Monday, April 11, 2011

Pour some sugar on me.

The sound of Fox News on a continual loop blaring bias propaganda throughout my house can only mean one in-laws are in town! They made the bi- annual trip up from Florida to visit. This occasion was Oscar's first birthday. My birthday was completely forgotten by my mother in law and I knew it had slipped her mind by the horrified expression on her face when Don wished me a happy birthday in the morning..
When they are in town my husband seems to revert back to a 12-year-old boy.  One particular incident was when I was changing a code brown diaper as Oscar was trying to twist his way off the table, when I realized that we (he) had used the last diaper and not replenished them.  As I called to him in desperation holding a baby down with my torso, he did not answer. I can hear him in the other room. Then I realized that when his father is talking, mostly about his dislike of the current state of the government, my husband is at complete attention and nothing can penetrate his ear. As I struggled to keep from getting peed on, I managed to get a diaper.  In Don's defense, his dad has an authoritative presence, probably because he was a career military colonel. So in my stupidity, I thought I could break Don's trance..  His dad doesn't intimidate me, his hair on the other hand...
My mother in law is a sweet little woman who keeps tissues up her sleeve and was raised in Massachusetts.. Because she is from Boston, she has a very thick accent that makes in impossible for her to say two of our son's names correctly. Parker is Pakah and Oscar is Oscah.  I guess those accents stay with you forever. 
The last visit she came down with a stomach "bug", this was 4 weeks after I had a baby, had a sick 6 yr old and the weather was horrible. I have tried to block that out of my mind. We bought some
Pepto-Bismol and ever since Jack associates that with Grammie.  This time Pop pop came down with a similar stomach "bug".  Apparently onions wreck havoc on his stomach. That is why I didn't mention that I may or may not have added onion powder to hamburgers I made the previous night..  Regardless, I lawfully love them and they adore the boys. So much so that they are able to find traits of themselves or their parents in each and every one of them.  Finegan has her father's music ability, Jack has Pop pops determination (at 3).  Do I dare mention that they may be individuals with their very own traits?
Previous to them scheduling their visit, a friend of mine had purchased tickets to a Bret Michaels concert.  I have a little bit of a fetish with Bret Michaels. Granted, it was their last night in town, but hey, I didn't schedule the Bret Michaels Band tour schedule. I did find it reasurring that, they ordered pizza, (naturally, I was gone.)
I met my friend at a restaurant and she had brought along other Bret die hards, the only difference is, is that they loved him in Poison and my fascination began with the Rock of Love (a vh1 original reality show, which by the way was their top rated show of all time). I was pregnant and watched it from beginning to end. Maybe it was the moose tracks ice cream that I ate when watching it, or the raging hormones of pregnancy, but Bret poured his sugar on me. Apparently this feeling is also shared by several other Midwestern women. In fact, an entire smorgasbord of them. I thought that arriving in a minivan to a "rock concert" was cramping my style, but that couldn't touch the faux pas I witnessed . The person who runs the airbrush t-shirt shop must have been very busy that week. We were packed in a nightclub, which temperature must have reached 95 degrees. I was ok with this because of the massive amount of chips and salsa I had consumed. In fact, in the 4 hours I was there, I didn't need to use the bathroom once, (thanks to my sodium intake) which may be a record for me.  The minority of fan's there were in their 20's and the majority were in the 45+ range. That didn't stop them from dressing like they did when they were in their 20's.  We had vintage Bret shirts, Tiny tops,  Bret tattoos (the real kind), cowboy hats with mom jeans, and of course, bandannas.  Apparently I didn't get the memo but Bret must be a boob man.  I came to this conclusion after the copious amount of breasts I saw there. I haven't seen that many naked boobs since I was in a high school locker room, and at least then there was some modestly. Quite the opposite here. Women flashing him, as if he was going to throw beads at them.  Hopefully after the show they can retrieve the bras and underwear they threw at him.  I considered joining the bandwagon but didn't think a  smart nude Bali support bra would be as titillating as a red one, plus I paid a lot of money and its just right fit.
By the time he arrived on stage (2 hours after his scheduled time, thanks to a surprise opening "band") he was very professional, well as professional as a rock musician can be. He said it was his 12th show in 12 days, and he put on quite a performance and left us hungry for more. Except for the fact that I left early...I have lunches to pack, uniforms to iron (ok, lay out) and for the love of God..SLEEP!
 Gone are my old Lollapalooza and Indigo Girl (yes Indigo girls) days, I have matured, but so have concerts.  Back in my day, video recording was discouraged (probably because of the weight of the camera) Today its encourages with cell phones, and as a result, I think it forces performers to bring their A game. There is no better promotion that viral YouTube video.
Part of my job requires me to attend several recitals and concerts but if its possible, it appeared that Bret Michaels was less of a Liberace then most of the performers I encounter. I did not see him wearing a scarf to protect his instrument or downing herbal tea. As he was singing Talk dirty to me, I couldn't help but think of the band members wives, or kids and how they must miss them, and how trust must be a major issue. He is just a guy, but these girls would have done just about anything to ride his tour bus.  I feel compelled to write a thank you note, but even I know how lame that is.
I returned home to find my in-laws waiting and anxious to hear how my "rock concert" went.  I'm glad I was able to add a little bit of outlaw flavor to my mommy white bread persona. I needed a few out-laws to counter balance the in-laws.

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