Yesterday, one of my favorite clients, who is roughly my age, was telling me that he couldn’t schedule our next conference call for Friday because it conflicted with his guitar lesson which is sacrosanct. I shared that my hubby played lead guitar in a bunch of bands and asked him if he, too, had guitars and amps in his living room (i.e., not bearing the Martha Stewart seal of approval). Nope, he built an entire studio/band pit in his basement, complete with drum set, so no one would have to lug gear to his house in order to jam. Must be nice, huh!
Client: I bet your husband and I would get along great.
Me: What kind of music do you play?
Client: My son plays in an alternative band but I think our band is leaning toward Christian rock.
Me: Christian rock? Yeah, you haven’t met my husband. I don’t think he and you would get along that famously . . .
Client: Well, I also play a lot of Rush, Led Zeppelin, The Stones and The Who.
Game, set, no match.
On a related note, this song never gets old. Never.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Labatt Blue and I Love Beer
If I were in marketing for Labatt Blue, I would be tempted to leverage the I ♥ NY and JetBlue design collaboration and co-opt it for my own. A little something like this perhaps but with their proper font, of course.
I see a future promotional job for Anita Bryant in the works.
Anything to take a bit of the wind from JetBlew's sails, eh, especially when it wasn't so long ago that they were threatening to move their headquarters to Florida. Fair weather (aka NYS incentive) friends claiming one of our finest cities for their own? I won't let them get away with this. (Insert shaking fist.)
Let 'em move, I say. Then JetBlue can form an iconic partnership with Florida tourism. Oh, I know: "Flying with JetBlue is like three days without sunshine."
I see a future promotional job for Anita Bryant in the works.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Cool for Cats
Son #2: Mom, can I take a bath with Tiger?
Me: No. Cats don't take baths.
Son #2 (with thumbs pointing at his chest): This cat does.
Me: No. Cats don't take baths.
Son #2 (with thumbs pointing at his chest): This cat does.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Kodachrome
Whenever I am at Son #2's Little League games, I feel a little nostalgic. It reminds me of going to see my brothers play on the same field, the Bob Ford Field, over 40 years ago. Looking at the kids on the diamond wearing their uniforms and baseball caps, the scene is roughly unchanged. A sunny, cloudless sky. A pristine slice of Americana enhanced only by Son #2's pitching which makes my heart swell.
Last weekend, I walked to the field at the elementary school with the boys and our next door neighbors to launch model rockets. Again, I was reminded of doing the same thing 40 years ago with my brother Markie and our next door neighbor Dave. They made what looked (and smelled) like the same exact rockets and launched them on the hill across the street at the high school. Gauging the wind. Watching as they soar into the sky and their parachutes deploy. Running to where they've landed.
In today's world of cell phones, iPods and video games, so many of the basic elements of life are wrapped in an eerily familiar lining. Riding bikes. Playing basketball. Hanging in the fort. Just being kids.
I just hope that I am a good mom to them. That our house is a sanctuary from the crazy world. That their childhoods are relatively carefree. That they grow up knowing how deeply they're loved. That they develop strong self-esteem and compassion for others. That they remain safe, healthy and happy. That they surround themselves with friends who will encourage one another to be the best they can be. That they make solid decisions. That they lead productive lives with integrity. Little things . . .
The other night, at my mom's suggestion, we were all watching The Big Bang Theory. Toward the end of the episode, Son #2 turned to me and said, "These guys are boring. The dialog in our house is funnier than this." And with that little compliment, I felt that (at least for now) we were on the right track.
Last weekend, I walked to the field at the elementary school with the boys and our next door neighbors to launch model rockets. Again, I was reminded of doing the same thing 40 years ago with my brother Markie and our next door neighbor Dave. They made what looked (and smelled) like the same exact rockets and launched them on the hill across the street at the high school. Gauging the wind. Watching as they soar into the sky and their parachutes deploy. Running to where they've landed.
In today's world of cell phones, iPods and video games, so many of the basic elements of life are wrapped in an eerily familiar lining. Riding bikes. Playing basketball. Hanging in the fort. Just being kids.
I just hope that I am a good mom to them. That our house is a sanctuary from the crazy world. That their childhoods are relatively carefree. That they grow up knowing how deeply they're loved. That they develop strong self-esteem and compassion for others. That they remain safe, healthy and happy. That they surround themselves with friends who will encourage one another to be the best they can be. That they make solid decisions. That they lead productive lives with integrity. Little things . . .
The other night, at my mom's suggestion, we were all watching The Big Bang Theory. Toward the end of the episode, Son #2 turned to me and said, "These guys are boring. The dialog in our house is funnier than this." And with that little compliment, I felt that (at least for now) we were on the right track.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Minding My Business
Not that this is noteworthy in any way but today is a professional, client-facing, black dress kind of a day. With me-facing bright pink bra and undies.
Sometimes it's the little things, that no one else can see, that make me happy.
Sometimes it's the little things, that no one else can see, that make me happy.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Take Me Down to the Infirmary
The scene inside my car at the tail end of a 6.5 hour journey with small boys and only Cracker to soothe my soul.
Take me down
“Give him back to me”
To the infirmary
“Mom, he stole monkey”
Lay me down
“OUCH”
On cotton sheets
“What is going on back there?”
Put a damp cloth
“He hit me in the head”
On my forehead
“Why are you hitting your brother?”
Lay me down
“Because he just BIT me”
And let me sleep
“I'm going to pull over and bite both of you if this continues”
I know the whiskey, it won't soothe my soul
And the morphine won't heal my heart
But if you take me down to the infirmary, oh yeah
I won't have to sleep or drink alone.
Take me down
“Give him back to me”
To the infirmary
“Mom, he stole monkey”
Lay me down
“OUCH”
On cotton sheets
“What is going on back there?”
Put a damp cloth
“He hit me in the head”
On my forehead
“Why are you hitting your brother?”
Lay me down
“Because he just BIT me”
And let me sleep
“I'm going to pull over and bite both of you if this continues”
I know the whiskey, it won't soothe my soul
And the morphine won't heal my heart
But if you take me down to the infirmary, oh yeah
I won't have to sleep or drink alone.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Bon Appétit (aka Eat Fest 2010)
Note: The following blog was stolen, er plagerized, er modified from the April 2010 edition of Bon Appétit.
WHO
Friends from Syracuse University
WHERE
Hartland, VT
PARTY PHILOSOPHY
“When we're at the house, we entertain outside as much as we can—even if it’s just a picnic on a quilt.” (Bon Appétit version)
“When we're at the house, we entertain outside as much as we can—even if it’s watching a Star Wars movie projected onto a bed sheet.” (Alternate version)
Dinner for seven
Fresh Gazpacho
Champagne
Grilled Salmon with a Blackberry Buerre Sauce
Locally Grown Corn on the Cob
Beet Salad with Red, White and Orange Carrots
Almond Cake with Homemade Mint Gelato
There are certain things you can expect from a Labor Day weekend at the Craib’s place overlooking Mount Ascutney. You can look forward to tasting Vermont cheese at the farmer’s market, foraging for wild berries in the grasses beside the house, playing a round of afternoon croquet, watching Alistair dance to the White Stripes, and sharing great big dinners.
Just don't ask for chicken nuggets.
“This part of Vermont isn't really chicken nugget country,” says Bill. The open-air house with a large, dine-on porch the couple purchased just outside the little town of Hartland is perched on a hillside in the middle of the woods. And on Labor Day, they’re sticklers for Elizabeth’s (aka Lovely’s) long-held tradition of homemade ice cream sandwiches made from fresh baked cookies (using only the finest Ann Clark cookie cutters) and handcrafted vanilla ice cream. “You can't mess with beauty,” she says as she measures the sugar and puts the chocolate cookie dough in the oven. Especially, one could add, when you're literally surrounded by it. (Nod to the panoramic view and Melissa prancing around in her cute little buttoned undies.)
The view from the front porch hasn't changed a whole lot in the two years since the family first settled this spot. A stone’s throw from the front porch, just over the childproof gate and past a thicket of bushes, there’s a pasture that’s home to the beloved wiffleball field. Beyond that, gently rolling hills, dotted with leaves just beginning to turn yellow, are tucked below the lone Mount Ascutney.
The SU weekend is a traditional, informal affair for the Craib family and their gang of miscreants. Relaxed and not stuffy (but somewhat contentious during a highly competitive game of Apples to Apples – yes, Carnival Workers can be virtuous and yes, Tom Hanks does suck). It’s a gorgeous day, so they decide to have dinner on the porch. “Whenever we can, we'll eat all three meals outside,” says Elizabeth. The candles are lit on the chandelier above the old farm table along with the tea lights that surround the porch. She sets the table with her family china, along with artisanal wine glasses that she found at a local glass blower. When friends arrive, Elizabeth sends all the kids on a wild berry hunt while the grown-ups are greeted with glasses of champagne.
Elizabeth and Bill, who are both entrepreneurs/business executives, have a well-honed system for collaborating on special menus. And because the inveterate hosts love to cook, they can't help mixing things up just a bit. Today, elk bratwurst with ale from the local Harpoon brewery add a note of novelty to the table alongside classic holiday dishes.
Thanks to the Craib family for hosting such a fabulous weekend. Wejushluvya.
WHO
Friends from Syracuse University
WHERE
Hartland, VT
PARTY PHILOSOPHY
“When we're at the house, we entertain outside as much as we can—even if it’s just a picnic on a quilt.” (Bon Appétit version)
“When we're at the house, we entertain outside as much as we can—even if it’s watching a Star Wars movie projected onto a bed sheet.” (Alternate version)
Dinner for seven
Fresh Gazpacho
Champagne
Grilled Salmon with a Blackberry Buerre Sauce
Locally Grown Corn on the Cob
Beet Salad with Red, White and Orange Carrots
Almond Cake with Homemade Mint Gelato
There are certain things you can expect from a Labor Day weekend at the Craib’s place overlooking Mount Ascutney. You can look forward to tasting Vermont cheese at the farmer’s market, foraging for wild berries in the grasses beside the house, playing a round of afternoon croquet, watching Alistair dance to the White Stripes, and sharing great big dinners.
Just don't ask for chicken nuggets.
“This part of Vermont isn't really chicken nugget country,” says Bill. The open-air house with a large, dine-on porch the couple purchased just outside the little town of Hartland is perched on a hillside in the middle of the woods. And on Labor Day, they’re sticklers for Elizabeth’s (aka Lovely’s) long-held tradition of homemade ice cream sandwiches made from fresh baked cookies (using only the finest Ann Clark cookie cutters) and handcrafted vanilla ice cream. “You can't mess with beauty,” she says as she measures the sugar and puts the chocolate cookie dough in the oven. Especially, one could add, when you're literally surrounded by it. (Nod to the panoramic view and Melissa prancing around in her cute little buttoned undies.)
The view from the front porch hasn't changed a whole lot in the two years since the family first settled this spot. A stone’s throw from the front porch, just over the childproof gate and past a thicket of bushes, there’s a pasture that’s home to the beloved wiffleball field. Beyond that, gently rolling hills, dotted with leaves just beginning to turn yellow, are tucked below the lone Mount Ascutney.
The SU weekend is a traditional, informal affair for the Craib family and their gang of miscreants. Relaxed and not stuffy (but somewhat contentious during a highly competitive game of Apples to Apples – yes, Carnival Workers can be virtuous and yes, Tom Hanks does suck). It’s a gorgeous day, so they decide to have dinner on the porch. “Whenever we can, we'll eat all three meals outside,” says Elizabeth. The candles are lit on the chandelier above the old farm table along with the tea lights that surround the porch. She sets the table with her family china, along with artisanal wine glasses that she found at a local glass blower. When friends arrive, Elizabeth sends all the kids on a wild berry hunt while the grown-ups are greeted with glasses of champagne.
Elizabeth and Bill, who are both entrepreneurs/business executives, have a well-honed system for collaborating on special menus. And because the inveterate hosts love to cook, they can't help mixing things up just a bit. Today, elk bratwurst with ale from the local Harpoon brewery add a note of novelty to the table alongside classic holiday dishes.
Thanks to the Craib family for hosting such a fabulous weekend. Wejushluvya.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Things That Make Me Happy
- A CD player in my car!
- Facilitating a meeting in my client's conference room while F-16s tear up the sky right outside our windows in preparation for an airshow at the Rocky Mountain Metropolitan Airport. Intense. And, um, really hard to hear.
- Spending a sunny afternoon walking around Boulder, having Chai tea at the Boulder Tea House, dipping my toes in the Boulder River and having dinner with my beautiful girlfriend Patricia and her husband Bruce: two of the nicest people on earth.
- Enjoying a relaxing, sunshine-filled weekend in Westhampton Beach with my girlfriend Laura and her mom. Mai tais and lobster rolls by the beach. Margaritas overlooking the salt marsh, swan and setting sun. A cucumber gimlet at dinner. Swimming in the pool. Hanging at the beach. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh.
- Running into a very pregnant Deirdre at the bakery early on Friday morning and spending the day with her, her husband, nanny and baby Fraser at the beach and pool. Great to catch up after a random, serendipitous sighting.
- Hustling into the city on Saturday night for a fabulous meal at Twisted Vine with my girlfriend Kim from DC. Prosecco. Wine. Oysters. Olives. Octopus. Delicious.
- Spending a leisurely Sunday morning shoe shopping and trying on hats at the 77th street flea market before getting stuck on the LIE and almost missing my flight.
- Eight. Eight. I forget what eight is for.
- Meeting my ex-coworkers for rumritas on the beach at Marge's Lakeside Inn after work on Tuesday. 90 degrees at 6:00 p.m. Holy moly batman, we're not in the Hamptons anymore! Tons of bikini clad yahoos in cigarette boats anchored offshore -- partying. As dusk approached, they all motored away and the beach got quieter. A large, red harvest moon set over the lake. I got a drink in my hand, I got my toes in the sand . . .
- Going to the playground last night with my kids who are getting too old for playgrounds. Climbing the rock wall. Swinging on the swing set. And rolling down the hill in a race against Son #2. I didn't quite remember how dizzy that can make you. I could barely walk straight when we reached the basketball courts.
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