'Great, George Jones covering Toby Keith (spit)'. Thankfully another fan tells me he has read recent reviews & how it really sounds good & I started getting excited about the show.

So Mr. Jones' back-up band (who were great by the way) kindly explained that George is there & will perform, but he has a real sore throat. That it'll be tough for him, but he'll do his best. Out comes George Fricking Jones & he opens with 'Why Baby Why'. It was genius! You could tell he was struggling with his voice but it really didn't sound bad at all. Actually it sounded great. I felt bad that he kept gesturing at his throat between songs - you could tell he was hurting. I was having a great time (snapping photos) & feeling so lucky 'Imagine how great he'd be if his throat wasn't hurting'. Then about midway throughout the show the whole right side tower of speakers decide to pop on & off for the remainder. I had no problem handling the throat issue, but the speaker issue seemed unforgivable. I was starting to flip out. I thought I was flipping out inwardly - but apparently not as my friend caught on & reassured me 'We will see him again - don't worry' which managed to calm me right down (well that & I complained to the stage manager who promptly blamed the George Jones supplied sound crew). So at just about the time I am calming down & starting to enjoy myself again, the poor woman seated in front of me, proceeds to shit herself. This was not gas - this was, well, shit. She rushes off with the lady sitting next to her & eventually the smell dissipates, the ladies return (smelling of cheap perfume, which I must say was nicer then the smell of poo), and we all enjoy the rest of the show (sans the crappy speaker situation). It took me the eight block or so walk back to the hotel to realize that I was so glad to have seen George Jones! And maybe next time he'll be feeling better and his speakers will work and no one will poo in their seat.

electric boogaloo

2006-02-16T19:42:00.000-08:00

I know, I said that these marquees won't be the mainstay & they won't - unless they are irresistible as this one. Doesn't it remind you of those old cartoons? An angel on one shoulder & a devil on the other.

more with luke and those demons...

2006-02-10T07:15:00.000-08:00

I showed my Mom this site & her first worry was that someone would see this (ha) & know who had taken the pictures/published the blog. I'm not worried. I am not planning on having the marquees be the meat of this meal.

view from my kitchen window...

2006-02-07T20:54:00.000-08:00

Each Tuesday the church across the street from my house updates the marquee with the coming Sunday's sermon. I have been taking photos of the ones I find funny. Have also taken photos of some not so funny - for example 'Abortion: The Death of Children'. Thankfully most land closer to the funny side of the street. And I think I may have to pick up the old bible & read some of Luke. A lot or the marquees reference Luke. I particularly like this one - 'unrepentant sinners who hate' & specifically hate Luke apparently... Poor Luke.