My dad used to tell me often that I was wrapped too tight, and these days I feel what he meant. First-world problems one and all, but still the synapses are knotted up. Fortunately, I have my walksâŚand they do help get some kinks out. But this isnât about the traffic jam that is my brain, itâs about some of pieces that are falling out of its tangled branches:
Last time I wrote it was my momâs birthday and this time itâs my âbabyâ sisterâs. Sheâs the best. I canât wait to go out to lunch later today to celebrate all of her goodness. Enough said.
Ryan Seacrest as Wheel of Fortune host? Not feeling it.
Wish that the police officer who waved me through the lane closure was looking at oncoming traffic and not his phone whilst doing so. Fortunately one of us was paying attention.
If sweat lodges are your thing, join the Planet Fitness in Weymouth.
Luke Combs is #2 on the Billboard charts with his cover of Tracy Chapmanâs breakthrough song âFast Carâ (which sadly never reached that high on the charts). Hearing that news sent me simultaneously to Spotify and 1988, reminding me of the extent of the sheer brilliance that is Tracy Chapmanâs debut album. Been a while since you listened? Treat yourself.
Speaking of music, last Friday night I went to Fenway Park with my two sisters and three nieces to see Kane Brown (and Darius Rucker (Hootie, hold the Blowfish) and Gabby Barrett and Restless Road). Iâm not a country fan to the same extent that they are but thereâs a lot of fun music and it was a great crowd. God knows I love me some live music and it was so awesome sharing the experience togetherâsuch a fun night. Lots of highlights, including these:
But this product of the 80s is a sucker for the moment below. Youâll never catch me seated or silent when this song comes on, and thatâs why the video ends abruptlyâI had to sing louder and pump both arms up in the air.
Also on the subject of musicâand being a proud product of the 80sâthe very recent news of Madonna being found unresponsive is jarring. Glad to hear that the Material Girl is expected to recover fully. I donât think Iâll ever forget sitting in an old beach chair behind Shawâs Plaza not-quite-camping-out-but-waiting-a-long-time for Video-to-Go to open so I could get a wristband to buy tickets as soon as they went on sale to see her at the Worcester Centrum stop of her Blonde Ambition tour in 1990.
While Iâm on a music kickâŚseveral times Iâve suggested that Billy Joel update âWe Didnât Start The Fireâ to capture some more recent pop culture goings on. So huge shout out to Fall Out Boy for releasing a quasi-cover yesterday, covering some key events from 1989-2023. I wish it were in chronological order and it misses some important events both nationally and globally but itâs a solid bidâthough Iâd still love for Billy to add some more verses, covering the ensuing years. Well, decades (gasp!). Check it out just the same:
Iâm not 100% sure what kind of âconstructionâ work is going on at the house across the streetâŚand I will not be 100% surprised if one of the workers falls off the roof. I donât think theyâd balance the ladders more precariously if they were in a circus sideshow. And the homeowner seems to be constantly underfootâprobably both annoying the workers and making things that much more dangerous. I have 911 on speed dial. Just in case.
Anyone have any idea what I possibly could have meant when I scheduled a 6/26 calendar reminder to âsee Xfinity email from 6/7â? Iâve combed through my 6/7 Inbox and Sent folders ad nauseam to no avail. Obviously I need a better system. Time for some process improvement. Sorry not sorry for whateverâs falling through my record-keeping systemâs cracks.
The rise of tip culture really boils me. I have always been a generous tipper, despite the fact that I have never once been or expected to be tipped for just doing my job (and was barely tipped when I was a waitress at Friendlyâs back in the day, but thatâs a whole other story). So when the cashier does the iPad spin and then gives me that stare that virtually challenges me not to tip, I feel my heart beat fasterâŚmy jaw clench tighterâŚknowing theyâll know exactly what I do or donât tip. I find myself involuntarily fuming that anyone in their right mind actually expects extra money for doing their job. Service jobs, I get. But the rest of it is a bunch of BS. If me not tipping might end up with spit in something Iâm going to eat or drink, Iâll bite. But if you get me a bottle of water out of a case behind the counter, ring it up, and I pay $5 for it, your business owner can pay you fairly, thanks. Itâs like weâve gone from tipping for service to tipping for existing, And I blame COVID, when we tipped to keep businesses in business. Like masks, it was not meant to be a permanent solution. Stop the madness. If you must, put a tip jar on the counter. But donât make every transaction a psychological showdown.
I know that OOFOS recovery slides are all the rage, and I get it. But at the same time theyâre just kind of an open-faced pair of Crocs.
I was eating string cheese the other day and it hit me that as an adult I eat string cheese much like I did absconded Johnsonâs baby aspirin tablets as a kid and scoops of Kool-Aid powder as a tween.
So, the whole Titan thing ended up as expected, sadly. But much sadder is the fact that so much attention and so many resources were focused on this experiment gone awry than on the boat of 750 migrants that was wrecked off the coast of Greece. Wealth = privilege in this world, and the chasm between the haves and the haves nots grows wider and deeper. In a world where so many speak of diversity, equity, and inclusion, I suspect that the number of people in this world who feel less than or other than is beyond staggering, and quite possibly growing.
Whoever this Doug Burgum guy running for President whose ads are all over the TV lately is, um, Iâm pretty sure he wonât win. And his face never looks more punchable than when he says âwoke was what we did at 5AM to start our day.â
Speaking of TV, the other day Kerri asked me if we had any Bachelor or Bachelor in Paradise episodes recorded to watch. All I have to say is âmy work here is done.â To paraphrase a line from Adam Sandlerâs Hanukah song, âshe converted.â (We stayed up too late watching the first episode of the new season of The Bachelorette last night, and as mindless as it is, we giggle at the drama. Though I am very tired this morning as a result.)
So there were reports that a 2000-year-old fresco depicting a pizza was discovered in Pompeii. Then the report was disputedâit wasnât a pizza. It was focaccia with pomegranate and dates. With maybe some pesto on top. Is that not an artisan pizza?
Last night I was scheduled go out for a very long overdue dinner with an old friend whoâfor no specific reasonâis no longer a close friend. Plans got cancelled in the morning due to an emergency. Everyone is ok, but the outcome could have been different. My point here is simple. What to see someone? Make the plan.
Speaking of making things, if you are due or overdue for any medical anything of any type, make the appointment. I know. Some of these appointments are inconvenient and/or unpleasant, but they save lives, maybe yours. Me, well, I put my money where my mouth is and Iâm off to the dermatologist for my annual skin check at 8AM.
Speaking of my early morning, I am at an age where no matter the importance of what I need to wake up for, I need at least two alarms. Today required three, given the extra-pressure from the late night (up an hour+ past my desired bedtime, see #14 above) and how much I wanted to get done before I left. One if I wanted to shower and have coffee and write this. Another for if I was ok skipping the shower. And a third for if I wanted coffee and was ok being dirty and writing this after the appointment. The only non-negotiable was the coffee. In the olden days (pre-COVID), it probably would have been the shower. Todayâs morning schedule is especially treacherous because it also involves me schlepping the eight outdoor bar stools (that did not hold up to being outdoorsâthe wooden seats sprouted mushrooms, for real!) to the driveway for some neighborhood freecycling scheduled for 8AM. (Thanks, Facebook.) They better be gone when I get back from the doctorâs.
Letâs end it on a high note with this feel-good story about the Belgian shot putter-turned-hurdler. Some teammates had to drop out of the race but the team needed someone to compete so they didnât get DQâd from the whole meetâand Joliet Boumkwo stepped up in the ultimate sportspersonship story. If her smile at the end doesnât make your smile, well, un-harden your heart.
Thanks for being here, as always. I wish you the happiest of happy Friday Eves and hope you have a fantastic 4th of Julyâit really is a grand old flag that waves over this great nation of ours.
Love you too.