It is so bizarre to see my personality replicated and squashed into a three-foot-high boy body. Dominic is so much like me. When I decide I want something or want to do something, there is no stopping me. Fine when we are talking life goals. Not so fine when we are talking projects around the house. I know I drive Eddie crazy. And now he has two focused folks on his back.
The Batmobile is not quite done, and Dominic is obsessed with badgering us about finishing it. It needs a little paint touch-up, the cupholders (seriously, but they were Eddie’s idea), and a bat icon on the front. I think I’m supposed to create that out of wood, but I’m not sure. I promised we would finish it today. I know he’ll hold me to it.
I think I like KISS because I was at an impressionable age when “Destroyer” came out. And they wrote a song titled “Beth.” Sure, Beth is a nag, but it is still cool to hear your name in a song.
So that reminded me of one of those Facebook quizzes. When I did it the first time, I used the B-52s.
Using only song titles from one artist, answer these questions.
1. Are you male or female: She
2. Describe yourself: Beth; Wouldn’t You Like To Know Me
3. How do you feel about yourself: Never Enough
4. Describe your ex boyfriend/girlfriend: Hot And Cold
5. Describe your current boy/girl situation: Baby Driver (ha!) or I Was Made For Loving You
6. Describe your current location: Rock Bottom (no, just kidding). I Finally Found My Way (better)
7. Describe where you want to be: New York Groove
8. Your best friend is: King Of The Night Time World and Strange Ways
9. Your favorite color is: Black Diamond
10. You know that: I Love It Loud and I Can’t Stop The Rain
11. What’s the weather like: Hotter Than Hell
12. If your life was a television show what would it be called?: Talk To Me
13. What is life to you: Any Way You Want It
14. What is the best advice you have to give: Don’t You Let Me Down
15. If you could change your name, what would you change it to: Strutter Deuce (that sounds like a poker champ’s name)
I don’t like unexpected things unless I can quickly rearrange my schedule. Call it planned spontaneity. But when Ed said his brother could get tickets to KISS at the Philips Arena in Atlanta and asked me if I wanted to go, well, it was an offer I couldn’t refuse. Say Yeah!
Danny is the manager for many bands including Buckcherry, the opening act for KISS. He could only get two tickets. Trish had seen KISS before, and Eddie didn’t really have an interest. And I am a proud member of the KISS Army, yet had never seen them in concert.
Ed was already in Atlanta and I didn’t want to cancel class, so I cashed in a Delta voucher for a one-way ticket for yesterday afternoon.
I’ll spare you the play-by-play, but we met many people just as excited as we were to see KISS.
Our seats were fantastic. Thanks, Danny! First elevated section, house left, Row F. No backstage passes, but last-minute beggars can’t be choosers.
Buckcherry was surprisingly excellent, like a Faith No More/Black Crowes blend. Guitarist=très hot.(Not so hot in the following photo, so you’ll have to trust me.) Singer=too methalicious for my taste.
I had heard of them, but hadn’t heard them, so I was pleasantly surprised. I even bought four of their songs on the way home.
At halftime, I surveyed the clientele. Ed was disappointed in the lack of slutty women. I was amazed that the plastic surgeon who fixed Eddie’s nose made the trip. (Not really, but he looked like him.) Check out the suede jacket and dad jeans. He was also rocking some ear plugs.
The dentist-looking fellow in front of us had us take his picture with his disposable (!) camera, and another guy tried to interlope* into our section without a ticket. And there was this guy. Someone should have told him that eyeglasses ruin the effect.
And then it was that magical moment. We tried to pay no attention to the men behind the newly draped KISS curtain, but the anticipation was killing us. “Deuce” kicked off the extravaganza and it was on. Photos fail to capture the majesty that is Gene Simmons and KISS.
For those playing at home, here are some videos to help you feel you were with us.
We left the Phillips Arena around midnight and I rolled up into bed around four. Not my usual Monday night, but totally worth the change of plans. Platforms and pyrotechnics. Who could ask for anything more?
So much to say, so little ability to concentrate. I want to provide details of the past six hours, but I just can’t process everything right now. The blood! The fire! The explosions! The heels! I’ll give a preview:
A little moment from “Seinfeld,” Episode No. 145, “The Little Jerry” (fast forward to 4:50, enjoy the exchange and the Spanish subtitles. Woohoo!)
If you don’t have time to watch, here is the transcription of the key exchange:
JERRY: You asked her out?
GEORGE: Well…not “out.” She’s in prison.
JERRY: How could you ask her out?
GEORGE: Why not?
JERRY: I remember when you wouldn’t date that girl who lived in Queens because you didn’t want to go over the bridge!
GEORGE: That was different!
JERRY: I’ll say.
GEORGE: Jerry, I like being with her. Plus, I know where she is all the time. I have relatively no competition. And you know how you live in fear of the pop-in?
JERRY (shudders): The pop-in.
GEORGE: Yeah, no pop-in, no “in the neighborhood,” no “I saw your light was on.” And the best part is, if things go really well…
JERRY: Conjugal visit?
GEORGE (giddy): Don’t jinx it!
People don’t appreciate the pop-in. Well, let me be clear. I don’t like the pop-in. It isn’t that I’m not social or that I don’t like spontaneity. It is just that I have a pretty tight schedule and unexpected events mean I have to retool that schedule. Without the time-management plan, I can’t get everything done.
My advice: If you are considering a pop-in visit, make sure the object of your attention likes them too. Otherwise it is just selfish.
I received the following depressing e-mail yesterday:
Hi Ruben and Beth,
Unfortunately, we only received seven applications for the Mexico 2009 off-campus programs.
I had hoped that a few more might come in this week, but no luck.
I have notified the applicants that the trip has been canceled for this year—hopefully we will be able to schedule it again in the future.
Blaine
There needs to be at least 12 students. What happened to all the “I’m going!” folks? I was really looking forward to conducting this off-campus program. On the bright side, I now have two extra weeks of freedom in December.
It’s been a crap-tastic week, literally and figuratively. There is a lot going on right now, and not a lot of it is good. Family health issues, mainly. Dissertation procrastination also.
Dominic just capped off the week with a shout from the bathroom: “Mama, will you wipe my butt?” Sigh. I’m going to remind him of this when I meet his first girlfriend. And much, much later, I’ll shout it myself in the nursing home. Ah, the joy of being very old or very young.
Here are five ways to tell if you have overstayed your welcome in someone’s home:
1. Your hosts start yawning, and talking about how much they have to do the next day.
2. Their eyes begin to glaze over.
3. They leave the room and the conversation, such as it is, to take a phone call. A long call.
4. They reappear in their pajamas.
5. They announce that they are going to bed.
My advice is to get the hint at No. 1. Some people don’t. A couple of visitors to our house have made it to No. 5. Repeatedly. And it isn’t like we go to bed at 10 p.m. when we have guests. I’d like to think we are just so interesting that we make people want to linger. But I suspect we attract a certain kind of stray: nice people who are maybe a little lonely. A few folks are welcome to stay for weeks. You know who you are.
I like this cartoon. I don't, of course, like the error.
I first heard about the store Forever 21 from a student in one of my classes a couple of weeks ago. That same week, a graduate student in another class was wearing a cute outfit and she said she got it at Forever 21. I was at the mall yesterday, so I went in.
Up until that point, I had never felt particularly old. True, the occasional “Diff’rent Strokes” joke did fall flat in class, but I could live with that. But surrounded by St. Vincent’s students and hoochie clothes, I knew I was way out of my element. I felt like Jimmy Stewart in “Vertigo.”
How I felt at Forever 21
My wrinkles and I left immediately, never to return.
Our seats were fantastic. Thanks, Danny! First elevated section, house left, Row F. No backstage passes, but last-minute beggars can’t be choosers.
For those playing at home, here are some videos to help you feel you were with us.
Observe and report 