exploring

The news today of the barge hitting the tour boat on the Delaware River between Philadelphia and south Jersey combined with my reminiscing about the Riverton Independence Day celebrations reminded me of the exploring I used to along the river.

And makes me wonder how in heck I survived.

I lived on the top floor of a wonderful Victorian House just a few blocks from the Delaware River. The whole town is on the National Historic Register and there were very few rentals in the town. Somehow, I soon had half of the Houlihan's management staff moving to the town whenever something opened up.

A couple of us went in on a used fiberglass canoe, the thing was as heavy as could be. That wouldn't stop us from dragging it to the river to go exploring. We'd row across the river and walk though the abandoned factories.

Occasionally I'd go by myself. One day I spent hours walking through the fallen down buildings and climbing stairs and poking around where I'm sure I wasn't supposed to be.

I found the giant wooden tongs (pictured above) on that trip. I think they are for changing fuses and electrical stuff. The name Schweitzer and Conrad is on the metal label. It looks like the company is going strong, although they call themselves S&C now. There is also a patent number and guidelines as to what amperes and volts it can handle.

I shudder when I think of all of the not-so-smart stuff I used to do there. I thought nothing of rowing across the river, hanging on tightly to the sides of the canoe when the trash barges would go by, without telling anyone where I was going. I took a walk almost every night after work, be it in my town or in Philadelphia.

Middle of the night rollerblading with friends and a twelve-pack of beer, iced down in a pickle bucket were a regular occurrence. We're lucky we didn't crack our heads or get arrested.

On my days off, I'd go to NYC or down the shore or wander Philly by myself. Pre-cell phone, of course.

Those were the days before three jobs and obligations. I bet I could have been missing for a few days before anyone would notice. Of course, I was in my late 20s, early 30s then and as invincible as could be.

Man, I used to be a lot more fun.

lazy

 [too damn lazy to take a photograph]

Sometimes I think I’m the laziest person I around.

I know what you’re going to say. I have three paying jobs and write for three publications and am in charge of upkeep on two houses and all of the paperwork and keeping track of stuff that comes with all of those obligations. And parents.

But sometimes I just stop in my tracks.

Today is one of those days.

I mostly just sat on my bum and watched episodes of Nip/Tuck. I finally garnered enough energy to put on my swimsuit and go to the pool. First order of business – grilled cheese with ham and fries, tamped down with an ice-cream cone.

I did swim/walk in the lap lanes, chatting with friends, for over an hour.

Today was good for the soul, if not for housekeeping or deadlines.

back from the bahamas

I had a lovely time in the Bahamas. I loved doing absolutely nothing but eating, laughing, drinking and reading in the sun.

I was so lazy that I actually had to talk myself into taking a walk on the beach and sticking my toes in the water. Who can be bothered with such things when the pool is right there?

The hotel was great. Tom traded us rooms so we had a suite. Much better suited for four women. Our rooms had a great view of the ocean and three separate balconies. I meant to sleep on the balcony one night but there were no extra blankets. The overnight temperatures were in the mid-sixties. Which is warmer than my bedroom at home.   Our palace included two bedrooms, three beds, three televisions and three bathrooms. Not that we did much in the room besides sleep and shower.

Despite the on-air speculation we were all pretty damn boring although I was giving some lessons on flirting, I'm not sure that they took. I promise to keep practicing.

Gambling is legal in the Bahamas so of course I had to bet on every silly thing I could - who would score the first touchdown, would the winning teams final score be even or odd, what color underwear would Peyton Manning wear....of course, our Colts lost. And I was disappointed, but it's hard to be mad at New Orleans and Drew Brees is a Purdue graduate. Watching the game with the whole group was fun.

At half-time the crew took photos with all of the trip winners and the rest of us. I bought a point and shoot camera with some of my trip money so I could hand it to anyone and get a decent photo. Most photos of me taken with my fancy camera show me pointing at the lens mouthing, 'no, push that button.'

I learned that not everyone can 'point and shoot.'

Here is our group photo - the three of us with the comedians and the B and T crew. I'm the one holding the foam finger.

We stopped for lunch at Compass Point on the way to the airport. Here is a shot of the whole group - I'm in the back row, second from the right.

You can see more photos of the trip here. And on my facebook page here.

I got back to reality last night when Dad picked me up from the airport. Snow, snow and more snow.

I did have to laugh when I got in the truck. Remember Dad's homemade console in the new truck? He added on to it! The console now has a fancy addition.

The holes in the top were too awkward for him to reach his diet Pepsi in the new truck so he built a new holder and attached it to the front.

It's good to be home

ahhh....

I'm throughly relaxed. Seven days in the sunshine, hanging with the kiddos, reading, pedicures and going to bed early and waking up late will do that.

We went to the tree lighting and fireworks on Captiva beach Friday night. It was small town fun - it felt a little like July Fourth in Tekemah. We were joined by long-time Indiana friends, the Houston's. You might recognize Scott as The Piano Guy  from his public television series. The unexpected part of the evening was getting 'felt-up' by Santa! This photo was taken just after both of his hands were firmly on second base. You can see me pushing Santa's hand away with my right hand. Unfortunately, thats the closest I've come to having a date in years.

You can find more vacation photos here.

I left J.R. and Anna and the kids at the airport this morning and spent the day reading, downloading photos, watching Lifetime channel movies and swimming at my usual extra-day hotel spot. And I'm wearing the same pajamas I was in that post, if you're keeping score.

I know I've turned in to an interment blogger. Its a vicious circle - I don't blog for a week, then I start feeling guilty, then I feel like I need to write something spectacular and then I don't write. I also believe that if I don't have something nice to say, don't write it down - so that explains some of my silence. Nothing tragic. Work has turned in to a job, not as fun for me as it used to be. It's still an amazing organization and I believe with all of my heart that I belong there and I'm doing a good job. And I'm trying not to let work consume me.

So here's to next year - and having more of a romantic life than a frisky Santa.

new year expectations

Lets not call them resolutions - that sounds so harsh. How about this - expectations.

Financial stability.

I spend a boatload of money last year.

Some of it on pleasure - Ireland, Austin and concerts.

Some of it necessary - new bathroom floor, waterproofing the basement.

Some of it unexpected - property taxes, truck repairs.

A big chunk of it went on to a credit card. After The Incident people asked if the bad guys were able to use my credit card. Truth is, they couldn't have gotten very far. I'm committing to paying cash as much as possible. And saving up if I need to purchase something. I felt downright naked with out my camera. I picked up extra shifts at the Red Key, more writing gigs at NUVO and sold some clothes at the resale shop to buy a new camera. I'm the proud owner of a Canon Rebel XS. Not that I have any idea of how to use it. I'm back to taking accidental vs. deliberate photos of my feet.

Continuing to shop locally.

I've been shopping locally even before it was cool. I know that money spent in my community stays in my community and employs my friends and neighbors. I bought the camera here. Not only did I get to hold the camera and make a hands-on decision, but they threw in another lens. And I know they're available for help. I ran in the other day with the camera to ask a question and got an immediate answer.

Get my junk under control.

I did lots of work last year. Cleaned out the basement and the storage space. I've been going through clothes and taking them to the consignment place. Who needs a dozen sparkly skirts? I've been giving away furniture and other household things. I'm coming to grips with the fact that I live in a 750 square foot living space. The trip to Ireland helped me put things in to perspective. I don't need a separate place to write. I sit on the sofa most of the time anyway. I was able to ditch the desk and a filing cabinet. I still have lots to do -- get the CDs under control and figure out a better plan for the stack of books on the floor (notice I didn't say I'd get rid of the books). I've been pleased with my progress so far. I'll never be a minimalist, but it is nice to be able to move with out the fear of knocking stuff over.

Maintain the weight loss.

I don't measure or weigh my portions, from years in the foodservice industry I have a pretty good eye for weights and measures, but I do record absolutely everything I eat or drink. Some times it is painful to record. Last week's bat capture and release incident at Tammy's led to a stop at the Red Key on the way home. And to this on-line entry: Two whiskeys and two bags of Cheez-its. I've learned that I made really bad decisions when I drink -- potato chips and fast food drive-thru visits.

I look forward to walking and riding my bike again.

Leaving work earlier.

I was in the horrible habit of working way too late. My work day is so crazy and full of interruptions that I'd gotten in the habit of staying a few extra hours a night to catch up on paperwork and phone calls. After The Incident I started leaving work on time -- and it was revolutionary! I have time to work in the house, read, visit friends, eat soup at the Newsstand and go out to dinner. And I'm more productive during the work day (and I've learned to shut my office door if I need to).

Not scheduling my day so tightly.

I now have downtime and can be spontaneous. Time to help my friend, Liz with her bookstore move - which has been great fun. Time to go to MCL for dinner, time to sit on my ass and read. Time to recycle and keep the house clean. Time to just be me.

Social life.

And when I say social life I mean dating. I've put up a lot of barriers to dating in the last couple of years. I was using my weight as an excuse, I was still too emotionally tied to AVS and plain old just not ready. So world, here I am....it is a new year.

linda's birthday (holiday party #8)

My friend Linda turned, um, lets say....a year older today. I was thrilled to be invited to a small party in her honor. It was one of those wonderful parties that I always assume that everyone is attending or hosting on Saturday nights when Cinderella Nora is working (even though the reality is that most folks are dozing off to a Seinfeld rerun on the sofa in their bathrobe). It was fun to get all fancied up and go to a dinner party.

Tim's home is beautiful. I try not to have house envy, but it's fun to dream. Check out this stove! The stove area is the size of my whole kitchen. Tim's art collection is fabulous and his Christmas tree is amazing.

Dinner was delicious. Wonderful soup followed by leg of lamb and roasted vegetables. We all toasted Linda. I've known Linda for half of my life now. When we first met, I knew what I'd know her forever. I never dreamed that I'd be working in her wildly successful clothing store twenty-five years later. She's a great friend!

Happy birthday Linda.

Cheers!

weekend

I had two days off - in a row. How fancy is that?

It was a fun weekend. The Tonic Gallery opened on Friday. Hundreds of people visited the show and my friend Scott played beautiful guitar music.


The art will be up for a silent auction November 21. Only one piece sold at the special $500 "buy it now" price - the bench that Dad made!

Saturday night was the Christamore House Guild Gala. I love the Christamore House and the Guild does wonderful work. I'm a bit of a Guild anomaly. I'm the only single woman out of 75 active members. And I'm guessing that I'm the only one that had to get her waitressing shift covered!

[I just looked at this photo a little closer - to make sure there was nothing embarrassing in the shot, and noticed my demonic cat peering through the window!]

I had fun and my friend Kipp was a champ. Only about a dozen people asked if he was my husband. My favorite moment: The social reporter of the Indianapolis Star looked at us and said: Nora, you're not a Guild person - at all. Kipp, what are you doing here? I guess I should be flattered that she knows my name...

Today was a real treat. I slept in- I do feel bad about missing church. I didn't drive at all. I walked to the newsstand for soup and puttered around the house.

Is this how people spend their weekends?

model citizen

I was in a fashion show tonight (Kristi and Liz were not, but they should have been). Yep, that's what I look like all fancied up. It was a blast.

All of my worlds collided in a very good-way at the Night of Fortune…Fun, Fashion and Finds for the Home.

It was hosted by Marigold (work there), The Rivera Club (enthusiastic member) and Style Salon (new fan). And – the icing on the cake (ohh, I’m also a big fan of cake - the band and the pastry) – and benefitted Second Helpings (work there too).

I was sure I’d trip or step on the edge of my skirt or something but it turned out okay. The women from Style made me hair all smooth and flat and did something not Nora-like with my makeup.

I got to pick out two Marigold outfits to wear. For the third trip down the runway we all were sporting G.Thrapp Jewelers goodies. Carol Golden (what a great name for a jewelry store person!) put the necklace, earrings and bracelet on me and I ran up to the stage with out seeing what I was wearing. When I heard the description of the necklace and earrings I stopped in my tracks and looked down. I was wearing more diamonds than I ever have. Wheeee!

The evening drew a standing room only crowd – over 225 people, collected 400 pounds of rice and a healthy monetary donation to Second Helpings. Several Broad Ripple merchants showed off their lovely goods and there was a wine tasting. Thanks to all of my friends that were there to support me (I even got a hoot and a holler or two) and special thanks to Marigold, Rivi, and Style for making me feel so glamorous.

shhhh...don't tell anyone

No one is more surprised by the fact that I have a byline than me.

It all happened accidentally. The editor/publisher/chief paperboy of the Broad Ripple Gazette asked if he could write about me - it was shortly after the coffeehouse closed. I told him I'd rather write and....viola! It was that easy. I've been on page 6 ever since.

I love writing the Gazette column, even though it is a volunteer project and spend at least six hours a week writing, researching and going to shows. And I attend most shows on my own dime. But I get total freedom on what I write - I get to infuse a good dose of my personality and cheerfulness in the piece. I'm not given a minimum or maximum word count or told what I can and cannot cover. I write with the "if you can't say something nice talk about the weather" credo.

The column has morphed (and hopefully matured) in the last three years. I've had good advice along the way. One thing that I took to heart was a comment that I was writing too much about how I was older than everyone else and attending the shows alone. I've toned that down, an occasional "I'm old enough be their mother" comment slips out and I do want people to know that it is okay to go to event by themselves. But I've dropped the whole woe-is-me thing. I save that for this blog :).

I've had two writers from the Indianapolis Star tell me recently how much they like my column. One said it's the "most honest writing in town." I'm not sure about all of that, but I'm grateful for the opportunity. I post all of the Gazette columns here.

That lead to me being in the panel of the Top 10 Live list in this paper each week. I'm one of a handful of people that votes. It is published in Indy.com, a division of the Indianapolis Star each week.

I waited on the editor-in-chief of NUVO at the Red Key one night. He made an off-handed comment, "send me something some time." I was totally innocent in the ways of submissions and such. I interviewed Susan Cowsill, had my dear brother-in-law Ron edit it. Ron not only corrected the grammar, but pointed out that I hadn't mentioned what her music was like. I Whoops - thanks Ron. I sent the completed unsolicited article in. NUVO was kind enough to find room in the next issue and actually pay me for it. I was so excited that I hung the check on my bulletin board) and forgot to cash it for months)!

Everyone loves the Gazette, but the other two papers might have a bit of a rivalry. I try to fly under the radar with them.

I'm not quite sure how it all came together, but I know I get geeked-out when I walk by the rack at the Northside News Cafe that has all three papers available. I have to stop myself from jumping up and down and grabbing innocent bystanders and making them look at my name in all three.

You should have seen me when I drove by paper boxes with my cover story. I'm surprised I didn't cause any accidents.

cinderella sunday

Besides my dear sweet mother and several aunts and my grandmothers there are only two women that I've said "I want to be her when I grow up." One is Doris, the other is Joan.

I met Joan at the coffeehouse. She came almost every afternoon with her own mug and stuff to read. She was one of the main reasons we brewed a pot of decaffeinated flavored coffee each day. She is very stylish- and not in the way that most 80-something women are. She wears cool glasses and I love her silver jewelry. 

I always invite her to my annual Saint Valentine's Day party and we've talked about getting together for brunch for years. Joan finally rounded up Novella, Marcella and I for brunch today. 

Her home is beautiful- on the property of a former Catholic all-girls high school that I attended my freshman year (the school closed, nothing to do with me- swear). Her house is full of wonderful art work, books, photographs and memorabilia. 

Joan is up on current events and has a real-life experience and history to back up her opinions.

 She and her husband ran a Kentucky Fried Chicken for years - she's familiar with hard work and long hours. Even though she and her husband have been separated for decades she visits him everyday in the assisted living facility for Alzheimer's patients. Their only child, a son was killed in a car accident years ago. 

She prepared an amazing brunch- sausage frittada, spinach and stuffed tomatoes. And two desserts- pumpkin pie and cranberry puddingy something - both with freshly whipped cream. I could have stayed there talking all day. And Novella and Marcella stayed until the afternoon. 

You guessed it- Cinderella Nora had to go to work at Marigold. 

I know that people don't have amazing brunches with wonderful people in beautiful settings every Sunday, and I hated to race out of this one. 

I've been feeling super bogged down lately. My poor house is a mess, all I seem to do is race in for a few minutes, drop a bunch of junk on the floor, and race out. Or like last night (or rather this morning)- get home from work at 3:00, shower, dry my hair and sleep for four and a half hours and do it all over again. 

I'm declaring 2009 the Year of Nora Slowing Down on Volunteer Stuff. I know that sounds a little selfish, but its someone else's turn. 

The hard part will be saying no. 

road trip

We (cousin Jim, his lovely wife Karen, Dad and I) meandered home from southern Indiana. We stopped for Mass at the other Catholic Church in Jasper, Saint Joseph's. The church is beautiful. Marble, mosaics, stained glass and giant poplar columns. The Germans really knew how to build churches. 

From Jasper we wound down the road to French Lick. We stopped at the French Lick Springs Hotel is beautiful. The renovated hotel is connected to a casino. I turned my $20 dollars in to $25 on a video poker game. I then turned that in to $15 on a slot machine. 

I was anxious to check out West Baden Springs Hotel. Click here for some history. The photo above is taken from one end of the lobby (a classic 'long arm' photograph- stretching my arm out as long as I can and snapping the picture). The 200 foot in diameter dome was the largest in the world for sixty years and called The Eighth Wonder of the World for decades. The hotel fell in disrepair, was used as a seminary, community college and Larry Bird basketball camp before totally closing in the mid 1980s. The Historic Landmarks Foundation of Indiana, with the help of community financial support bought the property. The renovation has spent decades, but they are doing it right - it is amazing. 

Karen and I got a cocktail at the lobby bar and settled in the big chairs under the middle of the dome to get a taste of how the other half lives.  I can't wait to go back and visit. 

I had a nice nap on the way home. Thanks for driving Jim! 

The wedding and the take-our-time trip home felt like a little vacation. It was wonderful. 

hello....anyone still out there?

I don't blame you if you're gone, really. I could type pages about what I've been up to and such, but I don't have the energy to write it and it wouldn't be that interesting to read. 

Overall life is good, if not still out of whack. 

The breaking news: I'm in Austin for the Austin City Limits Festival. When I found out that I had a media pass I bragged to exactly one person and you can guess what happened...no media pass. The music editor had committed the pass to two people. In the end it all got straitened out, ACFL took pity on the situation and issued me one also. 

Ironically, Aaron, who lives in Austin, is not in town. The selfish ba*tard is working in a kitchen that feeds hurricane relief workers. Everyone has an opinion on whether Aaron not being is good or bad. It does feel weird to be here and not see him. 

My sweet cousin Sheila and her family are letting me stay at their place. Which is beautiful and amazing. I think the bedroom/bathroom/dressing room I'm staying in is bigger than my house. And there is a pool in the backyard. 

Uncle Bruce fixed dinner for us. Grilled steaks (we're in Texas, ya know), baked potatoes and salad. I'm suspending Weight Watchers (lost 15 pounds so far!) for this trip. 

Off to bed. A very nice bed, I might add....

Oh, I'll be blogging about the festival for NUVO. You can read the posts here.

you never know how the day will end, pt. 2

Nora and Susan Cowsill at the Red Key 

To see a young groovy Susan on the Johnny Cash show, click here. 

To see an even groovier Susan click here. 

Wednesday, July 2, 2002

twenty-third best day of my life.

Actually, I'm not sure where yesterday ranked, but it was pretty darn good.

Started the morning off with a visit to Robert Egger and D.C. Central Kitchen. Second Helpings is based on D.C. Central Kitchen, so I loved getting to poke around and see how they do things. I got some great ideas. 

I also got to see Robert Egger is his element. I love his office, it looks an awful lot like mine - except his is tidy. You can read my previous posts on Mr. Egger here and here and see our feet here. I'm such a big fan of his that I get all stammery and blushy around him. 

I have a whole bookcase full of Harry Truman books and Truman paper dolls and other goofy stuff. It was fun to see old 'Give 'um Hell Harry' above the Iggy Pop poster. 

On the flight back to Indianapolis we circled around the city. This photograph shows our old football stadium (RCA Dome), the new almost-finished-one (Lucas Old Stadium) to the right and Victory Field. The baseball stadium is in the bottom, center of the photograph. Since I could see that the lit score board from the sky, it was a sure sign that I should go to the afternoon game. So I did. I had an idea that Dad would be there and he was. I bought a big ole tub of popcorn and plopped down next to him. Dad's crowd yelled Nora and then three guys behind me also yelled Nora. 

I was so excited! One of my favorite musicians, Steve Poltz  (from San Diego) was sitting behind us! I'd missed Steve's show the night before (thanks for the during-the-show text updates Heck of a Gal and B.I.G) and I never miss his shows. Steve is quirky and fun and I'm always in a better mood at the end of the gig- which I cannot say about all of the concerts I cover. He had a long career with his band The Rugburns, but is best known for co-writing the song You Were Meant for Me, with then-girlfriend Jewel. The song holds the record for the longest chart run. 

For once, I got the chance to entertain Steve and his tour manager. I took them up to the Public Announcer's booth and we got to see the view from the press box. We watched the last inning sitting right behind home plate. 

And, as if that wasn't a big enough day...I went to the Ryan Bingham late-night show. The talented twang-rocker is only 26. The whole band was great and I made myself stay until the end, just to prove that I could last as long as the kids - of course I wasn't drinking shots and PBR's and smoking....and I bet they still felt way better than I did this morning!

And there you have it: A day in the life of Nora. 

cover girl

Lookie! My first cover story.

I didn't want to jinx it, so I didn't talk about it. It has been in the works for months.

I can't tell you how excited that I am and I'm sure I'll bore you with lots of photographs of paper boxes and other goofiness.

The story is about house concerts. Which is just that, a concert in a house. Read all about here.

Read the companion piece: how to host a house concert here.

It's a whopping 3500 words, which is a ton for me to write in third person. Most of the stuff that I write for NUVO runs in the 300-ish range. My Gazette column is often 1500 to 2000 words written in first person, which I find much easier to crank out.

My dear brother-in-law edited the piece, thanks Ron!

And Jolie, thanks for calling after you saw a copy - that made it real.

Wheeee!

[And just 'cause I'm showing off, I also wrote this piece for the same issue: Ryan Bingham. He's one talented young guy. Between his appearance on Conan O'Brien last week and my exciting schedule of meetings and spreadsheets we couldn't coordinate a phone interview.]

the greatest spectacle in racing

I'm watching the awards dinner for the Indy 500 as I write this post. My friend's band is playing at the ceremony and opened with one of my favorite songs. I need to offer to haul guitars or something in for Tim one year so I can watch from the hallway. I used to say that I enjoy the watching the awards dinner more than the race, but not after yesterday. 

Growing up just 25 miles from the track (when you say "the track" around here, everyone knows what you're talking about) the 500 was always part of May. When we were young we'd eat lunch in the backyard with the radio on and I loved filling out the grid printed in the Indianapolis Star. 

I almost went to a race (again, everyone knows what you mean by "the race") when I was in college. My boyfriend Greg was one of those crazy guys that camped out at the Speedway the night before the race. He drove a big old farm truck down and they build some kind of structure to party on. I was never tempted to join them, not that I was ever invited. One year GB brought me a souvenir pair of panties. My only question was "are the new?" The 1986 race was rained out. GB and I drove down from Lafayette the next day and it was also rained out. I didn't run until the next weekend and I had to work. 

I've always enjoyed the month of May festivities. I've walked the Mini Marathon for years and used to watch my brother run before that. And there are always great parties that revolve around the race. 

When I lived out East I was always asked about the race and had to admit that I'd never been. It freaked me out to watch it on television (its always blacked out here) the first year I lived there. The next year I took my vacation time over Memorial Day in 1991 and finally attended a race. I had fun, was glad to say that I'd been, but had no desire to go back. 

I went to the race again in 2004. It was fun to go with my friend Novella knows how to go to the race. She's got the perfect parking place and has charmed the "yellow shirts" at the gate to run to the Speedway Motel to use the restrooms. As great as hanging out with her was, I had no desire to return. 

This year I've been really interested in the race and have kept track of what is going on at the track in spite of all of the rain or maybe because of it. 

On Thursday night I mentioned to my brother that if he had an extra ticket, I'd love to go. J.R. called in the middle of my Saturday night waitressing shift. I was going to the race- wooo hooo!

I had a blast. There was a bit of a snafu getting to the track (we were following someone) and wound up parking in the Coke lot. The lot is infamous for partying and camping out. We ran in to Shawn, who works for J.R. and were able to park next to his Boilermaker Special. Shawn's tee shirt refers to the oft heard chant: show us your [breasts]. 

We had a good hike to the track, hauling our coolers (little sandwiches and water in mine) and junk. We were a motley crew. J.R. had a hurt leg, Jeff had a major hangover and I had sore feet from walking three miles and waitressing the day before. Cousin Jim kept us all going. 

I was really nervous when I figured out where our seats were. I think I've mentioned my irrational fear of heights. We were in the stands above the Northwest Vista. Someone told me that it is about four stories high. Ekk. The stand is just two rows up a set of steep metal stairs. It was not as bad as I thought since we were surrounded by people and fencing. Here is the view looking down from the front. 

I was excited to see the flyover of two F-16 Vipers and two F/A-18 Hornets from the Navel Strike and Air Warfare Center, based in Fallon, Nevada.  

I took what would have been the perfect photograph, except for some goofball waving his shirt.

 

Here is the photograph that was in the paper today. 

We were in the 4th turn. These are the view looking to the left (that is Danica's car in the front of the photo). 

This one is from one of the many yellow flags. The green Corvette pace car is leading the pack. 

Here is the view looking to the right, you can see the pagoda and finish line yard of bricks. 

There were eight cautions - 69 laps worth (the track is 2.5 miles, 200 laps for 500 miles). Three of those cautions resulted in incidents including a scary accident in the pit area. Before the race started I was talking to the couple sitting next to us. They were from Nashville, TN and loaned me their extra radio. Listening to the race made all of the difference in the experience. I could hear all of the behind the scenes stuff. There were many skirmishes in the making: Patrick and Briscoe, Kanaan and Andretti and other fun stuff. 

The weather was perfect and there was a strong breeze where we were sitting. Wearing a skirt was not a great idea. I had to keep my purse around my shoulder to keep the skirt from blowing up on one side and had to remember to put my hand down when ever I jumped up. 

I had a wonderful time. Thanks J.R. 

----

We got back to J.R.s and I thought it was a good idea to spend fifteen minutes on the trampoline playing 'popcorn' with my niece and nephew. Good for the soul, bad for the feet.

---- 

After the race I drove out to the Farm. Dad hosts a crew from Iowa each year and I love to go out for dinner. They bring an obscene amount of meat and lots of laughs. The Iowa guys are related to Micha, who also works with J.R. 

This is what was left after the fifteen of us ate!

I got to spend some quality time with Cooper, Micha and Tiffany's youngest son, eight months. Oldest son Henry, turned two on May 19th. Keep them in your prayers, Tiffany is battling cancer. 

Dad and neighbor Craig Leek. Craig has every right to look so wiped out. He was Buddy Lazier's first turn spotter. As we watched the race (it was broadcast that evening) we quizzed the poor guy to death about racing. 

I was glad to have today off to nap and read. It was drizzing just enough to avoid mowing the grass one more day. 

you never know how the day will end

Nora and Evan Dando

Click here to watch Evan singing Being Around

post red key shift post

I never blog after my Saturday night Red Key shift, because it is late and I'm typically damn crabby. I love working at the Key, but I'm usually tired of people by the end of it.

Tonight was especially brutal. Not because of the work- I got my ass kicked after the Butler game, but I enjoy the challenge. I am the waitress and the cook so I'm in charge of my destiny.

What made the furrow in my brow deeper was the conversation of a couple that was sitting at the end of the bar. The end where I keep my waitress pad and get drinks. They appeared to be on a first date which is always fun to eavesdrop on. They were in their mid-twenties and full of bluster and bragging. At first it was fun to listen to, the telling of schools and work places. Then the conversation turned to their childhood.

The girl talked about how horrible her parents were and how mistreated she was. How they didn't know how to deal with someone as smart as she was. I was anxious to hear if she was chained in the basement or locked in a closet. Can you guess what torture she was subjected to? She had to mow the lawn! I almost smacked her.

The boy grew up on a farm. Guess what his dad made him do? G0 fishing! Seriously, he was telling how awful it was.

Then the girl started on a whole diatribe about how she was a good student because she was trying to please her parents. Guess what darling, wanting to make your parents proud does not end with report cards.

Damn it, I'm still riled up six hours later. I hope they live happily ever after- and don't have any children.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch....err, bar there was a cute guy that I'd never seen before. He was funny and polite. He grew up in West Lafayette and also attended Purdue University. He was still there at "last call" and the bartender invited him to join us for a drink at the bar down the street.

I was planning on going straight home, but my arm was easily twisted.

Cute boy and I talked politics. He's a political consultant, working for the "other side of the aisle," as they say. I loved that we actually talked about issues and not point fingers. When we were picking out songs on the juke box, he let it slip that he was a guitar player. And it gave me the chance to slip in the nonchalant "I write about music."

I had the nagging feeling that he was younger than me, but quite frankly I was not interested in finding out. Not yet anyway. I was enjoying talking about music, college and the current Farm Bill. I was enjoying his hand on my arm. Then the shoe dropped. A guy in our group asked him where he went to school and when he graduated. 1998. As if that was not horrifying enough, that is when he graduated from HIGH SCHOOL. A mere nineteen years after I did.

Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.

rainy night

Dating has been on my mind more than ever lately. 

Maybe it's because Valentine's Day is around the corner, maybe because it's winter or maybe because I went to a Guild meeting today in a jewelry store and everyone got their wedding rings cleaned but me- because I don't have one. Maybe it's because I'm 46 and never been married. And not getting any younger. 

Or maybe it's because I'm tired of doing things by myself. 

Not the usual things that most women won't do alone. 

I'm perfectly happy going to concerts, eating out, buying a house and picking out my own jewelry. 

I want someone to help me to re-light the water heater. Have you ever tried to light one by yourself?  Pushing and holding down on one knob while holding back the little metal door to get to the pilot light, jugging a flashlight and a lit match. Kneeling on the concrete floor of a dark basement? Usually while wearing a bathrobe because you didn't know the water heater was out until you jumped in the shower. Praying that you don't blow up or catch your hair on fire when you strike the match by holding the match book between your teeth. 

I want to jump in my truck and find the tank full. Not because I can't pump my own gas or pay for it. Because I've put almost every drop of gas in that vehicle for the last six years. For the last 5200 miles. What a treat it would be to drive past the station with out stopping every 300 miles or so. 

I want to open the refrigerator and find something besides cat food, diet Pepsi and take-out containers. Not that I can't by groceries or cook. Eating alone is a challenge. Buying a loaf of bread is a commitment. A commitment to 16 grilled cheese sandwiches. A commitment to 32 pieces of toast. A commitment to feeding the birds. 

I want to have plans on a Friday night. Not because I sit home on Fridays. But because I'd love to have a date. 

That's all, really. 

miss cellaneous month-end wrap up

Red Key- men's room wall, January 25, 2008

I finally made the men's room wall. I always have been a late bloomer!
Thanks to Maureen for showing it to me (why she was in the men's room is a whole 'nother story). Now, if only we knew who "KG" was - Kute Guy?, Kenny G?, Karmann Ghia?, Kilo Gram?

But back to the wrap-up.

I really expected for my life to slow down this month. I pictured that my house would be sparking clean, my desk at work would be clear and I'd sleep so much that my face would have permanent pillow marks.

No, no and no.

Those pipe dreams aside, it was a good month.

Meeting Robert Egger and reading his book, Begging for Change has really made me re-think how not for profit agencies do business. Its a good feeling, but slightly overwhelming.

I wound up writing parts of a cover story for NUVO.

MLK Day at the farm was a blast as usual, but I think I'm still recovering. Sprinkled in with all of the fun is a big work day. I was at the farm from 9:00 am until midnight - lots of cooking and cleaning and keeping people from falling in to the fryers.

I was reminded (and re-reminded) not to be a bragger.

I booked a trip to Ireland (woo hoo!).

Apparently it is okay with you dear readers, to date men that are younger than my television.

Stuff I didn't blog about:

Crabbiness. I was crabby for a good chunk of the month. I'd wake myself up because I was scowling in my sleep.

The computer ate my column. I e-mailed my 1200 word Broad Ripple Gazette column to the editor before the deadline. The first time since, well, the first time ever. I titled the subject line "don't faint." Well, faint we almost did. Only one paragraph of the column transmitted. I went to work last Sunday and tried to retrieve it. No luck. I spent the afternoon alternating between re-writing the column, stamping my little feet and crying. That was also the first and only day in January that I was not scheduled to work any of my three jobs. And, of course I remember that first version as being the best thing I've ever written.

I make a real point not to blog about work. It was a challenging month. That's all I'm saying.

Overall, the good outweighed the bad. The month was a great kick-off to 2008.

I'm looking forward to seeing what the year brings.