Sunday, August 19, 2012

Silhouette Warriors?


Here's an ode to summer crowds.  I've been involved in a few lately.  I like crowds because of all the rubbing up against people you don't know.

First there was the KEXP Concert at the Mural, which involved emo indie bands playing the Mural Stage under the Space Needle.  Also, hipsters wearing fedoras.



Then there were the Blue Angels at the beach.  Now that the weather's finally gotten blasted hot around here, our beaches are full of pale human beings blinking at the sun.  I love the smell of Coppertone on a hot day even though I don't apply it often enough and get sunburned.

Crowded beach, sand in our sandwiches, lost toy shovel.  Worth it to see aerial magicians.

An ode to the Artist Formerly Known as Prince? 


Lucien has logged onto the math program used by his school a few times this summer.  I noticed recently the icon he uses for his login.  While others in his class have chosen more "traditional" representations of themselves, Lucien has gone a different direction --

Lucien's the one in the middle

I'm not one to stress about traditional gender roles and whatnot -- hell, I act like a horny old man most of the time and a small baby of unspecified gender the rest of the time -- so it didn't bother me Lucien chose a girl icon.  It did interest me, however, that it didn't bother Lucien, and that apparently no one gave him any grief for it.

(Which made me wonder -- at what age do kids get all, "You throw like a girl!?"  Perhaps we're still too young for that nonsense.  If I hear Lucien or any other child say something along those lines, I'm going to say, "That's a dumb thing to say because I'm a girl and look what I can do," and then *whooooooooosh* I'm going to throw a ball around planet Earth.) 

Back to my point.  I asked Lucien, "Why did you choose this girl as your icon?"  I steeled myself for his response -- if the boy told me that he, in fact, identified as a girl, I was going to wrap him in a huge hug and yell, "I LOVE YOU, MY DAUGHTER!" because I'm supportive like that.  Instead, Lucien looked at me like I was one dim bulb and said, "Mom, she has PURPLE HAIR"  and walked away in slight disgust, totally bummed his mom couldn't recognize awesomeness when she saw it.

If you think this is a photo of Lucien pointing and yelling, "BUTT!" you are correct.


Another crowd-infused night involved the block party over on The Street of Dreams.  Even though we didn't get The Goddamn House and don't live there, The Street of Dreams still treats us as one of their own and invites us to all "family" functions.

The block party was a kid-friendly affair but I attended without my kids.  I was coming off ten days solo during Alex's most recent trip to Japan and China and I really, really, really, really, really, really needed a break.  I wanted to drink from the neighborhood keg without worrying how gravely injured my children were in the bouncy house.

I rode Lucien's scooter to the block party because I was running late.  I saw the scooter leaning against the wall and thought "Perfect!  Marginally faster than walking!"  The babysitter asked, "Are you really going to ride a scooter to your party?" and I said "Yes" and scooted off down the street.  I could hear her laughter all the way to the corner.

It was a treacherous journey because scootering on hills is hard.  I fell down a few times so walked the scooter for a bit.  The terrain flattened again at the Street of Dreams so I hopped back on, just in time for Contractor God to walk out of his house, see me and say, "My God, you're a delinquent."

Feel the love on The Street of Dreams!

The Block Party was an evening of debauchery, as family-oriented block parties tend to be.   It went very late, and while I myself did not get drunk, I saw many of my comrades fall to the drinking sickness worse than they've ever fallen before.

It seemed a great idea to invite the Seattle Police Department to come meet the kids and hand out SPD stickers, but less so when our friend's inebriated wife put the stickers on her boobies and proceeded to talk to the officers three inches from their faces.  There was much hissing back and forth between the rest of us, "Oh my God, somebody make her stop."


As I took this picture of SPD Boobs, Seattle Mom yelled "It's OK, she cuts off faces!" and pointed at me.  Seattle Mom had only wanted to let SPD Boobs know she would be anonymous on my blog but SPD Boobs knew nothing of my blog so the comment confused and frightened her.  Without context, that quote is quite jarring.  SPD Boobs didn't spend much time with me after that.

Seattle Mom and I went to another Concert at the Mural last night.  The bands playing were old Seattle grunge bands so the crowd was decidedly older and grungier than last time we went.  In fact, Seattle Mom and I, in our sundresses and semi-made-up faces, were the only ones who seemed to put any effort into appearances whatsoever.  We stood out so much, I told her, "My God, we look like prostitutes."  Many prostitution jokes followed because everyone knows prostitution is hilarious.

This is the tent at the beer garden.  It says, "The tint is pitched and yes, we're happy to see you."  They must have been talking to us because we're the only women who looked like women there.


This was a guy changing his shirt in front of us.  I never saw him from the front.  Can someone tell me what that strap is?  I got nothing --


We stopped by German Seattle Mom and Dad's place on The Street of Dreams after the concert because the party never stops at their house.  We had a contest while sitting on their front steps; it was called "what would you name your band?"  Supermodel Neighbor had a contender with "Silhouette Panties" but German Seattle Dad brought home the win with "Buttermilk Warriors."

My mom and dad came to visit last week.  They didn't stay long, just a quick trip "to see the grandkids and the house."  Umm... hello?  I expected to be replaced in their hearts by my kids, but not my house.  It stings a little.

my people


My Dad and I went to get some barbecue at a C.D. barbecue joint where a man named Pookie makes the best pulled pork and brisket.  Pookie chatted with us a little bit then said to me, "I don't always tell people they're blessed because it's not always true, but YOU.... you are truly blessed."

He said this because he couldn't think of anyone in his life who could say they still had both parents, both in good health, both pretty damn great and still married coming up on 50 years.

Aside from their good health and good marriage, it's true, I'm blessed to have my parents.  I hit the parent jackpot even though they sometimes do questionable things such as fight with my son over a ridiculous monkey game that involves something called "a banana pile" (My Dad insists he won his banana pile fair and square but others aren't so sure).


So tell me, posse, what's YOUR band name?
MJ

26 comments:

  1. I stumbled across your blog a little while ago (followed a chain of links from somewhere). The photo of the guy with the strap? It looks like the heart rate monitor my husband wears when he works out.

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    1. Carrie beat me to it. That's what it looks like to me too. I guess going to a concert is more of a workout than I had imagined.

      My band name? There's a thing going around on FB where the name of your band would be the color of your trousers and the thing you ate last. Black eggs? ick.

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    2. Band Name: if that's true, then my band name at this moment would be called Naked Cereal.

      I'm not wearing any pants.

      PS I'd vote for "heart rate monitor" also. Or else he's cross-dressing and that's a flimsy little bra.

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    3. Ahhh... heart rate monitor. Sure, let's go with that. Going to concerts is very hard work, especially when you're standing still in the beer garden.

      Black Eggs frightens me but Naked Cereal just may stand a chance.

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  2. Replies
    1. Oh shit, why didn't I think of that?

      I miss you, Bec! You doing OK?

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    2. I be doing fine, thanks for asking. Just kinda busy because I quit my job, started homeschooling and moved to the country. Then two weeks after I moved in, I had to move out. I know you know what that's like! It was the Age of Suck. But now I get to stay, yippee! Oh and I started another blog, as you kept encouraging me to do, so really my recent lack of commenting is all your fault. I hope you feel suitably bad about that.

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  3. I also have a husband that would look like that from the back only worse because he also has straps attached which makes it look very bra-like! He has to wear a "life Vest" 24/7 which is essentially a portable defibillator.(However, he would never take his shirt off at the beach for all to see it esp from the front!!LOL) I saw a phrase recently that I thought would be perfect for the name of a band "Blackpond Algae". I think they would play that awful music like Hank Williams JR. plays. Kathy in Iowa

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    1. Whoa. A defibrillator? That is not messing around at all.

      I like Blackpond Algae. Definitely country western -- and with an American flag tattoo and an "I HATE OBAMA" bumper sticker to boot.

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    2. You've gotta love a guy who's so ready to rock out that he brought his own defibrillator.

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  4. Am a Message mom, read your Paris blog first - you make me laugh.

    I want to start a band called Erin G and the Plastic Band with a tone deaf lead singer and plastic instruments bought at the drugstore. -Jeannine

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    1. Jeannine, I sure am happy to have you around because this just made me laugh out loud. Thank you for that.

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  5. I had decided on Pussy Riot but the damned Ruskies beat me to it...back to the drawing board.

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    1. Gina Marie! I thought the same thing upon first hearing their name -- Dammit, that should have been ME. Things aren't going so well for them right now, though, so perhaps it's all for the best.

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  6. Prostitution jokes are funny! I have, hand on heart, one that goes back twenty years with one of my dearest friends. And we still crack up over it. It has bound us for life. Btw, I live in Seattle and am trying to suss out where the SOD is. So far you've given me nothing. Good job, you.

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    1. Hi Minda,
      The SOD is perched upon a cloud at the end of the rainbow. Nobody ages there, and alcohol has no calories.

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  7. well my most fav moment this go round is you scootering to the party-i L-O-V-E IT -scootering is so cool-is that why you refrained from the drink-the ride home? i think i would be so awesome riding a scooter after a few...i'm glad your parents came for a visit and your al is home enjoy what is left of summer up there-our 's has been hot humid and gross-in short...funny and informative AS ALWAYS!

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    1. Hi G! Yes, the thinking was I would scooter to the party because the likelihood I would kill someone in a drunk scootering accident (aside from myself, of course, because hills are hard) was slim to none. But then I ended up staying too late and one of my friends had to drive me home with my scooter folded up in the back seat.

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  8. For crowd rubbing with strangers pleasure, the New Dehli train station is unequaled.

    Lucien's icon pick - Only adults would look at it in a male/female identity way, whereas Lucien is looking for adventurous cool people using purple hair as a leading indicator. I hope he remains fearless of peer pressure. Walking down that road less traveled will serve him well.

    Before finding out the guy with a strap across his back was wearing a heart monitor, it looked so wrong I thought he should be beaten and arrested. (We'll overlook those times back in high school, when everybody was gone, I would wear my sister's tubetop)
    If in such a contraption, wouldn't a normal person at least keep their shirt on.

    Can't blame your father. I too would take umbrage, even possibly turn violent, if accused of not winning my banana pile fair and square.

    My bands name is a toss up between Betty Ford and the Clinics
    or The Jehovah Waitresses.

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    1. Hi Bill. Thanks for the tip -- will book my trip to India pronto.

      I, too, hope Lucien continues to be the individual he is. I love everything about that strange, loud little boy.

      LOL over the sister's tubetop. Bill's back in the comment box and he's in good form, everybody!

      And yet MORE LOLs for your band names. Those are bloody brilliant. So brilliant that when I have a band, I'm going to steal the shit out of one of your names.

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  9. Duh Mom... she has purple hair! Having had purple hair, yes on purpose, this makes people want to be around you. That Loosh just has a good solid head on his shoulders. I could not thing of band name. So I cheated. There is a band maker website. Here's what it came up with for me: Warhead Of The Magic Surrender or Beneath Cliff <----THAT's funny. I dated a guy named Cliff,and well... you finish the rest. What's new with Coco? She seems like she always has something to say.

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    1. April, you are awesome with your purple hair. I've often wanted to go that bold but best I could do was that accidental orange in Paris.

      Beneath Cliff. I love it.

      Coco is her usual silent-but-deadly self. She's recently taken to standing on coffee can "stages" and singing into a paintbrush "microphone." Another showwoman in the family. Fan-eff'g-tastic.

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  10. Just stopped by your blog to see if I had missed a post...and I had. As always, enjoyed the read! Hope things are progressing well on the house!
    ~Melanie

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    1. Melanie! We're taking a brief hiatus on the house as Contractor God and his team have been working elsewhere these past two weeks. They start again here Monday and will pretty much rip apart the front of the house. Yeah! Lead paint!

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  11. What a sweet tribute to your parents. I hope they read it and it makes them smile - I know I would!

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    1. Hi Lora! Thanks...mom and dad both read the blog so they'll definitely receive their ode. They are just pretty darn great.

      Bye, everyone and thanks as always for stopping by.

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