One of THOSE entries…

one of these things is not like the others
dido, baba, me, dad, mom, grandma :: manchester, ct :: april 1976

(Ya’ll can go grab the kleenex and curse Mr. CC Chapman for the inspiration for this entry... I’ll wait.)

Today, Sept. 19, is my father’s birthday.

Normally, I take it hard… aren’t birthdays a celebration of life? He’s dead. Has been for a while now.  It makes it hard for me to be all “*happy dance* it’s my dad’s birthday!” because, well, he’s not here to celebrate it with me. And it sucks.

For whatever reason, this year started out relatively painless. To be honest, it started out on a kick-ass note. J and I headed into Boston for some retail therapy of the best sort. We hit the BU Bookstore for our traditional “stock up on new BU gear to wear to the hockey games” purchases. I had to deviate from tradition *just* a wee bit and get myself one of the National Championship shirts in addition to my long-sleeved t and sweatshirt. (Well, as much as I love my boys I have to bask while I still can. I really doubt they’ll repeat, but who knows what the freshmen class will bring. We’ll see on the 3rd.)

[Tangent: Can I just say that I LOVE the fact that the BU Bookstore is in a Barnes & Noble? I got to use my B&N discount card -saved $16!! On clothes!]

Then we went out to lunch at Fire+Ice. Eh. I’m wicked spoiled - in Ann Arbor, MI, there’s this awesome restaurant called BD’s Mongolian Barbeque. Basically, it’s a make-your-own stir fry place, and mere words can’t do it justice. It really needs to be experienced. Fire+Ice is good - for what it is - but God, do I miss BD’s. Crappy atmosphere aside, I did still manage to stuff myself silly.

After that, we wandered to the Pru. I had to go to Levenger to get supplies for my latest project. Oddly enough, I was out of Circa parts. I was in desperate need of rings and covers. I have no idea how that happened! *grin* I spent way too much, but amazingly, everything I bought was on sale. Levenger stock up sale FTW!

Came home all excited to watch Matty Gilroy take on the Bruins, only to find out the game was blacked out. BLACKED OUT! And not a single regional channel was showing it. NESN had tennis! TENNIS! W.T.F?!?!?!  So not happy about that. I think I’m calling Comcast and getting NHL Center Ice. *sigh* Like we don’t have enough sports channels already. *grumble*

Since I didn’t have the hockey game to keep me from being productive, I came into my (still under freaking construction) office to work on Mr. B2’s b-day gift. HOLY CRAP. I am NEVER doing anything like that again. I think, all together, I lost 4 days to it. So, yeah - if you’re expecting anything that requires high levels of creative energy from me, you’ll be disappointed for a while. I’m done. Kaput. Finis.

So… before I started on the Project From Hell, I had to check in with Twitter and Facebook. I saw CC’s video in that little sidebar whoozey on FB and remembered I wanted to watch it. It’s really a beautiful and touching tribute to his family. The bits with his Dad are… they made me cry. I bawled through the entire 5 minutes and then watched it again. And one more time.

I don’t know - maybe I’m more emotional about it because of what today is. Maybe I’m just a big softie at heart. (SHHHHHHH! Don’t tell anyone!)

At any rate, it got me thinking. I spent a lot of time with my mother’s parents (the ukrainians) and I have so many great memories of my Dido. He wasn’t perfect but he used to take me to Carvel and the park all the time in this big old Buick that smelled like old man. Really, for a little kid, what more do you need than that? So many of my memories of him focus on meals in the dining room, watching him, my uncle and my father (and sometimes the in-laws) doing shots of Metaxa. (I have NO idea how I remember THAT of all things!) He got to meet his first three grandchildren at least. We were his pride and joy and we knew it.

I never got to know my father’s father. He died when my father was in Vietnam. My father never talked about him.

Since I didn’t know my grandfather, I started thinking about my father and what he would have been like as a grandfather.

To be quite blunt, he would have fucking LOVED it.

He knew that I was never going to have kids. He might have known it before I did because he never said a word about grandkids. Not ever. He’d talk about when I got married, and then, after the divorce, he’d tell me to never get married, but he never once brought up the idea of having grandkids. Instead, he put a lot of energy into joking about the business he was going to start -  “Rent A Kid”. Basically, it was Big Brothers / Big Sisters without the commitment. You want to take Bobby to his first Sox game, but there’s no Bobby? Rent him! You want to take your daughter prom dress shopping, but your real daughter would rather go to the prom in a tux and Chuck Taylors? Rent a girly girl for the afternoon!

You have to admit, it was a pretty brilliant idea. It would never fly - especially not in today’s world - but there are days when even I think taking a kid to their first Beanpot would be fun, but there’s no way in hell I’m making that sort of commitment for two Monday nights in February!!! I’m positive, though, that my father would have covered all his bases. I’m pretty sure there would have been rentable reasons as to why birth control is a Good Idea.

I don’t know what impact his father had on him or if it had any thing to do with the way I was raised, but he was a good father. He was strict as heck some times. Other times, he was wrapped so tight around my fingers he’d cut off the circulation. We spent a lot of time together and he was my best friend. He used to joke that, at first, he was disappointed that he didn’t have a son and then he realized that he had a daughter who didn’t know she was a girl. When he was feeling playful, he’d introduce me to people as his son Tom. I grew up with some minor gender issues, but I’ve always been the uber-tomboy and my dad loved it. He did not like it when my body reminded him I was not his son.  Our first trip bra shopping? I wish I had taken a picture of his face! He was totally not prepared for that or the other joys specific to being the father of a teenaged girl. (My mom was pretty much a non-person by the time I was 13; Dad was left to do this all on his own because she and I couldn’t be in the same room.)

I could go on and on… he had a lot of faults, and I hated him sometimes. REALLY hated him. But at the same time, he was the type of father more guys should aspire to be. He was amazing - he taught me so much, and instilled so many good things in me, that I know I wouldn’t be the person I am if he hadn’t been who he was. (And, yes, one day I *will* get that MBA and really make him proud, but I’m still recovering from the 2nd undergrad…) Seriously, I look back on all of it, even the way he died, and I’m thankful I knew him. I’d give anything for more time with him, but I’m beyond thankful I had 26 good, quality years with him.

I’m not sure how to end this, so I’ll share this joke. Someone sent it to me a long time ago, and it perfectly captures him. (That tweeting dad in the Verizon commercial (“I’m sitting on the porch”) is also very much like him…) Where was I? Oh yeah, the joke.

An old man was sitting on a bench at the mall. A young man walked up to the bench and sat down. He had spiked hair in all different colors: green, red, orange, blue, and yellow.

The old man just stared.

Every time the young man looked, the old man was staring.

The young man finally said sarcastically, “What’s the matter old timer, never done anything wild in your life?”

Without batting an eye, the old man replied, “Got drunk once and had sex with a peacock. I was just wondering if you were my son.”

I keep on fallin’

sasquatch in his natural habitat :: agganis arena, boston, ma :: march 15 2009

It’s a little more than 2 weeks until the puck drops and the 2009-2010 BU season begins!!!

I. Can. Not. Wait.

Seriously. The hubby and I are all twitchy… we’ve been viewing videos on YouTube, obsessing over players we’ve watched at BU (Gilroy, Curry, Petey Mac, Baby Bourque, etc.), and I’ve been known to sing “The Song” from time to time. I like to sing it at stop lights. When I have the windows down. With the hand motions. Just because.

And did I mention?

WE’RE! GOING! TO! FENWAY!

WE’RE!!! GOING!!!!! TO!!!!! FENWAY!!!!!!!

(I think that deserves a “F*ck ‘em up! F*ck ‘em up! BC SUCKS!!!!”  BU. BC. Fenway Park. I think that’s a Boston-area college hockey fan’s top fantasy come to life right there! Well, it’s mine at least… the media was calling it the “worst kept secret”, but how could you have the Winter Classic at Fenway and not include COLLEGE HOCKEY’S MOST INSANE RIVALRY? Especially when the two schools are just down the Green Line from Fenway…)

Anyhoo… let’s get to the point, shall we?

Three conversations. Three people who know me three different ways. One conclusion.

Freaks me out.

I’ve been thinking about this hard over the past few weeks now, and I’ve come a conclusion of my own.

When things are meant to occur in my life, they just happen. I fall into them.

Case in point # 1 - Hockey
Working in hockey was a pipe dream of mine, but I had no idea how to go from fan to staff. I started thinking about how to get my foot in the door with the Whale, and BAM! I was hired by the UConn Men’s hockey program as a student manager. I pushed that into an internship with the Whale. From there, I wound up in Toledo as the Director of Community Relations for the Toledo Storm (ECHL affiliate of the Red Wings). Granted, my career in hockey didn’t last as long as I would have liked it to, but at least I can say I did it. I achieved my goal… there aren’t a lot of people who can say that because the competition is so freaking ridiculous. I’ve tried to get back into the front office - I send my resume out every once in a while, but honestly, the desire isn’t there any more. I’d rather be a fan and watch the game rather than be staff and run around during the game.

Case in point # 2 - Accounting/Bookkeeping
I failed BOTH my accounting classes when I was getting my marketing degree. My dad was an accountant. He used to help me with my homework and I STILL didn’t understand it. (Yup. That’s right. I am the daughter of an accountant who couldn’t pass an accounting class if my life depended on it. RAWK!)  After wandering around Toledo, aimlessly, looking for something that I liked doing as much as working in hockey, I took a job at an ad agency. Slowly, I started helping out more and more with the books and accounting FINALLY started making sense. (Almost 5 years after those classes. I’m a little retarded some times.) After that, I just got more and more involved into accounting/bookkeeping things over the years. After moving back to New England, I took a class for kicks, which turned into enrolling part time, which then ended with me graduating Summa Cum Laude with an accounting degree, and wouldn’t you know? I use that damn degree daily. And I love it.

Case in point # 3 - Indie music
This, of course, is the most recent thing and one of the oddest. I’ve been over-involved with instrument for a while now (photography, lame ass graphic design, tweeting, running their Facebook group, stalling like hell on the fan site, supporting them on the road) and was kind of thinking about how to take that further. They all seem wicked busy and I’m lost now that I don’t have homework to do after work anymore, so I thought I’d extend a helping hand. Then, I kind of chickened out. They know I’ll do anything for them, and they’ve been good at asking/telling me what they need from me, so I’m just going to back off and let them come to me.  But it’s been in the back of my mind for a while and those conversations definitely didn’t help matters.

A few days ago, the amazing CC Chapman retweeted a request from his musician friend, Matthew Ebel. Matthew was looking for some virtual booking assistants. Without even thinking about it, I replied and before I knew it, I was hired. The funny/sad thing is, other than hearing CC talk him up a lot, I never really checked Matthew’s music out. I took the job based on my blind faith that CC wouldn’t steer me wrong.

I should have checked out the music the second I heard about him… instead I jotted his name down on my Someday/Maybe list and forgot all about it. (Note to self - check the books & music S/M list more often!!!) I am a freaking moron of the highest degree!

I love his stuff. I really love it. It’s my kind of music. After several days of listening obsessively to the music files he sent us, I can’t pick a favorite song.  I’m torn between “Drive Away”, “Everybody Needs a Robot”, “Trees” and well, the rest of them. He’s got a unique sound all his own, but it’s comfortable. (That’s the same word I use to describe instrument’s music, too… hmmmm.) I’m wicked excited to help him get more exposure.

So. Yeah.

Three different “career paths” that just sort of happened. I don’t see myself quitting the day job to manage instrument, but working for both of them is great exposure to the industry. So… maybe. Just like hockey and the accounting jobs didn’t happen overnight, neither will the band management gig. We’ll just have to see…

While I’m figuring it all out, go entertain yourself and watch some Matthew Ebel videos—
1) Drive Away [vid]
2) Everybody Needs a Ninja [vid]
3) Everybody Needs a Robot - live from Accident Hash HQ [vid]
4) Trees [vid]

Hockey face

aaron :: dodd stadium, norwich, ct :: august 15, 2009

“I liked them as people, and I liked the music - and that’s still the case,” he says. “I really like the music.” (Bertis Downs, R.E.M.)

I keep thinking about the conversation Soup and I had outside of Up or On the Rocks last Saturday.  We were talking about groupies vs. friends because Skinny was wearing a “got groupies” t-shirt. I understand that the original dictionary definition isn’t derogatory at all, but it has been twisted over the years and it’s a label I take offense to. There was a point during the show where Soup thanked the “fans” - the group I was with - and then changed it to “friends”.  It’s nice to be thought of that way. During the conversation, I pointed out that with both Instrument and All Crazy, I love the music and the people in the bands. It’s this passion for the music and this connection with the members that makes me travel all over creation to see them. Granted, friends came first with Instrument and the music came first with All Crazy, but the end result is still the same.

Being able to travel the way I do and being able to see my friends doing what they love makes me all kinds of happy. I haven’t have this much fun in a long time. I know it’s kind of silly that I drop everything and rearrange my schedule (see three bands in one day), but it’s probably the most important thing I do for me after hockey.

A long time ago I was told that when I talk about hockey, I get this look on my face. It’s hard to describe but apparently my whole face lights up, my eyes get this insane twinkle and I look massively different.

The bands cause my “hockey face” now.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the three conversations I’ve had and my life’s path. I keep coming back to Bertis Downs. Will my path end at the same place his did? I don’t know. Do I want it to? I don’t know.

Like everything else in my life lately, I’m just going to go with the flow and see what happens.

4 states, 3 bands, 1 day!

soup :: up or on the rocks, hartford ct :: july 4, 2009

Holy crap.

Saturday was INSANE.

I started out in beautiful Downtown Keene, NH. The boys of Instrument were playing Keene’s big music festival. Poor Ben was sick as a dog, but he managed to put on a hell of a show. “11th Hour” rocked!!! Proof again, that with the right sound people, that song is AMAZING. I’m wicked proud of them! They were a big hit with the event’s organizers and it sounds like they will be invited back.

We hung out a bit after the show and apparently, I have D-dar. (My ability to know where D was at one point amused Ben.)  Aaron, Amanda and I continued our bonding in a Subway over stolen sandwiches. We made Ben identify every dog we saw and D was blown away by his ability to find Walkers crisps in a candy store. (We got this entire lecture about how potato chips are called ‘crisps’ in London and how he had prawn ones when he was overseas.) By 3, the boys were exhausted so we had to part ways.

Which meant I had plenty of time to get to UCONN for the Marching Band Preview Show.  (By way of Putney, VT… there’s a yarn store right off of 91N that I had to check out.)

I spent some time with Melissa, Jersey and the kids before moving over to where Steve and Ellen were hanging out. I have to say that it was nice to see a lot of people I knew. So many that I hadn’t seen in YEARS - like since before Ohio. I was so amused - I was with Rittner and we sang the Alma Mater the RIGHT way. (We’re backing our MEN…) But… I don’t know. The band is this whole thing now - they have trucks and a pit and the drums are on stands during warm up. (Seriously, drumline, WTF?!) They’re so big! I mean, the drumline has a cymbal section leader, a bass section leader, a snare section leader and a tenor section leader. It’s just…weird. It’s like they’ve sold their soul to athletics. Oh wait, they did.

That said, I’ll probably rearrange my travel schedule to be back in CT on the 26th. It just seems like the right thing to do.

After the preview show, it was time to go to Hartford and see All Crazy.

I had so much fun at the show! I couldn’t stop shaking my booty and yes, “New Hampshire” was definitely in the house! Spent a lot of time talking to Soup afterwards. We talked a bit about Instrument, groupies vs. friends, and why the hubby doesn’t come out to play as much as we all wish he would. He said something that was kind of in line with what both the Honey and the co-worker had said to me. It really made me think - I’m still thinking about it and wondering how to get there from here. Like I said the other day, this wasn’t the life path I was planning on walking - but this path is MUCH more interesting. And it’s kind of similar to the path one of my (celebrity) heroes took to get where he is today. Hmmmmm.

Since I live so far away, and we have a habit of closing down the bars with the boys in the band(s), everybody gets worried about me driving home. While I am pretty stubborn about making it home, there are plenty of hotels along the Mass Pike and 495N. I’d prefer to not have to stop halfway home, but there is a VERY nice Holiday Inn in Boxboro that I’ll crash at anytime. (Highly recommended, btw.) Anyhoo, Soup always tells me that he worries about me driving home, so last night he gave me his cell phone number. I happily added him to my List O’ People To Text When I Get Home (which is getting incredibly long!).  The married woman scored a boy’s number!

So to recap - New Hampshire, Vermont, Connecticut and Massachusetts. Instrument, the UCMB, and All Crazy.  All on Saturday.

I get a couple of weeks off and then I’m Cincy bound, baby!

You say liberal like it’s a bad thing…

british museum :: london, uk :: sept 8, 2008

My dad was a staunch Republican, a wicked liberal one, but a Republican nonetheless.

Imagine his surprise when his only child began to show her political leanings.

We argued every election year and the conversations always seemed to end with, “I have no idea how the hell I wound up with a bleeding heart, tree hugging, tax and spend MA liberal as a child.” (I grew up in CT and in the early years had no idea what ‘tax and spend’  and ‘Massachusetts’ had to do with being a liberal… I used to hate it when he’d call me that, but now I’ve grown to love it. I’m not ashamed of what I am.)

The funny thing is, I learned to become a liberal from him. My father truly believed that everyone was created equal. He was offended by the idea that “all animals are created equal, but some are more equal than others.” (That’s from Orwell’s Animal Farm, but it was a common statement in our house.) He held his prejudices - despite the fact that he was my hero, he was still far from perfect - but he recognized them for what they were and taught me to do the same.

He hated “The Kennedys”, but respected Jack and Teddy’s politics. I would learn that he was jealous of the media image of their lives, of the wealth and privilege they portrayed, but at the same time he fully believed in what they stood for. Teddy Kennedy, no matter how conflicted my father was about him, was highly regarded in our house. Don’t get me wrong, my father would complain about him all the time (mostly in a “damn Democrats” kind of vein), but he also admired him. It’s got to be hard to keep to your ideals and beliefs for so long, especially when you’re in the public eye as a member of the government. My dad respected the hell out of him for that.

[Tangent: a few years ago, I volunteered for a Greek organization I had joined in college. I roomed with a member of my alumni chapter at a National Convention and every. single. day. we were there he would tell me how amazed he was that I could stick to my guns day after day. (The organization was known for heavy drinking and I’ve never touched a drop in my life. Will never touch a drop in my life.) It’s a shame my dad was long gone by that point. I think it would have tickled him to hear that.]

Needless to say, the news of Teddy’s passing hit me and hit me hard. It blew my mind how hard it hit me.

I mean, I don’t have a Teddy story. I never met the man. But he touched my life. Big time.

I *do* have a Teddy connection. One that means a lot to me.

As a bipolar person, I’m protected by the Americans With Disabilities Act of 1990. While I keep the bipolar mostly under control with medication, there are definitely days when I don’t feel like I can exist in the ‘real world’. Between the crippling depression and the destructive mania, there are more than a few days a month when I’m a liability to my employer, my friends, my family and myself. I don’t ever want to take advantage of the opportunities offered to me by the law, but I’m glad it’s there.

I’m going to Washington DC next year. It’s something my dad and I always talked about… I really want to see The Wall for myself so I can fully appreciate what I had (more than I already do…my dad could have been one of those names!) and I HAVE to go to Arlington. I’ve always wanted to go to Arlington, too, but now I NEED to go. I HAVE to say goodbye to Teddy. I couldn’t/wouldn’t go to any of the activities that were held locally, but I will mourn him, my own way, in my own timeframe…

Thank you, Teddy. For everything. You will be missed.