Last Saturday, the weekend BEFORE Halloween and all it’s upcoming shenanigans, was quite busy itself. Kieran had been off school for two days, feeling feverish, but by saturday was just a bit sniffly and bored out of his gourd sitting indoors. Well, he would have been, if not for daddy letting him try the “Video Gaming Cure”, where he got to spend hours in front of the tv rally car racing and pretending to be Batman.

It was his first Saturday sitting on the sidelines only watching his Earthquakes, and we ended up going to the Home Depot Center to watch the actual San Jose Earthquakes get smashed by the LA Galaxy. Kieran was distressed for about a minute that we couldn’t root for “his team: the big guys.” His mind was changed by the fact that Rice purchased a Landon Donovan Jersey for him pre-game, and Donovan went on to score 2 goals. Kieran has since sat around looking at the game program chanting “GO GALAXY! GO DONOVAN!” I smell hero worship!

Sunday the Tegan & Sara concert was FINALLY HERE. It seemed we only bought the tix a million years ago. After I proceeded to get tipsy on pumpkin martini’s at Ugo, we made it to the Orpheum Theatre in pretty record time. Oh wait, it was Sunday.

Tegan & Sara did not let us down. They were jovial and talkative, and of course, the music rocked. They played the entire new album along with older faves (I recorded a few of my faves. Bad, bad techy girl!) and left feeling pretty excited for the new album. Now that it is my possession, I keep getting different songs stuck in my head.This is their 6th album peoples! They had me at So Jealous. Check them out!

Tegan and Sara at the Orpheum Theatre

Not much has been written in awhile. Here’s the situation. Right around the time Kieran started Kindergarten, and I was freaking out about that, I caught the cold that never ended. Actually, it turned itself into a Sinus Infection, something that I have never encountered before. I let myself go for weeks, until realizing this was not normal, and finally hauled my ass to to the doctor right as I was entering a downward spiral into the worst head/body aches, fatigue and icky cough I’ve had. Lovely, right?
So, it’s now Mid October, and I’m almost over the cough! Woo! It’s been one of those things where one thinks “will I ever feel normal again?” Except that I’m never really sure what normal is. HA.
During all of this I have been taking a friday night 3 hour web class, attempting the gym at ungodly hours, learning Flash ON MY OWN, taking on hefty projects at work, dealing with homework and paperwork and all that comes along with Kieran-In-School, and Pee Wee Soccer.

Damnit, can’t I just go back to lazy summers at the beach and attending concerts?

Ok, I once stated that T-ball was the greatest thing ever. It’s short, the kids are overly excited, and they have no idea what they are doing.

Apparently, Pee Wee Soccer is no different.

For the non Pee Wee Soccer person, the game consists of 2 eight minute halves where the two teams try their hardest to keep the ball in bounds and get it into the correct net. But there’s no keeping score. I’m sure I had a problem with this idea (the Everyone-Is-A-Winner attitude) before I reached the stage of experiencing the 4 and 5 year old’s mindset, and now I’m very much behind it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m only behind it at this stage, where they are just trying to get a handle on how to play these sports. Once they move on to the next level, I definitely think it’s about time to learn that winning and losing is an inevitable part of life. Still, our team did score 2 goals right off the bat! Kieran’s friend Jimmy, who was about to throw in the towel pretty early on because of dirt and lack of cold water, did a damn fine job getting our first goal. Didn’t I say they try their best to get it to (hopefully) their goal? Oh yes, they do. The WHOLE team does their best. A giant gaggle of 5 year olds all running up and down the field, tripping and smacking the ball off each other is fun that just doesn’t last long enough for us parents.

Actually, I am going to brag. Kieran was one of the few that listened to the coach during the game, and hung back to play defense. He did so well, he scored himself the ultimate player of the game award! I will admit it, I was so proud watching him play. He used to be, and still can be, one of the shyest kids around.

Just call me Soccer Mom D. I’ll be bringing the orange slices on my scheduled date in November. Who knows, maybe by then we’ll have that mini-van.

Yeah  Yeah Yeahs, Greek Theater, LA

Oh. My. Fucking. God. 

(and yes I mean that in a GOOD way.)

Nope, the title does not refer to a wedding (though they are pretty common this time of the year). It’s describing 2 of the bands I had the chance to catch at the end of Aug. who couldn’t be more different. One band is a large group of young ‘ens from Cardiff, the other 4 guys from Santa Barbara who’ve churned out quite a few radio hits since 1990. One I paid my hard earned money to see at a small club/theater called The El Rey. One, the whole family enjoyed downtown under the stars at Pershing Square for the price of a round-trip Metro ride.

I’d mentioned Los Campesinos! once ages ago, after Rice and I received their CD “Hold On Now, Youngster…” from the KCRW CD Club. The garage-esque sound, the tongue-in-cheek lyrics, the overall poppiness [yeah, I make up words] pulled me in immediately. They’ve got everything but the kitchen sink in their songs and even some of the goofiest of lyrics still somehow come off a bit poetic and very astute. (I also kind of like their blog. They are young, unsullied by fame and silly.)

The show at the El Rey was no disappointment. They sounded exactly the same as on both the albums I’ve listened to countless times (Hold on Now… and We Are Beautiful, We are Doomed). I screamed out the lyrics an danced [ok, shimmied] along with them and have decided I will purchase their new album to be released any day now, and if they come back again, I am nabbing some tickets. (Please play another small club!)

And now we go from a high energy concert to something a little more low key. Rolling out a blanket, eating street food (Latvian! Delish!) and watching Toad the Wet Sprocket under the high-rises of downtown LA was a bit surreal. I’d never owned a single album of theirs, but with every song it became apparent that they were clearly in the background noise during my tumultuous teen years.Those memories coupled with being so far removed from it (LA is quite the distance from home town in miles and way of life) was an experience I’m not likely to forget. Oh, and they were great live, though they could use some work on their banter (their ideas for a Toad Cover band: Rock on the Ocean or All I Rock).

Next up is Yeah Yeah Yeahs. I’ll be in the pit at the Greek Theater, again, screaming out songs and attempting to dance/make eye contact with Karen O. Since Placebo cancelled (I do not wish to discuss this right now. Still. Very. Sad.) I’m waiting for a Tiffany concert to help jog memories of when I was 12.

“I’m not dead yet.”
This summer’s musical theater experience was Spam-A-Lot, and it did not disappoint. Though I have some coconut halves, sent to us by Rice’s dear younger sister, I did not bring them to the show and “clop” along. As much as I do love a good show, it seems with musicals I tend toward my enjoyment of them lasting the length of the show, but when it ends and the lights come up, I am more than ready to leave. I felt the complete opposite with Spam. If it would have gone on for another 30 minutes, I would have been happily laughing it up and gazing in awe at the genius of this wonderful reworking of MP’s The Holy Grail.

Suddenly [This] Summer: Downtown LA
It turns out downtown is not only good for museums, high-rises, and jewlery but free summer concerts at Pershing Square. My friend Teresa’s birthday wish was to take the metro down, grab a few hotdogs and rock out to Martha Davis and The Motels, and why would I say no to such fun? I’ll never turn down trying on a million outfit combinations at T’s, while drinking lots of cheap red wine.
On the way downtown, I got some great footage of Teresa and her friend Andrea singing Only the Lonely. And we got to hear the tales of how Teresa was not only in her fan club at age 10, she ended up working for her in her late 20s/early 30s. So, Teresa stood up and shook her booty to The Motels. I would have too, if I didn’t already feel like an amazon with my height, and since we were right in the front of a million people sitting down, I would have felt very foolish. [Sorry T. You know I’d normally spaz out with you, but in this situation, I needed to be a little square.]
Martha Davis was pretty fantastic. Since I only know the two most popular songs they had, her voice held me captivated. And after the show, any doubts I may have had about how well Teresa really did know Ms. Davis disappeared the minute Martha recognized her, leaned over the merch. table, hugged her and said, “Oh my god, TWINK!” (that’s a cute lil nickname of Ts. I do not remember the origin).
After they caught up a bit, we took some pictures and left Martha to the rest of her fans waiting for their pictures. We attempted a bar at the base of the Bonaventure hotel [Suede] but it was a bit fancy and Drew was wearing shorts—a dress code no, no. The bouncer recommended numerous other bars in the hotel (go Bonaventure!) and we settled on the rotating top floor bar, The Bonavista. Great view. Great [BIG] drinks. Great cheese plate. BAD SERVICE. If one rotation takes 1 hour, that is how many times you will see your server. After we realized we’d made it back to seeing the Ahmanson Theater again, and passed it slightly, we were finally able to flag down a guy to get our check.

What can I say about the Ting Tings show from last night?

1. In an attempt to get wristband for the pit, got in line early amongst a surprisingly large group of under 18-year-olds wearing really bad faux ‘80s garb. Result: Felt terribly old.
2. Wore the sluttiest top I’ve worn in a very long time. It was completely backless which means: No Bra. Result: Felt extremely naked, not very worthy. But my tatts looked cute!
3. Downed well drink after well drink (instead of my usual penchant for Bacardi) to save money. Result: Still dropped $25 for a T shirt.
4. Hot Tub really wanted to channel Salt-N-Pepa, but I wasn’t buying it. I’m sure those ladies never shouted “Hey LA, let’s make some SANDWICHES!” Result: Still wondering where the sandwiches at?
5. Second guest, Natalie Portman’s Shaved Head, sang to us about a sideways ponytail, which lead singer kindly demonstrated beforehand. Result: Clearer understanding of the teenyboppers in audience now.
6. Ting Tings finally come out to wow and get us party people to dance as soon as my feet cry “Mercy!” Katie White, bless her, wore a hideously printed bodysuit with sleeveless purple sequined shirt over top. Sound was LOUD and sometimes hard to distinguish actual tunage or lyrics (though, of course, I knew them all) TT’s sang every song on the album, stretching a few to get the crowd pumped, said goodnight and left. Result: Made it back home by midnight. No sandwiches in the house, so wolfed down some mac & cheese. Didn’t turn into a gremlin.

I found myself somewhere yesterday that I never thought we’d actually get around to. It’s an event that every year Rice and I will say, yeah, we should totally go to that, and then complain it will be too hot/crowded/boring for the kid or we just forget all about it, then read about it later.  It is that extreme event which comes around once a year, combining sports, music and mucho mayhem: the Summer X Games.

Arriving late and only scoring tickets to the Rally Car racing, we scoped out the xfest (free junk everywhere, skate ramps and dirt bike tracks for the kiddies, wall climbing for the daring) then seated ourselves for something we’ve never witnessed live before. I was  amazed that I had such a blast watching the Rally Car racing, wondering if maybe deep down I am sort of a 15 year old male. I mean, I laugh at the most immature of jokes,  I geek out over Anime, The Venture Brothers and The Mighty Boosh, it’s no secret I’m attracted to women, and I discuss farts with my son. Sit me in front of Superbad and The Stoned Age all day and I’m good.

Keeping his ears covered to shield the noise in total Kieran fashion, he told me a hundred times that day what fun he had watching NASCAR. There was no point trying to persuade him that this was not, indeed, NASCAR. If cars are doing any kind of racing, that’s it’s moniker, and he will not be convinced otherwise.

We ended the day watching some skateboarding greats from the 80s duke it out. I think Rice was getting a bit misty feasting his eyes on Chris Miller, Lance Mountain, and Steve Caballero to name a few. I know I was totally impressed. If I could ride a board without flying off and bashing my skull in, or breaking all my body parts,  I would have been so tempted after watching these guys. See, again. 15 year old boy!

Well, I turn back into a chickadee tomorrow. Tuesday finds me heading downtown to see the Ting Tings in my newly purchased slutty top. I will be sporting makeup and dancing along to the drums, the drums, the drums, the drums…..

It’s hard not to think of this passage from Paint It Black by Janet Fitch, during all of the Michael Jackson hoopla:

Josie thought of Meredith’s life, the combination of great wealth and talent, with a black thread of tragedy running through. Was it worth having the one if you had to suffer the other? And yet, she reminded herself, poor people had tragedy too, and they didn’t get to play Carnegie Hall, travel the world with their picturesque agony, they didn’t have a beautiful gift. They acted out their tragedies in trailers and dingbat apartments, shacks and slums, everyday. Why were the tragedies of little people less profound than those of Meredith and Michael? What was it about having enormous advantage that made tragedy so much more tragic?

I have to weigh in with one thing that disturbed me. I don’t think I followed any tributes or man on the street quotes about MJ’s death, with the exception of any coverage played on NPR during my commute. But this morning, I was appalled by a woman’s comment that she cried more at his funeral than at any of her friends or family’s. Now, I get it that some people are just not close to their flesh and blood. And I understand feeling something, something strong, for someone who moves you with his work, his passion, his life. But friends too? Were they really? I can’t take this. This is just too crazy.

It’s hard to believe that I am working on the September issue of DAYSPA Magazine. Didn’t summer just begin? I have not taken in all those live shows I signed up for, or tended to my kid’s bruises after he takes off his training wheels, or shook enough sand from my bikini bottoms, or lost that last 5 pounds so I’ll feel really spectacular lying on a beach towel. Well, that last one’s pretty much not ever going to happen. I am female. There’s always 5 more pounds.

Hell, we’ve already had July 4th. We soaked up some sun at a pool party/BBQ/drink fest but never made it to fireworks. We still had an awesome time hogging the rafts and freaking out Jeff’s dog, Paisley. Kieran even got to try out a very lubed up slip-n-slide. I kept my nose in some Captain ‘n Coke, which is probably the real reason we didn’t hit the fireworks and nothing to do with one nervous Kieran.

Then there was The Hollywood Bowl. Figures my husband read “Show at 7″ as “Doors open at 7.” I nearly missed The New Pornographers, and actually did miss about 15 minutes of their set. They still amazed, though it was short, and I now I have a mission to see them as headliners. Ending the set with “The Bleeding Heart Show” was genius—our friends had to know the name of that song.

Next was Tegan & Sara. What can I say but, could I love these 2 anymore? They were the epitome of cute, bantering a bit between their songs, letting us all know how nervous they were to be playing such a large forum. I knew Rice loved them [I think he has a T & S marathon every few weeks] but he didn’t hesitate to buy a Tshirt and then wear it for the rest of the night. I just really want to hear them somewhere nice small. Guess that’s another mission.

Above: D, sad we missed some New Pornographers. Steve, Cindy, Jen, and Matt [Yokes] ready for a good time.

Death Cab For Cutie with the LA Philharmonic was the headlining act and though I’ve never given the band much of my time, it was a really great time. Of course, none of these bands I go out for put on “shows” like Brittany or Madonna, but the energy of the music was in full force, they were back and forth on that enormous stage totally lost in their groove. That’s what translates to me, gets me pumped, and the music turned out to be much more that I recognized than I’d originally thought.

The sad part? With three big bands [well, they are all big to me] we were home by 11:30. I know, right? maybe 3 hr. 45 tops for these insanely awesome bands? A travesty! Maybe there’s something to much lesser knowns opening up for you. TNP and T & S have 9 albums between them. NINE. And I know almost every one of them by heart.

But hey, atleast Death Cab went out with a bang. Rice and I got to see our fireworks.