We’d moved to a larger room in the back of The Dubliner and our group was gaining people like crazy. By this time, many in the group were inebriated. I was drinking my Coca-Cola (yeah, yeah, I’m drinking caffeine again–I’ll pay for it later) and enjoying the show.

It’s not my job to tell you everything that they did or said. It’s really not fair to them. Truly. They desperately need to be tattled on, but they all have their own blogs and if they can remember, more power to them. What I remember most keenly was our waiter. In an Irish pub, anyone with any kind of European accent sounds Irish. This is particularly true when everyone in the room is inebriated. What happens is that everything is much funnier than it really is.

Because of this situation, when it came to conversing with the waiter, I thought that it was hysterical that he wasn’t really Irish (look, he SOUNDED IRISH–if it looks like a Lucky Charm and walks like a Lucky Charm–yep, I’m kidding and yep, someone is gonna take that personally and yep, someone is gonna call me names). If you’d like to call me sauerkraut, go ahead.

Anyway, I made it my mission to discover the heritage of our waiter. As such, I refused to give him my order until he would disclose. What? I was in Washington. Disclosure is the name of the game. You can’t live there and not carry around your birth certificate, right?

Eventually, he gave it up to me and my friend Sarah that he was English and French. Sarah is French so this was an incredibly delightful conversation that ended with us holding our waiter up for ten minutes while we compared family histories and had a new best friend who was now required to serve all of our food “with love” because it was inevitable that we were somehow related (me being 1/4 English and Sarah being French).

And yes, I required him to say that everything had love in it.

This was much better than the experience we had at a bar later in the week where they wouldn’t allow us in because Caleb’s license had expired and they refused to believe he was over 21 even though he was supporting a full logger beard and it was clearly him on the license. And then when the guy who refused to let us in mouthed off to Caleb and Ben and made the situation ten times worse… Oh, you want to hear about that, too?

It was a long weekend. And I met a girl named Beer.

While there, I saw something that made Baby Jesus cry. And now I’m going to make you cry. This is my amused face. The 1980s was 20 years ago for a reason.

I blame you, Kanye West. Don’t you bring back long dead trends without good reason. And there is no good reasons for wannabe sunglasses. Especially not in nasty plain plastic colors. You should be ashamed of yourself. I want you to stick your nose in the corner and take a time-out. Bad Kanye. It’s the least of your transgressions, but TIME. OUT.

This Sunday, my loving wife took me to see my first live comedy show, which was Ralphie May at Zanies in Nashville. She has graciously allowed me to write a guest post here about the experience, which I must say easily exceeded my expectations.
 
Sunday was a miserable day, weather-wise, but when we were actually driving up Franklin Road to get to Zanies, the skies cleared and it appeared that the weather would clear up. We were advised to show up by 6:45 in order to get good seats for the 7:30 show, and we arrived more or less right on time.  The parking situation at Zanies was atrocious, however, and we had to park a couple blocks away (as we had been warned that parking at any of the nearby businesses would result in our car being promptly towed).  Nonetheless, we were still in the door at or near 6:45.  We found out that this was not nearly early enough, as we were seated at a couple of bar stools near the back of the first floor, and near the door.  Our seating was, however, literally the only complaint I had about Zanies as a venue.  Although my back got sore from not having anything to support it while we sat there for three hours, the sight lines were still good, the food was delicious and reasonably priced, and the service was shockingly prompt and attentive (especially given that our server appeared to be waiting on at least 9 or 10 tables).  The warm-up acts were some guy from the Bob & Tom show (apparently neither Bob nor Tom), and Ralphie May’s wife.  Both were good for a few chuckles, but neither had the talent to be a successful television comedian. 
 
Ralphie took the stage at around 7:50.  I was prepared, to some extent, for some recycled material, especially since I have been a fan of Ralphie’s since Last Comic Standing, and I was worried that I might have heard most of the jokes before, but I needn’t have worried.  I didn’t hear a single recylced joke from any of his 4 DVDs or from any of his Last Comic Standing material.  It was all new and fresh and quite a bit of it was obviously pulled from the events of the last few weeks and months.  Ralphie had clearly put a lot of effort into keeping his material fresh for an audience that had doubtless heard him before (Ralphie is a relatively frequent guest at Zanies).  During the middle of the show, the weather apparently turned inclement and we eventually briefly lost power.  Ralphie picked up without a beat and continued the show.  In fact, due to the weather, Ralphie extended his show an extra full hour, nearly doubling the length of his show, and did so without recycling anything I had ever heard before.  At the end, he stayed around and took free pictures and gave free autographs to all who had stayed.  I was truly impressed with his generosity with his time, especially given the fact that his wife delivered a baby less than 3 weeks ago and by his own admission, he is recently recovered from the flu and sleep deprivation. He furthermore displayed a remarkable knowledge of Nashville and surrounding localities, perhaps because he may have actually moved here (I think he said at the end that he and his wife had moved here, but I can’t be sure. It could just be that he visits frequently enough to have been briefed on these things).
 
Ralphie as a comedian is of course not for everyone.  His jokes are not appropriate fare for the faint of heart, nor the politically correct.  His show suffered somewhat from a needless and extended jag into pro-Obama politics.  I more or less expect this from a comedian of Ralphie’s variety, so the problem in this case was not the politics, it’s that the jokes were not especially funny.  Ralphie sounded more during these jokes like a talking head, less like a comedian attempting to entertain his audience.  Thankfully, given the overall length of the show, this portion more or less faded into the background of an otherwise hilarious experience, especially since he quickly redeemed himself with a bit about Chick Fil-A that was… well, look for it to come to a special on Comedy Central soon. I don’t want to ruin the surprise.  When he was finished, a grateful audience gave him a standing “O” and we waited in line for less than five minutes to meet Ralphie.  I got a copy of “Austin-Tatious” (the only one I didn’t already have) and Ralphie signed it (as pictured here), although he was clear that he would have signed a picture for free as well. We then headed back home, late but satisfied with our first comedy experience.  Whenever we get the chance, we’ll be seeing Ralphie again soon.

It’s rare that I talk about school-related stuff because the majority of you out there aren’t in school, or, if you are, you have your own problems. Translation: You don’t give a monkey’s Heineken about my problems. And that’s cool. I probably wouldn’t either.

What happened was that I was taking one, full summer course. It met one night a week from 5-9. That’s not a problem. I can handle it. Then, summer term II came around and added a second class. However, since it’s only ONE summer term, it means that the class must meet 2 nights a week. Are you still with me? The gist is that I am now in school from 5-9, 3 nights and week and the overall effect is that A.J. is gone those days because of the problems between my schedule and Leon’s. I’m finding it hard to focus.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still paying attention and I’m in class. When you get to the level I’m at in my education, you can’t avoid paying attention or you will fail. I just miss him. And it’s not healthy for him to not see me for 3 days straight in a week. He’s gone before I’m up in the morning and in bed before I get home. I hate it.

But it’s only a month. And until then, I’ll be ok. Remember, a blue shell isn’t permanent. It’s temporary. Every now and then I have them and so do you. I know this probably isn’t my most insightful or my best post, but I felt obliged to let you know what was going on and why things had been different lately. Bottom line: I’ve been blueshelled. Now it’s time to pull out the stops and get back on top.

I am choosing to focus on raw talent and the way that his music and lyrics connect with me, which is what I always do here. I’m an energy type person and the energy that I feel when I hear the music is something pervasive. I have found a particularly touching version of Man in the Mirror, which is one of the first songs that I can remember.

I know that you are saturated with this material. You are tired of hearing about Michael Jackson. You are looking for relief from the news and his pictures. I want to ask you to give Jay Brannan a chance because this is a truly beautiful cover of this song. While I was listening to it, my 8-year old son, A.J., came up to me and said, “Mama, that man has a beautiful voice.”

He sure does.

The music and how it makes you feel is what matters. Let everything else go because it’s done now. Please forgive me for adding to the noise. This is too beautiful NOT to share. I hope that you enjoy it the way I did. It’s not my favorite MJ song (Smooth Criminal, anyone?), but Jay nails this one. Please enjoy. And then let go, and be at peace and with happiness, and focus on the things that matter in your life. Thanks to each one of you for being a part of mine.

Whew. That paragraph was somewhat negative, but I wanted you to know exactly how non-biased a person I really am when it comes to Transformers and, if anything, I tend to be negatively biased towards them. However, I have a boy-child and am married to a man and that means that they are squealing, pee their pants happy about things like this and Star Trek and Star Wars and all kinds of things that make me roll my eyes, count to ten and then put myself in the bathroom for a 3 minute time out while I concoct ways of getting out of going to the theater.

For boys/men, the idea of a vehicle of any kind that turns into a ROBOT WITH GUNS THAT CAN KILL THINGS is about as cool as it’s going to get. It surpasses all fascination they have ever had or ever will have with us women. Unless we are scantily clad Megan Fox. Well done, director Michael Bay. You have now sealed the deal for them.

When Leon mentioned going to see the movie this weekend, I balked, but he sweetened the pot by saying that maybe Angie, her husband, and their son would like to go and then we could do dinner afterward. I really like Angie and her family quite a bit. We got to know them while her son played on A.J.’s baseball team and she’s a frequent commenter on this blog. Her husband is funny and kind and their son is one of the sweetest children, and fiercest ball players I’ve ever seen. I begrudgingly gave the ok.

I’m not a movie reviewer, so I don’t do a thumbs up or thumbs down. These are my observations about the movie, though. First off, my favorite character is this guy:
I love Bumblebee. Angie’s son does, too. Holla if you hear me!

Ok, now on to the real dizzle. Yes, I know I’m trying to hard. I also know I’m not funny.

For the YAYs:

Transformers 2 had a nice, strong plot. It kept me highly entertained, even though I’m the type of person that is generally happier in a romantic comedy flick. There was some funny adult humor that went right over our kids heads (ages 7 and 8 respectively). The graphics were simply amazing. Flawless. Even I, the skeptic, thought they were incredibly cool and found myself wanting a Bumblebee Transformer of my very own. I have no idea what I’d do with it, but it LOOKED COOL. The movie was easy to follow and understand even if you hadn’t seen the first Transformers movie.

Now for the NAYs:

There was serious adult language in this film. Not a little of it, either. A.J. was completely oblivious to the language only because A.J. cares nothing for plot or dialogue. The whole movie could be “blah blah blah” and as long as robots were shooting each other up, he’d be happy. Angie’s son, on the other hand, is a little more sensitive than A.J. and was paying attention to dialogue. When the adult language came out, he put his hand over his mouth and looked shocked. This is going to be an issues for kids of a certain age. If you don’t want your child to hear these words, and there are some shocking ones, please don’t take them to see the movie. It’s not worth it.

Another serious NAY is the length of the film. The previews alone lasted 30 minutes. By that time, we’d made a dent in the popcorn and I was wondering if I’d be able to make it through the movie without a bathroom break. At 2 hours and 24 minutes, the movie is a long one for kids to see in the first place. I was starting to wonder when it would be over. My last NAY is for the scantily clad Megan Fox. I’m not a huge fan of hers anyway, but did the film really need more eye candy? I mean, this IS a boy film anyway. Where was the girl candy? I’m just sayin’.

My What the Hays:

There was so much going on in the film that it was hard for me to tell which machine was on the good side and which machine was on the bad side. And was I rooting for the good side or the bad side? Towards the end, there is a lengthy action sequence. By lengthy, I’m talking upwards of 30 minutes. This is bad for those of us with small bladders, people with attention deficit disorder or those of us who are introverts that don’t like so much stimulation. If you decide to see the movie, you will figure out, slowly but surely, when you have hit that point. It is then permissible to go to the bathroom or refill the coke or popcorn that you finished during previews. If you decide to take your kid, you may want to take a quick break during this sequence just to give them a second wind to finish the movie. You’ll thank me for it.

Neutral thoughts: The PG-13 rating is dead on. Again, if you don’t want your child exposed to certain things, read up on movies before taking them. I think that the majority of concerns would probably come from Christians or those who are protecting their children from certain things such as violence, foul language or suggestive material. A good site to look at in regards to this movie is Christiananswers.net. It may answer your questions better than this review did. For children under 13, I would say proceed with caution.

But man, those robots in disguise are cool.

I’m one of those people that can succeed at lots of things, but I’m not the best at any one thing. I work hard and am generally the person that comes out with the “most improved” status on the team. Not the star player, but a sound player who does what she should when she should. As such, I loved music, but it wasn’t my life, which meant it wasn’t my career.

While music isn’t my thing, I admire those who could make it their own. So, when I stumbled upon this little gem, I thought it might be worth your time and mine, to listen to this project. There are infinite timing combinations. It’s beautiful. Enjoy your day of rest, or a day of work. Enjoy your day no matter where you may be. It’s the only one like it you will get.

The focus of the show was on a program called “Puppies behind Bars.” The program gives puppies to inmates in prison and has them train dogs to be service dogs for disabled, handicapped and ex-servicemen from the military who have needs. The show focused on how the dogs change both the lives of the prisoners and the lives of the servicemen for the better.

Now, I have no problem showing emotion, but I was doing everything could to hold it together for this one because if I let it start, it wasn’t going to stop. Dogs are special to me because I know what they can do to heal someone’s spirit. I’ve long considered using my dogs in therapy and it may yet happen. To watch these incarcerated men, some for violent crime, break down and weep because of these dogs, was heart-wrenching. To see someone with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder slowly healing with the help of a dog was humbling. We all want unconditional love, don’t we?

Not anymore. According to consumerist.com, we are thisclose to no longer having to deal with crowded interstates. Instead, we will no longer be able to see our sky because of crowded skystates. A flying car is coming! And it can be yours for $194,000 or, in this time of economic hardship, your really nice house.

The car of the future

The Orlando Sentinel’s Steven Cole Smith reported that Dietrich’s Terrafugia Transition flying car, which can cut people off on the street or in the air, converting between the two in 20 seconds at the touch of a wing-sprouting button, has had six test flights so far, including one March 5 in New York.

But you can’t have it. Yet, anyway. Dietrich plans to begin deliveries at the end of 2011. The price: $194,000. A refundable deposit of $10,000 will hold your place in line. He’d like to sell maybe 200 a year but can make money at half that volume.

It will take 20 hours of flight training to get behind the wheel, because the vehicle will be classified as a light sport aircraft by the Federal Aviation Administration. But after a lifetime of longing, what’s 20 more hours?

What will this mean for me? Well, I got over my fear of heights and I can give 20 hours to flying lessons, but I’m ok with sticking with my car because of all the rich people that will now be off the roads. Rich people can’t drive anyway, right? Kidding!

Her theme for last week was, apparently, to show where her multitude of memorable guests are now. One, in particular, stood out to me and I feel the need to call out some behavior that had me shaking my head. Two words: Tonya Harding.

Whew. The cajones on that mama. I remember the situation with her and Nancy Kerrigan, and if you don’t, I’m sure wikipedia would be glad to enlighten you.

She began her talk with Oprah by saying how honored she was to be there and moved on with how she was the first American woman to do the triple axel. She just wants to move on from all of the bad publicity she received.

Fair enough. I think everyone deserves a second chance.

Tonya also mentioned that she is now back on top because she’s with Oprah now. Is that all it takes? Just to be in the presence of Oprah? Because murderers have been in the presence of Oprah. Are they grander because of it? I’m sensing the narcissism here. What I observed was no contrition on the part of Tonya Harding for any part she played in any downfall she’s had. In everything she’s done and all that she is, she plays the victim card for all it’s worth.

She attributes the negativity of her childhood to abuse, which her mother denies. I don’t know what happened and I won’t pass judgment on it. I’m merely establishing the pattern. She attributes the assault of Nancy Kerrigan all to a husband who was verbally abusive of her and says that it was his will to do it because he thought he could “gain more business from it.” It didn’t make sense to Oprah and it doesn’t make sense to me. I’ve always thought she lied about her involvement in the matter (she said that she had knowledge AFTER the attack and didn’t say anything for fear that she would be harmed), but now I’m convinced of it. She played the victim at the Olympics in regards to faulty gear when it was her job as the athlete to make sure her gear was in working order. And she’s playing the victim now when she talks about how people only remember her for the bad things in her life.

Look, I don’t hold what happened to you as a child against you, but who held a gun to your head for the multiple reality shows you did that put you in the “bad girl” light? You can’t have it both ways, Tonya. You are either the bad girl or the girl done wrong, but you can’t make money from it and then deny it later and say you are being unfairly labeled.

When Oprah asked if Tonya would apologize now, she said no and claimed it was because she’d already done that in a face-to-face setting and that it was not well received. I agree that you cannot control how someone handles what you choose to do. You have the choice how you will act in response to that and Tonya responded in a typically classless way by calling Nancy Kerrigan out on it on Oprah. It went on and on and on and by the end I decided to just delete the episode because I know when enough is enough.

Who’s the victim here? Anyone that believes people that sell snake oil. I’m not buying.