Date Night

Hubby and I went to see Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers in concert the other night in Nashville. We'd been to see him before years ago, and they put on a really good show. I'd forgotten how much fun a good concert could be! The instant the lights go down the crowd jumps to their feet and everyone is screaming and yelling and whooping and hollering as the band takes their places on stage. Then it's like a two hour frenzy of favorite songs, one right after the other, with the smell of pot in the air and thousands of voices singing the words to every song at the top of their lungs. Then before you know it, the band is taking their final bow and sadly it's all over and the crowd rushes out.

It was the most fun I've had in a long time and I don't think we sat down for more than a minute the whole time. We danced and sang and clapped and screamed along with everyone else around us, lighters held high in tribute in the air. All the way home I kept thinking how much fun it was and why don't we do this more often?

It made me think back to all the concerts we've been to over the years. I remember my very first concert (if you can call the Oregon State Fair a concert venue) was Andy Gibb. My Mom took my sister and I and we sat on some bleachers in front of an outdoor stage and watched Andy in those tight red leather pants wiggle his butt and shake that gorgeous head of long blonde hair, imagining he was singing those sappy love songs directly to us. We giggled and gasped and sighed with puppy love. I think I was about 12 years old or so at the time.

I guess Loverboy was my first official honest-to-goodness, full band on stage concert. It was held in Salem at The Armory and the whole place was filled to the rafters. They had colored smoke shooting up out of the stage and laser lights shooting all through the crowd and the music was so loud I thought my ears would ring forever.

All through high school it was one concert after another. Triumph, Ozzy, Van Halen, Bon Jovi, Sammy Hagar, Judas Priest, Def Leppard, Billy Squire, Scorpions, Tom Petty, John Cougar, etc. It's a wonder we weren't deaf by the time we reached our 20's. And where did we find the money for all those tickets?

Then later in life we mellowed out to Tim McGraw, Kenny Chesney, Alan Jackson and Brad Paisley, but the scene was filled with just as much camaraderie and excitement, whether it was country or rock-n-roll.

There's something awesome about standing in a crowd of 30,000 strangers all swaying together to the music and singing each song word-for-word as one. It sends a thrill through you. I can see why some bands stay around as long as they do to ride this adrenaline rushed wave of fame even into their 60's. And thank goodness they do, so fans like us can keep coming to the shows, remembering back to good times past and making new memories along the way!

Chocolate Covered Memories

Today I channeled my dearly departed Grandma Happy and baked a sheet cake with homemade chocolate frosting. For as long as I can remember, I don't think there ever was a time that you'd visit Grandma's house without a fresh baked cake waiting there for you with melt-in-your-mouth, lick-the-bowl-clean homemade frosting! She was the best for homemade desserts.

As I ran the mixer and frosted the cake, I thought of her and how much I miss having her around. There have been times I've thought, "Oh, I'll just call Grandma!" but then I remember she's not there for me to call anymore. It's been years now since she's been gone, but once in awhile you just forget she's not there in her shag-carpeted living room, sitting on that brightly colored velour couch waiting for the phone to ring.

I miss her tiny little southern voice, her words of wisdom, the sweet cards and handwritten letters, the handmade gifts she always gave for Christmas and birthdays, the not-so-subtle way she always inquired about my attendance in church on Sundays. I can still see her all dressed up in her finest outfit with those shiny silver or gold lame' jeweled shoes, with her matching necklace and earrings and her hair done up perfect and prettily in place.

Or better yet, with one of her hundreds of ornately hand-sewn aprons on, serving up a loving helping of that fresh baked cake! I miss you Grandma!

Kids will be Kids!

I really don't have anything to compare it to, since we weren't blessed with actual children of our own, but I've come to the conclusion that Tubby is the chubby little "toddler" that God has given us and the things we experience with him seem very similar to those that I can imagine parents with a small child or baby would be experiencing.

For instance, I find that we can't leave the house without a package of baby wipes in my purse, a small towel that acts as a "bib" for his drool, a chew toy, which doubles as his "pacifier" when he gets cranky or sleepy, and a whole slew of other items you just HAVE to have on hand to keep him happy. And if he's not going with us, just like a child, you have to find a source of "doggie" day-care!

The house is a blur of activity from sun-up to sun-down and you're constantly tripping on toys and cleaning up after him 24/7. He demands your complete attention 99% of the time and he crawls all over you like a monkey when you're trying to sit and relax.

Like I assume a child his age has similar eating habits, you can be assured you'll be cleaning up a big mess when he's finished with his meal. I find kibbles of dog food in the strangest places, including the insides of my shoes! And heaven forbid if you leave anything that even remotely resembles a play-toy laying within reach, because it's going to get absconded with and chances are you won't be finding it when you really need it. Then one day you're searching the couch cushions for the hundredth time and there it is, wedged down between the pillows.

There are times for parental pride, when we take him for walks in town and everybody ooooh's and aaaah's about him as we pass by. They pat him on the head, rub under his chin, squish his cheeky jowls together and talk baby-talk to him, just like I've done to human babies I've seen while standing in line at the grocery store.

And when he's tuckered out after a long day and ready for bed, that's when he's an angel, crawling up into your lap to get his tummy and ears rubbed. Pretty soon his eyes get all droopy and his breathing turns into a soft, steady snore and he's out like a light. This parenthood thing is pretty cool.