Another Year Bites The Dust

2007 is coming to a close and it's time to make some resolutions for 2008. WTF? I hate those things. Resolutions last about a week and ya usually have to pay for them for life, in the form of an auto-draft for a gym membership. So - phooey! I think I'm just going to resolve to continue with the good stuff and jettison all the crapola from 2007. Ya hear me, crapola from 2007? Go on! Git!

In total, 2007 was one helluva year, in a great way. I had more fun this year than I had in some of my college years. Then again, I had to study during those times and that really sorta sucked, so perhaps those weren't the bestest. My 20's were cool, but I was just getting my feet wet. But since I grew beyond my 20's (okay, beyond my 30's - evs) it's been getting better and better. At least that's how I remember it and isn't that what matters? I mean, this blog really is all about me, isn't it? Shut it.

Then again, my short-term memory is probably starting to blur some things. It's all good as long as it looks good from my point of view. So I intend to carry on with enjoying life as it comes along and let the not-so-great stuff run off. I guess that's a resolution of sorts.

I had a helluva week last week, lemmetellya. First there was the Island of Misfit Toys gathering on the 24th and then Christmas with the CruiserMel Clan and that was quickly followed by 5 days of month-end/year-end work to do in a mere 3 days. I was one beaten chica, people.

BUT - there was tons-o-fun to be had, even after the holiday, y'all. On Thursday, I got a call from Doug with RundgrenRadio who was on vacation and wanted me to pinch-hit for him and host the radio show that night. Thanks for the time to prep, Doug. Luckily, I only had to host the second hour of the show - the easy part. Starting around minute 58, I took the helm and we looked back a la New Years Eve special at the past musical guests and played some music by each one and pimped their latest recorded efforts. To say I sounded like a pro would certainly be an untruth - at least at the beginning - but a couple of diet cokes* later and I was ready to usurp Doug's power, change his password to BlogTalkRadio and take over the show for good. Luckily for him, I've since lost his password. Pity. Give it a listen if you wanna. Click over there on the right in the blue box and after Doug does a prerecorded interview and some other stuff (not that it's not interesting, mind you) you will hear yours truly saying "um" and "uh" about 1000 times. I rock. In my own mind.

So - here's my wish for all y'all in 2008: May your days be filled with smiles and good friends. May your days be safe and warm. And may you be healthy and hearty. Big ole hugs comin' your way......

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!

*my special recipe

CruiserDog Must Be Cajun

Okay, I don't know what happened with that SNL video, my lovely chitlins. If I'd known it was actually removed, I would certainly have not teased you like a 9th grade virgin. My bad.

Let's see what's happened since we last met..... oh yes, Christmas and all it's trimmings! Did y'all have some fun and frolic? Was it a white Christmas where you live? Did you get some goodies or just coal in your stocking?

For me? Overall it was great - a couple of days off from the wear-n-tear that is daily living. But nottoomuchtomysuprise, I was disappointed by the gifts I received from my family. Yes, my family. I got two Nascar books and a big worthless die-cast model of Jeff Gordon's racecar. Honestly, what am I to do? How does one express that perhaps enough is enough? Yes, I was a Jeffhead extraordinaire up until perhaps 3 years ago when I got other things to do and grew up a bit. I still watch my round-n-round racing when I get a chance, but the world doesn't stop for a Nascar race anymore. Oh well, I've got a whole year to get that message across in my gentle, yet pointed manner, don't I?

My nephew (14)appears to be the only one with working ears, as he bought me the most insightful gift of all of them. An iTunes gift card. Now, was that so hard?

But, I guess the whole point of Christmas is to be with family and friends and come out of your comfort zone by telling these people how much you appreciate having them in your life. And that did happen. And it was wonderful.

But let me tell you a story about Christmas Eve. You'll indulge me? No? Tough.

I've been a bit stressed lately and decided to pull away from the usual and decided to have some friends over for an impromptu supper of chili and cornbread. Perhaps it wasn't Christmas-y, but perhaps we were like the Island of Misfit Toys - just a few folks who either had no place to go or no place we wanted to go. I admit I was diggin' it and it might become tradition at Casa de CruiserMel in the future.

One of the snacky foods we had was some boudin from Louisiana. (I'd tried it for the first time during my New Orleans trip and practically made love to it upon first taste.) We were gettin' after it way into the night but had left a good portion on the dish when we (humans) went into the kitchen to refill our adult beverages.

Bad idea.

Upon return to the den where we had enjoyed a bit of the boudin on crackers and had unfortunately left said dish of boudin and crackers on a low coffee table, we found CruiserDog lapping up the last morsels of that ricey, spicy goodness.

My first thought was "Uh oh, I hope I can find a good carpet cleaner." Then my thoughts raced to "I wonder how much this is going to cost at the vet."

Luckily, CruiserDog has an iron-clad stomach...and a taste for the Cajun. I adopted him from east Texas, but perhaps he came from way further east, like Louisiana.

That CruiserDog. Always making me laugh. Love ya, CruiserDog. Don't ever change.

Tell Us About Your Balls, Pete

Merry Christmas, my chitlins. And to all, a good night.

Feeling Grinchy or Tiny Timmy?

I may be the only living soul who actually likes doing those "getting to know you" email quizzes. Or at least the only living soul who admits to liking them. The following quiz crossed my path yesterday and since it's seasonal, and therefore different, I thought I'd share my answers with you guys. Also, I'm in Christmas burnout-mode and feeling a little Scroogey, so I couldn't think of anything blogworthy tonight. Feel free to take one or all of the questions on for yourself, but leave me a comment. We share around here. That's how we roll.

Welcome to the Christmas edition of getting to know your friends.Okay, here's what you're supposed to do, and try not to be a SCROOGE!!!Just copy (not forward) this entire email and paste into a new e-mail thatyou can send. Change all the answers so that they apply to you. Then sendthis to a whole bunch of people you know, INCLUDING the person that sent itto you... 'Tis the Season to be NICE!

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Wrapping paper and pretty bows mainly.

2. Real tree or artificial? It's all about the faux, baby.

3. When do you put up the tree? During the Cowboy game on T-giving.

4. When do you take the tree down? When I get tired of looking at it...Jan 1.

5. Do you like eggnog? I do. But only in small doses. Spiked, of course. I mean, seriously! What would be the point?

6. Favorite gift received as a child? My first car - with a giant green bow on top.

7.You have a nativity scene? Yes, but who knows where it is!

8. Easiest person to buy for? My teenaged nephew - electronics and gift cards!

9. Hardest person to buy for? My mother.

10. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? Cocoa mix with Jeff Gordon's pic on it. Can ya believe that shit? And she's FAMILY.

11. Mail or email Christmas cards? I actually love those dumb Christmas update letters and try to get one out to people every couple of years...but with the way it's sneaking up so fast this time, I may just go with the email idea. Me likey.

12. Favorite Christmas Movie? "Elf"

13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? Dec. 20th. Well, fancy that - today is Dec. 20th. Great.

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? Enough with the guilt here!

15 . Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Beef tenderloin

16. Clear lights or colored on the tree? I have clear lights, but I like both equally. You know, how mental patients like shiny things.

17. Favorite Christmas song? Tied: Little Saint Nick / Do You Hear What I Hear?

18. Travel for Christmas or stay at home? Yes, 2 week cruise through the Mediteranean sea with my sexy sweetheart, winning in the casino, and dining on fine food and wine..... oh wait, that's just in my head. Nevermind. I guess I'll hang around Dallas.

19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeers? Yes, if I sing the Rudolph song in my head. It's kind of like figuring out if a month has 30 or 31 days or "I" before "E."

20. Angel on the tree top or a star? Angel that my parents gave me when I bought my house. I love her! She makes me cry.

21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? AGAIN with the presents. I guess sometimes it's a little of both.....and of course, it gets drug out into January, too, depending on which friends I see less regularly than others.

22. Most annoying thing about this time of year? Traffic!

Some Of These Guys Look Familiar

Here's how ya do it, men. This is your public service announcement. You can thank me later.

Apparently, I'm BI Now

Aw, here we go again...CruiserMel disappears for awhile and y'all start talkin' trash about me. Don't think it goes unnoticed either. But I won't take it in a negative light, rather as good PR. There's no such thing as bad publicity. But enough about that, let's talk about me.

Where to begin? Ah yes - Todd.

*GASP* Did I say Todd?

Why yes I did say Todd. Imagine that.

Dat's right, my peeps, T the G came to Dallas to play the House of Blues and I was in Todd Heaven. I'd seen this particular show (well, different drummer) in Vegas earlier this year and let's just say I was a-buzz with excitement because Todd rarely comes around these parts. There were a bunch of friends I know from the int-a-net fan sites who came from miles around, including the little bro I never had, Doug from RundgrenRadio.com and his lovely bride. We'd met back in May at a New Cars show in Louisiana and I was thrilled to have them as house guests.

It was crazy insane and the fatigue I'm still feeling from my "Adventures in Utopia" (you wouldn't understand that reference unless you were a Toddhead, so don't be hard on yourself) has been completely worth it.

I can't tell you a whole lotta details or I'd have to kill you, but it was a whirlwind of fun. Wanna see some photos? No? Well, tough.

Dat's right, my chitlins....that's CruiserMel gettin' her snuggle on with Todd. *strut strut*

And yup, that would be Kas in a couple of the pictures, too. Oh, did I forget to mention him? My bad. Hee hee. *blush*

After their stop in Dallas, the band headed for Austin while my partner in crime, L, and I drove on ahead to New Orleans for just a tad bit of fun. New Orleans is kinda boring. Not much to do there. But we discovered this street called Bourbon and let's just say there was mucho flowing of the spirits (both liquid and voodoo) and most is a blur.

What I do remember is the lights going out in our hotel room, which was haunted btw, going to a bar named Utopia (see above Todd reference), dancing with a guy with a grill, having some shrimp bisque to die for, numerous Skyy & diet cokes, drinking the most loaded daiquiri in history and demanding more vodka be added to it, making out with a complete stranger in a bar (uh, yeah, the daiquiri was kickin' in about that time), getting my friggin' life saved by L as I was completely out of my mind and heading to a dark alley to get more of my make-out on with said complete stranger, and then it fades to black.

The next morning L informed me that I was bi. I searched the history in my brain and said I remembered making out with that guy but what the fuck else did I do after that?!?!?

She couldn't contain her laughter and informed me that "bi" stood for bad influence. Whatever. I've been called worse.

Then we went to Harrah's for a little pre-lunch gambling and I found a magical quarter that quickly went into my shoe and hasn't left there since. It helped me more than double my money in a short time and then we were off to lunch at Mother's (go there, no kidding) and to meet little bro Doug (he drove in from Alabama sans bride to see our next Todd show at the New Orleans House of Blues). Our little family was complete. Awww.

After some pre-show cocktailing and whorin' up, we went to the venue and witnessed yet another awesome show by T the G. Even better than Dallas. Wanna see some photos? No? Well, tough.

I gave Kasim a little token birthday gift, a collectors' item of sorts in the form of a RundgrenRadio.com tshirt, designed by Doug, just for the Texas shows.

He seemed thrilled. Or was that me? Is it getting hot in here?

All too soon, Doug, L and I were back on Bourbon Street, fancy that, tearing it up, eating Lucky Dogs, and carrying on like it was all about us. And it was all about us. Always is. And we tell eachother that all the time, too. It's a family thing, ya know. Deal.

There's way more, but like I said, I'd have to kill ya and you don't want me going off on you, now that I've got da voodoo on my side. Seriously, they've got that stuff down there in N'awlins! Creepy.

LET ME JUST SAY THAT IT WAS ONE OF MY FAVORITE NIGHTS OF MY LIFE. 'NUFF SAID.

Sadly, the sun started coming up and we had to go our separate ways. Eight hours back to Dallas with dirty restrooms, boudin, Doug E. Fresh songs, road hallucinations and all.

Tickets to see Todd: $90
Gasoline to New Orleans: $100
Number of private jokes between friends: 3,612
Alcoholic beverages: 2700

Hours of sleep between Saturday and Saturday: 4
Seeing Todd and Kasim again: Priceless

Dear Santa.....

Product Description: Singing Pizza Elmo
Elmo is serving up some deep-dish delights at his next pizza party. Dressed in an adorable apron and hat, Elmo takes the stage with pizza in hand. Press his hand to hear him sing a silly pizza song as he sways from side to side. During the song, the pizza comes alive--moving its eyes and mouth--and sings along with Elmo. Requires 4 "AA" batteries, included. Measures 11" tall.

Dear Santa:

I'm pretty sure I qualify as a pizzaholic - liking everything from exquisite Chicago deep-dish style to gourmet California Pizza Kitchen and even down to my beloved Totino's - but please, oh please don't bring me Singing Pizza Elmo. I'm not sure there is enough vodka to stop the certain nightmare that is a pizza coming alive, with moving eyes and mouth. In fact, Elmo has always scared me a little. Okay, alot.

I don't care if I've been a good girl. I think I'm more into Chinese now, anyway.

Love,

CruiserMel

At Least My Car Had Doors On It

I had a "Tommy Boy" moment today that took me completely by surprise.

As y'all know, I'm a music lover and damn proud of it. So proud that I tend to play my music at a level just shy of Boeing, especially when I'm in my car. I don't necessarily point, like Sassy Blondie has been known to do, but I don't shy from treating my car stereo as my own personal karaoke machine.

I got off work a little early today, in light of the holiday, and was happily running some errands around town. A little cold front was blowing into Dallas today and the crisp air was feeling pretty good, so I had my windows down a couple of inches. (Though I'm sure I'll be complaining of being too cold within 24 hours of writing this, when it's been 80 degrees up until yesterday and it's topping out at 65 today, well it feels pretty good for a little bit.)

So - there I am, tootling around town, windows down, tunes are blaring and I'm in full-blown rockstar mode. The radio station to which I was tuned had gone to a commercial, so I started hitting buttons to maintain my buzz. I found myself tuned to the oldies station and heard some sweet, sappy Carpenters song from the 70's. "Only Yesterday," I believe it was. Believe? Hell, it WAS that song. And how I knew the words, I'll never know. But I was diggin' it. And I sounded awesome. I was channeling Karen Carpenter so hard, I nearly took up the drums.

At about the third chorus, I felt eyes on me at the stoplight. You got it, a truckload of yard workers were laughing so hard that if I'd known more Spanish, I would've said "take a picture, it'll last longer!" Instead, the blood vessels in my face almost burst and I think I had a heart attack.

Then I figured, what the hell, give 'em a show. I raised my chin a little higher, rolled the window completely down and finished the song with a flourish. Karen would've been proud. So would Sassy.

Soon, though probably not soon enough, my light turned green and the show was over. In hindsight, I don't think I sounded all that much like Karen Carpenter, so I was glad when the truck turned off my street.

.....there's something to be thankful for...... Happy Turkey Day, y'all!

I Wonder If John Lennon Did Laundry

Yes, I'm still alive. Matter of fact, that's actually why I haven't been blogging lately. LindyHor hit the nail on the head in her comment on the previous entry. Indeed, I have been livin' it up and completely reversing any good I may have done for myself during the Master Cleanse. At least some of the good, that's for sure.

I want to share a little video with you. John Montagna was the guest on RundgrenRadio last night. He was a fun guest. Great New York accent. Some fun stories about his times playing with Todd as well as others like Alan Parsons and Eren Cannata. And yes, in case you were wondering he was asked about his laundry habits. Each person has had a different laundry routine - his involves bath gel, his own version of the spin cycle and a window sill. You know you wanted to know, don't roll your eyes at me like that.

Speaking of laundry habits - it's become pretty much my "signature" question. I'm not sure how this monster got started, but it's snowballed now and I'm starting to think of writing a book about musicians' doing (or not doing) their dirty laundry. People have sold books about far-crazier topics than this, right? Eh.....maybe when I'm retired. Meanwhile, it's a fun research project. (Perhaps I need to find a different hobby?)

Anyhoo, about John Montagna.....he's a bass player / singer / songwriter and he's pretty amazing. Get a load of this video tribute he did to John Lennon on Lennon's 67th Birthday last month. Have you ever seen someone play a bass guitar like it's a lead guitar? I hope you're buckled-in. Enjoy!

Ninety-Percent Success

In case you were tossing and turning at night, wondering (and worrying) about little ole CruiserMel and her dally in Lemonland, you can rest assured now. It's over. And I was a 90% success.

Ninety-percent? Did you ask what 90% means?

It means that I made it 9 full days out of 10. Oh I could've gone another 24 hours, but I was plum sick of lemons and cayenne and maple syrup. Being a social outcast had a little to do with it, as well.

I am a social being. I enjoy gathering with friends and coworkers for a meal, a drink, or just to hangout and shoot the shit.

Once I got on the cleanse, I was shunned. I made people uncomfortable. I think I surprised quite a few by my resolve, too. Maybe they wondered if they could do something like that. Maybe they wondered if I had completely gone off the deep end. Finally.

The invitations slowed to a crawl. No more "do you have lunch plans?" No more "what's shakin' for dinner?" No more "wanna watch the game up at the bar?"

So when I was lucky enough to get invited to a couple of events over the weekend, but had to decline, I decided my days with cleansing were over. I'm back on real food now, 7 pounds lighter and feeling good.

Oh, I'll do it again sometime, as it really did make me feel good, look good, and I was in a great mood most of the time - but it won't be anytime soon.

Here's a little side bonus: I successfully gave up my caffeine, Sudafed and Advil addictions! Even now that I can pollute my body in any way I see fit, I'm still free of those nasty things. I'm so awesome, I'm almost sickening, huh?

Thanks to all who were concerned that I was doing something crazier than usual. I'll try to come up with something a little more fun for my next antic. That's a promise!

By Pseudo-Popular Demand

Okay! Okay! Wow - it seems my questions aren't so silly now. I'm tickled, seriously tickled. And thrilled to give you the answer(s)...

The long-time tour manager for Todd Rundgren said that in the early days, she was responsible for the laundry, then she kinda got sick of doing that, (can you blame her?) so she set them loose to do their own or at least to tell them how to dial "laundry service" on their hotel phones. But she did continue to do their socks because they're small and I guess they would get lost.

Funny story about socks and the world of rock & roll:

Mary Lou told a totally unrelated story about an episode back in the 90's while on tour with Todd's band. There were three backup girl singers, in addition to quite a large "big band" behind T the G. They travelled by tour bus. As one would expect, the male hormones on board outweighed the female ones, so the girls ended up in a partitioned-off area at the back of the bus. I don't recall the exact story, but somehow one of the guys (perhaps Todd) beckoned the ladies up toward the front of the bus. When they got up front, there were all the guys, completely naked, except for their socks.

Gives a whole new meaning to "doing the socks" doesn't it?

Then just the other night as I was about to ask Roger Powell (former keyboardist for Todd's Utopia) some uber interesting question about being dressed as bugs in an old video, the show's host, Doug interrupted and told Roger about me asking about laundry and other ridiculous things such as that.

Before I could say anything, Roger starts chatting about how with costumes, there usually is a person in charge of cleaning those - or at least there are interchangeable parts and/or multiples so that you don't have to perform in your own stank. He did, however, say that as for your own personal street clothes, you are responsible for your own stank. He recalled trips to a couple of laundromats during his 12 year stint with Todd. A couple of trips? Eeewwwww.

Then earlier this week as I was perusing the blog of Meat Loaf's sax player, I realized this laundry situation can be serious. Seriously! At the time, Meat Loaf had fallen ill and the band was stuck in a hotel in England for several days and it did not have laundry facilities. The sax player had actually gone out and bought a few pairs of undies (with the weak US dollar), thinking that any day now, they would be in London and could do their skivvies. He was about to freak out. No kidding. Tsk tsk tsk - should've done laundry that other day instead of bending the elbow in the pubs, Dave.

I don't know about the big big stars so - as for David Bowie and his spandex.....we can only hope that fell into the category of costumes, and that there were multiples, too.

Hey, your inquiring minds wanted to know.........I am nothing if not accommodating. Such is life as a rock star.

Who Does The Laundry?

Monty Python has it's Ministry of Silly Walks.

I have a Ministry of Silly Questions. My friend over at RundgrenRadio.com says I have girlie questions.

But let me ask you a question, please? Woops, that was a question.

Let me ask a different question, please? Damn. I hope I didn't use up all my questions.

Okay. Breathe. I am going to ask you a question. There.

If you heard a person being interviewed on the radio or a talk show, and that person has been a rock & roll tour manager for oh, 25 years.....and you had the opportunity to ask said person a question pertaining to her experience as a tour manager - would this be a silly question?....

"Who does the laundry?"

That wasn't so silly, was it? I mean, come on, wouldn't you want to know if Billie Jo Armstrong or John Mayer does his own undies?

See? Not so silly. You're curious now, aren't you?

These are some of the questions I come up with when I call-in to my friend, Doug's internet radio show, RundgrenRadio.

Tonight the guest is Roger Powell, the keyboard player with Todd Rundgren from way back when, when Utopia was in existence. He's played with David Bowie, too. He's been somewhat of a keyboard/computer whizkid inventor, too. I'm not sure - so I'll be listening tonight at 7:00 pm central time and calling in with one effin' ridiculously silly question just to befuddle Doug. I'm a hoot like that, lemmetellya.

And don't call me girlie.

Life Is A Lemon

See that fruit up there? Yeah. That's what I've been living with for the past four days.

Ya see, something got into me and I decided I'd punished my poor little body long enough with all my shenanigans. It was time to take charge and make some improvements.

Don't worry, my little chitlins, like most of my schemes, this is only temporary. This is not the end of fun for CruiserMel. Shut your mouth!

What really happened was a shopping trip for some fall clothes. Oh, the horror. I tell ya, it was awful. And I don't play like that.

So - I heard from a friend about something called The Master Cleanse. Have ya heard of it? Well, if you haven't yet heard of this thing, you're going to hear about it now.

I know how much you people like to write about / hear about poop, but I just can't bring myself to write about that now. Probably ever. Why? Because I've been close pals with my bathroom habits over these past 4 days. Believe me. Just believe me.

Basically, the Master Cleanse is one that detoxifies the body and, if done religiously, should result in better health, better eating habits, weight-loss (yay!), and mental / spiritual clarity.

I'm not quite sure I'm in this thing for the clarity, because I kind of like the comfortable fog I wander around in most of the time, but that weight-loss is pretty sweet. Oh yeah, blah blah blah....better health and eating habits....whatever. (You just know I'll be dialing me up some Domino's as soon as I go back on regular food. Rewards, honey, rewards. Oh all right, I'll add a couple of veggies to my turkey pepperoni. Happy now?)

In the meantime, I start every morning with 32 oz of spring water with sea salt mixed into it. Did you read that? Thirty-two ounces. No, not in enema form - but by mouth. To say this little chore is a booger would not be an untruth. This is the foulest thing in the world. It's a good thing I do this before fully waking, because I could never do this with my eyes open. I've yet to figure out a palatable way to do this other than just gulping it down and praying I don't puke it right back up into the kitchen sink. Cold. Hot. Warm. Room-temp. Doesn't matter - it's plain awful. But it's integral to making this cleanse work.

Then after that literally passes, usually within the hour, I am set for the day. At least six times a day I have a yummy glass of lemonade, of sorts. It's the juice and pulp of one organic lemon, mixed with spring water, maple syrup, and cayenne pepper. Did I just lose you? C'mon back - this part is actually the good part. I've grown really fond of my little lemonade drinks. Seriously. Who knew a person could crave lemons? I have never been one to put lemon in my tea or even one who likes lemon meringue pie. Okay, lemon squares = best part of going to bridal and baby showers. But I digress...

Between lemonades, I eat nothing else at all and drink nothing but spring water. This leaves out all forms of bourbon or vodka and certainly leaves out all things pizza-like. I've checked it out and basically, these things are no-no's.

But ya know - bear with me, I'm not possessed by the devil - I'm diggin' it. Not a morsel of food has passed through these lips since Thursday. And I'm cool with it! I've never felt so good. (Well, without sex being involved.)

I KNOW! Amazing, ain't it?

I'll be doing this through the weekend, 10 days in total. If all goes as it has been going at one pound per day and with this incredible energetic feeling, I'll be 10 pounds lighter and definitely a force to be reckoned with. Now, if only I could grow a couple of inches taller.......

Ya wanna a piece of me? Check me out this time next week.

The Imports & A Couple Of Rockin' Mommies

After perusing the internets today and reading about various Halloween tricks and treats in various parts of these United States, I figured I would hop on that ghost train and give you a taste of what my little sleepy neighborhood experienced last night.

Unless you've been totally ignoring my blog, you already know CruiserMel's love for all things Halloween. It's just one of those parts of childhood that I've held onto, along with Todd Rundgren, my blue teddy bear named Christmas, and my love of straws. Matter of fact, my love of Halloween has probably blossomed even more so since I purchased my house five years ago.

Once I got out of apartment living and into a real neighborhood, I hit the big box stores like Garden Ridge, Home Depot and Lowe's for holiday decorations like a hor attacking a john. Give me anything that lights up, makes noise or inflates and can be an eyesore to my neighbors and I'm a happy girl.

I rushed home from work to put the finishing touches on my exhibit and readied myself for the little darlings to come ringing my doorbell. I lit my luminarias along the sidewalk (and scorched my thumb, thankyouverymuch Bic Lighter Company). I lit all four pumpkins. I hid my strobe light from obvious view and put it on extra slow strobe so as to terrify the parents who would think someone was taking photos of their angels to put on the internet for pervs. I turned on my purple spider lights over the doorway. And for the "star on the tree" if you will, I turned on creepy music and sound effects to waft through the front yard. Usually, I have my 8 foot tall inflatable Dracula to assemble, but the wind was blowing and I was afraid he'd take flight, so I punted that idea for this year. Back in your coffin, Drac.

Then, I lie in wait. (laid in wait? evs.)

*ding-dong*

I grabbed my bowl of four pounds of various chocolate goodies and found that my little visitors were imports from another side of town. Okay, I said to myself, these kids don't have much in their little lives - so I gave each one 2 or 3 pieces. (I learned my lesson last year about not letting the little monsters reach into the bowl themselves. Thanks readers.)

For the most part, they were all polite children, costumed in mostly Hannah Montana clothing, who I think is the newest slut on little girls' radars or super heroes for the boys. There may have even been one boy dressed as Hannah Montana. That tells me this person, whoever she is, will have Britney status tout suite.

I think I learned how to say Happy Halloween in Spanish, too, but I've slept since then so that's totally vamanos.

The kids had fun and some even commented on my great decorations and the scary music. Yay for me.

There were only a couple of times I had to bite my tongue. On at least two occasions, there would be one bigger kid amongst the little ones. No big deal - that's responsible, I thought. But this bigger kid would be dressed in a costume - usually the most elaborate, complete with face paint and would have his or her own plastic pumpkin bucket extended. Upon closer observation, this wasn't a kid (or even a teen)! In one instance, this bigger kid was close to my age. F.U. Mommy, that's just not right. But I caved because both of these bigger kids were way bigger than I am and I really don't want to be on the morning news. Bitches. Seriously - that's criminal.

The cutest little one was my very last trick-or-treater - a little black boy, maybe 18 months old, toddling with help from his mother, wearing a Darth Vader suit, carrying a sword in one hand and his pumpkin in the other hand, while trying to balance his helmet on his tiny head. Did I mention his costume was an adult-sized suit? Yup. It was kinda sad. But adorable at the same time. I gave him my very last piece of candy and was wishing I'd taken down those mommies in sheep's clothing earlier in the evening. I will forever have his image in my mind - toddling away from the door with his pumpkin in his right hand, trying to balance his helmet and in his left hand, a light sabre and one measly piece of chocolate. Cutest. Thing. Ever.

And the award for best parents goes to the two mid-thirties women who were escorting a pack of kids. They were holding large "big gulp" cups and were giggling uncontrollably, while eating Almond Joys from their very own bag. These gals rocked. I suspect those big cups were spiked with something other than Slurpee mix. Huh? Ya think so, too?

My friend L and I watched first season episodes of "Dexter" to keep the mood for the evening. It was spookalicious!

And now to pull out the Thanksgiving decorations...

Slide to the Left.......

It's been a rough day - so I will leave your with this quickie. Love the father in this one!

Happy Early Halloween

If you're new here you might not know that CruiserMel not only talks about herself in the third person, but she's a big fan of Halloween. It's always been my favoritest of favorites in the holiday world. It's not like I particularly enjoy getting the bejeebers scared out of me, but if it's all in good fun (i.e. costumes and candy), how can we possibly lose? If lovin' Halloween is wrong, I don't want to be right. Dat's right, I just quoted some song from the 70's. Sorta.

And while we're on the topic of the 70's...tonight I had the telly on in the den while I was cooking some mess that came out tasting divine. (Italian mac & cheese - think I might be PMSing much?)

Annnnnyway, it didn't register at first, but soon that familiar music loomed and I realized that they were showing 1978's "Halloween."

There are a handful of movies that if they are on, I am helpless to change the channel until the very last credit has rolled. "Halloween" is one of those.

I know it's dated and stupid, but it set a standard for future horror movies - whereas if you are a teenager and you have sex, you die by the hand of some psycho freak who has perhaps been living in an institution since he was 6, but mysteriously now knows how to overpower healthy adults and operate a motor vehicle with panache.

So, I'm watching this while serving up my comfort food in the kitchen:



Now, I've seen this movie probably 20 times, okay 100 times, okay 200 times, so there's very little that scares me. I know where the surprises are. I know Michael ain't going to go down without a fight. I also know he wore a Captain Kirk mask. Big deal.

So, I'm dipping the spoon into the casserole dish, with taste buds a-tingling, when I honestly thought there was a person on top of my refrigerator, letting a fishing reel just GO, ya know? But here's the thing, there wasn't a person up there, and if there was, he'd have to be only about 2 feet tall or else he'd hurt himself on the ceiling. And let's be frank here: hiding on top of refrigerators with fishing reels really isn't the typical M.O. of a crazed murderer, is it?

But let me tell ya, there was a sound coming from the backside of the fridge and it's still making that sound 30 minutes later (hey, a girl's gotta eat!) and I'm a little wiggy about it because I'm either losing my mind, there really is a murderer on the fridge, or the fridge is about to go on the fritz. Neither possibility thrills me.

AND, the last few times I've run my dishwasher there's been a huge amount of water left in there when it's done. This can't be a good sign, can it?

So, it looks like there might be a trip to the appliance store this weekend. I really wanted a pedicure, dammit.

And with that, I wish you all a great weekend. Any Halloween parties going on that I should know about?

Time Again for "How Did You Find This Blog?"

I would be remiss to not say something like, "My you look trim!" and "How's the family?". I mean, it's been a friggin' week since we gathered here. And for reals: How is the family and you really do look trim. I kid you not.

I've agonized tonight over what in the wide world of sports would I blog about, but I just keep banging my head against the monitor. I just can't seem to get my funny on.

So I'm phonin' it in. So lame, I know.

But let's see where this takes us, shall we? It's kind of like my hands will do something like that weird psychic writing thingy, ya know?

Here are some of the more interesting google searches that led folks to this here blogarino:

Lots of searches about the State Fair of Texas! I mean people were looking for all kinds of answers and it's doubtful they found anything here. I mean, don't you think you'd go to the actual website for the State Fair of Texas to find out info regarding how much do rides cost at texas state fair, state fair of texas love bug, strollers at state fair, corny dog at state fair of texas, calories at fair of texas, state fair of texas 2007 sticker, or where to stay for state fair of texas? As Lindy would say: Gaaaaaaaaaahhhhhllll!

This next one has had me scratching my head for days: mer-man eh eh eh mer-man. What the fuck? I mean it - what The FUCK? Are those song lyrics? Is that Ethyl Merman singing Rhiana? (get it? eh eh eh? oh whatever)

Of course, there were the usual Rozerem searches. I'm getting sick of these. At the same time, I kinda dig it because many folks get led here by that advertising website that sings the praises of those commercials whereas I slam the shit out of it. Heh.

I get alot of searches for variations on idle mind. Hmmm, do you suppose those folks simply have way too much time on their hands? If you are blindly googling the actual words for idle mind, then your mind is indeed, idle. Walk it off, pal.

This one got me giggling because it was right after I'd posted my story about Cheap Trick. Someone actually googled "angry redneck" as if most of them are angry, perhaps? I'm sure there are perfectly happy, well-adjusted rednecks everywhere who would like to kick your ass, big guy. You'd better git off ma property, cowboy, and stop pissin me off.

Okay, this is just plain weird. I get tons of hits because of girls gymsuits. Are gym suits some code for sexy these days? To be fair, the hits have increased in recent days...maybe it's research for Halloween costumes.

Fed Ex busy busy busy. Once more, what the fuck? I like that commercial, but I'm pretty sure I haven't blogged on it. Or did I do a secret intoxicated post that I don't recall. In invisible ink?

I'm not really sure why this one makes me laugh, but I'm sure it's my immaturity showing. randy flowers meat. Now, Randy Flowers is a guitar player. In Meat Loaf's band. Or this person was looking for something completely different. Tough call. People have some f'd up fetishes.

my idle hockey player. You figure that one out. I'm at a loss.

I actually get a lot of hits from folks pondering the "where are they now" file, under C for The Cars. Ric Ocasek and did benjamin orr date any female musicians top the list. Well, actually Paulina Poreskova tops the list, but we're not counting that at this juncture.

And finally, it has taken me awhile to figure out why I am the recipient of searches for what I think are Czech celebs, like pavel-novotny, tomas kalnoky divorce, frantisek kavan, vincent bochdalek and baroai - whatever. (whatever?) Listen to this: when I blogged about the term "spankbank," Pugman commented that his spankbank threatened to bounce too many Czechs - so he deposited them on my blog. For this, I thank you Pugman, my precious. I'm now mortifying and insulting Czechs the world over who look up their favorite Czech clergymen and role models.

So kiddies, you guys aren't the only weirdos out in the cold cruel world. You're in good company. Creepy company, but company nevertheless.

And just to plug Doug's RundgrenRadio show......if you've got an hour Wednesday night at 7:00 pm central time, you should check it out. Doug won't be hosting the show that night - but he's got Todd Rundgren's wife, Michele sitting in for him. Michele is quite funny and she's got some good poop to share, I'm sure. And she's got some very special guests on board: "Rundgren family members." Uh huh. Mysterious, no? You can bet I'll be listening live fo sho. Just in case.....

Nuts, Trannies, and a Contest Winner

Did everyone have a good weekend? It's Tuesday, I know, but I'm moving a little slowly.

Perhaps it's from bending over 100 times to pick up the fresh new pecan crop that has been falling like rain from one of my huge pecan trees. I'm not sure why I am picking them up - I don't even really like pecans unless they are in pralines or pie. If I wait long enough, someone named Pedro with a pickup truck full of Texicans will eventually come clean them up and sell them to the people who make fruitcakes, all with huge smiles on their faces, thinking they've pulled one over on me. Actually, I'd be hiding the glee inside because, you know - bending over like that over and over again isn't exactly the kind of bending over I happen to like. Oooo, bad CruiserMel!

Actually, my weekend was a productive one. I got some stuff done that I just hate to do with a passion. I hauled out my little green steam machine (I like saying that) and cleaned up some carpet spots that CruiserDog had deposited when I wasn't looking. Glamorous, I know. I think I spent an hour on my hands and knees. And no, I'm not going to take that in some double entendre sort of way and run with it, but you can if you want. I'll wait.

Don't you just love scrubbing bubbles and their lemony freshness? I hadn't made friends with the little guys in probably a month and my bathroom sink and tub are thanking me now. Those little bubbles can clear out all kinds of little sins, like that not-quite-rinsed-away dribble of toothpaste or those tiny bits of hair from trimming my bangs. I heart scrubbing bubbles so much that I want to use it in place of Pam when I cook. Non-stick and it's self-cleaning! I need to invent things, don't cha think?

I'm mad at my workplace. I never really wake up until after I've been at work for an hour or so - so putting on makeup in the morning can be hit or miss. I went to the ladies room before lunch, glanced in the mirror and thought "I look pretty good for being forever sleep-deprived." I then went about my day. To my horror, I caught another glimpse of myself once I got home and holy crap, I looked like Bozo the Clown or one of those blue-haired ladies in church with those red circles of blush on their cheeks! No one said a word about it all day. I could have passed as a transvestite! Who puts fluorescent bulbs in a ladies' room?????? Can I get an AMEN? Note: the following photo is not me. I could never get away with wearing that!

And to get your mind off that, I've got a great recipe to share with ya! For some reason I remembered this chicken my mom used to make and so I went digging for the instructions. Yeah, I call recipes "instructions" because I am no Rachel Ray, lemmetellya. It was tremendously easy and tasted tremendous, too. Ready? Take boneless chicken boobs, roll them in lemon pepper seasoning, put in a paper sack (don't use any Pam or scrubbing bubbles), close tightly and bake for an hour at 350 degrees. I know it sounds ridiculous (and a fire hazard, too) but that's some rockin' chicken, folks! You're welcome.

Okay, quit rolling your eyes, this is my blog and I can put up a photo of Kasim anytime I wanna. Deal with it.

Last night while I was cooking that chicken, I was having a little fun. Fun? CM? Yes! Kasim was a guest on my 'Bama buddy Doug's internet radio show, RundgrenRadio. (I think that pic above is one of Doug's - so, thank you Dougiemeister.) It was great hearing some of Kasim's stories about his 30 years recording and touring with Todd, even though I'd heard many of them before. I called-in with some questions. And then again. Hey, I wasn't done yet! Tomorrow night (7:30 central time, I think) Doug's guest is Prairie Prince - a funny guy who's played with Todd, Jefferson Starship, The Tubes, and - oh, you get the gist. He's quite an artist, too. Should be pretty cool. I need to think of my questions tonight so I can call in again. I'm a call-in-kinda-gal. I suppose you could say I'm one of Doug's groupies.

AND while I'm on the topic, I WON! Yuppers, I did. A couple of weeks back, Doug had a fan night - where the special guests were the listeners. We could call-in and tell our stories of Todd - the first time we heard his music, fun concert stories, favorite records, etc. Who wouldn't want to share their fondest Todd memories? Oh yeah, y'all don't get it. Whatevs. That's not the point here. Back to me winning, shall we? So, I call in and give my story of seeing Todd for the first time on the Midnight Special (anyone remember that show?) at a slumber party and some other stuff that I can't recall right now. SOOOO - it turns out, Doug had another person judging the stories and I WON! Well, it wasn't my story, per se, but my style that won it for me. Telling him I was wearing four Todd tour shirts, twirling a baton and tap-dancing while telling the stories was was cinched it. Are you callin' me a liar? Okay, you'd be right. But hey, I won a tshirt. I don't ever win anything. *strut strut*

So that's about it for me. I didn't even think I had a blog post in me today....but damned if I didn't. *still strutting*

Off with ya. Don't you have another 10 blogs to read?

Almost a Religious Experience. For Reals.

Hello, my chitlins! I hope you enjoyed our little birthday party yesterday. There's still some cake & ice cream, but y'all completely wiped out the last drops of wine. No problemo, there's always more to be found. But who ate all of my pizza?

To celebrate the day, CruiserMel went to a concert. A concert, you ask? Yes, wonders never cease, do they?

I won't bore you with the details, but I feel it's my duty to inform the masses about this band I saw at the House of Blues with my friends, G and his family.

First, there was a set by the Robert Cray Band. Dude, that man's got some pipes on him and he was smokin' on his bluesy guitar. He also had this older-ish white man who played the organ (no, not his organ, pervs) and that guy brought the house down on more than one song.

After a quick break, we were treated to the most intense, rockin', smokin', jammin' music experience that I think I've ever been a part of. Robert Randolph and The Family Band. Oh. My. Gawd. Every player in that band was phenomenal. "Phenomenal" is a wussy word to describe how awesome they were, but it's the closest I can get right now. And Robert Randolph himself? He is clearly the hardest working man in show biz today. And he seems to have as much, if not more, fun than the audience. I'm surprised the walls of the House of Blues didn't come a-tumblin' down.

Check 'em out. You won't be sorry. Words just don't suffice. Yup, I'm speechless. Enjoy! Oh, and have a happy weekend, y'all.

Ain't No Baby, Baby

Unbelievable as it may seem, Ramblings of an Idle Mind isn’t an infant anymore. It’s a toddler. Yes, my little baby slice of the blogosphere will be one year old tomorrow. And Mommy is so very proud of her little tyke.

We’ve learned how to drink from a bottle. (scotch, vodka, bourbon….)

We’ve learned how to walk, after drinking from a bottle. (holding on to walls helps)

We've learned from other bloggers how to talk about vaginas, penises, and poop, which is exactly what babies like to talk about.

We’ve learned how to not pee in our pants. (okay, there was that one time when Johnny Virgil wrote about getting his septic tank siphoned out…)

We’ve learned about toys from Lindy. (it apparently does take a village…)

We’ve learned how to defend ourselves from Sassy Blondie. (in real Texas style yet!)

We’ve learned how to be a proper sports fan from Lozo. (along with lessons about how to not become a professional poker player)

We’ve learned all about Grey’s Anatomy and The Office from Sarah every Friday. (along with how to become the partyingest animal in Ohio)

We’ve learned how to properly dump a boyfriend from Golightly and her friend, Kate. (I can attest that their script works!)

We’ve learned how to flirt with boys…like Pugman and Just Sayin.

We’ve learned how to play with friends from all kinds of places like Mr. Fabulous in Florida, Williebee in Illinois (okay, so I cheated here – I actually know this one in real life), and while we’re talking about real life peeps, there’s always my bestest rock & roll hor / friend, KP in Fort Worth, Circe & Kerry in OKC, Sgt Redline down in the bayou, Rockdog in New Yawk, Anonymous Coworker in Maryland, Tug in Colorado (bless your heart) and some precious Texas friends like Swishy, ThatGirl, and Pecos Girl. And there are soooo many more that we would like to mention, but toddlers get tired and this one needs a nap.

Needless to say, it’s a fun playground, for sure.

Mostly, we’ve learned to use spellcheck and how to post videos, photos and live links to our favorite friends.

And a most-valuable lesson: try to avoid posting while intoxicated.

Which is something I’m doing right now.

Do as I say, not as I do, and you’ll get some cake and ice cream. Or a tumbler of wine. You know where the corkscrew and tumblers are. Help yourself and get comfy – Ramblings of an Idle Mind ain’t done yet!

…..and many more………..

Sports Update

HOW 'BOUT THEM COWBOYS, HUH?!?!?!?!?!?

And yeah, thanks for the suggestion that I have a tumbler (or two?) of vino to chill the fuck out. Because it's truly done the trick. Mi casa es su casa, just help yourself to the bottle of red on the counter.

I Hate To Get Off On A Rant Here, But..

I like to think I strive to give my visitors to this little blog a positive experience. I really do. But sometimes a girl just has to let off a little steam from the blog-o-cooker. Indulge me, will ya?

By the time I got home today, I was a wee bit irritated by life's little burrs under my saddle, but when I saw what the trash man, excuse me "sanitation worker", NO TRASH MAN did to my trash bins, I was confronted with a choice: 1.) spontaneously combust, or 2.) write a blog entry. Consider yourself lucky, as spontaneous combustion would benefit no one, particularly my dog who was peering through the window, paws crossed.

Without further ado.......

Let's back up a week or so, shall we? I'd gone to the elegant symphony hall here in Dallas to see a concert. Yes, I can clean up like the rest of them. Deal with it. Anyway, I parked my car in the attached parking garage, between the lines like civilized people do. When I came out of the performance, someone had swiped my rear bumper and left swift black streaks from side to side. A note? Not a chance. Uncivilized oaf!

Last night I was returning from dinner with my friend, L, and was driving home in a lawful manner. I signalled that I was planning on entering the left turn lane and did not drift from my line. I pulled up to a safe distance behind the rusty sedan and waited for the green arrow. When the arrow appeared, nothing moved. I lightly tapped my horn and got no response. By this time, the arrow had turned red. Mmmmmokay, it's a nice Sunday evening and I'm a patient person. The arrow turned green again and yet - nothing. Except a hand gesture that either was a proposition or an insult, depending on how one would take it. At this point, I realized the rusty sedan had stalled-out. But did that hand that was so capable of movement ever wave me by in a friendly manner? Hell to the no. So, I signalled to the right and entered the first "going straight" lane and pulled along side the sedan. I tried to get his attention to see if I could help and saw the same gesture I'd seen a couple of minutes before. Finally, I made an illegal left turn from the "going straight" lane and made it home. Great googly moogly folks - maintain your vehicle! Lazy government moocher sot!

Today I was taking a little break from my desk out in the out of doors. There is a cold front making it's way into Dallas this evening, so I was watching the clouds dance and looking at how pretty the hibiscus flowers looked in our building's flower bed. Basically, I was minding my own biz, when my eyes caught a glimpse of a plumber's van making it's way down our street. It's not so unusual to see vans driving down this street - except this one had it's window open and the man driving it was quite obviously having himself a little tug, if ya know what I mean. While driving 30 mph. And that plumbing company is based about 2 blocks away from my office. So that means he was in a hurry to finish-off, if ya know what I mean. Ay carumba. Impatient horny nasty slob!

After work, I made my way to the grocery store to pick up a few items. No irritations here. In fact, this particular store has such great muzak that I felt like perhaps my day might end gracefully. Aw hell no. I was paying for my stuff at the checkout when I felt a presence near my left elbow. It wasn't some stray child. It was a yuppie (do they use that word anymore?) mommy who thought she might get her goods and get out of there a whole minute sooner if she moved past the current People and Star magazine rack and entered my personal space. Naturally, I had to feign difficulty with my wallet. High-strung, new-money, Louis Vuitton-toting bitch!

And to top it all off, the TRASH MAN had decided to knock over my trash bin and had left it in the middle of the alley behind my house and taken the recycle bin and thrown it on top of my holly bushes, about 5 feet from where it usually sits. What the? I mean, it's not like these guys ever even touch the trash, nor do they even get off their truck. The whole operation is done with a mechanical arm. I'll bet he is paid more than I am paid, too. Creepy city worker a-hole!

So I'm off now to a meeting with some neighbors about going to city hall Thursday to fight a developer who wants to tear down an ailing apartment complex near our homes and put up a 4-story retail/residential complex, probably with at least two Starbucks and an Old Navy store within a 1/8 mile of here. This would take the population at that intersection from 230 residents to over 800. Do you see where I'm going with this? I'm not anti-improvement to our area. I'm groovy with it, actually. But the intersection I'm talking about has been rated a "D" for traffic tangles already. So, I'm kind of glad I'm a little bristly. I'm going to use this feeling for good, rather than evil.

So there.

Meanwhile, this guy and I are kindred spirits when it comes to effin' idiots prowling the streets of America. Children, I give you the King of Rants, Mr. Dennis Miller. Take it away, Dennis!

The Great State Fair of Texas

Friday was a gorgeous Texas autumn day. Well, if you can call 90 degrees and sunny an autumn day. But no one would debate that Friday was a beautiful day.

What made it even more beautiful was that I had the day off and plans to go on my annual trek to the State Fair of Texas.

As I pulled into the parking lot on the fairgrounds, I felt the electricity in the air. There were families with strollers, teens with pocketfuls of cash to spend on midway games, an enormous amount of enormous butts, and a large population of blue-hairs in their powerscooters. Everyone had those fair-going smiles, including yours truly.

I love the Texas Fair. I always make certain to hit the Fair at least one time during it's three-week stay. It usually takes more than one visit because it is the largest state fair in the country. There's just too much to take in on one measly visit. Way too much.

First - there are the rides. This ain't no carnival in a grocery store parking lot, people. There is just about every ride you can imagine. My favorite is called The Love Bugs and it's one of those trains that goes around and around, faster and faster, while it rolls over bumps and throws your left hip into a hard metal corner of the seat and breaks your neck. The greatest things about the this ride is a tie between the music they blare over the speakers and the toothless guy running the thing while yelling "Do you wanna go faster? Then let me hear you screeeeeeam!" over and over. It's impossible for me to resist.

Then there is the Texas Star Ferris wheel. It's just gorgeous. And huge. I love to watch it as it travels up and over. It's so graceful. And did I say huge? Yeah, I don't do this ride. But it sure makes for a nice photo, doesn't it?

Another ride that I love to watch is the swings. The little kids' faces are priceless. I'm not a parent (of a human) but this is one time I wish I could borrow a kid.

Then there are the exhibits. I know, I know, the kiddies don't really like the exhibits, but hey, since I don't have a (human) kid, I can go see the exhibits in peace. The new automobiles didn't disappoint. I am seriously jonesin' for the new Lexus IS. I go through this every year where I sit in these new cars, mess with the buttons and act like I'm driving on the Bonneville Flats. But then I check the sticker price and get over it pretty fast.

I went to the Women's Museum to see a really cool exhibit of Hollywood costumes. They had Scarlett's green & white hooped dress that was worn in the picnic scene in "Gone With The Wind." They had costumes from "Titanic" and "Dreamgirls" among others. I was stunned how tiny they were. I guess movie stars just seem larger than life.

I looked at prize-winning quilts, Christmas stockings, pickled okra, jams and jellies, and a whole mess of sheep, hogs, goats and cows. (Hey, it is a fair, after all.)

There was a hilarious show called "Dancing with the Dogs" that was a blasty-blast to watch. Unfortunately, I didn't stick around long enough to see the pig races, where they put racing silks on piglets and they run around a course to get to the prize: an Oreo. Who knew?

But the real reason I go to the Fair is for the food. Counting carbs or calories or even worrying about trans-fat grams is taboo! Of course, I had to have my traditional favorites, such as the Fletcher's Corny Dogs (I had two!) and a funnel cake and two homemade root beers. I could probably qualify as a entrant in the pig races after all of that.

But every year there is something new and this year was no exception. They came up with something called Fried Latte. I never found the stand where this concoction was served and it's probably a good thing because it sounded divine. They take a sopapilla (a Mexican donut - thus the fried part) and sprinkle some instant coffee granules and cinnamon on that. Then they cover that with a scoop of cappuccino ice cream and caramel sauce. Then add a little more instant coffee sprinkles on top for good measure. Sinful. My arteries are hardening just writing those words. Makes me shudder, but I do wish I'd seen one of these up close.

When the sun began to set, I had a new blister on my foot and my legs were aching from walking for hours. I made my way back to my car. I sat on the worn leather seats of my not-new-at-all car with my surely larger behind than what I had earlier in the day and sipped on my second homemade root beer that I'd grabbed on the way out and wondered: we really don't grow up entirely, do we?

KP's BD

KP - May you have a rock-n-roll hor birthday today. Aw hell, why not make that an entire year!

Have a rock-n-roll year!!!!!!

Love ya, babe. Don't ever change.