And Then I Saw a Gal Carrying a Diskman

Over Labor Day, I saw a young woman out walking with a Diskman. And I thought, "Hey is she actually carrying a Diskman?" And then I thought, "Hey didn't I write a blog about a Diskman?" And then I looked up my old blog and found this:

 

Long Live the 80's

The pressure is on. My brother and his wife are having an 80's dance party this month and I have to find the perfect costume. I was looking for an old bridesmaid's dress so I could portray Alexis from Dynasty. Couldn't find one so my whole Dynasty idea is out the window as is my idea for my husband's matching Zamfir the pan floutist costume. I believe Zamfir is or was once married to Linda Evans. Or maybe it was Kenny G? Six of one, half dozen of another.

As I sat thinking of ideas from the 80's, I began seeing flashbacks from those days. Tastes, sights and smells I remember like they were yesterday.

1) TAB. I think TAB is probably still sold in Bulgaria but it will never recapture its former glory.

2) Indian Earth. Unless you're an 80's girl, you probably don't know Indian Earth. It came in this cool mini-clay pot and the applicator was the cork top. The cheek bone it created was rather severe.

3) Parliaments. No, not George Clinton's back-up band. Parliaments. Smoke'em if you got'em.

4) Walkman. The clumsy precursor to the iPod. A must-have for tuning out the 'rents. (actual weight 2lbs versus the Diskman weighing in at approximately 5lbs)

5) Mickey's Big Mouth or PBR, et al. Any beer you could afford as a teenager.

6) Famolare shoes. Okay I just found out those shoes are made in Brattleboro, Vermont. I thought they were Italian for God's sake.

7) Buf Puf. I nearly scrubbed my face off with the Buf Puf. Someone should've said something.

Other things I remember are innocence. Having no fear. Getting out of the house as much as possible. Rick Springfield.

Those were the days my friend, we thought they'd never end.

My 13 Year-Old Loves a Refreshing Cocktail

Here's how it happened. As best I can recall. Our son is 13 this year and has led a kind of sheltered life. You really cling to the one, when he's the only one.

At any rate, my husband and I decided this summer, pretty much out of desperation, that Will needs to have more independence. He needs to take on some chores. He needs to have more room to roam about. He needs to stay busy because both of us are working full-time.

So I gave him a mission and a little cash, and sent him to the grocery store to pick up some of his favorite drink from his trips to Savannah - a bottle of Arnold Palmer. An Arnie Palmer is a mix of lemonade and iced tea. Very popular in the South / hot places.

Will rode his longboard to Stop and Shop and bought two big bottles of this concoction.

Then there was something about a lady yelling at him for riding his skateboard in the store. He couldn't remember exactly.

Moving on.

He made it home and brought my change back to me.

Mission accomplished! Well done!

AND he even remembered to put the first bottle he drank on the kitchen counter in the recycling area / next to the microwave. As I was taking the empty bottle out to the garage, I noticed the label read Arnold Palmer Cocktail Mix.

Cocktail mix?

Apparently Will didn't read the label closely or he would've seen he had a choice between the Arnie Cocktail just add one part vodka - and the Party Pitcher with 8 ounces of vodka.

On a positive note, it does contain 6% juice!

Bull Riding is Easier than Parenting

Yesterday was frantic. Late for school. Forgot to pack my son's lunch. Racing, racing. When I get rushed I can't think. It's funny because in an emergency, I can think. I remain calm. One time my son started choking on a piece of food in an airport. He was really little but we'd taken the CPR course and I remembered the finger swipe. Just like that, swipe, he was okay again.

But something about being frazzled while say driving to school really throws me for a loop. My son was talking and talking. So I turned off the radio thinking that would help. More talking. Reading street signs. "Enterprise Rent-a-Car," he said. "We'll pick you up." Apparently he's memorized their slogan or working on a new campaign.

Then he said, "Mom, do you know Enterprise Rent-a-Car is a bull riding sponsor?"

"Nope."

"You don't even care, do you?"

"Nope."

"Well they are."

"Could you please stop talking Will? You talk all the time and I can't think."

Then he gave me that look. That look that says, "That's really wasn't called for."

I run into Dunkin' Donuts to get a small light and sweet and 3 munchkins (for him) that Will insisted he needed. Again, even though we were late.

I got back in the car and apologized. "I'm sorry for what I said. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings." Really a chicken shit way out because of course I hurt his feelings.

"That's okay," he said. "I know I talk a lot."

"Why do you talk so much? Are you trying to give people information?"

"Yeah I guess so."

When we got to school I went in with him to deposit a check in his lunch account that was sitting at a zero balance. I said goodbye. Usually he gives me a kiss but we were inside the building now with witnesses so he started to walk away. Then he turned around to give me a kiss, I think because the coast was clear.

On the way out of school, I ran into his guidance counselor. We nodded hello and then she turned and called my name.

"Will's here today, right? I mean he's in school today?"

"Yes I was just dropping something off for him. He's here."

"Okay because he's won this big award. They're giving it to him today."

"What award? Does he know anything about this? He didn't say anything."

"No. It's a surprise. Only one boy and one girl in each grade gets it for being a good citizen. His teachers are so proud of how hard he's working and how much progress he's made."

His guidance counselor starts tearing up and then I start tearing up, standing there in front of school.

As if she hadn't noticed, I said, "I'm sorry I'm tearing up."

"Me too. It's a really big deal."

I drove away feeling like crap that on the day my son was being honored as a model student, I was giving him a hard time. You parents know what I mean. It's those times when you punish a child, only to find out they were making something for you when they made that mess.

The floor is covered in macaroni bits and paper but they hand you a little necklace just for you.

NB: Bull riding is my son's latest. He wants to know where we can find a bull riding school. Anyone?