"The Stadium is Worse Than Bonkers!"

This is kind of a sad day for me as a Bulldog fan. Tonight is the first game in my lifetime that won't be called by Larry Munson.

This article is a good overview of his career, and includes some of his greatest calls. My first recollection of Larry calling a game was about 1984. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was twelve years old and it was a cold and rainy day in Georgia. I played soccer on Saturdays at the Roswell soccer fields. By high school, we would call these fields and their parking, just off the high school campus, "The Water Tower." As in, "meet me at the Water Tower," or the more exciting, "Fight at the Water Tower after school today." Good times. I think we were waiting for my game to begin, sitting in the warmth and dryness of mom's red station wagon. I'm not sure if Lisa was there, and I have no idea where Dad was, but Mom and I listened intently to Larry's voice on the radio as the cold rain poured down.

"So we'll try to kick one a hundred thousand miles. We're holding it on our own 49-and-a-half ... gonna try to kick it sixty yards plus a foot-and-a-half ... and Butler kicked a long one ... a long one ... Oh my God! Oh my God! ... The stadium is worse than bonkers!" - calling Kevin Butler's field goal in the final seconds to win over Clemson in 1984"

You would have to know my mom to have any idea of the response this elicited from her; Words cannot do it justice.

I know a man needs to settle down, but Larry will be missed.

This is Ironic

So, I am almost 36 and I still feel like I am 26, maybe even 16 on a good day. I still think of myself and my friends, even the ones pushing 40, as "us kids" and the parents, teachers, etc. as "them." "The old people." "The man." Whatever.

When my friend Tara was made "Room Mother" for her son's class, I laughed. It was an evil laugh.

So, it is with much dismay that I find myself in the position of a pending nomination to a position on the board of the PTFuckingA at my son's preschool.

I am not kidding people. Anyone who knows me can vouch for this: This is the sign of the Apocalypse.

Haunting

The New York Times contains an article today about photographs donated to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. The photos seem benign enough; they look pretty much like the photographs in my Grandfather's albums from the 30s and 40s, pictures like the one below, pictures of him and his family and friends frolicking.

The photos are so similar in appearance, but yet so different: The photos are pictures of Nazis at Aushchwitz prior to the liberation of the concentration camps. There are pictures of soldiers and nurses relaxing in lounge chairs, listening to music and singing along to someone playing an accordion, and eating blueberries. There is even a picture of a group of them, and one woman is holding a baby lovingly.

The horror of the photographs to me is not the unspoken subtext of torture and death that took place on the same day and in the same location these photos were taken. The haunting and horrific facet of the photos is that these are not the faces of evil I imagined. These people look so normal, so happy, so carefree, and so similar to you and me.

Let's Put This Into Perspective

To think that not that many years ago, women regularly wondered where their next meal would come from, as they waded down towards the river to wash their clothes by hand. They knew that after a long day, they were expected to service their husbands. They were in constant fear that their beloved family members were going to die from some terrible disease for which there was no cure, no antibiotic.

I am sitting around today worrying about my slow internet, the fact that I didn't get a chance to write once last week, and that I couldn't fit my long run in this weekend, so I ended up doing it today. I was kind of disappointed that I only finished 7.5 miles in the time between dropping off and picking up my son from preschool, when I wanted to finish 9.5 miles.

Life is hard. Real hard.

The Strut

That's the name of the festival in my neighborhood. I miss the days when we lived within walking distance of the village, where we could come and go throughout the day, drink as we please, and not worry about it. I also miss my nanny. Oh, wait. We've never had a nanny.

Todd and I woke up at 6 a.m., in time to grab a snack and a coffee, get the kids going, and break up a cat and dog fight, before leaving for the 5k. We thought we were running late, and we were so early that they gave us numbers 10 and 11 - Gotta love my slacker neighborhood. It was nice to be in a small race, with neighbors and people I know. It was Todd's first race, and we were both pleased with the weather, and the fact that we both beat the Dachsund running the race. It's the small things. Also, the shirt is the coolest!

I wasn't happy that we had to head over to Grant Park to get brunch, but we hit Ria's for a brunch without kids. Awesome. Love me some kid-free meals.

Afterwards, we headed back home to start the grill, put on the beans and hit the showers. My sister and Mom were around after watching the kids for the morning. (Best sister EVER for coming over at 6:15 a.m. to watch the kids.) Matt, Ned, Nessie, and Scarlett showed up, and we started the margaritas at about noon, then watched the Auburn game. (Yikes.) I listened to Larry on the radio while the kids ran around. Afterwards, mom and Lisa went home and we all went up to check out the Strut. I got an supercool, ultra cheap creepy shrinkydink necklace for 3$! And a handmade bib for my niece Luci. V. pretty.

Amazingly, i had two margaritas and one beer all day until after bringing the kids home and putting them to bed (they were pooped.) I'll be honest. I could have really tied one on. But these days, I am more likely to drive my kids safely around (okay, except for the mailman roadie incident!) and then pound some beers on the couch.

I know. Totally glamorous.

Seriously. It was a good day.

Back to School

I cannot believe that I dropped off my little Tiller for her first day of school today. Okay, not real school, but the Mommies' Morning Out program. She goes Tuesdays and Thursdays for three whole hours. She was so excited to put on her big girl backpack. Keep your traps shut about the fact that it is Rollie's hand-me-down backpack; He got a brand spanking new Diego backpack for his birthday, and it just seemed ludicrous to throw the old one out, so I just crossed out his name and put hers on the backpack. I also drew her a nifty flower to girl it up a little. Then I felt guilty for not drawing anything on Rollie's backpack, so I drew him a car. Two more fun things about being a Mom - 1) You can guilt yourself about just about anything where your kids are concerned and 2) You will need a Sharpie. Often.

Both kids got out of the van, with Todd's help. He followed us over to school for her first day, since we did it last year for Rollie's first day. Yes, Todd is the best Daddy ever. They were so cute, with backpacks and raring to go. They humored me while we took some pictures to commemorate the big event. Rollie was cracking me up, saying hello to the Pastor and to his friends from last year. We took him to his classroom first. He went right in, found his hook, hung up his backpack, and started playing. He said, "Hey guys!" when he walked in the room. Tiller followed him in at a run, with her backpack too big for her body, and mimicked big brother with a very cute, "Hey, guys!" to the big kids in Rollie's class. Luckily, she was not upset when we put her in the room with kids her own age.

We walked her down to the room, and the door was shut. She went right in, starting to play before we could get her backpack off her. We showed her where her hook was and hung up her backpack, because she wasn't able to reach the hook yet. She went right back to playing with cars. Todd and I said bye-bye, and slipped out. No tears, not even a glance.

Then I went to meet Lisa for coffee and unadulterated adult conversation (can adult conversation be unadulterated?) for over two whole straight hours. It was good. Really, really good.