Is a fair weather fan better than no fan at all?

     

(Doesn’t that title remind you of something Carrie would start her column off with on Sex and The City?  No? Just me?  Ok then….)

Although we live in Phillies country – we are Yankees fans all the way.  I mean…. we’re all the way once they get to the playoffs, or series, or bowl or whatever.  I married one of the few men in the world who is not a sports fanatic (he saves his obsessive behavior for music and technology).

When we had kids, he taught them all the important things:  Bruce Springsteen is a god, Elton John/Bernie Taupin are the best singer/song writer collaboration, the sound system in a car/house/yard/bar makes or breaks a good time, etc.

My girl was 12 before she knew who A-Rod was, and that was only because I had talked about his break-up with Cameron Diaz.  I was rooting for them.  Although I’m always rooting for Cameron, I have a soft spot for her.

Anyway – when my son was born, things started changing.  He loves all things baseball, basketball, football, he’s all over it. He wears only “sporty” clothes (no jeans or khakis, incase a freestyle game breaks out on the playground at recess).

So, to be fair-minded parents who don’t just hurl our own likes and dislikes on the kids – we became kinda-sorta fans of many different sports teams.  In the end, the only one that stuck were the Bronx Bombers.

Last summer, we took our kids to their (and my) first Yankee game.  It was super exciting.  The new stadium is beautiful – and the food!  Why didn’t anyone tell me about the food!!  Peanuts and Cracker Jack?  No way!  How about garlic fries with chipotle aioli …. how about double dark chocolate milk shakes with malted whipped cream…how about IPA’s from all over the East Coast?!!  Baseball rocks.

The game was good too.  Who played against them that night?  It was Baltimore, or Boston, or Birmingham I think.  It was a B name for sure.  Who won?  Hard to remember all those details.

Back to the initial question – is a fair weather fan better than no fan at all?  What if I told you we bought ridiculously expensive sporting attire to wear to the game?  Would that help our fandom?

An Opinion is worth 80 IQ Points – Alan Kay

Alan Kay is a visionary – a genius some would say.  You should google him.  He wasn’t talking about event planning when he wrote the quote – but  it works.  Although, I can relate things that Buddha and Oprah have said back to event planning too, just so you know.

To be a good planner, you have to put yourself out there.  You cannot go-with-the-flow.  You need to figure out what the choices are and then either know which direction is best for the situation – or take a gamble and go with your gut.

There is no such thing as a passive, indifferent planner.  Do you have to be neurotic and Type A? Nope – but it helps.  You know that JLo movie with that greasy Matthew McConnaheyhey?  That was a terrible movie, although if it’s on tv I’m compelled to watch it.  Anyway – the scenes with her running around like a looney with a headset?  Bogus.  Unless you are in a seriously stressful situation (there is no bride for the groom to wed, hurricanes, etc.) – calm yourself down.

Back to the quote….if you think events are the thing for you  – test yourself.  When you are with a group of people deciding what to order for dinner, what movie to see, what president to vote on – do you speak?  Are you compelled to let your thoughts out?  If the answer is no – congrats.  You are a polite, normal citizen of the world.  But if your answer is yes, and you’ve already researched the restaurant, read movie reviews and have no problem defending your choices – welcome to the insanity.

Kosher Hibachi…not so much

I’m a vegetarian. I’ve always been one. My parents are both veggies too. My sister ventured to the dark side during her teen years, but we got her back eventually. It’s really no big deal. I’m well fed – over nourished actually. I’m pretty easy going about the whole thing. My kids both eat meat and fish and fowl – I’ve already explained their Irish/Ukrainian background which demands consumption of many different types of sausage. I have no problem cooking for all different folks, save the Vegans who I think are aliens (really, no cheese or yogurt, ever? A life without dairy? Madness. ) I’m off track, I’ve digressed … or as one my good friends would say, “the cheese is falling off the cracker.” See why I love her?

It’s pretty easy to be veg these days, there are plenty of choices – I can even get a Big Mac without the Mac. I’m just sayin’ it’s no big deal. The only thing that still freaks me out is when animal and non-animal are served together on the same plate, or are handled by the same utensil, or worse, cooked in the same pan! Then I’m a little grossed out (in a non-judgmental way). When I first learned what the word Kosher meant – I was thrilled. All my needs wrapped up in a bow. Yes, I know it means so much more – and it’s not exactly what I’m talking about – but it’s close enough. Would I love my food to be cooked in an entirely separate kitchen, oh yeah. Will it happen – no. But when I say the word Kosher… it explains all my separate but equal needs.

So this weekend we went to see my husband’s cousin and his ridiculously gorgeous family. We met at a great hibachi place near their town. First I was distracted by the light and love that are these beauties….

Those lashes…that little nose and mouth. Come on.

My biological clock is literally winding itself up again as I hold her.

Have you ever??

Her very handsome, very funny older brother.

In this scene the hibachi madness had just started…

Below…. She’s thinking what I’m thinking,” Where’s the veggie hibachi grill?”

Where was I? Sorry. Now this was not my first hibachi experience. We go all the time. I knew when the gal came over to explain the menu that all foods would be living in sin together on the grill in front of us. I also knew that the dude cooking would be using one knife for it all (and telling bad jokes). So he went at it – cutting zucchini, cutting shrimp, cutting steak, cutting my desire to ever go to Japan…not really…ok …yes.

Look at all that inter-food group mingling going on.

I realize I’m not normal. I’m not doing this for religion or animal rights – I just missed the boat on eating any other way. I blame my mother.

But this post is not a complaint – it’s an explanation. No other food eating experience can ever illustrate my issues more than hibachi.

That said – what do I get at hibachi every time we go? SUSHI!

Ofcourse I’m sure the sushi guy uses the same knife too – but a girl’s gotta eat right?

Let the wild rumpus start! (anyone? anyone?)

    

 

This is my boy and his best bud.  When they aren’t wilding the neighborhood (more on that later) – they climb.

Trees, fences, big rocks, barriers to sewers – nothing can stop them.  They pack a snack, they make plans, and they go.

Sometimes they come back with a nice wild flower or funny story.  Most times they have be hunted down and brought to justice for being late for soccer or baseball or piano or life.

After raising a girl who likes to do “inside” things like her Mom, it was a shock to my system to get this little monkey.  But I’m catching on.  I yell.  A lot.

There are more than just these two hooligans in the gang – but I need to ease you into this life of crime.

Hotel Room Views aka My Travel Album

I’ve been an event planner for a long time.  For the majority of that time I’ve worked for large mothership corporations that have sent me traveling all over the country (and beyond).   Now that my kids are older, they always ask if I’ve seen the sites of whatever state (mental/physical, take your pick) I just got back from.

Kids:  “*Mommy, did you go to the Hollywood Sign?”

Me: “nope”

Kids: “Mommy, did you go to the Alamo? Ride a trolley?”

Me: “umm no and no”

So I started taking pictures of the parts of the city I do get to see – from my room

Crack-O-Dawn, Santa Monica, CA

(this is as close as I got to the beach)

Crack-O-Dawn, Chicago, IL

(this is as close as I got to Lake Michigan)

You get the point.

*PLEAE NOTE: My kids want you to know that they don’t call me Mommy anymore…but since it’s my blog…Mommy Mommy Mommy!!

Say Uncle!!

My mom is one of 5 – she’s the second oldest.  When I was little, I was basically an only child for 11 long, glorious years.  It was dreamy.   But I was a spoiled brat.  You need to know.

One of the people who had the biggest hand in turning me into this brat was my older uncle.  He’s always the life of the party.  I don’t ever remember him not laughing – or not trying to make other people laugh.  This picture would not be possible if I was standing next to anyone else.

He was (and is) so cool.  He ate dinner at 11pm every night (the height of coolness right?)  His house was full of noise.  It was loud and fun.  My house was always quiet and full of people reading.  I loved his house.

Here’s my favorite story of his awesomeness:  When I was 6 or maybe 7, we all went to India for a wedding (actually we went everywhere together.  There was never an outing with just 2 or 3 people.  It was always a caravan of 8-9 adults and me.  That’s how we rolled).  My grandparents still owned the apartment my mom grew up in.  They hadn’t updated any of the original features – think no AC and no tv.  Their neighbors, however, had completely gutted the place.  They had all the “Western” goodies.  Being the über brat that I was, I asked why the neighbors had a tv and we didn’t.  Although – full disclosure –  I didn’t ask…. it was  more like an annoying whine or a fitful tantrum.  My parents immediately started the “you have no idea how luck you are” lecture, wagging finger and all.

My uncle….no lecture.  Know what he did?  He went out and bought a tv.  Twice the size of the neighbor’s tv.  Who’s better than him? Nobody. This episode may also explain my massive tv addiction, but who cares!

This is one of my favorite pictures of us. Take your eyes off my smashing outfit and notice the war like conditions of the subway stop where this picture was taken.  What was happening in Queens!

Silly+Genius

My girl sent me this two years ago – I still crack up every time I see it.  Sigh.

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