Monthly Archives: May 2012

Hey! Got A Spare House Payment? Great! Let’s Go To A Concert!

I am a big Pink Floyd/The Wall/Roger Waters fan. My husband? Even bigger.

So when I saw on 60 Minutes the scope and scale of the Roger Waters show that is touring the country, I was intrigued.

Three years to plan and create this rock opera extravaganza. With 42 high-definition projectors. The screen, flashing images throughout the concert, is 3 stories tall and as long as a football field. Choirs. Orchestras. And Roger Waters, of course.

My husband’s birthday is this summer and I thought, what a treat! I’ll take him to see this amazing concert. And since I get to go, too, it’s a win-win!

Fifty bucks for tickets in the nosebleeds. Hmmmm. Let’s see what it is a little closer to the action. The tickets jump to $199 and $250. And we’re still not even near the floor yet. We’re still waaaaayyyy up there. It’s a pretty huge venue.

(Cue cynical smirk.)

Wonder what the prices are for tickets on the floor?

They start at $575. Or you can pay $1250 to be right on top of the action.

One thousand, two hundred, fifty dollars.

For one ticket.

Just one.

That’s a house payment. Or college tuition payment. Or a monthly paycheck for a teacher.

Twelve hundred dollars and change for the opportunity to be entertained for a few hours.

I’m appalled.

And then I stumble upon this piece about Roger Waters being thrilled that he was able to see Jimi Hendrix and Cream back in the 60’s for about 2 bucks. Recounted as the “deal of his life” Waters said, “It might have been the best purchase I ever made.”

Where is our deal, Mr. Waters?

I am so sick of celebrities: wearing their armbands of support, wearing t-shirts and hats screaming their favorite charity, lending their name and face to a philanthropic endeavor, pleading with us to give all we can and then turning around and agreeing with the venue to charge us a thousand bucks to see them play. I realize the star doesn’t receive all of the profit. But c’mon. A thousand dollars? You’re kidding me, right?

So, I’m curious. What charities does Roger Waters want me to support?

I go to looktothestars.org and search his name.

And this is what I find:

“Charities & foundations supported

None known – if you know of one, please drop us an email”

Not surprising.

Sigh.

We’re not going. Even to sit in the nosebleeds.

I still love the music.

But I am no longer a fan.

(I know there are artists out there that refuse to deal with certain venues or ticket sellers because of outrageous pricing. If you know of any, please list them in the comments section below. Those are the artists I want to support.)

11 Comments

Filed under Music, Soapbox

Blame Game Or Personal Responsibility. I Choose Personal Responsibility.

This is information that bears repeating. Those beautifully colored laundry packets are tempting to young children who think they might be a tasty treat. Keep them away from children. If you need more information, click here.

But seriously. Did anyone really need to click the above link?

Cleaning products are dangerous to ingest and should be kept away from children. 

End of story.

Right?

No.

On my morning news I saw a woman, indignant. Sure, there are warning labels on the packaging but toddlers can’t read. (?!) She feels the detergent industry should take it a step further and make the actual packets childproof.

Now, I don’t happen to use these handy little packets. I pour my detergent in the machine the good ol’ fashioned way. But if the packets were actually childproof how would they dissolve in your machine and clean your clothes? And here’s a thought. How about keeping your cleaning supplies away from your children?

Just a thought.

We are losing our grasp on personal responsibility each and every day. A news reporter felt her opinions on this subject were newsworthy and valuable to the viewers at large. Heck, he probably thought the laundry companies should take note.

I disagree.

When I was about 2 years old I ingested Drano. (Which might explain some things, you may be thinking, but that’s for another blog post.) My mother was horrified. I remember her nails digging into my armpits and I remember water splashing onto  my face. Luckily, there was no permanent damage.

And yes, my mother was horrified.

With herself.

She was unloading groceries, pregnant with my sister and thinking about getting dinner started. She set all the cleaning supplies that she had purchased by the stairs, ready to be transported to the basement cabinet that was higher than I could reach. Then, she started to pull things out for dinner. While she was distracted, however, I saw pretty blue crystals and thought they might taste yummy. They didn’t.

My mother was terrified but thought quickly. She raced me to the tub and cleaned out what she could. She then called poison control. They gave her advice and as far as I know, no further action was needed. Apparently, I hadn’t ingested enough. Thank goodness Drano tastes yucky.

After the terror subsided, my mother was embarrassed. And angry. With herself. She didn’t blame the company for making the crystals blue and pretty. She didn’t blame them for not having a childproof cap. She chastised herself for not keeping a closer eye on me and for leaving Drano within my reach.

Personal responsibility.

Just a thought.

 

15 Comments

Filed under parenting, Soapbox

There Are Times When You Need To Keep The Snark To Yourself

“Well, you know what they say: if you don’t have anything nice to say about anybody, come sit by me!”

One of my favorite lines from one of my favorite movies. And it’s my favorite for a reason.

Because it’s true for most of us, although, we’d never admit it.

I enjoy a good tidbit of gossip. I try not to spread any but I admit, my ears perk up when it’s being shared. Some people have a higher tolerance for it than others. I’d like to think that I know when to stop, know when to keep my thoughts to myself.

But I’m no saint. And there are not many on this Earth that can prove that they are. Saints, that is.

When friends, family or acquaintances are going through especially tough times, I zip it. Major and embarrassing faux pas? Ignored. I’ve been there. I’ve done that. I wouldn’t want my financial or relationship woes savored for entertainment.

But the “What? Not again?” annoyances that pop up? I’ve been known to share with my closest and dearest friends. I’m not proud of it. But apparently, I’m not too ashamed to stop. I call it “unloading” in order to assuage my guilt.

I reign it in when things get ugly or mean.

“There’s never an excuse to be mean” – wise words from my brother-in-law.

Words I try to live by.

Especially in the comment section of a blog post.

A mildly controversial topic that I blogged about months ago, suddenly became popular in the blogosphere. And one individual, who shall remain nameless, had much to say about my take and those of my readers. The comments to my other commenters were just plain mean. Not worth repeating. Not constructive. And frankly, not even argumentative. (Which I may have allowed, if only to encourage discussion.)

And then, after copying and pasting an admittedly, ill-constructed paragraph of mine, little Ms. Snark said:

“Oooooo. Well said. Kudos to you, Oh Great Writer.”

I enjoy a lively discussion. I am not of the ilk who feels if I don’t agree with you, I shouldn’t comment. I like differing opinions. Sharing a point of view that is different from my own is welcomed here. It’s one of the many ways that I grow as a human being.

But gratuitous snark and sarcasm?

That is not welcome here.

Or, anywhere for that matter.

(Yes. The Blogosphere police chief has spoken. Now, run along and comment somewhere else. Constructively. Kindly. And with no malice. You’ll feel much better about yourself afterwards. Trust me.)

13 Comments

Filed under Blogging, Soapbox

Call Me Maybe Boys Vs. Girls

Your Tuesday morning giggle.

The boys…..

vs. the girls….

Love it!

(Apparently, Big Brother thinks I’m getting rich off of sharing the above video with all 23 of my readers. To see this hilarious take of Call Me Maybe go to Youtube and search for Call Me Maybe SMU. It should be the first video to pop up.)

7 Comments

Filed under funny

And A Zen Mother’s Day To You!

image from the New York Daily News

May you find some zen, some quiet, some relaxation this Mother’s Day!

Happy Mother’s Day to all my favorite moms out there!

5 Comments

Filed under Holiday

School’s Out For Summer, Alice, And I’ve Done Nothing But Blog

This is how I want to feel……

But this is how I really feel…..

Today is my last day of freedom. My last day that I have complete and total control over what I do. And then? Let the summer games begin. School is out in a mere 6 days. Six.

Count ’em.

One – Have to work at my  husband’s office.

Two and Three – Long weekend out of town so the boys can sleep on an aircraft carrier for Cub Scouts.

Four – Daughter home from college (yay!) filled with errands and appointments for her.

Five – Chaperone end-of-year activity for #2son’s class.

Six – School play and party for #1son’s class. And the last day of school.

Where did the time go?

I feel like such a failure.

Closets cleaned out? Zero.

Pictures put in chronological order in fancy scrapbooks? Still sitting in a herd of shoe boxes.

Recipe cards organized and alphabetized and sorted? The same jumbled mess that jumps out and bites me every time I open the cabinet door.

Boxes cleared out that have been sitting in the basement since we moved here 5 years ago? Eight. (Thank God, I’ve stumbled onto some progress. I just won’t tell you how many more I have to go through. Thirty-two. Hey! Who said that?)

Lunches with friends while the kids are in school? Two. Two in ten months. Really people. We need to adjust our priorities!

Garages cleaned out? Zero.

Drawers lined with pretty scented paper? Zero.

Books read? Eight. (My goal was 20.)

Blog posts posted? 131.

Oops.

Looks like I just figured out where I’ve been spending all my time.

Eh. That’s OK.

You people are more fun than clean closets and tidy garages.

Way more fun!

14 Comments

Filed under Blogging

She’s Moved On And So Should You

Her crossed arms answered her question before she spoke.

She didn’t have to speak. The look on her face. The trademark crossed arms. Her favored one hip stance. All did the speaking for her.

Disappointment.

“It’s just been such a long week. And I really want to get to the airport,” I tried to explain. Twisting in my chair.

“But what about dinner? You have to eat, ” my grandmother said.

Leaning forward, I tried to justify my actions. “But Anna is so exhausted. I am, too. I’m so sorry. I know we promised but I want to avoid the traffic. We’ll pick up something quick on the way.”

Silence.

“Do you think you’ll be back for Thanksgiving?” she asked, eyebrows raised. Hopeful.

“I’m not sure,” I said, letting my voice trail off. I knew I wouldn’t. Maybe Christmas. Maybe next spring. But I was tired of the 1200 mile journeys. I wanted a break.

“It’s OK,” my sister chimed in, “I’ll bring the kids by next week and we can have lunch.” Trying to come to my rescue. It’s little consolation. I’m the one who lives so far away.

Then we said our goodbyes. And watched her on the driveway with her arms crossed. Not smiling, yet trying not to look disappointed.

Twelve years later the image haunts me.

“You have to stop beating yourself up over this,” my sister says to me over the phone.

I shift uncomfortably. I close my eyes. “I know. But I can’t.”

“There was no way you could know she was going to die. No one knew. She was always so vibrant. Even the doctor didn’t see it coming.”

“But I should have at least had dinner with her like we promised,” my eyes watering remembering my last broken promise to her. “I never even called her. That was the last time we spoke.”

“She’s moved on and so should you.” My sister is tired of this conversation. So am I. But that image of her still haunts me. That last image.

“Do you really think she’s forgiven me?” I ask, standing up now, watching a cardinal on our birdfeeder.

“Yes. She forgave you moments after you left,” my sister sighs into the phone.

“Ok. Thanks.” Not convinced, I hang up the receiver. And walk to the window to watch the birds flit back and forth. Leaning on one hip. Brow furrowed.

And arms crossed.

(This post was inspired by KitchWitch’s post which was inspired by the writing prompt at Write On Edge. Please visit Write on Edge   for more inspired writing!)

13 Comments

Filed under Deep Thoughts, family, Lessons Learned