Dr. Feelgood

"Vince Neil of Motley Crue plays tonight at the casino. Is it more lame that I want to go or that I won't because it's on a Thursday night?"

This was a tweet that I wrote several weeks ago. My Twitter account is linked to my Facebook page, and out of all the things I've written, this has by far caused the greatest reaction. The final verdict was yes, I was more lame for not wanting to go out on a Thursday evening. At that point, I had no choice but to go - however the trickier part was finding a cohort.

Husband was never into hair metal, and when pressed said he would go "...if you really want me to." He was visibly relieved when my friend Jaqson agreed to accompany me. I could find no better chaperone and was thrilled to have her come along to the show.

In 1983, Jaqson and her mom took me and our friend Dierdre to see Aerosmith - my very first concert, down in Los Angeles. We went to junior high school together and for two years of our lives spent every Friday night at the Rollercade. She painstakingly drew band logos on the white boots of my skates: Judas Priest, AC/DC, Van Halen, Motley Crue, to name a few. What I would give to still have those skates, not only for posterity but because they totally kicked ass.

In those days, my concert attire usually consisted of a tiny concert tee, skin tight pants and included such accessories as a rhinestone cat collar worn on my wrist. When I was feeling especially classy, I'd use a bike chain and lock for a belt.

The clothes, lifestyle and music worried my mother greatly. Statements such as "Mom, they're saying 'Shout At The Devil', not 'with' the devil..." did little to comfort her.

So, even though it was one of the shortest concerts that I've been to, coming in at just over 75 minutes long, and even if it wasn't the whole band - it was worth it. Nostalgia can be sweet like that.

I'm With The Band

Boy started taking drum lessons when he was 7 years old. In what is clearly a mark of our good parenting, one of the first songs he learned was AC/DC's You Shook Me All Night Long.

I blame it all on musical genes -  not mine but Husband's, who has traveled all over the country to see his favorite bands play. Musical ability and appreciation runs in his family, big time.

A year ago, Boy and Girl decided to form a band; she would sing and he would play the drums. At their age, you're in a band because you say you are - so I didn't think anything would come of it. I was mistaken. In November, 2010 Boy invited two friends to join them and it became Official. Last October, their band auditioned with 8 other bands in their age division and made the finals.

Although they didn't place for one of the cash prizes, I was completely unprepared for the emotional roller coaster of seeing my kids on stage playing to a sold out show. It blew my mind to see my daughter perform with such confidence and poise. Playing up a whole age group, my son rocked it hard and played better than some of the boys who were four years older than him.

There is no way I would have had the guts to do anything like that at their age, let alone now. Rock on - your mom is so very proud! \m/ \m/

Holiday Party

Last night we were at Husband's holiday work party. I got a quick glimpse of a short, Asian man wearing a white jacket and sporting some impressive sideburns near the bar.

I thought he was an Elvis impersonator and excitedly thought, "This party is about to get interesting!" Turned out he was one of the waiters.

Paradigm Shift

While I was waiting at an intersection mid-day, I watched a grade school-aged girl ride her bike through the crosswalk with her dad.

As my eyes followed her across the street, I wondered if she was home-schooled,  maybe - since it was the middle of the afternoon on a school day. In the lovely notion I've held, I imagine that all home-schooled children spend their days happily baking cookies beside their mothers, while learning fractions as they measure out chocolate morsels.

She must have felt my eyes watching her, because then she stuck her tongue out at me. And I was all, WTF?! OH. NO. YOU. DIDN'T!

Bedazzled

I got my first pair of glasses when I was 10-years old. I remember driving home and noticing that trees had individual leaves. The novelty was short lived. I was embarrassed and hated wearing them. I thought they made me look ugly and I was forever 'forgetting' them at home.
 
The truth was that I needed them terribly and couldn't see anything without them. If my teacher wrote something on the board to copy, I would look at the person writing across from me. Outright copying was out of the question - my vision was too bad for that, so I would carefully watch the way the top of their pencil moved as they formed letters. It would have been easier to just wear glasses for the amount of trouble I went through, but there was no convincing me otherwise.

Each of the students in my class had a job or responsibility. Through a cruel twist of fate, I ended up being the projector monitor. My job was to set up the projector for any movies or slides that the class watched. While I silently cried at the back of the room, I remember the kids yelling, "Focus! Focus!" and the teacher gently asking me if I truly could not see well enough to focus the projector. After that, the jig was up and I wore my glasses during class.

At 13-years old, I got contact lenses. This was a huge boost to my confidence and I was thrilled to get them. The compromise was that I had to wear gas-permeable, or hard, contact lenses since I was so young and my eyes were still developing. As I got older, my friends who wore soft contact lenses struggled with eye infections and torn lenses. I decided it wasn't worth the hassle of switching and stayed with hard contact lenses, which I still wear to this day. Recently, when I tried to make an appointment with my optometrist, I was disappointed to learn that he no longer saw gas permeable patients and I was referred to a different eye doctor.

After a having my eyes dialated and a thorough exam, I was sent into the office to pick out a new pair of frames; the only problem was that I couldn't see anything. I ended up selecting a pair that I thought only contained a small jewel on the side of the frames.
Once my vision returned to normal, I realized that my frames had many jewels within a decorative square with designer initials stamped on it. They are completely heinous and nothing I would have picked with undilated vision. They remind me of something after it's been decorated by a girl with one of those kits where you accent everything you own with sequins and jewels.

When the light catches the frames just right in the evening, Husband will softly whisper, "Bedazzled..."

Fish Bait

There is a fashion trend over the last year that has gained huge momentum. It involves having a dyed feather beaded into your hair. Although it's popular among women, Stephen Tyler was sporting a few on American Idol.

Last week, I saw a woman in her late 60's with not only feathers, but jewels and tinsel as well. A little hair accessorizing goes a long way. My thought was how ridiculous she looked - like a fishing lure gone wrong.

Just Like The Big Dogs Do

For my 40th birthday, I received a homemade card with a beautiful illustration of a chocolate lab from Girl. Our 14-year old chocolate lab died several years before, and everyone in my family was ready for another dog - except me. My fate was pretty much sealed.

Husband adores big dogs and males are typically bigger than females, so that's what he wanted. Girl and Boy wanted a puppy instead of an older dog. When we went to look at a litter, everyone was set on one of the two puppies in particular - the hyper, assertive pup that bowled Boy over and untied my shoelaces with his needle teeth. I'm no dog whisperer but an outgoing, confident pup quickly turns into a ninety-pound, leg-humping maniac.

I asserted that since this was my gift, I would have the final decision. I chose the other puppy that was friendly but a little quieter, with beautiful dark brown fur. I worried about having a male dog for several reasons - I was afraid of a male dog picking fights with other dogs and the constant marking on bushes and trees seemed like a total drag. I needn't have worried, though; Puppy had the sweetest nature without an aggressive bone in his body.

We have trained our dogs to pee and poop in one area of the backyard. It was a brilliant stroke on my part; it keeps the lawn nice and there are no bombs in the grass the step on. Once trained, however, Puppy would only potty there. We'd come back from a walk and he'd race to the side of the house to relieve himself.

We enrolled him into a puppy class for socialization and to learn basic obedience skills. From there, we progressed to an intermediate class that focused on heeling, sit and down stay and good manners. I asked the instructor why it was that Puppy had a 'shy' bladder and would only go at home. She said that dogs pee on things to mark their territory, and explained that Puppy was afraid to stake claim in someone else's area - just in case the dog was waiting around the corner to jump him. It took a year before Puppy would pee during walk. He'd cautiously squat and make a quick pee if he really, really had to go. As he got more confident, he would even poop.

Next month, Puppy will be three-years old. This whole time he's squatted to pee, like a girl dog - until today. Puppy lifted his back leg to pee just like the big dogs do - even though he was a little wobbily trying to balance on three legs.