Asparagus pee, Gooblek & Other Neat stuff
Time to take this bull by the horns and milk it.
The Lady Janet bought this great old childrens’ book from 1957 called A Hole is to Dig by Ruth Krauss, who also wrote The Carrot Seed, with illustrations by Maurice Sendak. (You could do worse for an illustrator.)
It has these wonderful “operational” definitions, mostly by Kindergarteners, like “A face is so you can make faces,” or “Toes are to wiggle.” Here is a quote from this wonderful book:
“A tablespoon is to eat a table with.”
So here’s what may well be the saddest story in the history of rock and roll. (Well, OK, not like that time when the plane went down with Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, and the Big Bopper, but you know…)
When I heard that Paul McCartney was going to play here in Sacramento at Arco Arena, I thought, “Well, I missed the big tour ten years ago and I was just too cheap and lazy to fly to L.A., but this guy could up and die on me, and then I’d die without ever seeing a Beatle!”
So, I hear that Sir Paul’s coming in November, but I hear this in, like, February, and the tickets go on sale at the end of April. Naturally, I forget to be there at midnight on whatever night that was, but I see a news article the next day that they were selling tickets, so I go online and pay double the face value for some Ticketmaster™ tickets that somebody else snagged. Fair enough, I snoozed and lost, cost of doing business, whatever, but suffice it to say that it was a decision that required a major financial discussion — we even kidded about putting them in our safe deposit box.
Fast forward six months. The Lady Janet and I had moved into our new house on November 10th, and the concert was on the 16th.
So I come home and The Lady Janet says, “You’ve got the tickets, right?” and I say, “You’re kidding, right?” and that was officially the end of the world as we know it. See, the tickets were eventually found in a box in Emily’s toy closet, but the night of the concert we tore the whole house apart (with help from my parents) and drove down with no tickets and just threw ourselves on the mercy of the Ticketmaster™ lady, who couldn’t give us our tickets, but she could sell us more tickets for $50 each to sit in the top row, directly behind the stage.
So, bottom line, we saw Paul, and HE ROCKED!, but we had lousy seats and it sounded terrible, and we were so bummed about losing our really good tickets that we cried.
Now, having said that, did I mention that HE ROCKED! — I’m telling you, that old boy never took a break, he never took a drink, he just switched back and forth between piano and guitar, he was kind to other Beatles past and present, and performed his arse off for over 3 hours.
I’d recommend seeing him any time you get the chance, and after all, it’s only $50!
If you’re an APG&ONS fan, thanks for sticking by me. I haven’t blogged for a little over three months, because we moved to a new house, with a cool inground pool and this really neat stained glass window. The new place also has a tree swing for Emily — and if you look really closely, you might notice that I have a special splint on my left foot — I broke it about 4 days before the big move.
Here’s a picture of Emily with a lizard.
If I were blogging, I’d say something like click on that image of the two hair ads — it looks to me like if you have curly hair, you need to straighten it; if you have straight hair, you need to curl it; and whatever color your hair happens to be, it shouldn’t be, so do something that appears to be really painful, judging from the picture on the box.
