Category: BS (beloved spouse)

who's at verizon? the who, that's who

who's at verizon? the who, that's who

today’s my birthday (i’ll save that for another post). for my birthday, my husband got me gorgeous earrings and tix to see the who at verizon, which we dutifully attended last night. we had amazing seats, just to the side of the stage. would that they weren’t near a person with incredibly pungent B.O. as well as a gentleman who thought that if he kept his cigarette low that no one would notice the smoke (didn’t he learn anything from his days hiding from his parents in the bathroom with smokes? room spray doesn’t mask anything, dear. smoke is smoke.) but i digress. after all, i should be able to critique a show like my dear cousin, a former rock critic for the NY Times and peer of folks like Lester Bangs and Liliane Roxon, did. here goes.

i love the who. i have seen them when three of them were still around (performing quadrophenia, no less); i felt it my civic duty to see them while two of them were still kicking. (we’ve also seen roger daltrey sing with an orchestra at wolftrap. that moment probably inspired rod stewart to embark on the most recent part of his career. oh rod the mod, why, why, WHY?) anyway, they’ve a new LP they’re promoting, endless wire, the first album they’ve done in 24 years.

first of all, i *heart* zak starkey. there aren’t a lot of people who could take on keith moon in the drumming department (well, i suppose there are in the zany antics, car-driven-in-the-pool department). yet he doesn’t imitate moon. he really puts his own stamp on things. additionally, starkey truly controls the stage. (he probably learned to do that thanks to his gig with oasis. the gallagher brothers probably need a leash.)

i had an epiphany while watching him: the who is missing their drummer and bass player; the only remaining beatles are a bass player and a drummer. they ought to get together and make one insane band. then, i thought to meself: gee, maybe we could just let zak stand in for his dad — he’s a waaay better drummer. (and i adore ringo starr; i am merely talking about his technical ability, or lack thereof.)

anyway, the one HUGE irritant of the show: could somebody PLEASE make sure the keyboards are in tune with the rest of the band? i was nearly ready to brain myself — the keyboards in baba o’reilly, won’t get fooled again, etc — totally out of tune. and what was up with roger and his harmonica? it was like he was playing in a different key. you know, people are supposed to do more in a soundcheck besides talking to the dipshit teenager sitting in the front, guys.

most people groan when they have to listen to the new material from an artist’s album. i look at it as an opportunity to “try before you buy,” so to speak. so i was interested in hearing what they’d play. pete townshend, a man i have forgiven since he created the broadway musical tommy (which i thought was the worst, most disney-fied musical i ever saw, and i’ve seen some pretty awful ones) said that they waited to bring this album to us, the audience, for 24 years because it should have “it”. (whatever that means.) to be very honest, the material from wire and glass wasn’t bad; but it did sound like recycled musical motifs from other who works. i’ll have to give it another listen, but i figured, shit — after 24 years, THIS is what you pull out? i know pete townshend can write songs in his sleep (which he also noted on stage), but can he wake up and write some original stuff, as he has done on many of his excellent solo works? sheesh.

speaking of tommy, the highlight of the show, in my book, was the tommy medley of sorts. sure, they always pull out see me feel me/listening to you, but how often do you get to hear amazing journey and sparks live? it was thrilling, except for the out of tune instruments. yes, i am screaming for those of you who wondered.

you better you bet is a sentimental favorite of mine (when we were first married, i used to quote that when BS said he loves me i said “you better!” yeah. we’re america’s sweethearts, all right.) of course, you can tell two people are married for a long time when they both state the same thing simultaneously, and this moment was no different. roger was croaking the line:

but my body feels so good and i still sing a razor line everytime.

at the same time, right during the pause, BS and i screamed “no you don’t!” yep, statler and waldorf are alive and well and living in arlington. poor roger. he’s 60-something years old, and his voice simply doesn’t have the range it used to — and a lot of the who classics require an incredibly muscular voice. i wonder if zak can sing? (G-d help us all if he sings like his dad.)

anyway, it was fun to see the who. the assembly looked more like an AARP convention, but i guess that’s what happens when a band is around for over 40 years. still, i’d see them again if they’d bother to tune properly. cos who knows — there’s always the chance that pete might whack that whammy bar.

donuts. is there nothing they can't do?

donuts. is there nothing they can't do?

krispy kreme has just introduced a new, whole-wheat donut. hold onto your pants, homer: these 180 calorie pups have 4 or 5 grams of trans fats. i’m just waiting for BC, the world’s second most fervent donut lover (second only to her dad, BS) to petition me for a crate of these, pleading that they’re whole wheat so they’re GOOD FOR YOU, MAMA.

yeah. i hear leeches do wonders, too.

carnival cruise – review from a family perspective

carnival cruise – review from a family perspective

we just returned from our very first cruise, a cruise on the Carnival Ship Inspiration. since folks are always interested in information about family-friendly vacation options, i thought i’d share my .02 in case anyone was interested. eventually, i will do a full review. we (DH, 8 year old BC, 3.5 year old hellboy, and i) went on this cruise not knowing what to expect. we booked it last minute, as it seemed like a really reasonably-priced way to have some fun and visit two ports.

carnival touts its “camp carnival” program as the answer to the cruising parents’ prayers — you get a break while the kids are having fun. camp is available to kids 2 to teen. people we met on the cruise were surprised — their travel agent told them that their 21 month old could participate, but the folks on the cruise told them that he could not, so they had a special friend with them throughout the cruise and no break. it seemed like there was some naptime geared to the under-2 set at lunch time for an hour (this would have been completely useless for my kids had they been at that age at that time — when they were babies, they napped in the a.m. and in the p.m. but not over lunchtime), but other than that, the only thing available to parents with kids under 2 would be paying for babysitting from 10 pm until 3 am. i can’t speak much to the under-two situation, but if you were considering a cruise with carnival, you would be wise to make sure that your expectations are in line with what they offer. oh, and know that anyone not potty-trained may not swim in the pool. any pool. period.

we were surprised to find that camp occurs in spurts. most days, it starts around 9 through noon. then, they close for lunch and reopen at 2 (except on days when they have family events at 1:00 — more on that later.) until about 5pm. they close again at 5 and then sometimes reopen for dinner, sometimes not in the 5:45 range until 10pm. after 10, you must pay for a babysitter — $6/hour for first child, $4/hour for second — which is available until 3 a.m. some of the activities are fun — the older kids built, painted, and exploded a volcano. the younger kids basically played with toys, colored a bit, and listened to stories. but they tout this as an “award-winning program”. who gave the award — sony? my eight year old was surprised that two hours in the day — one in the a.m., one in the p.m. — was dedicated to playing with playstation2 and gameboys. “mama,” she said, “why don’t they ever take us to the pool? we shouldn’t be playing with gameboys on vacation!” this sort of programming smacks of laziness, so much so that if an eight-year-old can figure it out, then i wonder why the children’s programmers cannot. in short, you’d do better at a program at a club med, activity-wise, where they take the kids swimming, do sports and circus activities, painting, and a show. while the kids had fun when they were there, it was due more to being around other kids their own ages rather than due to the programming. (oh — and that 1:00 family program? it’s “build your own bear — carnival cruise bear. for $19.99, of course. like you need to shell out more money and pay for more crap to schlep through customs.)

timing is an issue for people with young children. if you have children that stay up late and wake up late, bully for you. for the rest of us, staying up really late means you’ll pay in a big way the next morning. the allure of partying until 3 a.m. is lost on sleepy parents of young children, methinks. unfortunately, most of the nightlife (shows, events, tournaments) starts at 9:30/10:00, so carnival essentially nickels-and-dimes you for childcare if you actually want to participate in any of the things you came on the boat for in the first place. conversely, if you are like us, you never get to see any of the shows because if you stay up really late, you’ll pay for it the next day when your three year old bounces out of bed very early. in short, cruise ship schedules are not exactly young-family-friendly. the people who dreamed up the schedule on this ship either are childless or live with mary poppins, who cheerfully provides childcare 24/7 and lets the parents sleep in at will.

the dining room was the best part of the trip. i cannot say enough wonderful things about the dining room staff, who remembered that my kids liked chocolate milk at dinner and brought it out each night. they were pleasant beyond compare and downright wonderful mostly. if your kid is a finicky eater, there is pizza and chicken nuggets galore. the food is average (hello — indian food requires actual spices, people), even decent in spots, and i still miss the warm melted chocolate cake. which i ordered. every night. and it shows.

the pools on the ship were quite small (it is a ship, after all), though my eight year old enjoyed the water slide. (i think you have to be 48 inches tall for that.) the kiddie pool, near a little play area, is very small. on our first day, it was filled with things like splenda bags, cigarette butts, and other yuck. my kids adored this tiny pool, though (only 18 inches deep) because when the ship rocked, it turned into a crazy wave pool (unintentionally). eventually, the pool was cleaned out so i didn’t have to wonder what sort of nasty filth my kids were swimming in.

other cruise lines are undoubtedly different from carnival. but the carnival clientele is not dominated by urban parents: it’s predominantly middle america, people from the heartland who smoke aplenty (and they did, which even irritated my kids), drink aplenty (and those drinks with the umbrellas ain’t cheap), and apparently who think it’s cool to get t-shirts from the harley davidson store in grand cayman even though harleys are american. (note: pet peeve alert — the smoking area rules were not enforced at all. if you do not like being around cigarette smoke, you really need to be aware of this.) they were shocked that my kids ate from the sushi bar (and OHMIGAWD what a brave move for carnival to put one on board, open from 5-8 many evenings but very smoky due to its position near a bar) and even more shocked the night they offered indian food.

anyway, that’s pretty much the family angle. i will also point out that the cruise price is just the beginning. everything costs extra. sodas. (my daughter asked for lemonade with dinner, and apparently, that wasn’t considered a juice. $2 + tip, please.) as you can probably glean, i am probably not a cruiser, as i don’t like feeling like i am being nickled-and-dimed for everything. club med sandpiper was a much better value, imho (and no, i don’t work there — i’ve just been there several times) and does a much better job with the kids program. IMHO, carnival should take note.

yep. i'm this generation's erma bombeck

yep. i'm this generation's erma bombeck

BS thinks that i could have a career as this generation’s Erma Bombeck. i guess i have a weird little slant on life that is somewhat universal in nature. i just left him laughing on the couch, thanks to a Lands End leggings and tunic outfit that i’m wearing that is ripped in the thighs. the damn thing is eight years old; i remember buying it soon after having BC because it was stretchy, comfy, and forgiving. but eight, as they say, is probably enough. i sat on the couch, cross-legged, and looked down; then i looked up at him. and i burst into song:

sung to the tune of “Oh Holy Night”

oh, holey pants
my thighs are peeking through them.
it is the time to buy a new fucking pair.

ok. shakespeare it ain’t. but for some reason, he thought it was funny. and there are very few things funnier than when you can get my husband, mr. quieter-than-quiet, to fall over.

maybe you just had to be there…

oh, my nose!

oh, my nose!

with no apologies to marcia brady whatsoever.

yesterday, as hellboy was waking up from his nap, i came over to tell him that BS had put up a tree for christmas and that we were going to go and visit santa’s helper at the mall. we celebrate chanukah in this house, but we also help BS celebrate christmas, too, in a very secular way. (we’re probably more religious than he is.) he was so excited that he accidentally head-butted me in the nose. in short, i think my nose is broken. it hurt so damn bad that i was convulsed in tears for a solid two minutes. “go get daddy!” i told him. he bent over and kissed my head, which of course made me cry more because he was so sweet. “it was an accident – i know you didn’t mean it. go get daddy!”

eventually, he toddled off. i heard muffled voices, then i heard BC walk over and shout, “mommy’s crying, daddy!” yep. i’m sure in about 10 minutes time, jools would have worked his way over to “mama is hurt,” but no matter. BS, in an effort to keep order, told the kids to sit on the couch and watch TV. he assessed my nose in about 5 seconds, went away, and threw a bag of peas over, then promptly left to watch the kids or something.

so there i sat, holding a bag of frozen peas on my nose. not very dignified, huh. i eventually came out of there, blew some of the blood out of my nose (yes, i get prettier as this goes on), and looked at my husband for some sympathy. of course, at this point, he was knee-deep in christmas lights, which only means one thing: stay the hell away from BS. i tell him every year to just get a new set and avoid frustration — it is worth the $20 not to have him bark at all of us because the light in the very middle is out and taking all the other lights out with it. but no. so i sat with my kids, who were very sweet. jools was sad that he had hurt me, and so i of course went into “i’m really ok” mode. (a day later and my nose still hurts.)

so if anyone wonders why the hell i don’t care for christmas, you can put this down as one more reason. christmas is freaking hazardous to your health 😉

waxing poetically

waxing poetically

as i alluded in an earlier post, BS is addicted to LaLa; and now, pusher that he is, he’s got a friend of our’s addicted, too. among the CDs i now possess thanks to Lala is Strangeways, Here We Come, which contains probably my personal theme song, Stop Me If You Think You’ve Heard This One Before. after listening to it ad infinitem, i decided to pull out some other smiths. and it brought me back to college, especially when i heard The Boy With The Thorn In His Side, a song i always associated with a former friend of mine who has pretty much decided he wants nothing to do with anyone who knew him before, i dunno, 1993.

it’s sad how people sort of mean something to you in your life and then sort of evaporate. but that’s what they want, and you have to be respectful of those sorts of wishes, i suppose. what a sad song. i hope it isn’t applicable now, years and years later.

wishing and hoping and praying

wishing and hoping and praying

ya know, i have been trying my best to write something each day in order to keep up with NaBloPoMo, but i’m so exhausted from our day at the National Zoo that i thought instead, i would share with you all my wish list. see, we didn’t do much in the gift-giving department once we got older in my family (we don’t wait until a holiday to give stuff to each other), but my BS has raised it to a fine art. in the desire to help him out, i created a wishlist on amazon. is it complete? hell no. but it’s a start.

of course, if anyone out there wants to buy me socks, have at it 😉

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