Jason Castro = Magic

I'm too busy to be as big a fan of Jason Castro as I am. But, dog-gone-it, I can't help it! He has had a great fanbase since emerging unknown from the American Idol auditions. We've weathered a LOT of naysayers and kept the faith all this time. Slowly people have started coming on board or at least confessing they were fans all along. I love it when that happens. MTV, who has been with me from my formative years is proving to be among the faithful. Now the lovely ladies of The View are in agreement that they love Jason. Now that's saying something!

Vote for change, America!

Tree Hugger

All of my neighbors have OCD. They are all so busy, busy, busy with their projects around their houses. Pride of home ownership is a great thing and we, the neighbors are certainly gaining the benefit of the hard work, no doubt. Maybe when my kiddos are grown I will be busy, too. For now I'm just trying to keep the old plates spinning. My neighbors to the north have a beautiful house that sits above us on a hill. They have four very full linden trees leading off from their property to two more on the green belt that then connect with our trees. It's a spot kids come to to have their senior and prom photos taken. It's very picturesque and, who doesn't love big, happy, healthy trees? My neighbor, that's who. Yesterday, as we were outside playing with our kids and not doing house projects, a truck with a cherry picker, a wood chipper and four workers showed up and unceremoniously cut the neighbor's linden trees to the ground. My kids cried and I was freaking out. I caught the neighbor on her way off somewhere and asked if the trees were sick and should we be concerned about our trees? No, no, we just decided to do something different. We just don't like how big those trees were getting (20 ft.) and we want to move our oak tree to that spot and add a few aspen. Okay, the oak tree will soon be a goner, so count that among the dead. As for the aspen, I reminded her of the several aspen we put in just five years ago that were now taller than our house. She blanched. Really? It was only five years ago? Six, max. Oh! And we cannot forget, this is the same neighbor who was unhappy with a tree on the greenbelt to the west blocking his view so he crept out in the dark of night (this is a well known "funny" story we tell at neighborhood gatherings) shimmied up the tree and hacked down the offending branches. His view was saved! The 30 ft. tree was toast and the city had to come and take it down not long after. Of course, he never confessed. Next week he is painting his house again for the third time in 5 years and I plan to sit on my deck with a cool drink and watch. And probably take a nap.

Take a page from Oprah

Things are really bothering me and I just have to share:

Magazines with sporadic pagination. Pagination is a nifty little word that I may have just made up, but it works perfectly. If this liberal word usage bothers you, you are free to write about it in your own blog. I wouldn't blame you. Why bother telling readers what page a story is on if the page numbers are absent? It's a mystery! A treasure hunt! W, I'm talking to you. Also, let's not leave out the ability to find the table of contents. W, it's you again. Take a lesson from Oprah. Her Table is on the second page, right where you want it to be. And, it isn't split into several pages scattered throughout the mag. It's a Table of Contents and it belongs at the beginning. Any second grader could tell you that.

Email has no tone. Why is that? It has caused frequent problems in my life. As much as I dislike emoticons, there are times when I want to be sure the person I'm writing to knows I really mean, "Good job the other day". No really. Good job. No, I'm not being sarcastic. I really, really thought you did a good job. :) When I read what I've written, I read it in my voice with my inflections and I can't imagine someone could take my comments the wrong way. Well, they do. All the time.

And to you, person whose "for sale" house I have toured. Do you really, really want to sell your house? Then don't ask me, in a note that has no tone, to take off my shoes! Really? I take this as a precursor to how difficult you will be to work with should this sale proceed, which it probably won't. In one afternoon I toured 7 houses, 5 of which asked me to remove my shoes or put on those slippery hospital booties. I gave up and decided my own house was perfect, shoes and all.

The Trouble With Karma

I was informed last night, of a prank played on Eva Longoria at a recent basketball game. Some high school boys happened to be seated not far from where Eva sat to watch her husband, Tony Parker play. Completely twitterpated and desperate to impress, they paraded past her with a sign reading,

"I won't cheat on you, Eva",

referring to recent claims that Tony had an affair in France shortly after his wedding to Eva. Eva said nothing but gave the boys a deservedly evil glare. When I heard this story, I couldn't help but go back a few short years to the time Eva chose to don an

"I'll Have Your Baby, Brad" tee shirt,

http://www.tshirtwatch.com/fashion/art/eva-longoria-baby-brad.jpg

an act for which she later (If I recall correctly) felt great remorse for the potential hurt she may have caused Jennifer Aniston. I wonder if the infallible ways of karma crossed Eva's mind as she sat at that game.

Attention Alanis Morrisette: that's ironic.

1974

Growing up in NW Montana, Christmas break was spent mostly indoors. I watched a lot of TV. One thing I loved doing in those days was watch game shows on New Years Eve day to see how each show celebrated the New Year. My favorite was "Match Game" because it had the year in the name. The entire Match Game marquee would float down at the end of the show, and amid flashing lights and confetti, the new Match Game sign would rise: Match Game '75! New Years Eve was spent camped out in my parent's room, me on my Mom's bed, big brother on Dad's (yes, separate beds, just like Pillow Talk) and watch Dick Clark. 1974 was a big year for me. That was the year of the World's Fair in Spokane, WA. Also, there must have been an Olympics because I remember seeing Nadia Comeneche on TV advertising the World's Fair. Spokane was, to me, the big city. My Grandma would take the train to Spokane for shopping trips to the Bon Marche', it was big. I've inherited all of my Grandma's gloves and she had a million pair. I always get sentimental this time of year. My grandparents lived next door and whenever they would go out of town (shopping in Spokane) I would spend days over there by myself, sit in my Grandma's chair, control the TV, eat her candy and make calls on her groovy phone. My Grandma had long, manicured fingernails and used a special pen with a ball on one end for dialing her telephone. She also smoked Salem menthol cigarettes, which I also sampled. Grandmas always like the weirdest things, like those pepto bismol pink lozenges. Actually, I loved them, but the Uno Bars were disgusting. I used to beg to stay overnight at Grandma's, and then get crazy homesick the minute the lights went out and she would have to walk me to the back porch where my Mom (right next door) would meet me. Grandma was such a badass, she would arm herself with a giant pepper mill and you'd better believe she'd knock out any kooks who crossed her path. I miss you, Mommy Jane!

Taking Back Christmas

I've always had a hard time with national holidays, and especially Christmas. I just don't like the feeling that we're all doing the same thing at the same time. It diffuses the day for me. I have tried, over time, to take measures to avoid the things that set me off. If I'm really good I plan my grocery shopping in advance and go at an odd time so I'm not faced with a packed store and no turkeys! Gift shopping in advance helps a lot, too. For such a great holiday it seems counterproductive to be under so much stress. The day itself can never live up to the expectation. I'm not saying anything that hasn't been said many times before by many people, including Charlie Brown. Christmas has gone commercial.

This year I gave our usual guests notice that Christmas would not be at our house this year. If they want to exchange gifts, we may do that at some unnamed date in the distant future. I've discussed with my family what they really want to do, since all these years we've done what we thought we were supposed to do. My kids are probably a lot like most in that they have more fun playing with the boxes the toys come in than the toys. Yup. Our big, grandiose, prefabricated Christmas plans will include: baking cookies, staying in our p.j.s, and make-ahead meals. They told us they don't like the stress of presents and the outlay of cash (in their own way, of course) and asked for the tree not to be bumped up against the ceiling with presents. Apparently, no matter how we try to smile at the thought of the impending Visa bill, the kids are on to us. They asked for no guests so they could spend more time with us and less "going places" requiring baths and perfect behavior. They want Mommy out of the kitchen and on the couch watching Ratatouille with them. Wow. Count me in. I think my heart just grew 2 sizes.

Old-Timer's Disease

The best way I can update the situation with my Dad and Alzheimer's is to share a phone conversation my daughter just had with him. This was a few days after spending a week together over Thanksgiving.

(ring ring)

Bumpa: Hello?

Coco: Hi, Bumpa! This is Coco!

Bumpa: What? Who? You have the wrong number. (click)

(ring ring)

Bumpa: Hello?

Coco: Bumpa! It's me, Coco! (then states her full name)

Bumpa: (long pause) Who? You have the wrong... (Coco interrupts)

Coco: Can I speak to Grandma?

Bumpa: Grandma? (long pause)

Coco: Is Mary there? (using Grandma's name)

Bumpa: Oh! No, she's at the store. Do you want to leave your name and I'll have her call you back?