Sunday, April 8, 2012

More gas, More beer,

Wishing you a Happy New Year!

Without breaking it up "More Gas, More Beer, Wishing you a Happy New Year."  This was supposed to be the saying on the Christmas Card two years ago - Christmas 2010.

Christmas Cards are MY thing.  I'm all about the Christmas card.  Yes, now there are electronic cards.  And we really don't get as much mail as we used too.  BUT, December - it's my month.  AND I HATE DECEMBER.  (but December has NOTHING on FEBRUARY),

Martha Stewart comes SCREAMING out of me - sometimes.  BUT Christmas cards - I'm ALWAYS Martha.

2010 was a big year.  I took my sons to Moab, UT for the first time.  To the "Russo Puppy Party".  Easter Weekend.  This year, was our third year. 

Duncan was 12.  My friend Ed, whom I've know since I was 19 - decided 12 was the age you learn how to drive.  Seriously.  I come back from a motorcycle ride and Duncan has driven a Land Rover.  (Wait, I had the boys, you had the girl, and you still get all the fun!!!).

They learned to drive, they learned how to drive motorcycle's and they got to shoot the adult men in the buttocks with a BB gun. My sons will never be the same - it changed their lives forever. (Duncan learned to drive the Land Rover.  THEY both learned everything else.  THEY will never be the same)

Then there is a place called "Potato Salad".

Side note:  I like nice things.  I like my nails done.  I like my hair done.  And I can also camp for 4 days without a shower - NOT a nice thing, but I can play with the boys)

Then there is a place called "Potato Salad"  - yes, I know, I repeated that.  You Tube It.  It doesn't get much more white trash than this.  

Basically, you watch trucks try to climb this hill (we've never seen one flip - one can only hope!).  People cheer.  It's hysterical.  There is a girl driving and the crowd yells "More GAS" - she yells back "I need more beer".  The story was born....

2010 - I ran my first marathon.

HOW THE HECK DO I COME UP WITH A CHRISTMAS CARD FOR THIS YEAR?

Boys suggestion:  "More Gas, More Beer, We are wishing you a Happy New Year".

I JUST couldn't do it.  I would have to do two Christmas cards - one for the group that would understand, another for everyone else.  For the first time in probably 20 years - I didn't send one.

Although, I probably should have.  It will always be the year I didn't send a card, but we all know what it said.

PS - It's only April, and well this year, it should be good......


Sunday, April 1, 2012

He still thinks he has "game"

His name was Tom.  I don't know his last name.

He was 88.  He was from Chicago.  His wife passed away 20 years ago.  He had a lady friend.  She didn't like to go out.  Wait, yes she did, just not past 8.  She golfed with him.  Had dinner with him.  Then Tom would take her home and go out in Cherry Creek.

His eyes were very blue and could see through to your soul.  And at 88 years old was still very charming.  Sharp as a tack.  Could talk about anything and everything.  During his career, he was the #1 sales guy at his company and still wore a sales ring.  The ring was an award for his career.  I THINK he was in car sales, but I could be wrong.  He also lost a daughter, after his wife.

I have never understood the Anna Nicole Smith story.  He was WAY old.  She was VERY young.  And yes, I too, thought she was a gold digger.  My first instinct was to say "Yes, she's after his money".

Then I met Tom.  Truth be told, I don't even know the name of Anna Nicole Smith's old rich husband.  I was just fascinated with the story.

But when I met Tom, I thought for the first time, we could all be wrong.

Could I have married this guy?  No.  No doubt about it.

For a moment though, I HOPE he (Anna Nicole Smith's first husband) was a guy like Tom.

I hadn't seen Tom since October.  I was sorta in hibernation for the winter and didn't go out much.  Although, I've been out and about the last few weeks and hadn't seen him.  I knew I needed to ask.

The last time I saw Tom, it was a Wednesday night in October.  I was out with a "male friend" for dinner.  He passed away the following Tuesday.  Same Tom - to his defense, he wasn't the guy whom would sit at the bar and tell you his stories.  He smiled.  He laughed.  He asked questions.  And he flirted with you. He didn't care if you were sitting with someone else.  You didn't really care either, you wanted to talk to Tom.  He was very handsome - still.  Or maybe his character carried him through.

His lady friend had called the restaurant and let them know.  They lit a candle for him.

He still thought he had game.  He told me once  "If I wasn't so old I would kiss you.".  I smiled.  Of course you would.  I'm sorry - you are older than my grandfather.  That's not what I said.  I just smiled.

Truth be told - if he could still make someone smile at 88 years old - he still had game.....

Please, make a memorial for me somewhere one day - don't say though "she thought she still had game".  Please write "She still had game".  I can only hope.


Beer Goggles

Or really, wine goggles.  Maybe martini goggles????  :-)

A friend was in town for business and decided to stay for one more night so we could see each other.  We went to Happy Hour downtown by the hotel she had been staying in.

Then we went to Cherry Creek.  My "hood".  My "stomping ground".  She is married.  Has kids.  Has a great career.  She got to see the "single life".  Or rather the "we are old now and this is where we go places in town".  :-)

It's a beautiful night and we are at my favorite restaurant.  There is something to be said for going to the same places.  The staff knows how to treat you.  They know you'll be back.  You also know how to treat them, because, well, you will be back and want to be treated well.

The manager stops by our table - and sits down.  He thanks me for sharing a cab home with someone whom shouldn't have been driving to avoid an argument.  (It's easy to convince someone they shouldn't drive, if someone else will go with them!)  My house was on the way home, I had the managers phone number, and it was easy.  Plus, I had cocktails anyway.  We shouldn't drive, even if we think we are okay.

Side note there.

After Mark (the manager) leaves, she says  "Is he gay?".  I say "No."  Are you sure?  Well, no, but he was married, he does have two sons, but I know that doesn't mean anything.  She says, "I think he's gay".

A cocktail later - and during dinner.  "You know, Mark is kinda cute".  She says.  I smile.  He is cute.  He dresses well and he's very fun. 

The next cocktail later.  "Where's Mark?  He hasn't stopped by our table in a while.  You know, I don't think he's gay".  Ok.  Sure thing.  I don't think he's gay either.  He's flirty, he's charming - but that's his job.  ;-)

He bought us a drink.  More friends stopped by.  We had a wonderful evening.  And Mark, was fun, and charming and doing his job.  I've known the man for years. He was off work and left.
 
We took a cab home.  We were probably okay to drive, but why take the chance?  We could hurt someone. 

AND THE FIRST THING I HEAR FROM THE GUEST ROOM THE NEXT MORNING:

"I think he's gay"......... ;-) 

We all know alcohol can lead to bad decisions.  It can also lead to very fun stories.......

Friday, March 16, 2012

I've bought the same house THREE times

Okay, I've actually only bought it twice.

The first time I bought the house:  It was 1998.  We went to look at it on Christmas Eve morning 1997.  I had a 9 day old baby.  We pulled up in front of the house.  We didn't even need to go in.  This was the house.

Don't get excited, maybe it won't be all it seems.  I walked in.  This was the house.

We closed Super Bowl Weekend January 1998.

When I moved out January 2002 - He could have the house.  I didn't want anything to do with it.  Just let me go.  Please.  I'm sorry.  I tried.  I tried for 10 years and 2 kids, please can I just go?

I'm sorry.

August 2002.  I bought the house back.  It was MY house.  I came back.  My kids, my house.  It's funny, I lived there for four years with my ex-husband and kids.  Although, when I think about the house.  I truly think of it as MY house.

I never did the "apartment with friends" - after college.  Yes, I lived in the sorority house in college.  Oh my, we were so young.......

I got married.  He's a great guy.  He's a great father.

What's really funny, I only lived in that house for a year and a half all by myself.  Although, that was during the "found years".  The years we reclaimed.  I think Carolyn was in town every other month - if not  more.

Then I moved to the "neighborhood house".  The great house, with great neighborhood kids, and well, not "the house in Cherry Creek"  No more cute neighbor for your best friend to kiss when she came to town.

This house has been more than I could have ever dreamed.

It's THAT house.  Yes, all the kids are here.  Comment from new neighbor 'how many kids do you have?  we haven't figured it out?"  Just two - we just have the neighborhood house.  :-)  I've wanted my whole life to have the neighborhood house.  Once again, those things you want, just go make them happen.  "That's really cool".  Yes, it is.

Now a time is drawing near.  Background here.  My "old" house.  Is a Denver bungalow.  It's charming and has the BEST front porch in the whole world.  AND the couple whom bought it - a delightful wonderful young couple - they were just getting married, and I heard a few years ago they had a baby.  I'm sure they now have two.

I remember those days.  The house got a little crowded.  1008 square feet 1 bathroom up, 1 bathroom down.

I moved to the "neighborhood house"  and I told them then:  By the time you have kids, you will want more room.  And let's make a deal.  You can buy my house and I will buy your house.  My old house.

My oldest goes to high school next year.  1.2 miles from the old house.  Yes, it's too small for us, but maybe one boy lives with their dad and the other with their mom - then they swap.  It's big enough for two of us full time  - and we are in Kona for the summer anyway.  It's closer to the high school.  Ten years ago it sounded like a good idea......

Maybe they are ready for the "neighborhood house".  Maybe it's time to go back to Cherry Creek.  It's seems really small.  It doesn't seem like something I would want to do.  Although, who can honestly say, "I've bought the same house, THREE times".  ?

I do have the PERFECT porch swing to hang on the porch. 


Ramblings from home

I went with my oldest son and his dad to register him for classes for high school tonight.  A very weird feeling.  How can it be?

I know, I have no idea. He's going to high school. A BIG high school.  He's been in a "bubble" his whole life.  My sons go to a GREAT school.  It's a K-8 Denver Public School.  It's not a charter school.  It's not a private school.

It IS the #1 school in Denver.  The parents are OVER involved.  Great staff.  Great teachers.  It's been our little world for the last 9 years.  And it's time to move on.  There are 50 kids per grade.  I call it my public/private school.

High school - it's definitely a public school.  I think there are 600 kids PER GRADE.  We are about to hit the real world.  And he's excited.  Of course, several of his really good friends are going there.  What he doesn't realize is that he will have a whole new group of friends by the end of high school.  It's a really good school.

The way Denver schools are set up - you can go to your neighborhood school or you can "choice" into the school you want.  Then it is strictly a "lottery" system.  Say, 400 kids from the neighborhood go to the school.  Then there are 200 slots left.  All the kids that "choiced" in and picked this school first are put into a lottery.  Lots of kids he knows didn't get in.  He's the charmed child.  He got in.  Of course he did.  We are talking about the kid whom won a contest at a gas station.

He's ready.  I sure hope mom is.

Monday, March 12, 2012

Hockey, Hockey, Hockey

I'm not a believer in club sports.  After school sports - I'm all for it.  Sports in general, yes.  Activities, yes.  Activities/Sports where you practice 3 times per week, plus at least one game, if not two every weekend, plus 3 tournaments. (tournaments = 4/5 games in one weekend around the state and one out of state).  Now multiply that by two. 

Two sons playing club hockey.  Yes, I support my sons and what they want to do.  Club hockey.  No.  On an average weekend we have at least three games.  (This is an average).  Try-outs start in August.  The season ended today.  My sons are good hockey players, not GREAT hockey players. They love the sport.  Their dad loves the sport.  Their dad is an incredible, wonderful father.  Therefore, the boys love playing club hockey.

I think we do too much for our kids today.  They (being the so called experts) say, the children today lack motivation.  And in part, I think it's true. 

My sons don't WANT for anything.  It's truly hard for them to think of things they want for Christmas and Birthday's. Unless of course, that something they want is completely outrageous. 

When you WANT something; REALLY, REALLY want something - you figure out how to make it happen.  Or wait, maybe that's me.  Some people give up and think it's out of reach.  Others, figure it out. 

I do tell my sons they can't have things.  I even say "we can't afford it".  It's the truth.  We can't afford everything they think they want, when they want it.

Years ago - they were 5 and 6, they wanted a trampoline.  I told them if they would save $200, I would pay the rest.  They saved for 9 months (a birthday each and Christmas) - pooled all their cash and we went and bought a trampoline.  We've been through 2 "beds" on the trampoline - we are now on to our third.  The trampoline is bounced upon on a daily basis.    They were invested in this. 

Yes, they have a Wii - no, it's not played that often.  The basketball net - yes, it was gift, and it's played daily also.

There is a balance between want and give.  If they WANT it, I usually have no trouble supporting helping them achieve their goals. 

In today's structured, over-instruction world, I'm a believer in GO PLAY.  Yes, coaching and lessons help make you good.  However, there will always be the voice in the back of my head that says "against all odds, the good ones rise to the top - you just have to want it."


Thursday, March 8, 2012

The places I've changed

Changing clothes.  We do this daily.  We shower.  We put on make-up.  Every day, we change.

Places I never imagined changing clothes:

Vail parking garage.  After skiing, when just up for the day, but before going home.  The first time, it seemed quite odd.  Second time, well, not so different at all - there are lots of people changing in the garage.  It's quite funny.  Here you are at a world class resort/ski mountain - changing clothes in a parking garage.  Or showering at the club locker room at the hotel, because they don't check id's.

Yes, granted, I did this when I was bit younger.  I also did this last year with 3 other mom friends before picking our sons up for the Train concert.  They didn't need to know we stayed to late skiing, and the free concert was starting.  We felt gross, they didn't care.

I have a new one.  The pier in Kona.  I actually shaved my legs at the shower on the Pier.  A personal best for even me.  The showers are really to rinse off.  The water is cold.

When leaving the house, I always took extra clothes (lesson learned last summer), the camera and shampoo and conditioner.  I have never considered my curly hair fortunate, but it does make life easy in humidity - as long as proper attire isn't required.  A little hair product and one is good to go. 

I washed my hair.  I conditioned my hair.   And Al, borrowed both.  Quite the site.  Only, we weren't the only ones showering at the Pier.

Then, you do go inside the bathrooms to change clothes.  Although, I'm not sure if anyone would have minded people changing clothes either.  Maybe the tourist.  Maybe not.

But we are talking about me here.  And I'm not talking about clothes.

A few years ago when I had done my marathon - I told client about the marathon.  Six months or so later, I get an e-mail saying he had signed up with the running group I went with to Greece and went to Ireland to run a marathon.  Seriously?

We change people too.  We change ourselves and those we meet along the way.  We never know when something we say will influence another (both positive and negative).

We need to change.  Some friends come and go - and always come back.  Others stay for a bit and then move on. Or we move on.  Others stay forever.  We are truly lucky when someone enters our life - even for a bit.

You can thank your blessings for what has been bestowed upon you.  You can be miserable because it's not the same as you want it. There is a reason.  We just don't always see it.

Changing isn't about the clothes.

You can change. You can get older.  You are going to do one, if you are lucky.  Why not do both?