I had a reputation as a stay-at-home so-and-so

Happy Earth Day, Megs!



And Happy Birthday to Walker (aka, "the crown-jewel of sexual achievement")!

I saw Walker at the Nick Lowe concert last night. He was standing inside the doorway when Evan and I walked into the theater. (The show was at the Belcourt.) It was such a pleasant sight, I have to say. I love it when that happens! Anyway, we exchanged hugs and hellos and I said, "Hey, Happy Birthday soon!" He said, "How do you know it's my birthday coming up?" Because your birthday is Earth Day, Walker! I don't think that I will ever forget that. I think he was pleasantly surprised that I remembered his birthday, if not a little freaked out by my elephant-like memory. I talked to him at the intermission, and he told me that he had his birthday day all wrong throughout the weekend, telling everyone that his birthday was yesterday. So, when he woke up yesterday morning, he was all excited for his birthday, and even thought his phone was broken when he saw the wrong date . . . He's just about the cutest.

The Nick Lowe concert was fabulous. I got a most pleasant surprise before the show when I went to meet Evan at Boscos and saw our friend, Scott (aka, "the Swarthy Menace") sitting there. And he was with Barry White, one of my cousin Bo's best friends and a recent transplant to Nashville. It was sheer madness, I tells ya. Apparently, Barry's girlfriend used to intern for Scott when he was the editor of Living Blues magazine. Small world just keeps getting smaller.

Anyway, I highly recommend going to see a Nick Lowe show if you get a chance. He puts on a great show, even if it is just him standing at the mic with his guitar. He's quite the dapper Englishman. If you don't get the chance to see him live, you can listen to his concert on NPR Music, here.

I thought that maybe Elvis Costello would have joined him for a song or two, since he was in town, but no dice. But the best part of the show was when he started playing "The Beast in Me" and Evan leaned over and, with this big grin, started singing it, and then out of the corner of my eye I could see him mouthing the words the whole time. And Scott, out of the corner of my other eye, was totally giddy, leaning forward like those couple of inches were the key to better listening. There's not much better than good music.

I hope all is well in the mountains.

love, molly

previous post title source: "Rocks Off," the Rolling Stones

The sunshine bores the daylights out of me

Hey, Megs,

It's spring here in Nashville, and it's beautiful. Rites of Spring is this weekend at good old Vanderbilt. The campus is abuzz, both figuratively and literally--I think I got a contact buzz from the stench of alcohol out there.

I went for my daily walk this afternoon and got a special treat--I walked around Alumni Lawn (still as great as ever) for a half hour and listened to Spoon's sound check. It was SO SWEET! I was seriously giddy out there. All the hipster kids were out, too, and they were even more giddy! One of the kids inside the fence (remember when I got on tv talking about the controversial fence?) was talking to his friends outside the fence, and he was ever so excited because he got to hold Spoon's drumsticks. His friends took his picture and everything; it was just about the cutest thing.

At one point, the sound check started to get a bit repetitive (you know, "You guys came in a little late on that one"), so I was about to change my path. Just then, out of nowhere, I heard the opening strains of "Rocks Off," and there was Spoon playing one of my all-time favorite Stones songs. It was just perfect. Best walk I've had in weeks.

***Holy shit. Guess who I just got an e-mail from. Sam ("Not Todd") Henderson. He's in town this weekend and wants me to give him a call. What a blast from the past this will be!

I hope all's well with you. I'm sure I'll be pining a bit this weekend, wishing we were all together hanging out on the Lawn. I miss you!

love, molly

"Straight Down the Middle," Bing Crosby

The life of a golfer is not all gloom

Hey, Megs,

I feel that I must give a quick shout-out to a fellow Vanderbilt alum, Brandt Snedeker, who is currently in the clubhouse on day 2 of the Masters with a score of -7, one shot off the leader (for historical purposes, that is Trevor Immelman). Congratulations to Brandt! All of Nashville is a-twitter.

AP Photo/Denis Poroy, via usatoday.com

(He's pretty easy on the eyes, no?)

Of course, with the increased attention to the young Snedeker, sometimes comes increased attention to his alma mater. Like this, from ESPN columnist and Masters blogger, Jason Sobel (see the full blog here):

1:12 p.m.: Brandt Snedeker hits his ball on 15 ... it's rolling toward the water ... and it stays up! And now Snedeker is running down the fairway! Seems like a good time for ...

Dynamite, dynamite, when Vandy starts to fight!
V-A-N-D-Y! Vandy, Vandy, Go, Go, Go!

Um, no. No sir, Mr. Sobel. You went to Brandeis, right? This is a school with a recently-penned fight song, about which the song's co-writer stated the following, "But at Brandeis we also have a mission of social justice, and I wanted the lyrics to reflect a sense of winning greater battles in life."

That is lame. Therefore, I respectfully request that you not go about disparaging our awesome fight song about blowing shit up by incorrectly quoting its lyrics. It's "Vandy, Vandy, Oh hell yes!" I will be looking for a retraction.

And, that's all I got. I never thought I'd be writing about golf, but I felt I had to give Mr. Snedeker his due. Here's hoping he does well over the weekend--I could stand to see more golfers sprint down the fairway at Augusta National.

Hope all's well with you. Have a great weekend!

UPDATE: So, I just read a little further down in the Sobel blog and got to this:

11:15 a.m.: Posted this to my U.S. Open Round 1 Live Blog last year (What? You don't remember?), but with Vanderbilt alum Brandt Snedeker in the lead, it's worth passing along again. I give you the school fight song:

Dynamite, dynamite, when Vandy starts to fight.
Down the field with blood to yield if need be save the shield.
If victory's won when battle's done, then Vandy's name will rise in fame.
Win or lose the fates will choose, but Vandy's game will be the same.
Dynamite, dynamite, when Vandy starts to fight!
V-A-N-D-Y! Vandy, Vandy, Go, Go, Go!

Let's break it down line by line, like your 11th grade English teacher did with classic poetry, or like I did when my Mom sent me a limerick at 6:30 this morning:

Dynamite, dynamite, when Vandy starts to fight.

Fighting. I like it. Augusta National doesn't have much of that.

Down the field with blood to yield if need be save the shield.

Blood??? Hey, whatever it takes to get on top of the leaderboard ...

If victory's won when battle's done, then Vandy's name will rise in fame.

True that. True that.

Win or lose the fates will choose, but Vandy's game will be the same.

If he plays this same game throughout the weekend, the fates will be choosing a green jacket.

Dynamite, dynamite, when Vandy starts to fight!

More fighting? Sweet.

V-A-N-D-Y! Vandy, Vandy, Go, Go, Go!

Fighting and spelling. I'm down with Vandy. Go, go, go, Snedeker!

OK, Sobel. I'll forgive the gaffe. It looks like you got the fight song from an official source or something. And you seem like an alright guy. I take back what I said about Brandeis (even though social justice themes in the fight song are still kinda lame).

Happy Weekend, Megs!

love, molly

previous post title source: "In Heaven There Is No Beer," traditional

In heaven there is no beer

Dear Megan,

Some unhappy news came our way this weekend from Kevin's dad. Apparently, Kevin's nephew, Zachary, was kicked out of his college, Wheaton.

When I first heard Kevin say, "He got kicked out?!?" I thought, what could this kid possibly have done? He's a good boy, always has been. The only thing I've ever heard him do wrong is speed. (That is, drive fast.) Maybe he failed to cite a reference on a paper or something? And they have a hard-core honor pledge? Maybe he punched his roommate?

I w/racked my brain while Kevin was talking to his father, trying to think of some objectionable action that sweet Zachary could have perpetrated. Nothing I could have come up with could compare with the actual story:

Zachary met a girl at the airport when he arrived in Chicago at the beginning of his college career. (Wheaton is located in Wheaton, Illinois, about 30 miles west of Chicago.) They hit it off and have been dating ever since (so, about eight months now). Apparently, this did not please the girl's father.

So, what did the father do? What any normal father does, of course, when he disapproves of his daughter's choice in boyfriend: he hired a private detective to follow them around. And what did the private detective spot these two crazy kids doing? Shoplifting meat from the local grocer? Sniffing glue? Nope. Drinking underage.

Apparently, at Wheaton, they don't like the drinking. (It's a Christian college, which I didn't know until this whole brouhaha erupted.) Part of the Community Creed states:

While the use of illegal drugs or the abuse of legal drugs is by definition
illicit, and the use of tobacco in any form has been shown to be injurious
to health, the situation regarding beverage alcohol is more complex.
The Bible requires moderation in the use of alcohol, not abstinence.
Yet the fact that alcohol is addictive to many, coupled with the biblical
warnings against its dangers, also suggests the need for caution. . . .
Thus the question of alcohol consumption represents a prime opportunity
for Christians to exercise their freedom responsibly, carefully, and in
Christ-like love.

Therefore,

While enrolled in Wheaton College, undergraduate members of the
community will refrain from the consumption of alcohol or the use of
tobacco in all settings.

Good opportunity for the kids to exercise their freedom responsibly, dontchathink?

So, Zachary got caught breaking the rules. What does Wheaton do when kids break the rules? Well, according to the Student Development Office:

When the need for a disciplinary response arises, the deans and
vice president in the Student Development Office seek to administer
discipline in a redemptive manner and to balance compassion with
accountability.

Hence, expulsion. Without the opportunity for appeal.

Oh, the hypocrisy!

The best part of the whole story? The daughter, whom the P.I. also caught drinking underage, was expelled, too. Way to go, Dad!

The irony is delicious, no?

Poor kid. Maybe he can transfer to Vanderbilt. That type of behavior is celebrated here.

Hope all is well with you and the 'Roni, and that the dogs did not go crazy during your extended absence.

love ya, mean it!

Molly

previous post title source: "Bang the Drum All Day," Todd Rundgren

I feel so frustrated, the boss is a jerk

Hey, Megs,

How's it going on your end? I believe that I have recovered from the shocks of the extended weekend: the Heels getting stomped upon on Saturday and Memphis losing a nine-point lead with two minutes remaining in the NCAA Championship Game. Kansas? Really?

And what's with this?

Et tu, Roy?

AP Photo/Eric Gay, via yahoo.com

That was one incredible title game, though. Gotta give propers where propers are due.

The reason for my post is not to discuss sports-related issues, besides to say, as always, that the Yankees suck. I had to recount a tale of woe from work.

Yesterday, I was back here in my cubicle, trying to get some work done. There was some drama happening with something or other (as always), which led my two co-workers to heatedly discuss such drama at a table outside one of their offices. Directly outside one of their offices. As in, take one step in and you are inside one of their offices. I could not concentrate at all, of course, so I got up and walked around the office for a while, hoping that the cacophony would cease. It did, so I walked back to my cubicle, only to have it begin again. The volume on my iPod could go no further, my ears were ringing, and my patience (really at Job levels these days, I assure you!) had reached its bitter end. I scooted my chair out and politely (I swear) asked them to please move into the office, since it was difficult for me to concentrate. This is the look that I got from my boss:

photo via animalsthatwanttokillyou.com

Nice, right? I am pretty sure that if I had been able to take a picture with my eyeballs (it'll be fun when that can happen) and then upload it to this blog post, it would look similar to the dinosaur. Frikkin' laserbeams.

Finally, OMG, WILL THIS WORKDAY NEVER END?!?

love, molly

previous post title source: "Shanty (aka The Friday Song)," Jonathan Edwards. This is the song that the local classic rock station (that would be 105.9, The Rock) plays at 5 p.m. on Fridays. It's no "Friday Freebird," but it's a fun tune nonetheless. With lyrics like "We're gonna lay around the shanty, mama, and put a good buzz on," I imagine that if you heard it you would picture Todd singing it. I always do.

We'll take time out to smile a little before we let it go

Dear Megan,

Good gravy, it has been a long week. I learned an important lesson: When the week starts out in jury duty, you may as well pack it in.

We went down to Atlanta last weekend, after Ella kicked ass all over the soccer field (and against my archenemy [in my head], to boot). It is so fun to watch her! She just seems to really love to play soccer. It is such a treat to watch her enjoy something and succeed at it.

We went to Atlanta because Claire was the star in her high school's performance of "Radium Girls." (It's an uplifting tale about the women who worked in a watch factory and died of radium poisoning.) We got to see the Funbar and everything. Claire received rave reviews on her performance--I am so proud of her! I had to miss the show, unfortunately, because Luke was in no mood to sit still; I chased him around the high school for two and a half hours. Good times.

There was a moment there before the start of the show when I actually showed some restraint and bit my tongue rather than speaking ill of someone's outfit (a shock, I know)--and it was a good thing, too, as that someone turned out to be Kevin's ex-wife. She walked in wearing tight jean capri pants and stilletto heels (I mean, come on!). I felt like a bit of a frump in my velvet-ish dress that extended to my ankles (not to mention the fact that I forgot my regular shoes and had to wear my New Balances). But seriously, the stillettos were a bit much.

Sunday, we drove around a lot. It was just like old times. We eventually settled upon visiting the Fernbank Science Center, to which we had free admission thanks to our membership at the Nashville's Adventure Science Center (formerly Cumberland Science Museum). Since Fernbank offers reciprocal admission for members of the ASC, we were thinking Fernbank would be equally as awesome as the ASC. We were wrong. It was a total bore! Seriously, the most exciting part of the museum (other than the admittedly pretty cool bee exhibit) was the display of compost piles. Adventure Science Center pretty much gets screwed on the reciprocal admission stuff. It ain't right.

After we got out of that bore-fest, we decided to go to the NEW World of Coca-Cola, but got sidetracked once we found the Atlanta Children's Museum. (Still not as cool as Adventure Science. . . .) It's probably for the best, too. I'd hate to have seen the NEW World of Coca-Cola and have the reality not live up to how I picture it in my mind: as an all-Coke themed version of Epcot Center's Spaceship Earth (the big golf ball). Stuff like robots talking about how Coke fuels the future.



All in all, it was a fun trip.

Monday was my day to report for jury duty. Holy moley. I actually got called in the first group, but I was one of the last people called. Basically, I just sat in the courtroom all day long watching them ask about thirty people questions to determine whether they would be good jurors. It was interesting, I'll give them that. But it was SO LONG. We did get a free lunch, though, so that was awesome.

The case was a tough one, and I am glad that I wasn't seated on it. It had to do with child abuse and by the sound of it the case was going to go on for a while. The best part of it was that the judge looked like Dr. Drew

photo via about.com

the defense attorney looked like Brett

Brett is the one on the left.

and the bailiff looked like Toby Keith

photo via gactv.com

So, basically, I spent the day imagining how things would go if those people were actually involved in the proceedings. Like, when the defense attorney asked this one ornery old dude if he agreed that it is the State's responsibility to prove guilt beyond a reasonable doubt and the old dude responded, "Basically," I imagined that Brett would gone sort of apoplectic in that charming manner of his. And then he would have appealed to the judge, and Dr. Drew would have been all Dr. Drew. (I don't really know how that is anymore. Loveline seems like so long ago!) Finally, Dr. Drew would have gotten fed up with the old guy's orneriness and would have had Toby Keith intervene, at which point Toby Keith would have threatened the old guy with the "boot in your ass" (it is the American way, after all).

It was also fun to play "Yeah, that guy's outta here." Like when that same ornery old dude told the defense attorney, "I'm not here to answer your questions," that was a pretty easy one. Yeah, that guy was so outta there.

I had to return to work on Tuesday. I have to give work this: as bad as it is, it's still not as bad as listening to the details of a child abuse case. So, I've got that going for me.

Anywhos, you're in Honduras now. I hope you're having fun!

love, molly

previous post title source: "White Rabbit," Jefferson Airplane