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The American Legion: HARDCORE Bingo Night

April 7, 2019 by Beth

Dear Bingo People:

I’m going to have to ask you to dial it back from 11. It’s bingo. It’s not “Trauma: Life in the ER.”

At least I did not think it akin to life or death when my friend Lisa noticed the ad for the event.

I’m at the point in my life where my motto is “absof—inlutely.” I say yes to many adventures.

Lisa says yes too. So that’s how we found ourselves at the American Legion on Tybee Island for Bingo Night. My other friend Amy and her husband Brian said yes too.

From left: Lisa, Amy and Brian prepare for the rollercoaster ride that is Bingo Night at the American Legion.

We allowed ourselves to be upsold to the party pack (whatever that was). A “dabber” of one’s own sold separately.

Meet my very own dabber. I chose red to represent the blood I planned to spill on the gaming floor. (Just kidding. They didn’t have blue, my favorite color.)

When the event began, all thought of a fun night went out the window. Bingo Lady was very clear that there would be NO TALKING. AT ALL.

Bingo Lady does not suffer fools.

Lisa knew that this would be problematic for the two of us. All we do is talk. Especially when the Legion sells plastic cups of Merlot for $4.

Lisa realizes we may be in trouble.

Besides the fact that we were not allowed to speak, the game itself was very stressful. The numbers came fast and furious. Luckily, the woman on my right liked to repeat every combination twice.

 

Notice the intensity Amy and Brian exhibit. Shhh … they are concentrating.

It almost paid off for both Amy and Lisa: They each were one or two squares away from the loud groans and golf claps that accompanied each shout of “Bingo!”

I was surprised at the amount of people who turned out for the event.

How did I fare? Let’s just say I got more satisfaction from the cheap Merlot.

Not even close to winning a cover-all.

So thanks for an interesting night. I’m glad I went, but I’m not sure I’ll be back. Y’all are too much for me.

Love anyway,
Beth

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New day, new Dominic: What is the meme-ing of this? @scarymommy

April 4, 2019 by Beth

Dear Parents of Teenage Boys:

I’ve been on the struggle bus with Dominic, who is 14 and all eat up with hormones. You know this from posts like these.

We usually cannot speak without a fight.

But this week things have been different.

We are at the beach for spring break — just the boys and me because Eddie had to work.

He has been helpful when he does emerge from the cocoon of his room. But he has barely left that room.

On Monday, my phone rings. I see it is him. CALLING FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE. I do not answer it. Because:

  1. I hate talking on the phone.
  2. He was 10 feet away.

I go to the room. I hear him yelling, “Pick up the phone!” I open the door.

Me: What do you want?
Him: Why didn’t you answer?
Me: Because you are 10 feet away, and it is insane for you to call me. What do you want?
Him: I think my molar is loose.
Me: (Rolls eyes. Walks out of the room.)

Then he sends me this text:

The next day, I go in the room to make sure he is alive. I open the door, see that he is and leave. Then I get this text:

(Note: If you don’t recognize the Matt Foley reference, I’m afraid we cannot continue to be friends.)

Then he starts communicating in memes, to which I finally respond with my own.


 

So I guess what I’m asking is, is this normal? Is this what puberty looks like among Gen Z? Do I need to seek help for him? For myself?

Please advise,
Beth

Posted in Parenting | Tagged , , , , | 6 Comments »

Personal space, hoochie shorts and music from the ’80s, ’90s and ’00s: Cherry Blossom Festival wrap up

March 31, 2019 by Beth

Are you there, Readers? It’s me, Beth.*

It’s been more than two weeks since my last post. I’m sorry! To make up for it, I have a really long post today.

Yesterday, the family and I went to the Brookhaven Cherry Blossom Festival. Blackburn Park is about a mile from our place so we walked.

The draw (besides the fact that I had to work a booth for my job for a bit)?

Live music: The Romantics, Spin Doctors and Smash Mouth.

For free!

Side benefit?

People watching. There were plenty of people.

So let’s get this party started.

Festival rules said no chairs (or coolers, which was a literal and figurative buzz kill). So we spread out blankets. As you do. But here’s the thing: The rules of personal space still apply.

Not for some people, apparently. Like this guy who parked himself practically on my lap.

There’s plenty of room. It’s a huge park. So why is he four inches away from me?

And here’s his friend:

My leg. His feet. He actually put his feet under my leg at one point. NO!

The ladies with them were no better. No awareness.

Same group of people, now all up on Eddie.

And then there was this odd girl with those shorts I hate.

There she is with her boyfriend, Hodor (as Eddie called him).

Doesn’t look like a problem here BUT she kept bending over. Constantly. And when I’m sitting on the ground two feet away, well …

Girl, please.

So while she and her ass were harassing us, I was harassing the kids. Gideon liked the music. Dominic likes that thug crap, so he was not interested.

And he certainly didn’t like me trying to kiss him in public.

Look at his face!

Now for the music …

I’ve seen The Romantics in concert three times. I had the hots for the drummer, Jimmy Marinos, but he is no longer with the group apparently.

See? Totally my type.

The rest? Well. The years have not been kind.

I’m not sharing video because they really didn’t sound so great. (It pains me to say that.)

The Spin Doctors made up for it.

Smash Mouth also put on a great show.

Here’s something you’ll know for sure. Sing along if you are inclined.

It was during the Smash Mouth set that my two loves of live music and people watching came together. Check out this girl. I LOVE her!

It’s weekends like these that make me happy we moved back to my hometown.

Anyway, dear readers, I promise to get my act together and publish more.

Love and kisses,
Beth

 

*Apologies to Judy Blume.

Posted in Parenting, Random | Tagged , , , , , , | 4 Comments »

Bloods, Crips and … Chicks? #chickengang

March 13, 2019 by Beth

Dear Trish the Chicken (RIP):

A former graduate student of mine (now friend) sent me a link to this article today, and I immediately thought of you. And missed you, of course.

You would have made a great gang leader. You had a strong personality and did not suffer fools. You were never too chicken (har har) to go anywhere. You also were very loyal to me alone, much to Eddie’s chagrin.

I feel sorry for the little fox in the story, but the idea of a chicken gang is hilarious.

Anyway, I hope you are having a ball tearing up the landscaping and pooping everywhere in the great coop in the sky.

Yours always,
Beth

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DM slide to the left #WisdomWednesday #NoHumpDay

March 6, 2019 by Beth

 

Dear Aggressive Dudes on Words With Friends:

I’ve mentioned this to you before, but can you please not try to chat with me? I’m just there to play the game not THAT GAME.

I even changed my profile picture to stop the madness.

It didn’t work.

Here’s one of your brethren with his moves:

 

I continued to ignore him, so this happened:

 

People may ask, “So why do you accept the game request from someone you don’t know?” The answer is that sometimes it is a friend of a friend, and that’s totally fine.

But now I’m going to take every opportunity to mess with people like you. Witness:

Anyway, word of warning: I’m here to play, literally and figuratively.

No love and no kisses,
Beth

Posted in Advice, Random | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments »

So sayeth Kalen, so shall it be: A night out at an Atlanta institution

February 28, 2019 by Beth

Dear Johnny’s Hideaway:

Until this weekend, I had heard of you, but never sampled your charms. I had no idea what I was missing.

This is a photo from an Atlanta Journal-Constitution write-up. Add 400 people to this photo, and you have a good picture of Saturday night.

Kalen, a recurring character here, made the recommendation.

There was a line to get in you. A line! I haven’t waited in a line to get into a club in … OK, a week, but still. This was the longest. Ever.

Once inside, it was clear why the bouncer had the strict “one in, one out” policy. The fire marshal must be on retainer. Sardines in a can have more fin room.

Also, I am intrigued by the demographics. The swath appeared to be 25 to 75. I’ve never seen grannies grinding grandpas on a dance floor before, but there they were in all their glory.

And what’s happening here?

She looks like she came straight from her son’s soccer game or a book club meeting.

Anyway, anyone who goes out with me knows my nurturing instinct kicks in hard at some point during the night.

A lady has a tag out? Let me help.

Looking sad? Let’s talk.

Separated from the herd? Join us.

Royce and Sarah call this phenomenon, “The doctor is in.”

This occasion was no different. My first stray was Tanya.

Tanya had clearly had too much of a good time. I brought her into our group, where she was able to safely live her best life. She left to go to the ladies room. We continued dancing.

By this time, I had picked up another stray: Mark. We had helped each other bulldoze a path to the bathrooms. He was alone, so he joined us.

We were all dancing and suddenly Tanya popped back into our group. We couldn’t believe it; we actually cheered. And Tanya thought this was a karaoke bar. Here she is with her invisible hot mic.

Finally, we decided it was time to go. Things were getting sloppy around us. And Thankgod our Lyft driver was close. Literally “Thankgod.” Look:

And if that’s not a funny story close, I don’t know what is.

So Johnny’s Hideaway, thank God for an entertaining night. In the words of that great thespian Arnold Schwarzenegger, “I’ll be back.”

Here’s to your drink-free dance floor. (Now get rid of the cigs.)
Beth

Posted in Random | Tagged , , , , , , | 4 Comments »

Plan a tour? Sure. Why not? That’s not odd at all.

February 21, 2019 by Beth

Jesse’s Divide plays Smith’s Olde Bar

Dear Close Family and Friends:

Have I mentioned how much I appreciate you? You put up with my — how shall I put this — “projects.”

You know my motto as a writer: Bad decisions make good stories.

Take, for example, one of my most notorious adventures: The now-defunct Redneck Games in Dublin, Georgia. My posts about that event still get plenty of hits.

And then there were the chickens. Trish was the best pet, though, and I was very sad when she met her untimely end.

So when I said I was trying to plan a Southeast tour for a U.K. band, Jesse’s Divide, that I had seen and loved, all of you did your thing: a shrug, an eye roll, a sigh — whatever fit your usual shtick. But because you love me, you came out to support these chaps at one of their shows. 

And every one of you said, “Beth! They’re really good.”

YES.

I KNOW.

Why else would I do something so crazy, so outside my comfort zone?

Don’t answer that.

Anyway, thanks to the JD guys and all of you for believing in me. I still can’t believe it really happened.

Here are Nick, Simon and Rob in my house playing Uno with my family and me. Surreal.

Now go listen to all their stuff on Spotify, iTunes, etc.

And just wait for my next adventure.

Your weird friend/relative,
Beth

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Pass a good time in New Orleans #nohurricanesnecessary

February 12, 2019 by Beth

How to have a great time in New Orleans around Mardi Gras without losing your money, mind or morals
By Beth, Bon Vivant

So you’re headed to The Big Easy, and you want to make sure your trip doesn’t end up going viral on social media for all the wrong reasons? I hear you. I’m here to help with a short list of DOs and DON’Ts:

DO:
• Go with a long-time friend who is very familiar with the area and has a hat you can borrow when you get cold.

Wendy, Beth and Wendy’s hat. And new bead necklaces. (More on those in a moment.)

• Fortify yourself with Char-Grilled oysters from Felix’s. (Don’t wait in the line for the inferior Acme across the street. And don’t wait in the Felix’s line on Iberville: Go around to the one on Bourbon.)

• Appreciate the wit of The Crescent City denizens.

• Take advantage of smaller parades when they pop up as you are walking down the street. People in the parade will force beads on you whether you want them or not.


• Blend in with the rest of the tourists at a packed dance place.

• Say “Oh HELL yes” when your long-time friend wants to go to the Chewbacchus parade, which features a multitude of Chewbaccas (Chewbacci?).

• Marvel at the coordination it took to get so many different groups on board — groups like the Leijorettes.

• Admire festive outfits.

• Make friends with law enforcement officials. You’ll want them feeling friendly toward you should you make any mistakes. (Not that I did. I was very well behaved. But Officer Cummings and I became chums anyway.)

• Sample season-specific cocktails.

 

DON’T:
• Sample too many season-specific cocktails. Or too many of any, really.

• Pay attention to certain calls for action. Everyone has a smartphone and social media account!

• Argue if anyone says the Saints got robbed (“Blow whistles, not games“).

Laissez les bons temps rouler, y’all!

Posted in Advice, Travel | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

An episode of “I Survived,” starring the oldest son

February 6, 2019 by Beth

Dear Friends Worried About My Sanity and My Son’s Life:

Thank you for your concern. I’m speaking to him again. Why? He said some magic words:

Can I have a hug?

And that was it.

(Don’t tell anyone that I have a secret soft side.)

In return for putting up with his bad behavior, though, I secured the rights to publish a ridiculous picture of him.

Before I show it to you, let me set the scene:

Eddie is picking up Gideon from track practice. It’s only Dominic and me at home. I guess he doesn’t realize I’m home because he calls me on the phone. (And you all know how I feel about talking on the phone.)

(The call is coming from INSIDE the house!)

Mama! Can you come help me? I’m stuck!

Just then, Eddie calls.

Can you help your son? He is stuck in the bed.

Wait … what?

So I go in his room and I see this:

No child was harmed in the taking of this photo.

It’s an antique bed. This child slid off the end of it and trapped himself. I took the picture then helped him escape.

(For those of you wondering why I stopped to take a photo, it’s like you don’t even know me! In our family, if someone does something stupid, we laugh and/or document it first, then ask questions.)

Also notice his acid-washed jeans. Those are in style again, people (as are fanny packs).

Sigh.

Anyway, he’s fine. And we’re fine — until the next time the hormones take control.

I’ll be sure to update you.

Yours truly,
Beth

 

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No sympathy for the Devil, aka a pubescent boy (aka my oldest son) @scarymommy

January 27, 2019 by Beth

“The Omen 6”: Now filming in my house, apparently

Dear Satan:

I’m sure you think it was very funny switching bodies with my 14-year-old son. Hee hee. Ha ha. You’ve had your fun. Now I’m ready to have Dominic back.

What’s this? It’s not you? He’s just a typical 14-year-old boy. There’s more where that came from, you say?

Oh no.

A Dominic selfie: “Feeling cute. Might delete later.”

I was certain he was inhabited by a demon Sunday (the Sabbath — oh the irony). He was so unusually awful that I told him I was done speaking to him for a while so I could preserve my sanity.

I didn’t say one word to him for five whole days. If he came into the room, I left. I’ve never done that before, but honestly, it gave me such peace.

At one point, Eddie and I had this conversation:

Him: When are you going to start talking to Dominic?

Me: I don’t know. It’s been kind of great.

Him: Maybe for you but you not talking to him means I have to, and he makes me want to kill him.

I felt like I had failed as a parent though. It was going to be my dirty little secret. But then I told another mom about it in confidence, and she said, “Yep. I’ve been there. You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do for your own sake. They suck at that age.”

Emboldened, I confessed to another friend.

She said, “I’ve totally done that. I’ve even packed a bag and left the house to stay in a hotel for the night.”

That’s some Big Mom Energy right there.

It’s nice to know I’m not alone.

Or is it?

Do you have a special treatment (i.e., tranquilizer or the like) for such creatures? Or do I need to take that up with another entity?

Let me know. Things are tough here, which you might love, but remember that the 14-year-old might even be too much for you to bear.

Yours truly from HOTlanta (tee hee*),
Beth

* No one in Atlanta uses this term for real. It’s cringey. And we all immediately know “you ain’t from ’round here.”

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