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Monday, July 4, 2011

In Which Some Days Are Incredibly Special

Okay, so last Wednesday something really cool happened at work. Michael Franti stopped by to sing on our little dog and pony show. THE Michael Franti... beloved barefooted, Rasta-headed, yoga-loving purveyor of peace, love and sunshine was in our studios!!

Shut UP!!

I know, right? An actual huge name in music brought his ridiculously upbeat songs to our hovel.

It was fabulous! He could not have been more lovely or kind. Not one prima donna bone in his exceedingly tall frame. From the minute he stepped off the limo shuttle, he warmly embraced everyone in his path, literally and figuratively.

Our Wednesday regular, Christine of Whirl Magazine, is a ginormous fan of Franti's and managed to snag an interview at the last-minute. She's kind of my hero now.

We dedicated two long segments to him and his small posse.



His guitarist, Jay, was so delightful to watch perform. He never stopped smiling and be-bopping in his seat. Seriously. Look at him. The happiest guy in the room. His positive energy was contagious. Clearly his job makes him giddy.

Or he was high.

I kid. I'm kidding. I'm a kidder.

We all were floating.

That evening Franti and company played to a packed house on the north shore. I was joined by three newbies to the church of Michael. If you recall (and I know all two of you do because I AM the center of your universe, right), I had the pleasure of being part of his Cosmic Congregation last year.
our band of merry revelers

From the minute his shoeless feet hit the stage, he had the crowd jumping, waving their arms and singing back to him. We were putty in his loving hands at the first note of the opening number.



Once again, he fearlessly wove through the crowd not once, but three times.
feeling the love from the crowd
During his playful tune, Shake It!, Franti invited everyone to come up on stage to shake their groove thang. When the dust cleared, this little tyke wasn't ready to go, so they strapped on Michael's big ole gee-tar and let him join in.
Go, Little Man, Go

Smiling J, shredding like a rock star

the coolest man in the room

another trip through his adoring fans

how long will these two talk about this night, huh?

Oldsters next to us
even though it doesn't look like it, they were boogieing

"raise your hands in the air"

me, a wee bit too excited about that free coffee
a Woo and a Hoo
Hola, Hola y'all



And Seriously, who can resist giant, yellow balloons? So fun!! His shows are just one huge party where no one fights... or throws up in your toilet. Aaaa, but there was ganga. Oh yes there was, but again young people do not share. What the eff is up with that?!?



For Hey, Hey, Hey Franti scoots backstage while the band is playing and magically pops up amongst the audience to everyone's delight. I LOVE this song! It's impossible to sit still while the message seeps in...

I say Hey Hey Hey 
No matter how life is today
There's just one thing I got to say
Don't let another moment slip away


A mantra to live by, for sure.



Dude! He stood right next to our table! I was bummed to have missed him standing next to me because I chose to dance on the stairs, but then I remembered that I actually got to hug and talk to him that morning, so... I'm good.

Note: Keeping the covers streak alive, the band did their take on Bob Marley's classic Could this be Love. Is there a more fitting song for Franti to cover? I think not. 

As is tradition at a Spearhead concert, Franti calls to stage all the children and people over 60 from the audience. He made the comment that this was the first time they had that many older people on stage. For once our aging population in Allegheny County paid off. Our oldsters kick ass, Yo! Ha Ha!

young and old tearing up the stage

check out the posture on the girl in tie-dye
can you say annoyed?

representin' the hippie elders

this 82 year old stepped up with her purse and cane
she's all about awesome
I aspire to be her at 82

When they finally said their farewells to the adoring crowd, the positive vibe was reverberating off the walls. I didn't see one person who wasn't sporting an ear-to-ear grin, except for the cranky pre-teen behind our table who spent the entire evening forcing a pout save for one moment of weakness when he dropped his snear to high-five my friend after their brush with musical greatness. That family has a looooooong couple of years there, boy howdy. The rest of us walked away filled with shear, unadulterated joy, spirit sufficiently uplifted.

They won't be back through America in a while, but from September 29-October 5, Spearhead is headlining the Rombello cruise along with my fantasy husband and musical love, Rhett Miller. There are a number of other notables performing on the cruise to Cozumel as well.

If only I was independently wealthy...

The unflappble optimism of Michael Franti and Spearhead AND Rhett Miller on the same ship for five days!! How fun is that boat ride going to be?

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Saturday On The Deck With Geo
or hanging with my honey is its own work of art

Okay, so yesterday turned into a good day.

For the record, Geo and I don't get to spend much time together. We barely see each other for two hours a day due to my early bed time and his tremendous work ethic which keeps him at the office longer than perhaps he should. Definitely longer than I would like.

What's a wifey to do?

His impeccable integrity and unshakable work ethic are two of the many qualities I adore about him. At the same time, when I'm sitting at home alone for hours without him, they are the two characteristics I loathe.

I know, SPOILED, but I can't help it. I miss him. Then when we are together there's just too much to catch up on... too much to physically clean up, too much to discuss, too much to watch on the DVR, too much paper piling up...that we sometimes waste our precious time together arguing about me pushing him too far, him being snotty, me getting stompy... It's an ugly avalanche of ill temperament.

*Sigh*

And then there are the days when we both seize the opportunity to just be. Together. Without expectation.

And it is magical.

Yesterday was that day.

I got released from my indentured servitude at 1pm, arriving home to find Geo entrenched in yard work. It was too glorious a day to be inside, so I finished up a few tiny outdoor projects of my own and gave Geo a hand trimming our hairy beast of a Willow bush. (add your own off-color comment here-consider it a freebie) Holy Crap this thing gets so out-of-control huge so quickly, I swear it has designs on quietly breaking through our bedroom window and strangling us in our sleep. 
Moving on...

Not that I need an excuse to drink, but it was really hot and sticky out. REALLY hot and sticky. And that was without taking into account my own "personal summer" going on. An icy something with a kick was definitely in order. Funny how throwing back, er... I mean sipping a crazy, impossible-to-pronounce Brazilian Cachaca cocktail makes clean up duty downright playful. Did I mention how hot and sticky it was?

The cool thing about mundane physical labor is it takes little concentration and allows the opportunity for great conversation. The alcohol doesn't hurt either. Geo and I talked, we planned, we sang, we laughed, we teased, we played Name That Tune with the iPod...

When the last bundle was tied, we cracked open the vodka, noshed on gourmet cheeses and olives, and enjoyed each other's company. Reconnecting while sitting on the deck watching a magnificent summer day wane into night, wishing this evening could last a lifetime.

And that's worth way more than any completed to-do list.

Saturday, July 2, 2011

In Which Thelma And Louise Ride Again

Okay, so twenty years ago (Holy Good God! Has it been that long?), my BFF, Beets and I rented a baby blue convertible Mustang, left the boys at home and headed for the Jersey Shore with a blender, two packs of smokes and a desire to cut loose.

We hung on the beach, drank copious glasses of Margaritas at the pool, smoked too many Newports, chatted up boys and let the wind blow through our sun-kissed hair while we poodled around with the top down. It was the perfect female bonding weekend.

Look at how happy we were...


Woo Hooo! Out of our way, Mother Pluckers!
Twenty years along, we both have more adult responsibilities and Beets doesn't have the free time to frivolously frolic in the surf unencumbered by children yet, but hopping in her bright red convertible Mustang on a ridiculously sunny day, cruising through the countryside, blaring our favorite tunes is enough to transport us right back to 1991 and our carefree, hot tamale, 30 year-old selves.

Look at how happy we are...




Good friends, sunshine and the unadulterated joy of  a convertible top... That's what Summer's all about, Charlie Brown.

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Dear Fox News: Just Give Up Already 

When will Fox News learn that Jon Stewart is smarter than them? The barely fair and completely unbalanced "news" organization has been dicking with Stewart for years and have always come away bruised and stammering. But God love their pointy little crazy heads, they keep drawing first blood.

Clearly they are slow learners.

Behold, the brilliance of the most trusted person on the boob tube.



Take that Mother F***ers!

Friday, June 24, 2011



Friday, Friday! Getting Down On Friday!!

Friday Video: because it's too funny not to watch again.

Okay, so some wealthy Mom paid a ton of money so her 13 year old daughter could do an inane music video for her birthday. It's horrible, spawned this hilarious parody by Jimmy Fallon and Stephen Colbert. It makes me laugh every time I watch it.

Happy Friday, everyone!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=fSAwOcFr_VE

Monday, June 20, 2011

In Which I Realize Something About Myself

Okay, so Geo and I went to a family graduation party up North at his cousin's farm. It's a gorgeous, wide open expanse perched on the crest of a hill under a big sky overlooking a neighboring farm. Ken was an organic farmer long before it became all the rage. He took a leap of faith almost 20 years ago, quit his day job and devoted his life to agriculture. He and Kathy grow gobs of produce and harvest eggs from their gazillion chickens... who really funked up the atmosphere around our Corn Hole challenge.

chicks taking in the Corn Hole contest
while simultaneously "fowling" up
the ozone (I know. groan)

Here's the thing, as much as I appreciate the simplistic beauty of bucolic life and am grateful to those who dedicate their lives to feeding others through their perpetual daily labor, I am and always shall be an urban suburbanite. I like the fact our neighbors are within reach. I like being able to walk to restaurants and shops. I like being ten minutes away from the city and all it's wonderful cultural amenities.

Visiting the family's pastoral homestead or Beets north 40 spread is like taking a welcomed mini respite to commune with nature, but after an afternoon I itch for my urban dwelling. Literally. My head itches from all the bugs and shit.

My name is Murray and I am a city girl through and through.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Late Late Night Shenanigans
or the irresistible silliness of Craig Ferguson

Okay, so let me just say how much I love Craig Ferguson. His sharp wit and completely irreverent sense of humor is right up my proverbial alley. And then there's his delicious Scottish brogue that makes the utterance of any off-color, dihrrrty words charming.

To me, one of the funniest things to watch is a performer succumbing to a completely ridiculous moment, breaking down into uncontrollable laughter. It's contagious and endearing and funny as hell. Mere mortals can't help but get swept up in its tide. My favorite moments in the Carol Burnet show were when Tim Conway finally made Harvey Corman break down in front of that live audience. Genius.
Back in May, Ferguson and his animatron sidekick, Geoff Peterson, had an unscripted encounter that left Ferguson crying from laughter within the first 20 minutes of the show. The first half of his show is some of the funniest, zaniest stuff on the boob tube, but it's on so late for me it may as well be broadcast on Mars. A friend at work shared this clip with me. Enjoy!



Geoff you magnificent mechanical bastard! It almost makes me wish I worked overnights. Almost. C'mon. I'm not that nuts, yo.

BALLS