5:00 Fridays - For Duke

So I suppose it's not news anymore that Duke won some big basketball tournament. I inadvertently taught my sons to do air quotes and say "the game" because everyone around the water cooler seems to talk incessantly about "the game" regardless the time of year. Now Bird and Deal taunt and mock Mac Daddy every time he watches sports (It's only sports or the news with that guy. I don't know why he can't branch out into quality programming like Gossip Girl.).

I don't know squat about sports and usually choose my bracket based on very important, studied criteria such as school colors, mascot, and the city the school is located in. I don't know any player names and sure as hell don't know any stats. I didn't even know what "in the paint" meant until I got my friend John Hollis' book called Life in the Paint (Dude, it's for sale on Amazon. Check it out. John is a whole mess of awesome, but don't tell him I told you so. I like to keep him on my curmudgeonly stubborn side.). And then on Twitter @illig sent me straight to Google with his cager reference.

It would only make sense that I honor Duke in today's 5:00 Fridays post.

Duke Ellington, that is. You didn't really think I'd toast Coach K and the Dukies, did you?


Duke's a Champ (from The Daily Cocktail book my friend Kate gave me)

1-2 ounces vodka
1/2 ounce blackberry brandy

Pour the vodka and blackberry brandy into a mixing glass half filled with ice (cubed, not crushed). Stir and strain into a martini glass. Kick back and listen to some jazz...and I ain't talkin' Utah.


A few lyrics from Duke Ellington's Cocktail for Two:

"Most any afternoon at five
We'll be so glad we're both alive
Then maybe fortune will complete her plan
That all began
With cocktails for two"

The Problem with Reading a la Bret & Jermain

The problem with Bird learning to read is that I ca no longer wear my favorite T-shirt that my friend Will brought me from a Flight of the Conchords concert (never mind that he bought the shirt in a youth size for his son and in his Newcastle stupor he didn't realize that the shirt looked like this).

5:00 Fridays

Today's drink was inspired by a brush from my childhood and a long lost peek into the girl I was and the character I dreamed of becoming. I had an old clock radio as my only source of electronic entertainment (That is, until I got Merlin for Christmas one year). My clock radio was the kind where the numbers were cut in half and flipped over with an audible click instead of the new fangled digital gizmos out there today.

I cranked up the radio when Glen Campbell came on. I turned that little dial as far as it would go, giving nary a thought to the lousy reception, distortion, or static. I had to crank it up as loud as I could to drown out the sound of my older (and much hipper) brother yelling at me to turn that crap off. I closed my eyes, pictured myself on the back of a horse in a rodeo ring, suede chaps, red cowboy boots, thick ponytail flapping out from under my hat, and the crowd losing their shit over me. I swayed and sang along, fancying myself a cow girl.

Never mind that I had never seen a horse up close and didn't own cowboy boots until I was 32 years old. These hard facts are irrelevant to my childhood fantasy. Play along.

So on the way home from Deal's karate class yesterday, Rhinestone Cowboy came on the radio. It was a during a particularly vulnerable moment when I was feeling like the outside world viewed me as a suburban pot pie making, minivan driving, denim capri and Keds wearing, soccer mom. Never mind that I do not drive a minivan, do not own capris or Keds of any kind, and neither of my sons plays soccer. You get my drift. When I heard Glen on the radio yesterday I was transformed to my school girl, daydreaming self.

I cranked my factory installed no name radio and was a cowgirl, baby.

And here's my Cowgirl's Prayer, straight from The Cocktail Bible that Morningside Mom generously gave me for my birthday at our very first meeting at the Type A Mom Conference. For the record, I bet you the entire balance of my 401k that she'd be singing along too. I know she'd belt out Rhinestone Cowboy in her best a capella performance voice. We better add this ditty to our road trip mix tape.


Cowgirl's Prayer

Fill a tall glass with ice. Pour in 2 shots of golden tequila (good quality here, folks...we outgrew the cheap stuff in 1989). I ounce of fresh lime juice. Finish off with lemonade. Stir ever so gently and garnish with a slice of lemon, lime, or be crazy and use both.

Now, about that cowboy hat and red boots I've always coveted...

5:00 Fridays

My friend Gerry "The Foghorn" inspired today's cocktail, and I'm hoping it's not foreboding for our upcoming jaunt to the beach. Can we be gracious guests and give Foghorn a hand, please? Not a hand like he's the old dude in Up who needs help crossing the street; I mean applause, people.

Here's the open target now for Foghorn to tell everyone I gave him the clap. Homonyms can make our language so unseemly.

I'm pretty sure there never has been, and likely never will be, a Hurricane named after me. It's a dubious claim to fame, but from a girl who never had personalized pencils and monogrammed towels, much a less a doll or Barbie who looked like me, I'll take infamy in place of fame. Then again, I bet no one is naming their babies Katrina these days. I do live with Hurricanes Bird and Deal, and I proudly pay my taxes in the city of the once-won-the-Stanley-Cup-and-then-sucked-like-a-Dyson-and-then-blew-chunks-in-the-playoffs Carolina Hurricanes.

And let's just say I've indulged in a Hurricane or five on my days of revelry in New Orleans.


Hurricane
1 ounce vodka (not the bottom shelf crap, folks)
splash of grenadine
1 ounce gin
1 ounce light rum
1/2 ounce Bacardi 151
1 ounce amaretto
splash of Triple Sec
3 ounces grapefruit juice
3 ounces pineapple juice
Vitamin B
2 Tylenol

Fill a tall glass with ice. Use a hurricane glass if you have one. It is important you pour everything into the glass in the order listed. Add the juices last. No need to stir, and if you indulge in a few of these you won't be stirring at all the next morning, at least not without pain and nausea. Garnish this cocktail with a pineapple slice. Be wary of slurping this goodness through a straw. This is a sipping libation. I speak from experience.

Take Vitamin B and Tylenol before going to bed.

Now let this be a reminder to check your emergency kits and windows! Cheers!

Kidz Bop Suckz

I hate Kidz Bop. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it. For starters I can't stand when companies spell words in a cutesy way, especially when it comes to children. Here I am trying to teach my just-learning-to-read rising first grader that the plural of "kids" does not end in a "z." Of course he argues with me because he holds up the damn Kidz Bop CD case as evidence. Granted, Bird is a contrarian by nature (just like Mac Daddy, ahem, just sayin'), but in this case he's not being argumentative. I am a mother and a marketer, and in both roles I can't stand cutesy spelling. It's no different than the nonsensical babytalk that the Rugrats and Wonder Pets babble. All that Ga Ga is Ka Ka.

Those baby voices and Kidz Bop make my ears hurt like the entire city of Cleveland grating their fingernails on a chalkboard in unison to the beat of Rock n' Roll Hoochie Koo.

Unless my children are the ones singing, I have no interest in hearing a bunch of kids sing. Sorry, folks, but that ain't music to my ears. Kidz Bop takes top 40 pop music and records a bunch of kids and tweens singing those songs, many of which would not make the parental rating cut in my house. When the lyrics include things like "just shut your mouth" or "stupid," I turn it off. Likewise when the lyrics crank out some homeboy garble and attitude like "witchchoo" instead of "with you." Obviously poetic license reigns in song writing. For adults. Kids's music is a different story. I cannot stand the too cool for school attitude and lost innocence of youth that Kidz Bop purports. Besides, the original is always better. Kidz Bop bastardizes the songs, making car rides painfully numbing.

I think such music perpetutates the grown-up-too-soon attitude, lack of manners, and disrespect in the same way that all that writing on the hiney of girls' pants does. It's simply not age appropriate, not that words sprawled across one's fanny is ever appropriate. My sons are almost 6 and 4. They got those damn Kidz Bop CDs in McDonald's Happy Meals, that are age appropriate (And save the McDonald's lashing for another day, folks. Yes, we eat there occasionally and dig it. Move off the soapbox.). Personally, I think it was a sucky move for McDonald's to include those CDs as a Happy Meal toy. I'm all for music instead of made in China junk, but at least make it good music that isn't so precocious. I don't know about you, but I see plenty of bratty kids running amok. The last thing I need is for those kids to start cranking out orders for chicken noodle soup with a soda on the side.

There's plenty of good music for kids out there. I don't buy a lot of music that is kid specific, but my boys do listen to music not in the kid genre that is perfectly fun and appropriate. Here's a sampling of some staples on our iPod:

Journey - especially Don't Stop Believin'
Abba - Mamma Mia is a crowd fave.
The Beatles - We even build an Octopus's Garden every time we go to the beach.
KC and the Sunshine Band - Boogie Shoes gets us all dancing.
Cats soundtrack - Magical Mister Mistoffeles just might be our next cat's name.
Jimmy Buffet - Chanson Pour les Petits Enfants is a sure fire way to chill out the kids. And it helps with the French lessons.
Squirrel Nut Zippers - Just fun to jam to
Beach Boys and anything beachy - Good ole happy tunes with a bit of shag mixed in
Bare Naked Ladies - Fun music, but I just tell Bird and Deal that the band's name is BNL.

And these days there are plenty of good bands out there geared toward kids. We just saw Dan Zanes a few nights ago, and the show was fantastic. I'm ready to be a groupie! The Sippy Cups are also fun without being dorky (OK, but a bit of dorkiness is part of their appeal.). They Might Be Giants is awesome music whether it's the original stuff or their kid stuff. I mean really, "A little birdhouse in your soul" is so lovely and lilting. And they all beat the freaking Wiggles by a long shot.

Free Stuff for Everyone

I have discovered a few things I'd like to share with you. I love a bargain and don't part easily with a buck under the best of circumstances, though Mac Daddy might beg to differ. These days a buck doesn't stretch too far unless you want a Golden Arches double cheeseburger or some Made in China lead laden toy trucks from the One Spot. I have some nifty little things that are worth that hard earned buck. And...

Drum roll, please...

This time my little ol' opinions come with free giveaways! I have a Build-A-Bear Workshop Bear and $10 gift certificate and a Spanish music CD for kids for one ever-so-lucky reader. That reader could be YOU. All you have to do is go to the Build-A-Bear Workshop website and tell me what outfit the child in your life would adore. Make sure you leave your email address so I can notify you if you win. I'll choose the winner at random and mail in time for the goodies to perch under your tree. And if you are so inclined, I can donate the bear in your name instead. So go ahead, what are you waiting for, folks?

Every Kid Deserves a Bear Hug
Build-A-Bear Workshop is Deal's Happy Place. We celebrated his third birthday there. He is a boy who digs his teddy bear after all. Wow. The staff was amazing. I wonder what they pump into the air there to be so perky and, well, happy. I mean, their job does entail working with little kids (and their parents) all day. The experience was postively fabulous for kids and adults alike. Granted, my boys did choose the ugliest outfits in the joint, despite my futile attempts to sway them towards something cute. They love playing with those little bears, regardless how fugly the outfits are. Deal loves that he even chose a heart for his bear and got to stuff it. Build-A-Bear Workshop is a fun outing, whether it's on your own or for a birthday. Sure beats getting a bunch of Oriental Trading plastic choking hazard crap in a goody bag.

Singin' En Espanol
I don't even speak Spanish but the little Lango Adventure Con Cosmo CD will have you tapping your toes and singing along in words you don't understand (unless of course you do understand Spanish). The songs are lively and fun and don't sound like anything a certain purple dinosaur might belt out. Bird learns German and Japanese in kindergarten, yet he has no problem picking up the lyrics when he hears this CD. Nevermind that neither of us has any idea what we're saying.

Digital Storytime
Bird and Deal can eat up books. When we travel we heft around a mini library of books for the airport, the plane, the hotel, the restaurants. The books, along with the laptop and various other necessities one brings along when traveling with kids, are enough to made a chiropracter very rich. Digital stories enter stage left. MobiStories are virtual books that we can download right to our laptop. There are a variety of stories all organized by age group. I was pleasantly surprised by the range of international stories and folk tales. This is no run-of-the-mill video. This is a virtual book with flipping pages and all. Still motion with words, read along text, and music. This is not a video. It's convenient for travel, and there are no ripped pages to tape up when your kids fight over who gets to turn the page. I can't see MobiStories replacing real books in my house, but they certainly have a purpose considering all the traveling we do. But at bed time, nothing beats the sound of turning pages and the feel of a book to lull the little ones to sleep. Anywa, try it out yourself. You can download up to $10.00 for free. I said FREE. Just go to mobistories.com, select a book, and enter code BSM187A at check out. Leave me a comment telling me what you think.

So that does it for my little review and giveaway. Pass this on, unless you want to be greedy and keep your chance of winning pretty good. I'll use random.org to choose a winner on Friday, December 12. You have until midnight December 11 to respond.

Have a beary great day!

Dancing with the Universe

My dear friend Cathy, a good Minnesota girl who's in tune with all things worldy, sent this link to me. She is the mother of two girls who is raising them with a wonderful perspective of the world, and earth, around them.

There is something really engaging about this video. When I watched it I felt like I do every year during the Olympics opening ceremony. I see all those countries' flags and all this emotion bubbles up in me like some sort of power of the universe speaking to me. I am in utter awe of the different countries from A to Z. Places I cannot pronounce or find on a map fascinate me. Incidentally, my brother carried the flag for Palestine when they had a team of three in the Olympics in Atlanta. He was blown away. That brother of mine is always the one doing cool stuff.

I realize that the world is oh so much bigger than the five mile radius that I live in. Don't we all sweat the small stuff and glorify the even smaller? It's time we snap out of it. When I see those flags or watch this video, I remember that people all over the world love their children the way that I love mine. Mothers and fathers in every country on this vast planet of ours have dreams for their children. They cry when they are ill, struggle when they are naughty, laugh when they are goofy, and sometimes weep at the sheer beauty and miracle of life's chain at night when the house is peaceful and quiet and they watch their children's bellies move up and down with each slumbering breath.

People, not regimes, comprise a nation. We all pray for rain or sun or warmth or shade from the same sky. We are such a speck of something greater. Larger. Yet connected. Inextricably connected. Did Dr. Seuss indeed have it right?

Here's a translation of the lyrics from the video. And by the way, what a freaking awesome voice that young woman has! All that vocal power from a 17-year old kid from Bangladesh. The words are taken from a Tagore poem. Tagore is a Nobel prize winning revered Bengali poet whose writing transcends time and culture. He was a fierce protester of the British rule in India and wrote short stories, poems, essays, and plays about political topics, focusing largely on India's independence from the Raj. See, I'm Bengali too so this political writing and ranting is in my blood. I grew knowing about Tagore but did not come to appreciate his works until adulthood. My mom sang his songs, though in a language I didn't understand. My father gifted us books as subtle clue to our culture and heritage. I've had many of his books lining my shelves for years. It's only now that I crack them open.

These lyrics are particularly poignant.

Stream of Life by Rabindranath Tagore

The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day
runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.

It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth
in numberless blades of grass
and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.

It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth
and of death, in ebb and in flow.

I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life.
And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment.

Bad Influence

I think I am a bad influence on my children. Others are starting to notice too. Complete strangers give us looks of disdain, acting as if we should be embarrassed and shamed. Sometimes when Bird and Deal are with me they start writhing about in wild ways, blabbering uncontrollably, flailing about like octopuses on speed. They jump and scream like David Archuleta-crazed school girls at times. This is exponentially amplified when maracas and other such instruments make their way into the scene.

All because of KC and the Sunshine Band.

They can totally tell the difference between Boogie Shoes, Shake Your Booty, and That's the Way I Like It. Bird thinks he is my own personal Boogie Man. Deal's all about gettin' down tonight. They both know all the words to Give it Up. Granted, there are only four words that keep repeating in that song. Come on now, sing it with me. I know you are in your head right now.

Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na,
Baby give it up
Give it up, Baby give it up

Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na,
Baby give it up
Give it up, Baby give it up

Man, that's gonna be an ear worm.

I have held my boys' innocent little hands and personally escorted them over the deep end. I can only imagine the shame Bird will feel in music class when he starts kindergarten this fall. The other kids probably rock out to Coldplay and Zeppelin.

Bird and Deal are in desperate need of better musical company. An intervention even. I have clearly done them a disservice in the musical taste department. For the record, they also love Barry White (But what's not to like?!), Neil Diamond (think Sweet Caroline sung LOUDLY by two preschoolers), and Magical Mister Mistoffelees (I even took Bird to see Cats!). Other moms are ordaining their kids into the world of shows and concerts by taking them to Rain or James Taylor. Nope, not me.

If I'm not careful, my boys are going to have my same guilty pleasures on their iPod equivalents that will probably be microchips of music implanted in their brains one day. Trust me, my taste in music is impossibly bad. Not to be emulated. And so here goes, but a small sampling of my list of really, really, BBBBBAAAAAADDDD songs that I know all the words to and secretly LOVE:

Summer Nights - Olivia Newton John (Find me one person out there who doesn't love Grease!)
Don't Stop Believin' - Journey
Too Much Time on My Hands - Styx
Rock Me Gently - Andy Kim
Let the Music Play - Shannon
Rhinestone Cowboy - Glen Campbell (Just like bloggers...getting cards and letters[and comments] from people they don't even know)
Top of the World - the Carpenters (Karen rocked!)
Mandy - Barry Manilow
Knock Three Times - Tony Orlando (with or without Dawn?)
Unbelievable - E.M.F. (I also love me some E.L.O.)
Heaven is a Place on Earth - Belinda Carlisle
Don't Cha - Pussycat Dolls
Paradise by the Dashboard Light - Meatloaf (Mac Daddy *abhors* this song. It's a wonder I married him.)
Summertime and Gettin' Jiggy Wit It - Will Smith (He's on my *list.*)
Girlfriend in a Coma - The Smiths
Waitress in the Sky - The Replacements (Mac Daddy and I still sing this whilst chuckling on every single flight we take. Some jokes don't get old.)
Surrender - Cheap Trick (SO GOOD LIVE in Memorex!)
Urgent - Foreigner (Will always remind me of Chad Londeree, who gave me Foreigner 4 for my 13th birthday.)


I really need my brother or Tony to come intervene.

And don't go thinking I'm all uncool and dorky. I can hear your snarkiness right now. Snort snort...."That Dirt & Noise chick is so not hip. My dead great aunt is so much cooler." Perhaps the cast of Young at Heart is cooler than I am. Yeah, I'm tragically unhip. Cheesy also comes to mind. So what? Sure, I might be stuck in the 60s, 70s, 80s, but not today, but you won't recognize a damn thing on Tony's mix tape either.

So what's the verdict? Can the damage to Bird and Deal be undone?

What's on your iPod that you're willing to fess up to?

Pint-Size Fan

This is the chanting I heard from the back seat this morning:

"David Archuleta! David Archuleta!

Mommy, is he gonna win?

David Archuleta! David Archuleta!"


Deal has only seen a snippet of American Idol, yet he is apparently hooked. I imagine he replays the parts he saw over and over and over again in his head. I'm pretty sure those Idol producers aren't looking to tap the preschool market. Then again, the Wiggles could use some competition.