my night in tarrytown

i don't know if i'll make a habit of going back to tarrytown often. however, many of my favorite musicians appear to like playing at the music hall, so maybe i will. but for now, my night there will be memorialized by images of hanging witches and ghosts, the question of just how many tarrytowns there are, creepy scarecrows, the need for TWO chinese restaurants and brazilian restaurants, and todd snider.

todd was great to watch. as were the other fine gentleman (bruce robison and robert earl keen). it was my first exposure to either of them. i knew who robert earl keen was because of the song "BEER RUN" but i knew none of his music.

it was a wonderful night. solidified my todd snider fandom. i wish i had discovered the use of words as we walked by him having dinner at the greek restaurant. but i like to think i just opted to not bother him while he was having a delightful dinner with his family and friends.

i'm sticking with that story.

A new habit

a photo a day... if i can't write, i can click

 

I love Todd Snider

This is not a surprise to anyone. Least of all me. Most exciting right now is the fact that in less than two weeks I will be seeing the man live. This will be my first time. I am beyond excited. Super excited.

I wish it was already October 30. Thinking about this milestone, I decided to come up with what might be my top 10 favorite Todd Snider songs. I say might because this list could drastically change tomorrow.

So here goes - in no particular order ...

1. Doublewide Blues
2. The Ballad Of The Devil's Backbone
3. Money, Compliments, and Publicity
4. Broke
5. All That Matters
6. Feel Like I'm Falling In Love
7. Vinyl Records
8. The Devil You Know
9. America's Favorite Pasttime
10. Happy To Be Here.

Has it really been a year?

I call this picture Mermaid mom.

My mom died one year ago tomorrow. I honestly don't know how that happened. Where did the year go? What do I have to show for it?

I guess the question is what happens now? I've been waiting for this year to be over. And now it's here and I have no idea what to do.

I feel like I should mark it somehow. But all I do is think about where I was exactly one year ago. Last week I was at a meeting. The entire time I thought about how I was at the same place for a similar meeting. I even parked in almost the same place. Hell, it may have been the exact same parking spot.

On Sunday, I went to my brother's house to have dinner with his in-laws. A year ago, we did the same thing. That night was when everything started.

This whole week has been a mess of "last year at this time." My mom passed away on a Wednesday. That would have technically been today. This whole night people were over. I remember eating chicken and drinking wine. I remember calling the few people I wanted to talk to. I remember sitting on my porch talking to my friend Sara and feeling a little shaky but shocked at how calm I was. I remember sitting on the floor in a corner of the "green room" and talking to my friend Jess. I remember that I had on a red dress. I wore that to the hospital. I thought my mom would like it. She loved the color red. She didn't notice. I believe she had no idea I was there. I haven't worn it since. I remember ripping it off and putting on a t-shirt and jeans for the rest of the night.

I remember everything. The feelings and images are burned in my head. I remember that last hour. I remember the feeling in my body when we had to make a decision. I can still remember the feeling of the nurse's hand on my back when we sat in the room.

I remember it all. But I can't believe it happened. I'm still a little blown away. I still catch my breath at realizing she isn't here.

I am terrified of forgetting her. Or of just remembering the parts that were really bad. She had been sick most of my life. I don't want to just remember that.

Obviously, it's been hard. And I feel like tomorrow has to mean more than just one year. Does it all change? After tomorrow, nothing is new. The new reality is over. It's no longer a matter of "This is the first ______ since my mom died." I've already experienced it. Now what?

I miss that smile.

My mom and I at my niece's softball game last summer.

My mom and I. I think I'm not even one yet. I had massive ringlets at my first birthday.

My parents at Balboa Island.
I love this picture.

My mom and I went up to the Berkshires a few years back for some shopping and lunch. We stopped off in Stockbridge where this picture was taken. We had just had lunch at Alice's Restaurant.

the perils of being a soccer fan

I love the sport. I do. I grew up on it. I've already written about why I love it. There's something absolutely magical about going to a match and following a team. I don't think there's anything unique about my feelings. Talk to any fan. Any sport. Any thing, really. A die hard baseball fan will tell you about the joy they encounter while at a game. Regardless of park and teams playing. Talk to a musical theater fanatic and they will tell you about how amazing it is to see a show. Regardless of whether it's on Broadway or in their local high school gym.

That's how I feel about soccer.

But I'm also a fan. I also want my team to do well. I want the boys in light blue of Napoli to make me proud. And do they?

No.

At least not lately.

Today the boys lost to Roma. And is pisses me off. I know I need to not take it personally. These things happen. Teams lose. But this particular concoction of players are individually quite talented. And usually when individually talented players get together some good things can happen, regardless of egos and outsized personalities. (I'm looking at every Brazilian national team ever.) Not so with these guys. I just finished watching the match and it felt like my niece's travel league of 9 year olds were playing Roma. Honestly though, Roma looked like a slightly more organized high school team with a couple good shots on goal and then a tightened up defense.

In other words, this game was not a pretty one.

It also most likely marks the end of Roberto Donadoni as manager for Napoli. If managers were scored on looking amazing in suits - Donadoni would be tops. The guy cuts a fine figure in his exquisitely tailored suit on the side lines. No, really. He's a good looking guy.


But unfortunately, that's not enough. I like the guy. I like his laid back appearance. But something has not been cutting it. Maybe he just lacks the fire. Exhibit A is his experience as National Team coach during Euro 2008. Maybe he's not inspiring his players. I watch a lot of Friday Night Lights and it has taught me all I care to know about American football. And one thing it demonstrates is the power of inspiring coaching. If Coach Taylor was managing Napoli, those boys would be having emotional breakthroughs everyday on the pitch that can only improve their game. Even if Matt Saracen gets benched.

But I digress.

Donadoni is probably out. And maybe that's a good thing. The season is still early. Last year at this time, Napoli was on fire. At one point they were actually in first place. It's time to shake things up. And maybe that shaking involves a coach who can inspire. My dream pick: Robert Mancini.

He also looks good on the pitch in a suit. But I loved his work with Inter. I also remember watching him play with Sampdoria when I was a kid.

On a total side note, I am going to jump on the "BRING CASSANO TO THE NATIONAL TEAM" bandwagon. I'll be secretary. Seriously, the man is inventive in a way that so few players are. Sure, he's got a past of "Attitude problems." He wrote a book talking about how he basically didn't care about what people told him to do when he was younger. But, um, Sampdoria is at the top of the table. And it's because of him. They beat the unbeatable Inter. And it's because of him. And, well, the Italian national team needs some flair and attitude.



You won't get that from smiley Cannavaro or Buffon or any of the other national team mainstays.

But these frustrations, these anxiety inducing mornings, the mood setting experiences for the end of the weekend are what being a soccer fan is about. It's why I signed up. The agony of watching your team struggle and then (ideally, hopefully) win gloriously is why I keep watching. Again, it's not unique to me. It's not unique to this sport. But it's my experience.

And maybe next week I'll be writing about a completely revived Napoli.

Or not.

It's amazing what you can find

These two boxes had been in my parent's basement, (well, my basement) as long as I can remember. In fact, the address label on the box said 1968.

It appears my grandmother bought them. They were ordered through I tried a google search to see what I could come up with for Signet China. And apparently there is a lot. But I was under the impression it was a catalog as well. I will keep investigating.

But we have the address label.






And a warning to be careful.


And the boxes are actually sort of cool.

I remember seeing the boxes when I was a kid. They had always been in the basement taking up space. My dad would get annoyed because they were in the wine cellar portion of the basement. And took up space. I remember being told at some point the dishes were mine. That my mom had picked them out for me. Or maybe that was my interpretation. I mean, I was probably about 10.

Clearly since the dishes were bought way, way before I was born (nine years), they were not bought for me. My grandmother bought them and had them sent to my parent's house. For whatever reason, she did not give them to the intended person and my mom held on to them. Nine years later when a little girl was born (moi), it was decided they would become part of my hope chest.

And voila.

It's kind of nutty. The craziest bit is that they are green. Green is my favorite color.

It's almost as if there is some sort of psychic intervention at play...