The Times They Are A-Changin'

Today is my birthday. Why, thank you. And you, too. You're the best.

The day started off just dandy, with CruiserDog's fuzzy butt in my face on the pillow next to me. Then somehow I completely missed the glass as I was pouring some left-over iced tea from a pitcher, drenching my feet and kitchen floor. It all improved as I got to the office and handled a couple of problems that had been hanging over my head (well, more like piling up on my desk) with finesse and lightning speed. By the time I left the office, I was smiling, looking forward to a four-day weekend filled with a couple of Todd shows in Austin and Dallas. Life was great!

I buzzed through some errands and headed home to find several bday cards, mostly insulting, the way I like it. Life really is great, indeed.

And then...what's this? A catalog I've never seen before. Hmm. Two lovely women on the cover, smiling at the camera with a look that seemed to say in some condescending way: "I understand."

WTF?

I leafed through the pages a little and discovered a pattern. This was a catalog entirely aimed at middle-aged vain women! Vain, I might be, but I'll be DAMNED if I'll ever admit to being middle-aged! I might cave-in when I'm rounding 70, but not now, no way. And certainly not on my frickin' birthday!

The cover says "As We Change" in a typeface that just looks like it "understands." Good grief! If you truly understand, you would most certainly not time your mailings to arrive at a woman's mailbox on her birthday; I don't care if it's her 29th or 69th! F you and your understanding font!

I must admit I did check out what they were selling and most of it was nonthreatening, in an aging sense. (moisturizing creams, satin pillowcases, magnifying mirrors, etc.) Then, as I got further into the magazine, it got a bit scary. There were pajamas designed for women who suffer hot flashes. There were vitamin supplements to make one feel sexy again. There were at least 3 pages of girdles. Girdles!

And then, they cut to the chase with "personal massagers." Oh. My. God. Pages and pages of "personal massagers." It was bordering on soft-core porn. Right here in my house! Then it hit me - these people are reminding women of a "certain age" that they can't get any from their men anymore at their advanced age. Way to go.

Such trash! Appalling! For shame!

I'm planning on throwing it away as soon as I place my order.

He's Baaaack

OMG, the trading baby's back! I wish I needed an advertising company, because this whole campaign is frickin' brilliant!

All Todd All The Time In Utopia

Aloha! I wrestled with how to put into words the Utopia that was my week last week, but it isn't as easy as it would seem. Toddstock was - well - oh how can I even come close to expressing it?

Todd has a song called Cliche' that he wrote years ago, a beautiful ballad, where he repeats the following line:

"Where are the words? Where are the words? Where are the words?"

I could just stop right there, but I know you guys know me better than to just leave it there, so I'll try to hit some of the highlights at least.

First to explain some of the great stuff Todd and his bride of 10 years, Michele, provided for this affair in Kauai. They've got 5 acres of beautiful, rolling land with a view to kill for. Their land rolls down into this valley with a river that runs to what is pretty much a private beach.

Now I see why he scolded me for calling it his "yard."

Todd & Michele provided a big food tent, complete with full kitchen, food and drinks. They had two bars on property. They even brought in a masseuse who had her own tent so people could get their weary bones worked on without leaving the property. And their house! Oh my, the house! I wish I could show you what I mean, but naturally, we faithful aren't going to post any pictures that might give away the secret location and cause a security risk. So until I get some go-ahead to post photos of the house or any from the property itself, I'm afraid I'm going to have to be choosy about what I can show here. Sorry, but my Toddly is important to me and I don't want you guys to go all postal on him (okay, y'all are okay, it's just that guy you hang around with who doesn't bathe, has a limp and scratches his face all the time that I'm worried about.)

After travelling all day Monday (and I mean ALL day), we arrived in Kauai and headed off to find our rental house, something called The Waterfall House. And here's why!

That's the Hawaiian way - no one wears their shoes into any one's home. I'm sure there is some spiritual explanation for this, but the practical reason is because they've got this red dirt that absolutely won't come out of or off of anything it gets on, so it's just the right thing to do.

Even though it was something like 2:00 am to our bodies, that didn't stop us from wanting to go check out what was happening over at the Toddstock Camporee. Off we went, like little virgins, all atwitter to meet other like-minded Toddheads, get a gander of Todd's house and property, and hopefully hook up with something alcoholic, because eleven hours of travelling and only a couple of hours of sleep just doesn't take the edge off enough.

The cute memory of that night came when I was waiting outside an outhouse (that Todd had constructed), chatting with some friends, when a male voice from inside said "Mel? CruiserMel? Is that you?" I didn't recognize the voice until out stepped Bobby Strickland, a sax player who I had interviewed on RundgrenRadio a couple of months ago. It was funnier than how I just wrote it.

I have few other memories of that night, but I do know we shut the place down around 1 or 2. This would become a pattern.

Tuesday, we got up and gasped at the beauty which was our rental house and it's surroundings. Our house rocked! Avocado trees, mango trees, and species of flora and fauna I'd have to look up in a book to tell you about. This was in our yard, people! Avocados! Can you imagine?

Before we knew it, it was time for three of the six housemates, including myself, to do something touristy. We headed off to a tour of the Fern Grotto. The little boat trip was cool, because we passed people on the river kayaking and doing some kind of standing on boards and paddling with long sticks. Groovy. Once we got to the Grotto, CruiserMel channelled Elvis and couldn't stop singing "In the Grotto" (Ghetto) to the point where I'm pretty sure some others wanted to kick my Texan ass. So I sang even louder. The lack of sleep was kickin' in and the punchies were in full tilt boogie.

After our tour, it was over to the Camporee, where I'm not kidding here - over 100 tents were set up, maybe more. The food & dining tent was huge. The fans had built, under Todd's supervision two tiki bars, one for beer and one for martinis. If you wanted anything else, you were on your own, but CruiserMel decided to partake of Todd's famous martinis - made by Todd himself! And by martinis, I mean lethal doses of straight vodka shaken with ice until a thick layer of frost appears on the outside of the shaker, then strained into a glass. And because I don't know what it's for, who needs vermouth anyway? OMG, in that humidity, Todd's Tinis were a welcome refreshment.

A little too much refreshment apparently, because I found myself getting my makeout on with one of the campers. Don't look at me that way. Hey, he was the prettiest guy there! That's what matters when CruiserMel is on vacation donchaknow. Shhhhhh, I'm trusting you guys not to tell. And yep, I got even more makeout on during the week. Vacay, you know.

The next day, I realized that those refreshing bevs from the night before tend to make one want to sleep until, well, forever. However, my friend L & I had appointments at the Princeville Resort for spa treatments that we had to get moving towards, so after doing a particularly awful job at doing a RundgrenRadio update show, grabbing a couple of b-fast bars and a gallon of water, we were on our way. Lemme tell ya ladies...if you have had the year I've had (and the amount of martinis the night before) Princeville has the cure! I was a noodle after that pampering. Screw the masseuse at the Camporee, we wanted to go first class.

Wednesday night was an especially magical one at Toddstock. After cleaning up and putting on our Hawaiian garb as instructed, we drove the 1.5 miles to the Camporee and witnessed a very personal Hawaiian tradition, that I felt I was almost intruding on, but Todd had graciously wanted his friends and fans to be there. It was the house blessing and it was so cool. A non-denominational Hawaiian priestess went around the outside of the house, saying Hawaiian words and planting a plant on each of the 4 corners of the house. Then she blessed the front door, took the family inside for a few minutes, and then invited us all to step inside, where we each had to bless the house with one word that we wished for the Rundgrens' new home. My word was light. Others were equally touchy-feely until some wise-cracker said chocolaty and another used a synonym for an illegal herb. Todd thought that was as good a word as any on which to stop. After dinner, I passed out some souvenir koozies I'd made up for all who attended. It only felt natural - because the sense of community was so thick amongst the family, friends, and fans all week; I may as well participate, ya know?

And of course, I found myself drawn to Todd's martinis once again.

Aw hell - let's just say that I took up residence at the martini bar every night just to save time.

Thursday was fun. I did another radio show with Doug on RundgrenRadio from the Camporee as many folks left for a hike up the Na Pali coast, led by Todd himself. We had fun interviewing the other lazies like ourselves and the morning was glorious with the sun coming up over the mountains. Was I getting used to the Toddtinis? Affirmative. I did worry when one interviewee likened the Toddtinis to Kool-Aid at the Jim Jones camp. But only a little.

That afternoon, Keli, Kelika and I (Meli - our Hawaiian names), headed to the heliport to take a magnificent helicopter tour with Jimmy holding our lives in his hands. He was really cool and I trusted that if we went down, he'd be sure to crash us somewhere gorgeous. Here's a pic of the Na Pali coast that some Toddstockers (Toddstalkers?) hiked earlier in the day.

That night - well - I think was a repeat of the previous ones....martinis, making-out with HandsomeMan and watching Todd really enjoy himself with one too many Toddtinis. The night closed out with a rousing singalong of Swing Low, Sweet Chariot, Old Man River and Bali Hai, before Todd adjourned himself (and by adjourned, I mean - was led to his bed by a couple of big guys). Another one for the memory files.

Friday was filled with a tubing tour with about 20 other camporees down a lazy river through an old sugar plantation. It was hysterical playing bumper-tubes with my new friends. There were 4 or 5 tunnels, one that was over a mile long and we had helmet lights, but eventually we turned them off to experience the sensation of not moving at all, when we had actually sped up or were going the same speed as we'd been travelling all along. What a trip!

After cleaning up, it was back to the Camporee for a lovely dinner, prepared by friends and fans (as was done all week, btw) and the highlight of the week for us RundgrenRadio folks, a very special show featuring Todd, himself. Todd donned his RundgrenRadio tshirt and we had a fan-driven Q & A show session. He seemed to love it. We faithful had some awesome questions for him - not like typical radio or news interviewers. It was fantastic! That show's had so many hits that it's not just a top show on Blog Talk Radio's music shows, but made it to the top 10 shows of all! Yay Dougie! Extra Toddtinis all around. Including me. Yeah, see the pattern? I was getting better at being a functioning drunk by now.

Saturday was a lazy day of driving around the island and preparing for the big luau hosted by the Rundgrens. Hawaiian natives gave Michele a flowery headdress, lifted her up on a surf board, fanned her with palm fronds (yeah, Todd participated in honoring his bride) and marched her through us adoring fans. A Hawaiian dude blessed us and our meal and we tore into the flesh of a pig that had roasted all day on the property. It was really yummy. Of course, the vegetarian camporee attendees went into town and had Thai food instead. More for us! I think after dinner they showed the DVD of Todd & Michele's wedding, as the next day wasn't just Todd's 60th birthday, but also their 10th anniversary. Pretty cool of them to share that with us. You know what came next - Toddtinis and some lip action. Vacay, remember?

Sunday was the big day and the excitement was in the air! We'd been told that dinner would be around 4:00 so that the concert we were about to witness could start before sundown. Oh did I mention that we got to hear the band play LIVE the songs from Todd's new cd - never heard before? Hang with me and you'll get the good stuff, baby.

Fans had helped build a stage upon the infinity pool in front of Todd's house. Upon the water, folks. I wish I could show you this thing, but alas, not cool to do what I promised I wouldn't do. There was a 4 camera shoot for a DVD to be released sometime in the future, so just being part of that was kind groovy for an ex-TV/film student. Though Todd asked that they restart the first song twice, the rest was perfect! FYI - his new music is somewhat of a departure for Todd. It's called "Arena" and it's music in the style of early 80's arena rock (think AC/DC, Robin Trower, ZZ Top) with big bombastic chords, heavy basslines, long searing guitar solos and just a little screamin. Several songs have opportunities for comebacks from the audience. ("Higher, higher") I think it's quite catchy and for once in a very long time, I believe some songs are very radio-ready. (I admit, my Todd hasn't striven for commercial success in a long time, so this was surprising.) Todd ended the concert with "PARTY TIL DAWN!!!" and we did. Like that was different. Riiiight. I got my makeout on again, but HandsomeMan was MIA, so I made a better choice in MoreResponsibleCuteMan. Hmmm, we'll see.

Meanwhile, check out the tshirt artwork (which will be the cd cover).....does this man look like he just turned sixty? I think not.

Monday was when the depression began. We ran by the Camporee to say some good-byes then did more touring of the island, grabbed some souvenirs and a pizza, headed to the airport, got our upgrades for our flights and headed home.

By 1:40 pm on Tuesday, I was on the ground in Dallas trying to figure out how to retire to Kauai. Soon.

It was the experience of a lifetime, even if you weren't a Toddhead. But for this one here - I would have to say that I'd be six feet under by my own hand if I had not gone. I mean, seriously, how many celebrities actually open their home and property up to people with free reign for a week!?!?! Somebody pinch me, I think I'm dreaming!

Mahalo Todd & Michele. You were the best and bravest hosts to do this totally unheard-of thing for us. One of my favorite memories will be the look on Todd's face over and over again of a proud papa. This was HIS wish and it came true for ALL of us. Todd said during the Q & A show the greatest line: "You guys have been better than our real friends." Awwwww, Toddddddd, you're the best.

And FYI - if you want to hear more stories of Toddstock, tune in to RundgrenRadio Monday night at 8:00 pm Eastern time because Doug (Hawaiian name: Kouko) and I will be having a good time with callers relating their own stories of the Toddstock event. It should be funtastic! See ya on the radio, y'all.

Headed to Paradise

Aloha, my friends!

If you're reading this, please know that I am having a Mai Tai in your honor, gazing at waterfalls, flying in a helicopter, learning the hula and the ukulele, rubbing elbows with fellow Toddheads (both famous and infamous) and enjoying some fine new Todd music - all the while thinking of you. Yes you.

Have a great week and perhaps I'll be able to update here as the week progresses. At the very least, there will be one helluva story to tell when I get back!

If you're particularly interested, I'll be an on-the-scene reporter for RundgrenRadio each day, so you can pause the music player to your right and hit the play button on the blue RR player. We'll be broadcasting most nights around 8:00 or 9:00 pm eastern time.

Mahalo, CruiserMel

Aloha, Oy!

Aloha my chitlins! CruiserMeli (yes, that's my name in Hawaiian) is counting down the days until she is in beautiful Kauai! Lemme explain.

As you know, Todd Rundgren rules. Right? RIGHT?

Well - you tell me how many celebrities open their residential property not only friends, but to fans for a week? Granted, it's for a couple of special occasions: 1. Todd's turning 60 next week. 2. Todd's long-awaited new CD will be debuting shortly thereafter and it's rumored to truly RAWK.

But come on - allowing the faithful (and hopefully not nutso) fans to flock to your own private sanctuary? For a week?

Did I mention that they are allowing the flock to actually camp on their property? (Heh, I called it a lawn to Todd's face a couple of months ago and he corrected me by saying "It's 5 acres!" to which I quipped - "Well, in Texas, that's a lawn." - but I digress.)

Don't be looking for blog entries about CruiserMeli getting her camping merit badge though. Hell no, I'm going in style and renting a house - I'm no dummy - a week on the ground? Get outta here.

The week will be capped-off on Todd's b-day with Todd and his band playing songs from the new CD LIVE - for us! For us! ON THE LAWN! (acreage. Evs.)

Todd and his wife will be feeding us, entertaining us, and putting up with us for a week! I can't begin to understand what's come over them.

Am I going? Duh.

I've got some stuff planned (boating, helicoptering, tubing, spa-ing) and some lovely time of non-planned stuff, like hanging with a bunch of the enlightened ones who actually "get" the whole Todd thing. To say I'm excited doesn't come close.

I'm so excited my hula's already got a shake in it and I'm ready to get lei'd!

More to follow so stay tuned. Get it? Tuned? Music? I'm so funny I'm crackin' my coconut bra!

I'm Not Excited Or Nothin'

Lookie where I'll be in a coupla weeks. I am so not diggin' the wait...

Self-Tanners And The Woes Of Whitey

Though my figure is eerily similar to the lady above (and by similar I mean short, waxy and grassy at times), I am sometimes hard-of-hearing as she is and I will be donning the ole coconut push-up bra in Kauai next month for Todd's 60th Bday Camporee (story to follow later), this is where the similarities end.

I am in a quandary and I need your advice.

I am a redhead by birth. I am white. Really white. I put the crack in cracker. And though I've spent years of attempting to defy the laws of Nature by basking in the sun, I have finally come to the realization that I will never be tanned, nor tall. At least not without the aid of a self-tanner and high heels.

Don't even try to tell me that tanning beds are the way to go, because I've been there and all that did was speed up the process of the sunburn and thus, the peel. Not pretty at all. And it makes my grass skirt cling.

Short of wearing pantyhose with sandals and I'm not decrepit YET, so I still have my dignity, this leaves me with the only other option remaining.

Sunless-tanners. Yes, that's the ticket.

I've found one that is designed to give a "gradual glow" in the form of a body lotion. It is also designed for fair maidens such as myself. I am nothing, if not realistic.

Here's the quandary: the directions specify that the product is best applied after exfoliation and that if applied daily, the glow will gradually glow darker until desired results are accomplished. But if I exfoliate daily, so as to apply the product daily, am I not just scrubbing off the previous day's glow?

And in case you're wondering...this entry is not just for entertainment's sake, nor is it just so that I can have something to post - I'm completely at a loss here. Ladies (and metrosexuals) - help me out. I need your best advice about this stuff and I need it pronto.

Mahalo

The Steel Magnolia

Hi folks. Well, 24 hours after my last entry, my mother passed away very peacefully, softly, sweetly. She was indeed a fighter until the end.

My brother absolutely had to be out of town from last Wednesday until Friday night, which left me feeling quite alone. Mom had time and time again asked that he & I be at her side when the time came, so you can figure that I was nervous that he would not be there.

That day, I had been with her a good portion of the day, however a very good friend of mine had flown into town that afternoon. I figured I could grab a bite of dinner and get back to Mom's pretty quickly.

We had a great time at dinner - and a couple of cocktails, which would come in handy later on. After dinner, my brother called to say he'd made it back into town and was wanting a report on Mom's condition. We decided to meet at her place as soon as possible, just in case.

He got there a few minutes before I did and got to have a few minutes of private time with her, before he tended to some of her mail in the kitchen. I got there and had a few minutes of private time myself, before I joined my brother in the kitchen to iron out some "what if's" with him. Not 3 minutes later, the hospice nurse called us into the room. Mom was gone. She absolutely had waited for her children to come back before she left for a much better place. According to the hospice nurse, Mom suddenly turned her head up towards the ceiling, her eyes making contact with something or someone who made her smile sweetly, and then she just stopped breathing...the slight smile still on her face.

Even in her frail condition, she had held on strong. That's what I mean by "steel magnolia." A beautiful southern woman with the unbelievable strength of steel. Funny thing is: her favorite flower was the magnolia.

Fly with the angels, Mom, surrounded by lovely scented magnolias. I love you.

Diary of a Mad Housewife

Hello, my chitlins. Here I am again, throwing myself upon your mercy, apologizing for being delinquent with the blog thingy. I don't want to bum out your day, but I've practically been on round-the-clock vigil with my mother for the last 11 days or so. Unfortunately, we all have to die and she's no exception, though she's taking her time, as she told a friend she would. Yup, it's a bummer. But let me say wow, mom's one strong woman! And let me also say the hospice system is awesome.


But enough of that.


Today I had to run back to the grocery store after work. I say "back" because, as lack-of-luck would have it, somehow my loaf of bread didn't make it into my bags yesterday. Grrrr. Oh well, they made good and let me go grab a loaf and didn't even take a look at my receipt. Damn, why didn't I say I wanted some of this:


Have you ever? This is the single most brilliant product name I've seen in a long, long while. I didn't have time to pick up a bottle, but I most certainly believe one of these has my name on it. Okay okay, I know I'm not a housewife, but I can surely go mad at times...mostly this past week or two. So there.


Anyway, y'all be good and hopefully I'll be posting a little more regularly real soon.

F Me Running

Heh. I've been hankering to post this picture ever since I took it lo, back in December 2006, when Merv & I found ourselves in Chelsea, NYC. We were on our way to meet some friends for dinner and I saw this sign. You New Yorkers may already know how the sales people at this fine establishment answer the phone, but I'm at a loss. Either way, my warped mind went where most of my readers' minds are going and I can't figure out how they get away with that.

But that is neither here nor there. Whatever that means. Matter of fact, I've always wanted to say that, too.

That is neither here nor there.

Damn, two things in one day. I must be livin' on borrowed time.

Nevertheless, last weekend, as I rode with Alec Roeser and lil bro Doug from RundgrenRadio (can I push this radio show any more?) from the Peachtree State (what's up with calling every street Peachtree anyways?) to South Carolina on our way to catch another Todd Rundgren concert, we began discussing the various origins of use of the word "fuck."

Whoa, don't even think about flinching. You know I've got a potty mouth - I just tamp it down at times...unfortunately this leads to a waxy build-up and eventual explosion at the most inopportune times.

Let me 'splain. A week or so ago, I had my arms full of stuff, including a newly opened can of nectar of the Gods - Diet Coke. I fumbled with the key to my door, unlocked my refuge, started to close the door and bent over to give CruiserDog a snuggle.

Yup - poor CruiserDog was then cascaded with a waterfall of Diet Coke and a barrage of the following words: "WELL FUCK ME!"

*click*

Yup, the door closed after my announcement to the world. Nice. Score another one for my neighbors who are already intrigued by the wild parties they think I throw every night.

I cleaned up CruiserDog and the floor and walls that had been sprinkled with Diet Coke and went about my business: checking the mail, feeding the dog, changing clothes - when suddenly, I whacked the bony part of my hand on the corner of the kitchen counter.

"WELL FUCK ME AGAIN!"

I snickered, thinking that if anyone was approaching my front door, they surely had backed away, not wanting to disturb me gettin' some - apparently for the second time and I'd only been home 10 minutes.

I was telling Doug about this story when he told me how his boss always says "FUCK ME RUNNING!"

Okay. Herein lies the purpose of this entry and I need your help. What does "fuck me running" actually mean?

No, seriously - who would've ever coined that phrase in the first place? It's not like you could possibly do that while jogging. Can you? Can you? We couldn't figure it out. Really, I'm perplexed. This is keeping me up at night and quite possibly causing undue stress on me.

The only thing giving me any peace is that I was finally able to use this photo on the blog. It's a good thing.

Getting That Old Southern Twang

Jeepers, has it been that long since I posted last? And how often do I say "jeepers" anyway? Yikes.

The world turns faster and faster these days for CruiserMel - and I suppose it does for you, too. Jeepers!

Last weekend I boarded yet another plane, headed east to Alabama - with a banjo on my knee - or was that an iPod? I met up with lil bro Doug of RundgrenRadio and we launched what we just know is going to be a lovely career in the music biz for Alec Roeser. Don't look surprised - I told you I was going into the music business!

We had three gigs in so many days and Alec kicked some serious tail. The Birmingham crowds really liked his beautiful voice and magical keys, not to mention his boyish good looks and dreamy songwriting. I was so proud of Alec. And Doug, the promoter extraordinaire. Nice job, boys.

I know I've got readers in the deep south, and let me just say this: if you want to see a budding talent before he makes the cover of Tiger Beat magazine, you would do yourself a favor by checking him out. No worries - I'll let you know where and when.

And there will be plenty of wheres and whens. Believe.

This weekend I'll head east yet again - good grief - to Georgia and South Carolina to see a couple of Todd shows and connect with some fellow Toddheads. Again. I know, I know. Call it what you will - midlife crisis, too much time on my hands, the desire to max-out my credit card, a love of airport food - but I'm going no matter what you say. So there. Updates to follow upon my return. Ah swayeh.

In the meantime, I will be hosting the RundgrenRadio show tonight, my chitlins. Yup. I'm chipping away at my 15 minutes of fame and going coast to coast! So check it out - 8:30 pm eastern time. Some good tunes, some good convo, some giggles, some ums, and lots of fun. Guar-on-teed.

My Apologies To The 'Rents With This One

I've come into the 21st century, folks. It only took me 8 years, but I finally own a laptop! Contain yourselves, please.

Today I had to drive to the DHL office to pick up said laptop. On my way over and back, I cut through the SMU campus, as I've done most of my life.

Oh I was never a student there, but I spent many a night at the SMU library and the student center back when I was just a pup. And by pup, I mean not old enough to realize what a pain in the ass I surely was back then.

Travel back in time with me, folks. Back to the days before we had laptops, before we had desktop PCs, before there was a major in college called "computer science".... back to the time of the *gasp* card catalog and the Dewey decimal system.

I know. I know. I'm ancient. But I'm cute, so you love me. Say it. SAY IT!

Back in high school, we had these things called term papers. Do they still do those? Probably not - that would require our nation's youth to earn their diplomas. Shut my mouth.

Anyhoo, we'd spend weeks gathering information from the card catalog, microfiche (whatever the F that was) and periodicals. We'd spend hours in the "stacks" gathering book after book (remember those?) and pile ourselves into the smoking lounge (oh yeah, they had those back then, too) at the SMU library and begin to compare and contrast the offerings of Issac Asimov and Ray Bradbury or debate the issue of euthanasia. And we used words like juxtaposition, which I haven't used since then.

And smoke cigarettes and flirt with the frat boys. And flirt. And flirt. And fuckin' flirt some more!

Come ON. We were 16 at best. We thought we were so friggin' cool - trying to get invited to the weekend's keg party. Never happened, sorry to say. I mean, we weren't even done filling out our bras, yet we thought these guys would be all over inviting jail bait to their drunk fests. Only now, decades later, do I realize just how smart those guys were after all, but at the time, it was nothing but disappointment - until the next evening when we would meet at the library and start all over again.

It's a wonder I graduated from high school with the hours I wasted on flirting in the smoking lounge. Hey, I don't think I ever made less than a B+ on any of those papers and that wasn't even trying.

Mom & Dad, sorry, but I didn't really apply myself. Except in the flirting department. And that was a science I didn't master until my mid-20's. And it had nothing to do with the fine education you graciously provided. If you'd only known what was going on at that library. Oh yeah, you probably did. So thanks.

*Can anyone help me with my transition into the 21st century by telling me how to make that playlist thingy move over to the left a little?

Lest Ye Think You're Having a Bad Day

My friend L has been trying to get me to notice the beauty that surrounds us in our cold, cruel world. Today, as I was goofing off at work, I found this in our building's courtyard:

Now, I ask you: how can a person stay grumpy when this is just outside the window?

Tonight I'm going to go see "21" for one of the following reasons:

1. I wish I was 21 again.

2. I'm in dire need of a trip to Vegas.

3. Jim Sturgess. Need I say more?

4. All of the above.

Hint: All of the above. See L? I'm noticing the beauty that lies all around us...... Happy HumpDay y'all!

Temporary Sanity?

In light of most every part of my life becoming ferhoodled (another way of saying eff'd-up) in the past couple of months - work, family matters, concert / dvd planning, etc - I seem to have lost a portion of my mind. The practical portion. Yes, my dahlinks, I must be crazy.

There. I said it.

Last week, I realized I would have Friday off for holiday. What's a girl to do with a spare day she wasn't counting on, you ask?

Well, I'll tell you.

She whips out the MasterCard, logs-on, and throws together a 27 hour trip to Chicagoland. There's nothing like feeling the sting of booking a flight two days before the plane takes off. (Good grief, how do they get away with what they charge?)

I closed my eyes and tried to reason that "it's only money," grabbed my camera and passport (yes, I keep it handy just in case a stray cruise ship appears on my front porch right here in Dallas) and headed for the aeropuerto at 5:30 Friday morning.

Don't get me wrong, Chicago is a fantabulous place - one of my favorites - but indeed, there was a reason for my crazies. His name is Kasim.

Oh, come on - you've read this far - you may as well stick with it.

No, actually, I was getting sick of the nice Dallas weather and wanted to get me a little of this:

I kid. But get a load of that? It was 50 degrees the day before I got there and apparently the Ice Fairy decided Chicago needed one more visit to the deep freeze for the vernal equinox and my thin-blooded arrival.

My flight got a wee bit ferhoodled (as is my M.O. most days) as I landed at Midway and yet my hotel was up near O'Hare. Not usually a problem, but on a blizzardy day like Friday, with me behind the wheel of a strange vehicle, there was a good chance I would end up wishing I'd purchased the additional insurance coverage from the rental place. Alas, the Magic Of Todd (and all things Todd i.e. since my goal was to see Kasim again, the M.O.T. does apply here) got me there in one piece in time to take a little rest, whore-up, and call a taxi - because I was in need of adult bevs and the above combo of CruiserMel, blowing snow, rental car, and booze seemed like it would be pushin' it a little.

I got to the Abbey Pub in time to see some of my fellow Kasim and Todd-heads and grab a bite at the bar before the show. It was great to see K1, K2, J, S, etc. again! It's so funny when we like-minds converge upon the un-enlightened. And we do cause a presence indeed. That bar didn't know what hit them.

K1 finished her supper before I did, so she sprinted into the actual showroom when the door opened and grabbed a place for us down in front, since CruiserMel does not suffer the travel ghoulies just to sit in the shadows. Nun-unh. Apparently, neither does K1. This is why we are friends.

Our other friend (K2) had brought along two friends of her boyfriend (not really sure why) and was trying to ditch them...but they pulled chairs up in front of us, only to have the pleasure of hearing K1 shoo them away like the pests they were. Heh. Behold The Magic of Todd.

If you've watched the youtube video below, you know that Kasim and Jesse left Doug behind somewhere in Ohio, so I can't tell you if he exercised his thumb and made it to Chicago, at least not until another episode of "Backstage Pass" - but I can tell you that Kasim was at the top of his game, sang beautifully, played some new songs and told some hysterical stories. (I love that.)

Woo. I outdid myself with that picture, didn't I? Nummy.

After some mingling after the show, K1, K2 and I stumbled back into the pub area to share some photos, some stories, some gossip, and finish off a cocktail or two. But before too long, K2 was whisked away by a very cranky boyfriend who had been plowing snow all day, K1 had to make an hour drive south to wherever she lives and someone from another country pulled his yellow cab alongside the curb to drive CruiserMel to her hotel.

The next day, the sun was shining and I found my favorite Chicago-style pizza joint (Gino's East), pigged-out on some awesome pizza pie, drove back to Midway and in a few hours time, was back at home.

Was it worth the hassle and the (serious) airfare? Hell yeah. It always is, when Kasim or Todd is concerned. Besides, crazy people don't know they're crazy, do they?