March 23, 2008 | Speak Up Sonny. I can't hear you.

I was at Safeway yesterday and I remembered that I needed shampoo. I don’t normally buy hair products at the grocery store but this was kind of an emergency. I had been using baby shampoo because that is all that was left in the shower.

So I was browsing in the shampoo aisle when I saw it. Paul Mitchell Shampoo One. I didn’t even know they still made Shampoo One, but there it was.

Yes, yes, I remember the commercial where Paul himself said that they didn’t guarantee their products unless I bought them in a salon but I couldn’t resist.

(Don’t worry, this story will eventually go somewhere.)

This morning I got in the shower and the second I smelled the Shampoo One it was as if I has been whisked back in time to the eighth grade. I was a huge user of Paul Mitchell products back in junior high school.

I could almost hear the Def Leppard and feel the spiral perm. I knew exactly who I had a crush on and who my math teacher was. I wanted to walk to 7-11 with Jill and buy Teen Beat to see if there were any articles on Corey Haim.

And then I remembered where I was and I looked at my son (who was in the shower with me and inexplicably washing my shower walls with bar soap) and realized how lucky I am and how great my life has turned out so far.

It is so easy to get frustrated with the day to day minutia: This morning Ian dumped a training potty full of pee on my carpet, Claudia threw a screaming fit in Trader Joe’s last week, I can’t get Spirit Airlines to refund my $29 the cat won’t stop meowing so that I will open up the window and it is 40 degrees outside.

But you know what? I have a great family, children and a nice place to live.

But most of all, I don’t have to be in junior high anymore.

Cross Posted on DC Metro Moms Blog.

March 5, 2008 | Parenting, Speak Up Sonny. I can't hear you., The Blue One

I was just in the kitchen getting dinner started (No really, I was cooking. Ahead of time and everything. Shut up. It could happen.) and the kids were screwing around in the kitchen trying to get in my way playing nicely as I was chopping vegetables.

Ian (who is mainly concerned with safety near hot stoves) was pretending to surf on his Diego coloring book.

“Wipe Down!”

“You mean wipe out.” I said.

“Wipe Down!”

“Wipe out? Like when you surf?”

He rolled his eyes at me.

My three year old boy rolled his eyes at me and in his most condescending voice said “Wipe down. Like when you fall down into the ocean”.

To which I said “Look Lane, you are really bringing me over.”

If it weren’t for this blog all of my best material would be wasted on people who don’t appreciate how hilarious I think I am.

January 15, 2008 | Speak Up Sonny. I can't hear you.

December 3, 2007 | Speak Up Sonny. I can't hear you.

My children will never know what it was like to live in America before 9/11. They have always had TiVo. The lowest tech video game system they have ever seen is PlayStation 2. As far as they know you have always been able to say the word shit on television. I don’t think they even ever seen a dial phone or coke in a glass bottle, and they have have never heard a president pronounce the word ‘nuclear’ properly.

Apparently they also don’t remember what it was like before greeting cards played “Word Up” or “The Final Countdown” because when we got out holiday card from our Washington Post carrier (which, what the hell, by the way) Ian put it up to his ear, looked disappointed and said “I don’t hear anything”.

November 6, 2007 | Music, Speak Up Sonny. I can't hear you.

In The United States today is Election Day.

Obviously (if you are me anyway) I have had that Arcadia song stuck in my head all day.

This is the part of the post where you are going to have to pay attention in order to follow my train of thought. In 1985 Simon LeBon, Nick Rhodes and Roger Taylor from Duran Duran formed a side group. This band was called Arcadia (John Taylor and Andy Taylor formed The Power Station with Robert Palmer and Tony Thompson*). Arcadia wrote the song “Election Day” which plays in my head on a continuous loop the first Tuesday of every November.

So I’ve been thinking about Duran Duran and something that has been bothering me for a couple years now.

I used to be a Durany (Duranee?). Yes, before I got into hair metal (and then Death Metal) I openly worshipped Duran Duran. The walls of my bedroom were covered with pictures of John Taylor that I ripped out of Tiger Beat.

Here is my point. I used to think that Duran Duran was super deep. (Cut me some slack, I was in the 6th grade.) Read these lyrics from “Last Chance on the Stairway”.

Funny it’s just like a scene out of Voltaire, twisting out of sight
‘Cause when all the curtains are pulled back
We’ll turn and see the circles we traced?
Ain’t no game… (oooh)
When you’re playing with fire
It doesn’t seem right that we fight
So the party runs on all night

And sometimes I’m caught in a landslide
My beat’s so in time can you look at me
I’m out of reach I’ll talk if it feels right
So nervous to say, tell me can’t you see
If you want I’ll fall out forever
I can’t say no more… babe dance with me
And please don’t say leave till later
I’ve had my last chance on the stairway.

Right. So as an adult that has actually read Voltaire I realize that this is pretty much garbage. And much like seeing that stupid reality show when Tommy Lee went to college this is cheapening my childhood. I want this song to mean something, but now all I get out of it is “babe dance with me”, I detest the word ain’t and crap, I wished I hadn’t wasted my time reading “Candide” because wasn’t it kind of a stupid book?

Fine. Now I am going to go vote to show my children what a responsible citizen I am all while feeling old and disillusioned. And you can look at this picture of John Taylor in a fedora.

* Is it messed up that I didn’t need to look any of that up?

May 16, 2007 | Speak Up Sonny. I can't hear you.

If I am telling you too much, I apologize in advance. I just don’t know who else to tell when my gynecologist tell me that I have a perfect pelvis.

A perfect pelvis? I had no idea. I was very flattered.

Of course, she had to go and wreck everything by telling me that I had gained a lot of weight this year.

As if I hadn’t noticed.

I was all set to blame my medication, which can be responsible for that kind of thing. I was hoping she would feel sorry for me and give me some Phen Phen help suggest a diet supplement or something. But no, she told me to eat less and exercise more.

Then to add insult to injury, she said that when we get older sometimes it just gets harder to maintain a healthy weight.

First she says I’m fat and then she says I’m old… I won’t even go into what else she did to me. I left the office feeling pretty bad about myself.

But at least I have a nice pelvis. Whatever the hell that means.

(That picture is not my pelvis. I can only assume mine is better than this one.)

August 27, 2006 | Speak Up Sonny. I can't hear you.

I felt old today because the ambient music in the grocery store was “Blitzkrieg Bop”.

Not even muzak or anything, just The Ramones. Uncensored. How un-punk is that?