Balletone, Bakerton, Binks

The New KaBinks

2010-01-03T19:14:00.005-05:00

The New KaBinks

Since I officially began calling myself KaBinks, much has happened. Originally just a Message board name to honor my baby cat, (at the time she was 17), Kabinks has come to mean different things to different people. When I made the decision to actively get involved with helping local bands, Binks became immortal. My baby, Binky lived to be 20, but her name is now linked with mine all over the web and all over the world.
My daily Google Alerts come back in many languages, all speaking the universal language of music. She will be remembered.

My goal is and has always been, to promote LIVE music. To get people off their butt and out to the venue, whether it's a bar or an arena. Recorded music is a different animal and bears little resemblance to the performance experience. One only has to listen to the pre-packaged, over produced swill that passes itself off as "Popular Music" and wonder, what's so great about this.Today's Pop with all those sound effects and over dubs, making pretty people sound halfway decent, using studio musicians, all to sell a product. And dupe you. Where is the great music I grew up with??

It's out there folks, but YOU have to get out of your chair, house, car to experience it.
There are so many talented bands out there, scraping along, trying to make ends meet. YOU are missing it. The electricity that comes off the stage from musicians who are poring their very souls into their performance, that, my friends, is the greatest high you will ever feel. And you can experience it yourself, just inches away, if you only go out and give it a chance. It doesn't have to be some big-name band. Just pick music you like and you will find fresh new songs every bit as good, maybe better, without putting out a fortune to sit in a giant stadium and watch a speck on a stage (while the sound bounces off the walls and becomes incomprehensible).

So, I film and photograph and network and beg bands to let me help promote them (for free) Sometimes, it makes them a bit nervous, what kind of nut does all this for nothing? But, like a line from Inglorious Bastards (new, but my new favorite and sure to be a classic) , 99.9999% there is a catch, but history has shown that fate will extend a hand once in a while (okay, it's something like that) And 99% of the bands I have helped would agree. I'm the same kind of nut who puts their all into religion, or sports, or politics. A nut who is passionate about what they believe. We are all crazy, it's just the degree and intent that matters. My arrow is pointing firmly toward the good side of crazy.

I believe that music is the universal language and live music can bring us all together. Live music makes us alive. I "feel" music. You can too,

Over the next month I will be taking KaBinks Music Promotions to a new level. So much is in the works, it doesn't make sense to start a new "kabinks" pages with established pages already here.
I will be separating all Kabinks pages from my personal life. My Myspace page, KaBinks, will be dedicated to Videos and band promotions. I will still also continue to promote my personal favorite bands on "unofficial"

I will friend each of you(my buds) on my new personal page soon (it's up, just needs some tweaks) don't worry, you'll know it's me.
Happy New Year,
Karen/Binks

I'm just a soul whose intentions are good......

2009-08-31T22:00:00.014-04:00

............Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood. (ahhh, Eric Burdan, what a voice)
Wishful wishing. The problem isn't being misunderstood. The problem is people have a hard time wrapping their minds around the fact that everyone thinks differently. Everyone comes from a different reality, a different place in time, a different thought process. What you think when you're 20 or 50, what your experiences/education has taught you. If only we could be judged by the good we do or the harm we cause. Not what someone else decides or claims to be true.
Let's play Ad-Libs. She dresses like a (insert your stereotype here) she must be ( insert nasty name). He always hangs with (undesirable group) so he probably does (unlawful act). He/she dates a (whatever) so they must be (whatever). Un fortunately the more uncomfortable a person is with their own self image, the harder they judge others. A bad self image causes deep hatred inside. Since we are hardwired to protect ourselves, we lash out at others instead of ourselves. People who seem more comfortable, more happy, more successful than we are. Let's bring them down to our level. If I am walking around the neighborhood, it's not because i enjoy walking, it's because I'm casing out homes for robbery. If I am talking to your boyfriend, it's not because I'm friendly, it's because I'm trying to steal him. If I get home at 3:00am it's not because I decided to hang with some friends after the show, it's because I was shooting up in an alley.
Seven deadly sins, add a couple together and watch the people roll in the mud. Thinking the worse of others makes us happier with ourselves. It's a game people secretly enjoy. EVERYONE is happy to see the person they envy brought down a peg or two. Jealousy/Envy, we all suffer from it once in a while, it's human nature. People just love to hear and spread gossip, "dish dirt", truthful or not. One person, once a close friend of mine said, "awww it's just "Talking Trash" it's not lying". Instead of bettering ourselves, lets just bring them down. Everyone nice and even. Then maybe I'll feel better about myself.
But then, we go too far. The rock starts rolling down the hill. Voicing our jealous suspicions and our envious venom. Stating them as facts and using those false facts to hurt innocent victims. The person who is doing what we want to do, but can't. Lets bring them down, teach them a lesson about being better then us.

Take one envious, middle-aged, bitter, single person and add one gullible, insecure, spouse and have a swig of my life this past year.
I've learned the hard way that a nice juicy story is way more fun for people to believe than the truth. That people just love to find out the worst of someone, especially if it looks like that person was "pretending" to be good. The more you protest your innocence, the more they laugh behind your back. "After all", they think, "I would have done it if I could have, so she probably did too". And " she deserves it, look at how she dances"(envy), "look at how she dresses"(envy) "why, I would never do that" (yea, cause you can't) "She has money and her husband doesn't mind that she travels, what's up with that? It looks fishy to me." (jealousy). "What other reason could she have to go there"(ummm...cause like the other 500 people there, I'm a fan) " She admitted she talked to him"( I talk to every band I film, that's how I get permission )
So, like the old shampoo commercial, she tells someone, and they tell someone, and so on, and so on. You find out who your friends really are and who just rather go along with the company line, it's much easier that way. After all, "It's not really my concern" and "I rather be friends with the more important side". Who really cares? " If they make a 'movie of the week' about it, maybe I'll be outraged for you", but only cause it's the popular thing to do at the moment.

Being proven innocent didn't give Fatty Arbuckle back his career or Bruno Hauptmann back his life. But time heals wounds and it can vindicate. The person who spreads dirt, is dirt. The gullible will always believe what they are told to believe, that is their own purgatory. Self doubt is it's own agony.

I first started blogging in a preemptive attempt to explain who and what I am. As a dancer and a "not too bad looking for my age" female, I have often dealt with misunderstandings by both the opposite sex and their significant others. It's hard for people to understand where I'm coming from until they get to know me. My husband and I are very much married, best friends for 36 years. I spent 30 years raising and caring for my children. I never had a young adult life. I'm just starting to catch on to the club and bar scene. I have an empty nest. I miss caring for others, so I care for young bands who need a little help now and then. I have always loved my dancing and now, without obligations at home, I can go out and dance to the bands I love to follow. The years I've spent videotaping and photographing my children gave me the experience to help bands promote themselves.

I have never wanted anything more then to help promote those things I care about. I have never asked for anything in return, I'm a mom, moms rarely get thanks, it's our job after all .
I only hope that those people I helped and who called me friend would judge me by what I have done for them and not by the gossip stitched together with half truths, hearsay and delusion.
8 months and it still hurts. Injustice is always a bitter pill. Time, give it time........

Baby, do you understand me now?

If sometimes, you see that I'm mad ...

Don't you know no one alive can always be an angel,

When everything goes wrong, you see some bad.

(group harmony) But I'm just a soul whose intentions are good:

(just Burdon) Oh Lord! Please don't let me be misunderstood ...

Easy, Breezy, Beautiful, Colored World I'm In Love With You

2008-07-29T23:41:00.000-04:00

Do you believe you have a theme song? You know. The one that plays in the background as you go about your everyday life (ala every chick sitcom ever made). You spin around, throw your hat in the air, smell flowers, throw a ball to the dog, toss your hair back and laugh. And in the background, your soundtrack plays. Is it slow, classical, fast, bouncy, fun, sad? My song is the one I believe is perfect, at least for me. Every part, describes me. The playful, and yet heavy, guitar work. The complicated, but catchy, beat. The lyrics, so simple but they shine with truth. Then there's the fact that some of my favorite musicians perform it (shut up, I'll NEVER stop being a fan girl). Anyway, the dichotomy that is me, responds to this piece and I see it as a mirror of myself. Maybe this song was written especially for someone else. Perhaps it was just a collaboration between some talented people with no real meaning at all. I just know that since the day I got it, it became mine. When you see me, you’ll know it’s playing in me. My theme song.

Think about it, what song plays in your head all the time? What song have you made your own???

Super Daydreams

2008-07-22T10:09:00.000-04:00

My friend and I are dodging butterflies on the road to the Outer banks. Actually I am the one swerving the car to avoid hitting the fluttering airborne flowers, my friend is winching, fingers dug into the leather upholstery of the rental car. I cry out in anguish every time I'm unable to prevent a collision. My friend groans.

It's a long trip from Raleigh to Kill Devil Hills. We spend the time listening to the I pod & renewing our friendship by offering insights into ourselves that are normally left unsaid. The topic turns to daydreams.

I am a marathon daydreamer, and I admit to it. What I don’t admit to is what I really daydream about. I take the safe course. “If I won the lottery, this is what I would do.” We discuss the pitfalls and merits of dividing our winnings amongst our families and buying gifts for friends. We seem to be on the same page, as usual, that is why we are so close. But at this moment in time, not close enough. I can’t share my number one daydream, it seems silly and self serving. I don’t want my friend to think I’m being all “Mother Theresa”. So I don’t share.

I have a problem with EMPATHY, a huge problem. I have way too much and can’t control it. My family jokes that every time I had a baby, I stole most of it’s empathy before I gave birth. Other people’s pain and trials roll off of my children’s back like water. I sit in that puddle and let it soak me in misery. All I want from this life is for those I love to be happy. That is what makes me happy. Hence my #1 daydream.

I want a superpower. I want the power to heal. I want to make all my family and friends healthy and pain free, both physically and mentally.

I have it all worked out in my head. Somehow I would be able to control the mental production of electrical signals that the body uses and redirect them to where they are needed. I would be able tell another persons brain to make more of this or less of that and send it where it needs to go. I would even be able to do this by concentrating on the person (as opposed to “laying on hands”), in a way that some would call praying. To protect myself from the urge to “HEAL THE WORLD” , my power would be unknown, to myself and to others. When it was needed, it would kick in like an instinctive response. No one would know, and everyone would be happy.

I know, every mom’s dream, to protect her children from hurt. And since I mother everyone, my secret daydream shouldn’t be a surprise to any of the people who really know me. Yea, we all need to suffer in order to grow, but not on my watch…OK?

Just so ya don’t think in need to be Beatified or something, I do have a little bit of self serving reward built into my daydream. Every time I use my power, the energy I generate causes me to lose 5 lbs. When I start getting too skinny, I’m going to be eating Ice cream all the time……ummm and Cadbury chocolate bars.

I know you want a superpower, what is it???

Band Mom

2008-07-16T08:37:00.002-04:00

No I'm not selling frozen turkeys and peanut butter cups for uniforms. Not trying to fund raise with magazine subscriptions for trips to Disney World to perform. The fact is none of my kids were in the High School Band.

My daughters both played Violin in the School Orchestra; they wore their own dressy white shirt with a black skirt or pants. My son was in a garage band (Negative Salute or N/S) for a few years, but they never made it out of the garage. I am a different kind of Band Mom.

I met my adopted sons when they opened for my favorite band during a road trip in North Carolina. Marty and I were already taking a lot of flack for our second C! trip in a month. We didn't care; we were going to see C! 2 more times, AWESOME . In retrospect, it was the second turning point in my life this year.

Reggae/Rock is hard to explain until you've heard it. Anyone who dances loves Reggae, but think of putting in some riff-rock and a hard edge. Mix it up with some honest, hardworking kids (OK, so they're in their 20's, that = kid to me). Add some real catchy lyrics with a twist. Result?? A Band called Lionize.

Serendipity doesn't come close to describing the star crossed events that intersected to give me 4 more sons. Both fortunate and unfortunate events conspired together. I'll try to sort them out.

· Unfortunate; The vocalist for C! was ill (that was a horrible time for all of us); we couldn't find a hotel room near the second show.

· Fortunate; the first show was empty, giving us tons of space to dance. We had to hang out at all day at the venue on the second day.

In Jacksonville NC, we danced our......um.....tushies off to this new sound that we both fell in love with. We brought their CD and played it all the way to Fayetteville, singing along the whole time. Then in Fayetteville, being the only vehicle in the parking lot besides the bands' transportation, we got invited to hang out with members of all 3 bands (AWESOME< AWESOME)

Already in love with the music, we fell in love with the boys.

While C! traveled in their mega tour bus and stayed in hotels, our poor boys traveled in a beat-up van and slept in the back with a generator feeding a jury-rigged Air Conditioner (Yes I know C! started that way too, but that's not my story to tell)

It broke our hearts and we decided we would do anything we could to ease their journey to success. We adopted them.

So what does my brand of band mom do???? Whatever we can do to care for them when we go to see them and whatever we can do to promote them all the time.

Hopefully, the little things we do will help them get where they want to be a little faster, make things a little easier, and make them happy to have met us and invited us into their world.

That's all a mom can hope for.

Remember tripping on the Third of July?

2008-07-04T12:20:00.005-04:00

I don't know about you, but I always thought the night before a holiday was the best part. Christmas Eve, the night before Easter, last minute preps on Oct. 30th. Once the holiday arrives, it's over. All that work, and it flies by in a few hours. Thats why I love the 3rd of July celebration the Cape May Lewis Ferry throws for the neighborhood down here in North Cape May. Every year DRBA (Delaware River Bay Authority) tows a barge out into the bay behind my house. The beach drive is closed to traffic and amusement companies set up rides and carnival games. Being on the bay(right above where it meets the ocean) the sunsets here are spectacular. After the sun goes down, the sky is a rosy palette of purple and orange. As it fades to violet, the first rockets go off. They always send a couple up, and then give people about 10 minutes to walk up from their homes. People are parked and double parked up and down the streets leading to beach drive, but we just stroll around the block.Everyone along the beach block decorates their house. I live one block off the beach, lots of other people around us decorate too. Almost every house has a huge party going on, we tease each other the next day about who's party was better, based on who was out the latest. We DID NOT win this year. As soon as the beach road is closed , at around 3, we head up to check out the houses.The afternoon breeze kicks up and we stroll along greeting people we really only talk once a year.This year the walk took longer, everyone was interested in seeing the twins for the first time.It's funny how many people ask if they're identical, even though they are obviously different sexes.

I got a real late start this year, only had a day to prepare. The first job is making sure I have enough beds. This year I had 13 people crash here.My little cottage has 2 tiny bedrooms and a futon in the living room. Our solution is the bring down our camper and park it in the back yard. Then we have an extra bathroom and 8 more beds. Setting up the camper is a real bear for me, It was just me , with little O , and It was HOT. I never did get the whole lawn cut, and I was still decorating on the morning of the 3rd. I got finished in time, and was able to cook up all the food (except the brownies, K is the queen of the brownies) Finally I was ready to relax, The beach was jamming (our beach is usually deserted, it's one of those "best kept secrets")

We watched the Ferry go out one more time and then we greeted our guests.

My sister came over with her family of 4, also her stepdaughter, hubby, and her granddaughter, Avi. G's dad and some friends stopped by too. We always have a hysterical time when G's dad shows up.Dinner was simple, Fillet Mignon on the BBQ, Pot salad, Mac salad, pot skins, coleslaw, asst fruit, corn. and blueberry pie, blueberry cookies for dessert (and of course those brownies) My husband and I cracked open a magnum of White Star (our favorite champange)

We drank and ate and partied like it was the 4th of July. (but it was Independence Eve)

Here we are, enjoying our private holiday.Finally, the sun sets and we head up to the beach, laughing at the people fighting over parking spaces.

O is old enough this year to enjoy the show.There is a breeze blowing and that means NO MOSQUITOES tonight. The show is real long, even the finale is 10 minutes long.Then we get to stroll on home. Sit in the yard and party while people sit in their cars and wait till traffic thins.It was a LONGGGGGGG Day, so we didn't win the latest going party award this year. Those with kids, left by midnight. I just had to wait for a turn in the shower, I never made it. Now it is Independence Day, We'll can relax on the beach, or just hang in the yard. There's a pool next door, that we have an open invitation to. There's bikes in the shed. We'll just have dogs and burgers tonight, Easy.......plus there's plenty of left overs.I love the July 4th at my little shore house, because it's 2 days long (and I can nap during the second one) Tonight we'll head up to our now empty beach and shoot off our own fireworks over the water. Happy 4th!!!!!!Are you shooting off any rockets today???

To Clean up Poo, or not clean up poo ? That's the question.

2008-06-30T08:20:00.013-04:00

7:30 last night, I'm dragging my rug cleaner from room to room. The upholstery attachments are slung over my shoulder. Outside the weather continues to build into huge storms, then suddenly break back into hot-humid air. I have the AC on, but I'm still feeling sweaty and miserable. Wasn't it just a couple days ago that I was crowing about how nice it was to have my family around me. Stupid family, I drag the equipment into another room(why does this stupid house have so many rooms?). I am on a quest to find a missing diaper, and I'm cleaning the poo trails along the way.

Early in the afternoon, I was happy as could be, every thing was neat, I had done 3 loads of laundry(I love doing laundry). My bookwork was all tidied up at the store, ready for the end-of-month billing(today). I had a couple chickens roasting in the oven (yeah, I know, roasting when it's 95 outside; sounds dumb but I feed 4 adult males, and they want meat.) I was actually taking a (Suduko) break, when my daughter and her fam. arrived. They were going over to the pool (at my in-laws house) I was going to stay home to finish dinner and feed the babies. Everything is going like clockwork, twins fed and rocking in their swings, dinner ready to come out of the oven, when things took a dramatic change.

The first hiccup, in this wonderful "family having dinner together scene" , was when I spilled hot grease down my arm while dogging a falling butcher knife, resulting in a nasty burn on my forearm, and grease all over the floor.(but the knife did miss my bare foot). Temperature rising,(I am Irish), deep breaths, assure O that Gam is OK, carry on.
Dinner goes fine, O(as always) stands up when he's done and he runs off to play. We sit and chat, all that fun, family dinner table stuff. When J goes to check on what her little boy is up too, all hell breaks loose.

J: " AHHHHHHH, OMG!!!!!!!"
US: "What, what happened, whats wrong?"
J: "O's diaper is missing and he pooped all over."

Now J swears she put a diaper on her son after swimming; he looked like he had a diaper under his shorts when they returned.
People being running in every direction. My husband grabs the phone and announces he has to answer the order line for the next day at the store. W(the great dad) decides this would be an excellent time to go to the office and read my blog. G decides to play the piano(to drown out the women screaming, I guess).

ME: " Where is it"?
J:" all over".
K: " eeewww, it's on the sofa and the ottoman".
J: " Where's the diaper"?
ME & K: " Where's the.......Diaper??? You can't find the diaper??"
ALL the Girls: Find the diaper !!!
J: "W, we need help, NOW"
W: "I can't hear you, I'm reading your mom's blog".
K: "G, help us look".
G: "huh...?"

The girls run to every room, but there is no diaper to be found. The best we can tell, he must of undone the tabs (cause they make him itch) and the diaper must of fallen out of his shorts(his shorts are loose because he is a beanpole). Then, when nature called, he let his masterpiece slid down his leg, onto the floor, and stepped in it; subsequently dragging it all over the house and furniture.

So, at 7:30, I'm cleaning every inch of carpet and upholstery in the house(J, did wipe down the hard surfaces with Lysol before she took her poopy family home). The burn on my right arm rubs against the handle of my Rug Doctor, I grit my teeth. After dinner is the time I unwind and catch up on e-mail. Stupid Family, stupid poo.

As I start on my office i take a quick glimpse at my inbox. There is a message I had been waiting for from a close friend that I had not heard from in a while. I am dying to see what he has to say, but the poo is still fresh and easy to find now. What to do? Sit down and I can get lost online for hours. I really want to read that letter.

At 7:31 I am dragging my rug cleaner to another room, When poo calls, you answer the call.

So, how was your day????

I am NOT A GROUPIE, I am a fan

2008-06-28T15:10:00.005-04:00

Sure,whatever…..

Amazing the lies we tell ourselves, and pretend it’s the gospel truth.

I know I crossed the line between fan and groupie as soon as I traveled outside of my area to see C! . When I stopped thinking about catching them this year and started thinking about how many times I could catch them. When distance became no object and I discovered Southwest’s online “get-away” fares. And when my husband’s long running joke was no longer funny.

Me: “Look at the money we saved on this” (indicating a bill, or a purchase, or something we did ourselves instead of paying someone

Him: “Better put it in the Clutch fund”.

Anyone could see it was coming. A couple of Christmas’ ago, my son nailed it first. After a half dozen people (himself included) received C! hats, tees, & CDs, B declared “Sure looks like Clutch is having a Merry Christmas”. Later that year he told me I ruined C! for him. Every time he was getting into the music, he’d think of me.( yeah boy, that ain’t cool).

I say the problem I have with the label is the negative connotations it has. But in truth, being a groupie is just downright embarrassing for me.

The real problem is, the band is made up of people. And those people can’t be on the stage all the time. I don’t really know those people, and they don’t know me, but we sure as hell recognize each other out on the street. Being a groupie means you hit town early and check out the venue first. (looking for those pesky, no camera signs). Inevitably the bus is outside and the guys are either carrying stuff in, or walking around the area on their cells(happy to be outside). I know who they are. I know they know who I am (is that proper English?). So I’ve got to pretend I don’t see them, or acknowledge them.

Most of the time, I’m caught like a deer in headlights, with no time to recover. For the longest time I got away with a small smile and nod. Then it started to feel rude.

After all, these guys are also in smaller bands. When I go to see those bands we are all hanging in a smaller club, or bar all night. Sooner or later I’d have to start talking to them. Something is just not right when you are hugging the Techs, Roadies, and Merch guy at every show, but are ignoring the people you admire the most. All I wanted was to talk to each of them briefly, so I would no longer feel so star struck every time I bumped into one of them.

The Drummer was the easiest, he is famous for being accessible to the fans, and is really just the nicest guy (OK K, you’re letting your preference show). I got to talk to him over a year ago when the played in a tiny place(MAXWELL’S) in North Jersey. Now, we can nod at each other like old friends.

The Guitar player was next, I ran into him behind another small club(REX’S) and unfortunately for me, had had a couple drinks first.

Me: “I love you guys”

Him: “Thanks”

Me: (in my head) Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Him: (in his head) isn’t she that crazy old woman who dances like Elaine?

The Vocalist, forget about it, I’m am scared to death of him. I think he could look into my soul with his intense eyes. It didn’t help that at a recent TBG show, a well meaning friend shoved me into his face to introduce me. I don’t even know what I said, but I’m going to count him as done.

That leaves the Bass player, supposedly even shyer then I am (or was). After months of trying to come up with something original to say, I had a sudden thunderbolt of inspiration! The perfect thing to say, it wouldn’t embarrass either of us.

Me: Where’s your wife?

Him: Around here some where.

Ta Da…………!

So, are you a fan or a groupie ?? Can you talk to the object of your idolization? Who is it and what was your opening line?

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Don't take this the wrong way, but are you TWO A COUPLE??

2008-06-27T07:54:00.004-04:00

That's the second most often question we are asked when we are out together. Who is we? We is my Co-Mom and Me. Marty was the one who came up with the term. Now we sometimes modify the name to Co-Grandma and I will refer to Marty as my partner in crime. But we are the Co-Moms. At one time the only thing we had in common was the fact that my Daughter, J, was dating her son, W (we call him B, but since my son is also a B I'm gonna get all formal).

Now we are a legend in our own minds. When we show up at dance class, the girls all say "what have you two been up to this week"? Our shared hairdresser can't wait to hear our tales. Our husbands roll their eyes, but put up with our antics (sometimes) all the time asking, how much is this going to cost? Our kids laugh. W is more understanding and tolerant of our escapades (as long as we fulfill all the duties he expects of us). J is mostly supportive. But my other 2 have declared us insane and shake their heads sadly when they see me heading to the door with my travel bag (you know they're just jealous).

We are very alike and not at all alike. Each of us has added things that the other was missing. We inspire each other, and egg each other on. Together we are double trouble.

This year we are really pushing the limit. Instead of driving to shows , we are flying. Instead of one show, we'll follow the tour for a bit. (till our families patience runs thin). I think this is the first time ever I canceled classes, not for snow or illness, but for fun. Marty has taught me it's Ok to go away and have a little vacation by yourself. I have taught Marty that it's OK to stand up on the rail and talk to bands (they're just people too).

Here are some of the antics my co-mom and I have enjoyed this year;

We Flew into NOLA for 1 day, spent the day walking the streets(stopping to refill our plastic cups numerous times).Met with friends, Attended a concert. Hung out at the bar till the wee hours and flew home hung-over/happy (and I ate Oysters !).
Flew down to North Carolina for 3 days. Followed the bands from show to show. Hung out behind the Tour bus and (um hum) partied. Made the guys from Sweden roll with our stories (they can't believe America, a place where you hang out with grandma's before a show). And Marty was introduced to Goldshlager(she was best friends with it one night, the next day she vowed to never touch it again!)
Drove down to Baltimore for a show in the middle of nowhere, I treated a couple bands to granny's famous home baking and after the show, we hung out upstairs in the "smoking room" with our newly adopted sons.
Threw a huge "spur of the moment" Reggae Bash in my back yard, again with our adopted sons,
Totally aced our dance recital, even though we spent the night before in DC seeing another one of our favorite bands.(we were pretty well behaved that night)

Celebrated the end of our servitude (babysitting) by getting a pedicure, No biggie right? Wrong, I snuck in champagne in big water bottles, told Marty it was favored vitamin water(she brought that story for 2 seconds), and we got totally looped while the little Asian girls started rolling their eyes like our husbands.

But the biggest thing we shared this year was the birth of our joint, second and third grandchildren. Our lives are rich and full, because we celebrate both the biggest and the smallest things, together. Sometimes I say to Marty(while we are running around our kid's house getting bottles, changing diapers, cleaning the kitchen) this must be what it's like to live in a Mormon house, except for the sharing one husband part( ick !!).

So what’s the thing MOST people ask/say when they see Miss Marty and me

together??

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you two don’t look like the typical Clutch fans”.

Do you have a partner in crime???

Forever Young ??? Yep !

2008-06-25T21:32:00.000-04:00

A funny thing happens when your children grow up. One night you look around and realize you've been left behind. The people you stayed home to watch and entertain every night of your adult life have gone out with new friends and you feel lonely. It really isn't funny, I mean, you didn't see me laughing when it happened to me 5 years ago.

Getting married right out of high school was a very 70's thing to do. The problem was, starting so young; you never get to enjoy the grownup things in life. In fact, you don't even know what they are. Imagine, you can't drink at your own wedding. Married 2 years, living in my own house, daughter 11 months old, that’s when I could legally have my first drink.

C (adored hubby) is a business owner and the business comes first, 7 days, 80+ hours per week. So I was home (when I wasn’t working P/T at his business) ALWAYS. I was DP (Designated Parent) 24/7 until my last little baby got her driver’s license and drove away without me.

Am I old? Do I have to spend the rest of my life doing genteel old lady stuff? Hell No! I was 45, but I felt like I was 25 and NOW, I'm having some fun.

Unfortunately for me, all our adult friends were happy to continue their lives where they were. No time travel for them. So, step one, meet new people. What to do?? Well, K and her friends are out (too young), B and his friends are out too (too wild and promiscuous). That leaves J, who is soon to be a bride and her Fiancé who just happens to be in a band that plays nightclubs. This sounds promising.

Went to see a show, liked the whole deal, and became a groupie at the ripe young age of 45. Once you take that first step towards the unknown, each one get a little easier.

Here are some other big steps I took in the summer of 2003, when I discovered my wings.

After years of teaching dance, finally went to workshops and got certified as a Balletone/Pilates instructor.
Missing the discovery through the eyes of a child, I invited my young niece to go on our annual week long camping trip.
Started to actually start conversations with people and learn how to go from the outside to the inside of a group.
Discovered Clutch.

Summer of 2008, I’m still taking new steps in every direction. But 2003 was a huge leap forward in my evolution. Now I believe that anything is possible and I think twice before deciding against doing things that may be difficult.

I have a mental list, I expand on it everyday. New goals to accomplish. Things unthought-of yesterday. I want to learn to play the drums. I want to hike in every National Park. I want to sleep in the desert tonight (just kidding). And I want to see the inside of that damn tour bus.

What do you still need to do?

Momaholics Untie (LOL)

2008-06-23T21:13:00.000-04:00

Now you all know I am a Momaholic (Addicted to being a mom). I admit it’s a sickness. It’s not enough for me to feed my family. No, I have to go out of my way to insure that even my children who have moved out try to sit at the table every night. It’s not that I want them there(not saying I don’t). It’s not even that I enjoy cooking all that much (even though I’m referred to as “The Italian Mother, who just happens to be Irish”). I just can’t seem to stop myself from doing things to help people, or at least trying to. My family likes to tease me about it, but just let me go away for day. It’s the end of the world.

Tonight’s topic at the table, which included J, her husband, little O, & the negative twins (sounds like a band!) was about how I would rhapsodize tonight about my broken microwave vegetable steamer. The negative twins were moaning about how stupid blogging was and why should they have to read it(kids, on the cusp of 21, know everything) The married couple was complaining that I must have too much time on my hands, since I have time to write. They had big plans for my free time, all involved me taking the twins (the real twins, not the negative ones). My hubby, as predictable as the seasons, kept his eyes down and his mouth full (as a middle child, he knows how to stay out of trouble). So where was I? Standing at the counter, because the kitchen table only seats six, listening to my families’ debate. I was smiling to myself. I am so lucky to have this. Twin 4 month olds asleep on the sofa, my 22 month old pride and joy throwing rice in the air, my adult children(and childen-in-law) arguing over who does more to help me, and my other half enjoying what I made for him.

But, I am going to miss that steamer!

Taking Multitasking up a Notch

2008-06-22T21:26:00.000-04:00

As I’m sweating Vidalias for homemade cheesesteaks, I’m thinking about the best topic to start this Blog space off. Should I start off funny right away to “Grab” people, tell about myself, explain my Blog space title? Stories run through my head. There’s not much room in there. I am also, checking my time, preparing the other elements dinner, running the list of things I need to pack in my car for my trip, wondering why I decided to steal my grandson and invite my mother on the little getaway I will be heading out on in less than an hour, and why did I just call mom an hour ago and offer to drop off dinner for her and Dad before we leave? Let’s see, B (my son) likes me to use chicken instead of steak and wants hot peppers, onions, & ketchup. K (my daughter) and G (her live-in fiancé’) want to eat later. They want the meat and onions packed separately, so they can assemble their sandwiches later without soggy rolls. My hubby will eat anything I place on his plate, but for him I go “all out”. Wait a minute; I’m going all out for all of them.

Tourists think a cheese steak is a gooey mess, dripping with grease and cheese wiz, purchased on the street in center city. Those are the Mickey D version of Philly’s favorite sandwich. Way to get sick, fast. My steak sandwiches involve more steps than even Alton Brown would consider. I have the oven on constantly (the oven? Isn’t this a fried sandwich)? Preparing the Italian rolls is one of the most important steps. To cut down on drippy mess, everything is cooked separate and drained. Each sandwich assembled for the preference of the recipient. Yes, I am insane, but more on that later.

Here is my recipe for Philly cheese steaks (with apologies to my vegetarian friends)

· Long Italian rolls (Amaroso preferred)
· Good quality chipped steak ( like steak-umms)

· Deli sliced real American cheese

· Sweet onions (Spanish, or in spring, Vidalias)

All ingredients must be prepared simultaneously. (Have fun!!)

Rolls- slice, open, put in 350 oven till turning gold, cover all inside surface with sliced cheese, return to oven till cheese melts, add ketchup (for those who want it), return to oven.

Steaks, in a deep pot, heat a few tablespoons of virgin olive oil, break steak into pieces, cook over slow heat, turning every minute or so (to keep bottom from overcooking). When there is no more pink showing, dump steak into colander and pat with paper towels.

Onions- Slice, sweat in butter over medium heat, Keep onions from becoming brown, when onions are translucent and limp, drain and dump on paper towels.

Assemble, according to each person’s wants. Onions (or not), steak, more onions (or not) ketchup (or not), Cheese broken in strips and laid diagonal across finished sandwich, put back in the oven till cheese melts.

That’s pretty much how I make them. Now I will throw some reserved onions back in the pan and fry up some thin chicken breast strips with diced long-hots for B’s sandwich)

Of course if you want a real challenge, try making it this way, the way I did this time.

· Start cooking all ingredients, start making the ice tea, run to throw the wet clothes in the dryer, check food, start dialing phone, continue to run down mental list, sing same 4 lines of current SSIH (song stuck in head) to yourself.

· Check food(turn down onions, remove rolls), Tell daughter what time you’ll pick up O. Glance at food , end call, run to other side of house grab something you almost forgot to pack, check e=mail on way back to kitchen(might as well, it’s on the way). Run back to kitchen, continue meal prep, Start second pitcher of ice tea, where did I put my camera??, Find camera and throw it in suitcase. Back to kitchen, stir meat, rolls out again, turn off onions. Phone rings, answer phone, tell son what time his meal will be ready. Set table, get O’s little car from the patio and put it in back of car, smile at hubby (who is drumming his fingers on table). Rolls out again. SSIH still spilling from mouth.

· Finish all cooking, start assembly. Pour ice tea in glasses, call upstairs on intercom for kids. Damn, I almost forgot………run to get item and throw in car. SSIH starting to annoy me, turn on TV (Seinfeld’s on) Get hot sandwiches from oven, cut each in half, put in front of starving family.

· Sit to eat(yes, I got to do that), Jump up and clean up kitchen, wrap 2 sandwiches in tin foil and return to oven, Run to get last items in car. Check E-mail, turn off computer. Load and start dishwasher. Kiss hubby goodbye, grab hot, wrapped sandwiches and run to car, while yelling over shoulder “please keep kitchen clean, and don’t forget to feed cats”

· In car, turn IPOD on, choose same SSIH. Drive to parent’s house, drop off dinner. Drive to daughter’s house, pick up O. Drive back to parents, pick up mom.

· Finally, drive 2 hours to shore. Unload everything. Find out the person who borrowed the house last weekend didn’t clean up or do laundry. Start washer.

Ahhhh, nothing like a relaxing 2 day- get away to the shore. What could be more fun than cutting the lawn with a whinny toddler wrapped around your legs? A chance to kickback and weedwack(cause no one has bothered, even though they promised to. Look at the glorious Vinca choking the gardens! Marvel at how much dust can accumulate. When was the last time house was cleaned?? Oh, yea, the last time I was there.

So this is my first blog post. I decided to tell about myself. I am a mother, who doesn’t know when to stop, and really wouldn’t want to. That is me in a nutshell (figuratively and literally.) Sure, I bitch and complain, but isn’t it obvious I do it because I want to. It makes me happy to take care of everyone, so I do.

Getting Started.........Why?

2008-06-19T14:31:00.000-04:00

Why not ? Though I'd give it a try.