A Black and Gold Christmas

My observations:

The Specialists are clearly where the heart of our vocal talent lies.

The tight ends look like they’re at a funeral. The guy in the middle actually looks like he might hit someone at any moment.

The defensive line, on the other hand, was so into it they broke a sweat. Eggnog, anyone?

Hines, smiley as ever. Troy, shy as ever. Ben, dweeby as ever.

Thanks guys. You made my day.

…Featuring

Like most of you, I’m sure, I became familiar with the music of Norah Jones in 2002.  Come Away With Me was everywhere then, and besides loving her haunting voice, I was interested when I learned that her father is Ravi Shankar.  I’m a music nerd like that.

But once my girls came along I found I had little time for ‘grown-up’ music, and although years before I would have sworn it wouldn’t be so, I found myself listening to (and -gasp!- actually enjoying) The Wiggles and The Jonas Brothers.

There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for these kids.

Except Justin Bieber.

I draw the line there.  We all have our breaking point and he is mine.  But if he gets a haircut and ties his shoes I’ll consider not hating him, which is really the best I can offer.

Yes, I do realize how old that makes me sound.  That is because I am old.

Moving on.

Norah Jones has a new CD out called …Featuring and it’s comprised of duets and collaborations she has done over the past decade. I was offered the chance to review the album before it was released on November 16th, and while I began listening right away, it’s taken me a week to formulate a solid opinion and put fingers to keyboard.

My overall?  Thumbs up.  I especially like Creepin’ In with Dolly Parton,  Loretta with Gillian Welch and David Rawlings, and Here We Go Again with Ray Charles.

I’m on the fence about others.  I can’t stand the Foo Fighters collaboration Virginia Moon – way too easy listening, even for an old fogey like me.  And Baby It’s Cold Outside (a song I love) with Willie Nelson (an artist I love) just doesn’t work, as much as I wanted it to.

Download this: Bull Rider with Sasha Dobson

Overall I think this is a very interesting album and I’m glad I have had the chance to listen to it.  It’s in my disc changer and I intend to leave it there for a while.  If you’re interested, you can buy a hard copy yourself for $10 at Amazon, or download for $8.

FTC prison-avoiding fine print – I was given a copy of this CD for review.  I didn’t pay a dime for it.  Zip, zilch, nada.  I also didn’t receive a dime for reviewing it.  Nil.  The opinions here are my own honest opinions, not purchased or swayed by free CDs.

I could possibly be swayed by large piles of cash, however, so if you’d like to send some my way I’m all ears.

Thank you to the One2One Network for providing the CD to facilitate this review.

Suck it up

The football thing?  Turns out I lied.

I had intended to talk about football.

James Harrison, in particular.

I’m kinda bent about the whole thing.

But then, I don’t know…I just got kinda sick of it all.  I’m over this conversation.

His crybaby ‘take my ball home and quit playing’ declaration might have fueled my apathy.  (Apathy can totally be fueled, by the way.  Totally.)

So I’ll just summarize.

He’s a big, bad scary man.  It’s his job.

Of course he wants to hurt people. Duh. Find me a linebacker that doesn’t want to hurt people.  Except perhaps those that play for the Bears, since clearly they’re lacking.

But I digress.

Hurting people is part of the game, folks.  There is a difference between hurting and injuring, and what a bunch of Nancys we are if we fail to comprehend the difference.  You put the hurt on someone to show them you are a big, bad, scary man not to be messed with.  What exactly would football be without physical intimidation?  It would be baseball.  And seeing as how baseball doesn’t work out too well in Pittsburgh, let’s not go there.

Harrison is being fined now because he ran his big fat stupid mouth.  I’m fine with what he said, don’t get me wrong, but his timing was lousy.  The public was up in arms crying for his head on a platter, and he didn’t do himself any favors.

The hit in question?

I don’t believe it was a dirty hit, because I don’t believe it was intentional.  I won’t go so far as to agree with Harrison, who later said that there was a three foot shift.  I’m not seeing three feet here.  But there is definite movement, and I think that made the difference.

Harrison: “I’ll tell you right now, if I’m running blind and I don’t see the guy coming at me, by NFL rules, if he was to go and shoot at my knee and blow my whole knee out, that is a legal hit. All day. If you see me running blind and I don’t see you, please hit me high and knock me silly. I’ll pay your fine for you. Just don’t hit me in my knee and end my career.”

Amen.  Those guys stood up and walked away seconds later.  You don’t walk away from a knee injury.

[cue the cacaphony of emails telling me that you don't walk away from brain injuries either.]  I get that.  Except these guys did walk away.  Yes, they were fortunate – it could have been much worse.  But accidents do happen and there is risk involved when you choose to make your living getting hit.  It’s part of the game.  Accept that or get a desk job.

And if nothing else, how about the other supposedly dirty hit from that game?  Harrison nailed Cribbs and Cribbs isn’t crying about it.  In fact, he came out in support of Harrsion.

Ok, I did manage to generate a little passion there.  But it’s still negated by the retirement talk.  Good grief, dude.  Grow up.  Crap happens.  Move on.

And put the hurt on someone Sunday.

It is, afterall, your job.

And to all the pansies freaking out over this – have you ever seen rugby?  With no
pads?  Now those are real men.

Come to think of it, maybe Harrison could start a new career if he decides to leave the NFL.  Something tells me the Silverback would be effective on the rugby field as well.

Eric and Football, my two great loves

~ I learned that Eric is a very sexy name.  Eric just sounds like a knight in shining armor on a white horse, right?  Like the kind of guy who can swoop in and save the day and make it look all effortless.  Eric is a name for a smart, masculine, studly dude.

~ Not coincidentally, Eric is also the name of the Hostmonster tech support guy that made the techie stuff on my blog work again.  He also didn’t tell me what a moron I am for being so completely baffled by something that was, as it turned out, insanely easy to fix.  You know, if you’re not a moron like me.

~ Hooray for working comments!

~ I may or may not have added Eric to my list.

~Okay I think this was actually a couple of weeks ago, but since I didn’t tell you about it yet, it counts as this week.  That’s how I roll.  I learned that my most common typo involves the letter o.  And therefore also usually i or p as well.  Something about those fingers just doesn’t work well, which, I believe, is also the reason I can’t seem to grasp the guitar playing.  My reach needs some work.

~If you are about to point out to me that this is the opposite hand, then shut up.  It made sense in my head for a minute and I’d like to keep it that way.

~ Beef Stew before and during stomach virus?  Pretty much looks the same.

~ In a family with more than 1 child, more than 1 throw-up bowl is necessary.  Trust me.

~ A sense of humor has helped me weather many childhood illnesses, both my own and those of my children.  I feel bad for people who can’t laugh freely.

~ Sprint totally has the best cell phone service.  Not that this is new this week, but it was reinforced this week.  We’ve used them for years and they rock.  I’ve never experienced more helpful customer service.  Yes, things do go wrong, but they always fix them and do so in a big, above and beyond kinda way.  I’ve yet to be let down.

~ I rearranged sofas in the house, bringing the one from the family room into the formal living room, and moving the hideously uncomfortable one from the formal living room into the family room.  The coffee table  moved as well, which really opened the room up.  It looks and flows better.  However it’s leather, which is also hideously uncomfortable to sleep on.  An unforeseen complication.  Drat.

Talking football now and I’m sure few of you care. Indulge me.

~ No one has faith in Charlie Batch like I do.  What’s up with that?

~ I found a Polamalu children’s book that Annie is so getting for Christmas.  She’ll be thrilled.  She adores him, and while I’d normally discourage my child from loving anyone in the public spotlight, I feel pretty confident that he won’t let me down.  Don’t know him?  You should.  Even if you don’t care about football <gasp!> Troy Polamalu is an incredible human being.

~ He’s also a really awesome football player.

~ I really, really love football.  This isn’t new information or anything, but I’m just so deliriously happy to be enjoying football season again that I felt the need to reiterate.  Football makes my heart happy.

Happy Tuesday y’all!

Why I hate the Black Eyed Peas (and you should too!)

I pick Annie up from school every day. When walking out of the building today, I heard the Black Eyed Peas blaring from one of the 2nd grade classrooms. And I cringed.

I was actually so irritated that I briefly considered stopping in the room to tell the teacher why I was bothered. But considering that we have a fabulous school that allows us to request teachers, and considering that this particular teacher came highly recommended to me, and considering that I haven’t formally met her yet, and considering that she is #2 on my request list, I refrained.  Something tells me that I wouldn’t make the best impression with that.

Hey lady!  The BEPs are scumbags and I’m shocked and appalled that you would have them anywhere near impressionable young children.  You should turn that off immediately and oh by the way I think my child might be in your class next year nice to meet you.

Not so much.

But then later I thought hey, maybe I really should have told her.  Because chances are, she doesn’t know why I loathe them so.  And chances are, you don’t either.

The song that really put the BEPs on the map is a little ditty called ‘Let’s Get it Started.’  Familiar?  I’m sure, since it was EveryWhere for quite a while.  Commercials for the NBA, Apple, various television programs, in multiple video games, and – oh yeah – on the airwaves.  About 5 years ago, ‘Let’s Get it Started’ had us surrounded.   Nominated for Record of the Year and Rap Song of the Year, and Grammy award winner of Best Rap Performance by a Duo or Group in 2005.  By all accounts, a huge commercial success.

But what most of you don’t know was that the song wasn’t actually released in 2005.  Not the first time, anyway.  The first time it came out was in 2003, on the album Elephunk.  And it had a different name.

“Let’s Get Retarded”

Seriously. 

The lyrics weren’t marketable, for obvious reasons.  So they changed them, and poof!  Commercial success.  But no one seems to know or care about what came before that. 

Except me.  I still care.  And I think you should, too.

The R-word is beyond insensitive.  It is beyond distasteful.  It’s cruel.  It’s demeaning.

It degrades and devalues a large group of the population, simply for their existence.

As my friend Darcie said, there are other words that were once used to belittle, based solely on the color of one’s skin.  And we are quick to notice and shun those who would use such offensive language.  So why is this word any different?

Don’t tell me I’m overly sensitive.  Don’t tell me it’s meant to describe a way of dancing.  Don’t tell me it doesn’t matter.

It matters.

I’m a Pittsburgh girl, and a die-hard Steelers fan.  You may have heard that we have a bit of a crap-storm swirling right now, in the form of Ben Roethlisberger.  He’s accused of assaulting several women (among other indecent behavior) and his jerseys are now worthless.  Why?  Because no one wants to appear supportive of such scum.

I was once a die-hard Michael Jordan fan, with an extensive collection of memorabilia.  All virtually worthless now, thanks to his less-than-impressive personal life.

Tiger Woods.  Need I say more?

Don’t tell me we don’t care about nasty behavior, because clearly, we do.  We care when it affects women or children or wives or blacks.  We just don’t seem to care when it affects the disabled.

But I care. 

My daughter is in a collaborative classroom because I requested it.  She spends her day with children struggling simply to speak, and she learns side by side with children that are still working on basic reading.  She does this because I care.  Because these children matter to me.  Because I believe that these children are her equals, and I want her to know that, too.  I am committed to collaborative education, and Lord willing we will continue to be a part of it.

And because of that, I am personally offended by the Black Eyed Peas.  Their song isn’t funny.  It isn’t cute.  And it isn’t excusable.

If they apologize, I may reconsider.  (Though hey, how are we faring on accepting Michael Richards’ apology? hmmm, not so good, huh?)  But then again, I’m not holding my breath.  It’s been due for 7 years, and there’s so sign of it yet.

So yeah, I guess I do wish I’d stopped in that classroom.  Maybe the teacher doesn’t know.  Certainly I hope that is the case.  But she should know, and so should you.

We make statements with our money.  Our dollar is often the most powerful way we can make our voices heard.  And I, for one, will not allow my dollar to say that I support lyrics like these. 

Please, don’t you support them either.

(If you don’t click the link, let me fill you in – they also replace ‘retarded’ with ‘dumb’, ‘cuckoo’, ‘[ignorant]‘, and ‘stupid’.  And they urge you to ‘bob your head like epilepsy’.  But of course ‘in this context there’s no disrespect.’  Sure.)

I’m a woman who has boycotted Rally’s for 14 years because of their oral-sex simulating Big Buford commercials, so yeah, I can totally skip your skanky music.

Black Eyed Peas, you suck.

Derby Day!

Or just May 1st, to those of you that don’t live in Kentucky.  I know it’s not that exciting to most of the world, but around these parts, it’s a pretty big deal.

Unfortunately, the weather today Sucks with a capital S.  We’re supposed to have torrential downpours all weekend, accumulating about 6 inches.  The weatherman said that it’s a ‘soak you to the underwear’ kind of rain. 

I’m sad about this, not because I personally give a crap, but because one of Annie’s teachers is going.  I loaned her an outfit and gave her a turn-around-and-look-at-that-fabulous-hat to wear, and she looked amazing in it.  It just won’t have quite the same wow factor in a monsoon.

As for the festivities, the girls have been warming up for the big event all week in school.  They made Derby hats, dyed silk jockey jerseys, made stick horses, and even had their own races.  Next week Annie’s class is visiting the Kentucky Derby Museum.

For this afternoon, Annie is mainly hoping for better luck with the horse draw.  (For the uneducated – throw the horses names in a bag, people pay to draw one, winner takes all.  Around our house each horse’s name costs a dime, and Pappap and Grama are the main consumers.)  Not only has Annie never won, she’s also picked a horse that died right there on the track.  Yup.  Ugly break, in come the vets, and next thing you know, they’re putting it down, right then and there.  She was horrified.

So my wishes for the day – at least some break in the rain, a fun day for Heather (the other one), a lucky draw for one of the girls, and no gruesome horse deaths for all. 

Raise a mint julep (or in my case, sweet tea) glass with me?

O shame, where is thy blush?

Unlike the rest of the country, I never jumped on the American Idol bandwagon.  It’s my personality – I eschew all things popular.  If everyone else is doing it, you’re generally safe to assume that I am not.  Two glaring exceptions are Disney (of course) and Glee (and I’m genuinely surprised that this offbeat show is so popular).

So American Idol – clearly not for me.

Also, I loathe ‘reality’ tv.

Yes, actually I can feel you cringe.  Sorry.

But last year, worlds collided when Disney World built an American Idol attraction.  I had the opportunity to tour the set and get the behind-the-scenes scoop on the whole attraction, and it was interesting enough to make me tune in to the 2009 Idol season.

Mostly unremarkable for me.

None of the artists really grabbed me, and the overall show was just moderately entertaining.  But dutifully, I DVR’d the new episodes last week, which I just finished watching.

Appalling.

And unlike the rest of the country, I’m not talking about Pants on the Ground or any number of other not-good singers who auditioned.  Largely I’m not even referring to Simon Cowell, who has been remarkably subdued in his criticism this season.  (A most welcome change, I might add)

No, I’m talking about Mary J. Blige.  To a lesser extent, Randy Jackson and Kara DioGuardi.  To the fullest and utmost, the viewing audience of this show.

Shame on all of you.

I really can’t believe I am about to say this, but I agree with Rosie O’Donnell wholeheartedly.  Almost two years ago she said “Is that what America thinks is entertainment?  To make fun of someone’s physical appearance and then when they leave the room laugh hysterically at them?  The whole thing, it’s terribly sad to me.”

To me too, Rosie.

In case you didn’t see it, meet Jesse.

Mary J. Blige, your stock dropped through the floor in my eyes.

Shame on you for laughing in this kid’s face.  Shame on you for being even more cold and heartless than Simon Cowell, whom everyone expects to have the compassion of a serial killer.  Kara tried to cover for you, to give you an excuse for your bad behavior.  It was the best she could manage and it was quick thinking on her part, but still a thinly veiled disguise.

And shame on all of you, too, that tune in every week to laugh at people like this.

What kind of people do that? 

I know that some people who go on this show are ‘asking’ for it.  They dress in crazy costumes, they behave bizarrely, they are very obviously trying to grab their 15 minutes of fame a la William Hung.  While I don’t condone mocking people, I don’t get overly undone about a chuckle at the expense of those who intentionally put themselves out there for a laugh.

Does Jesse seem like one of those people to you? 

He strikes me as an unsuspecting victim of a mean-spirited producer, condescending judges, and a cruel viewing audience, all getting their jollies out of belittling someone who did not ‘ask’ for it.  Jesse was manipulated and blindsided.  And shame on everyone who found that amusing.

This isn’t about hand-holding and sweetness.  I don’t expect the show to be all sunshine and roses.  Some of the auditioners do need to hear that they shouldn’t plan on a career in music, and sometimes the truth hurts.  But no one deserves to be belittled.  Laughing in someone’s face isn’t entertaining, it’s cruel.  I am raising 3 children and if one of them ever behaved that way, they would face an immediate and harsh reprimand.  I’d be willing to bet that most of you wouldn’t allow your children to make fun of a classmate in that manner either. 

So consider, don’t your actions speak louder than your words?  If you spend your evening curled up on the sofa laughing at people like Jesse, then you’re sending the message to your kids that making fun of someone is ok – cool, even. 

So yes, I agree with Rosie.  It makes me terribly sad as well.

We’re really a nation full of jerks sometimes.  And worse, too stupid to be ashamed of ourselves.

We did it – we had a date!

After just recently blogging about our lack of alone time, we were presented with such an opportunity last Saturday night. My parents invited all 3 girls to spend the night with them, so we had a free evening on our hands. I have to admit that I was more than a little tempted to spend it checking items off of my lengthy to-do list (taxes still undone, bathroom I want to paint, underground pet fence to finish…) But I refrained, and Chris and I actually had a very nice, indulgent, RARE do-nothing night together.

We started by going for a spray tan. Romantic right? I know. But we leave for Disney in 5 short days, and I’d like to not have glowing white legs when we arrive. I opted for the Versa Spa at Sun Tan City since it was half-price weekend, and I was quite pleased…though it’s a tad cold when it’s sprayed on. Took my breath away a bit. Since I was going to look all tan and beautiful tan, my husband decided he’d go for it as well.   I took advantage of his absence and bought myself 4 new bottles of overpriced but fabulous OPI nail polish.  At 20% off, I’d be crazy not to, right?

However, modest as he is, Chris remained, um – how shall I say this? - partially clothed while he was sprayed.  His exact words aren’t publishable, but they involved him expressing concern about the chemicals that might be in the spray, and what damage they might do to sensitive body parts.   He tells me this only after we leave, at which point I have a good laugh at his expense and point out that he can now consider the bottom half of his wardrobe ruined.  He didn’t believe me for several more hours.  Fool.

From there we were off to the movies, where we saw Taken.  It was a very intense movie, and I was on edge through the whole thing.  Perhaps having daughters myself made it more personal, but it definitely struck a nerve with me.  And it was rated PG-13, which was a refreshing change.  I love watching good, thrilling movies that aren’t filled with smut or foul language, and they are unfortunately hard to find. 

Side topic here:  How much does it cost to go to the movies where you live?  Chris paid so I didn’t look at the individual prices, but our movie theater offers free refills on large popcorn and soda.  We shared one of each, and our total with tickets was $21.  Not too bad, I think.  Definitely a lot cheaper than it was in Louisville.

Anyway, from there we went to Chili’s and enjoyed the Triple Dipper Dinner, many Appletinis, and college basketball.  Ok, so I didn’t really enjoy that last one.  But it was present, and the Appletinis took away some of its annoying qualities, so it wasn’t all bad.  Reality came crashing back when we had to stop at Wal-Mart to buy diapers on the way home, but it was actually a fun stop.  We’d completely forgotten what it was like to go to the store sans little people.  Much faster and much less whiny.  Love that.

And we returned home to play some Uno before turning in…and sleeping until 10am!  Unheard of!

All in all it was a really great night, and I’m so glad we were able to do it.  Such a small thing I know, especially to those of you who do this more than once every 2 years, but for us it was a really rare treat.  Big thanks to Mom and Dad for making it possible.  I know they wanted the kids to come over so they could enjoy time together, and I know that the girls certainly did, but Mommy and Daddy did too.  We missed each other. 

Monsters vs. Aliens – my early review

I could sum this up with one word: Don’t.

But you know me, I won’t let it rest there.  So, in continuing my recent ‘complaints about cartoons’ trend, let me elaborate for you.

Like millions of other families, we watched the preview during the Super Bowl with our 3-D glasses.  I wasn’t impressed, but I wasn’t outright horrified, either.  That was because they didn’t show enough. 

A couple of weeks ago I took myself  my daughters to see the Jonas Brothers 3-D Concert Experience movie, because I knew that I they would love it.  And we all did.  But the previews before the movie, not so much.  Whatever happened to tailoring the previews to the movie?  Sort of an ‘if you like this, you might also like these’ approach.  Either that practice has been abandoned, or whoever did that for this one isn’t very bright.  First we were treated to a preview of witchcraft (aka Harry Potter).  Seeing as how the number one reason I love the Jonas Brothers is because of their devout Christianity, the witchcraft was a slap in the face.  (I recognize that I am among a small minority of Christians who feel this way, but I do.  And that’s a whole other blog post, in which I would elaborate and then be harshly criticized.  Maybe someday I’ll do it anyway.  But I digress.) 

Moving on…the next preview was for Monsters vs. Aliens, and I can sum this up with another word too: Dreamworks.  That’s right folks, not Disney.  Dreamworks.  Their standards are clearly not the same.  A few of the lovely tidbits the trailer illuminated for us:

-A girl with short hair is referred to as a boy.  Someone points out the error, to which the monster responds, ‘That’s not a girl, look at his boobies.’  Awesome.  Mockery, sexuality, body image issues, vanity – all inn one package.  This joke is fun on so many levels.  woo-hoo!

-A half-fish man is discovered and referred to as ‘The Missing Link’.  Nothing like a little Darwin for the pre-school set. I adore hidden agendas in children’s movies.  Like Happy Feet or Wall-E.  That’s just great.  Then I don’t even need to teach my children to think for themselves, I can just plop them in front of a video and let the people in Hollywood teach them values.

-A exclamation is made along the lines of ‘What the Fffffuuuungle’ (not the real end of the word, but something just a tad off of The F-word.  Clever play for youngsters, right? Ha, ha, ha.  That’s just so funny.  The only thing funnier will be when children all over the country start saying it themselves.  Now that will be freaking hilarious.

I could go on, but I won’t.  I think this pretty well makes my point. 

I’m sure this movie will still make millions, which saddens me.  It also saddens me to read the long list of celebs who voiced the movie.  Lots of people I enjoy watching contributed to this piece of garbage.  It has a PG rating, which since it’s animated I’m sure most parents will completely ignore.  It bring to mind movies like Tropic Thunder.  Apparently ‘taste’ and ‘class’ and ‘propriety’ are out the window.

Just skip it.  Please.  Don’t help them make money off of peddling this to our kids.  They deserve better.

Musical Interlude

Not much to say today, but I thought I would share one of my new favorite songs. I’m sure you are laughing, wondering why a woman my age loves the Jonas Brothers like I do…chuckle on. I really do love them. I believe they are good kids, and I pray they can stay that way given the intense pressure they are under. I like to support people of upstanding character whenever possible.

So without further ado…