The second leg of our journey took us to Chicago land, more precisely to Ravinia Music Festival in Highland Park. The drive from Columbus was much easier though double the time.
Ravinia is unlike any outdoor theatre I have ever encountered. We were practically the only people without several coolers and lawn chairs. It appears that most people attend concerts here with the intention of hanging out with friends on the vast lawn. I was stunned by what people were allowed to bring onto the grounds. People had small tables, lawn chairs, and one guy was carrying a full case of beer.
Once again Squeeze opened, though I wasn't surprised by this seeing as Cheap Trick is from Chicago. The set list was exactly the same as the night before, except there was time for one encore - "Pulling Mussels." The guys were far more animated tonight than in Columbus. Chris was performing his customary Chris shuffle, John was all over the stage, and again Glenn was channeling Jimi Hendrix and at one point rubbed the guitar strings on the microphone stand.
Sartorially speaking, Glenn and Chris were in the same outfits as the night before, John was dressed in purple, Simon was Simon, and Stephen treated the crowd to his spectacles and a fetching red smoking jacket.
My seats were way far at the back of the pavilion, but not for long. By the end of "Annie Get Your Gun," we had moved to the third row from the stage. Much better than being in the third to last row.
It seems, however, that at Ravinia, security frowns at people dancing in the pavilion. Two women behind in me in my "new" seats were sternly lectured and security gave me a look, too. Well, once we got to "Good-Bye Girl," I paid that directive no mind and stood up to dance, and it seemed that Chris was urging me as he looked squarely at me, and motioned with his hands to stand up. I was, of course, promptly reprimanded and I think by this time Glenn had noticed. Two songs later, three people in the middle started dancing and once security pounced on the , one of the offenders was quite snippy and was removed.
The next song was to be "Cool for Cats." Before it started Chris said something to the effect of he saw the one fellow get tossed and that everyone should stand up and dance. We did for the rest of the show and there was nothing security could do!
Well, I have to head home tomorrow, though I wish that I could attend the Cleveland show. Now I'm thinking about Hamilton in August.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Night 1 - Spot the Difference Tour Squeeze
It's that time when I get to act on my favorite obsession, Glenn Tilbrook and Squeeze. They started the US leg of the Spot the Difference last night, Friday July 9 at the LC Ampitheatre in Columbus, Ohio. As usual, Laurie was Thelma to my Louise and of course we had VIP meet and greet tickets.
We pulled out of Hamtramck a little before 1:00. The ride down was harrowing at times due to the torrential rains that seems to follow us. It slowed down our travel considerably and I was (as I am wont to do) growing worried that we would miss the 5:15 deadline ominously conveyed in the VIP confirmation e-mail I had received a few days earlier. All my worries were for naught as Laurie safely delivered us to the Renaissance Downtown Columbus Hotel with 45 minutes to spare.
We quickly checked in, ran up to the room for a little freshening up, and a costume change. We were told that the venue was walking distance from the hotel, so we started afoot, but the weather turned foul once again and we opted for a cab.
We arrived 15 minutes before the 5:15 deadline and grabbed our tickets from will call. Sadly, the venue knew nothing about the meet and greet. They tried to find out and asked us to wait. So we waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. We waited an hour before a representative from the band finally came to retrieve us. She apologized profusely while taking us backstage.
As we hit the backstage area, the guys were finishing "If It's Love" in the sound check. The rain had stopped at this point. The band wandered back and immediately I could spot the difference between and Glenn Tilbrook meet and greet and a Squeeze meet and greet. A Glenn meet and greet is pretty free-wheeling while the one I experienced felt more constrained, even though no one was pushing us along. Perhaps it seemed less loose simply because it was the first night of the tour.
That said, there were several funny moments that stick out to me. The first occurred while chatting with Simon and Chris. Simon asked if I had a raincoat and I said no,but I had an umbrella. During this very brief and innocuous exchange, Chris gave Simon a slightly horrified look and said, "I thought you just asked her if she had a wanker."
I looked down at my skirt and replied, "I don't have one of those either."
Simon then insisted on telling me that a wanker is actually a bottle opener and that should I be in London, I should go in a pub and announce that I need a wanker. I told him that I was sure that every man in the bar would gladly volunteer.
The next funny moment happened shortly after Chris abruptly left. I asked where he had gone,. The band representative explained that he had gone to throw out the first pitch at the baseball at the stadium down the block. That wasn't what I heard. I swear she said he went to throw up. Glenn and John Bentley both chimed in that they had heard the same thing.
Finally, I asked Glenn and John if they would have a chance to watch the World Cup final on Sunday. Absolutely, they both smiled. John asked me who I thought would win and I said Holland and he agreed. This prompted Glenn to ask me if I had heard about the octopus in Germany that had accurately picked many of the games, including the game Germany lost to Spain. Something about the octopus (or squid) squirming around on something. Anyway, the octopus has chosen Spain as the champs.
Naturally, they had to leave, so we left to go find a spot in the general admission crowd. From the number of t-shirts, it was clear that this was a Cheap Trick crowd. The sun really broke through the clouds as the boys came on the stage and launched into "Black Coffee in Bed." Despite the heat, they were all properly attired in suits: Glenn in that lovely brown pin stripe suit her wore on Regis, Chris looked very chic in black with his shades, Stephen was dapper in a blue suit, Simon wore a vest, and John delivered the bass dressed in gray, topped with a fedora.
The rest of show was peppered with songs I hadn't heard live like "When the Hangover Strikes" and a D & T song "When Hope Fell Down." The complete 17 song set is at the end of this post. They were tight and on fire. Glenn played like the guitar god he is, duly impressing many of the nearby Cheap Trick fans. In the middle of his solo for "It's So Dirty" the two guys next to me turned to each other and said "this guy is fucking great."
As the opening act, they had no encore, so it's off to Chicago.
Play List
Black Coffee in Bed
Take Me I'm Yours
Annie Take Your Gun
When the Hangover Strikes
Loving You Tonight
If It's Love
It's So Dirty
Goodbye Girl
When Hope Fell Down
If I Didn't Love You
Cool for Cats
Is That Love
Someone Else's Heart
Up the Junction
Hourglass
Slap and Tickle
Tempted
We pulled out of Hamtramck a little before 1:00. The ride down was harrowing at times due to the torrential rains that seems to follow us. It slowed down our travel considerably and I was (as I am wont to do) growing worried that we would miss the 5:15 deadline ominously conveyed in the VIP confirmation e-mail I had received a few days earlier. All my worries were for naught as Laurie safely delivered us to the Renaissance Downtown Columbus Hotel with 45 minutes to spare.
We quickly checked in, ran up to the room for a little freshening up, and a costume change. We were told that the venue was walking distance from the hotel, so we started afoot, but the weather turned foul once again and we opted for a cab.
We arrived 15 minutes before the 5:15 deadline and grabbed our tickets from will call. Sadly, the venue knew nothing about the meet and greet. They tried to find out and asked us to wait. So we waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. We waited an hour before a representative from the band finally came to retrieve us. She apologized profusely while taking us backstage.
As we hit the backstage area, the guys were finishing "If It's Love" in the sound check. The rain had stopped at this point. The band wandered back and immediately I could spot the difference between and Glenn Tilbrook meet and greet and a Squeeze meet and greet. A Glenn meet and greet is pretty free-wheeling while the one I experienced felt more constrained, even though no one was pushing us along. Perhaps it seemed less loose simply because it was the first night of the tour.
That said, there were several funny moments that stick out to me. The first occurred while chatting with Simon and Chris. Simon asked if I had a raincoat and I said no,but I had an umbrella. During this very brief and innocuous exchange, Chris gave Simon a slightly horrified look and said, "I thought you just asked her if she had a wanker."
I looked down at my skirt and replied, "I don't have one of those either."
Simon then insisted on telling me that a wanker is actually a bottle opener and that should I be in London, I should go in a pub and announce that I need a wanker. I told him that I was sure that every man in the bar would gladly volunteer.
The next funny moment happened shortly after Chris abruptly left. I asked where he had gone,. The band representative explained that he had gone to throw out the first pitch at the baseball at the stadium down the block. That wasn't what I heard. I swear she said he went to throw up. Glenn and John Bentley both chimed in that they had heard the same thing.
Finally, I asked Glenn and John if they would have a chance to watch the World Cup final on Sunday. Absolutely, they both smiled. John asked me who I thought would win and I said Holland and he agreed. This prompted Glenn to ask me if I had heard about the octopus in Germany that had accurately picked many of the games, including the game Germany lost to Spain. Something about the octopus (or squid) squirming around on something. Anyway, the octopus has chosen Spain as the champs.
Naturally, they had to leave, so we left to go find a spot in the general admission crowd. From the number of t-shirts, it was clear that this was a Cheap Trick crowd. The sun really broke through the clouds as the boys came on the stage and launched into "Black Coffee in Bed." Despite the heat, they were all properly attired in suits: Glenn in that lovely brown pin stripe suit her wore on Regis, Chris looked very chic in black with his shades, Stephen was dapper in a blue suit, Simon wore a vest, and John delivered the bass dressed in gray, topped with a fedora.
The rest of show was peppered with songs I hadn't heard live like "When the Hangover Strikes" and a D & T song "When Hope Fell Down." The complete 17 song set is at the end of this post. They were tight and on fire. Glenn played like the guitar god he is, duly impressing many of the nearby Cheap Trick fans. In the middle of his solo for "It's So Dirty" the two guys next to me turned to each other and said "this guy is fucking great."
As the opening act, they had no encore, so it's off to Chicago.
Play List
Black Coffee in Bed
Take Me I'm Yours
Annie Take Your Gun
When the Hangover Strikes
Loving You Tonight
If It's Love
It's So Dirty
Goodbye Girl
When Hope Fell Down
If I Didn't Love You
Cool for Cats
Is That Love
Someone Else's Heart
Up the Junction
Hourglass
Slap and Tickle
Tempted
Thursday, July 1, 2010
A Lasting Lagacy
A Lasting Legacy
I am at the age where I occasionally think about the end.
Inevitably, I think about how I want to be remembered.
Realistically, I understand that people will most vividly remember those last years;
So how to make those memorable?
There must be a word out there that describes the type
Of older woman I aspire to be.
The type whose grown son says,
“Mom, stop flirting with the waiter, he’s my age.”
To which I’ll reply, “But he started it.”
The type who travels the world, on her own self-guided tour
And ends up assisting in the building a school for girls in some remote village.
I ask four friends, each of whom gives me a different word.
“Plucky,” says the first. I hang up the phone and
Walk into the kitchen to retrieve the wine from the fridge.
No, I decide. It sounds too much like a puppy rescued from
A life on the streets.
“Spunky,” reads the message on my phone.
Oh no! I can’t even think of anything spunk related
Without giggling like a teenager.
A third friend offers up “perky”.
I contemplate it until I step out of the shower
And duly note that my figure has moved from
Star gazing to navel gazing.
Finally, my dearest friend suggests “moxie.”
Images of matinis, jazz bands and enticing hemlines
Swirl in front of my eyes.
Late nights filled fine meals eaten in front of fireplaces, chatting
With clever people.
Skateboarding with the grandkids before a bedtime snack
Of chocolate cake.
When that day does come, please be sure the epitaph reads
“Sister, she had moxie.”
I am at the age where I occasionally think about the end.
Inevitably, I think about how I want to be remembered.
Realistically, I understand that people will most vividly remember those last years;
So how to make those memorable?
There must be a word out there that describes the type
Of older woman I aspire to be.
The type whose grown son says,
“Mom, stop flirting with the waiter, he’s my age.”
To which I’ll reply, “But he started it.”
The type who travels the world, on her own self-guided tour
And ends up assisting in the building a school for girls in some remote village.
I ask four friends, each of whom gives me a different word.
“Plucky,” says the first. I hang up the phone and
Walk into the kitchen to retrieve the wine from the fridge.
No, I decide. It sounds too much like a puppy rescued from
A life on the streets.
“Spunky,” reads the message on my phone.
Oh no! I can’t even think of anything spunk related
Without giggling like a teenager.
A third friend offers up “perky”.
I contemplate it until I step out of the shower
And duly note that my figure has moved from
Star gazing to navel gazing.
Finally, my dearest friend suggests “moxie.”
Images of matinis, jazz bands and enticing hemlines
Swirl in front of my eyes.
Late nights filled fine meals eaten in front of fireplaces, chatting
With clever people.
Skateboarding with the grandkids before a bedtime snack
Of chocolate cake.
When that day does come, please be sure the epitaph reads
“Sister, she had moxie.”
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
My Presentation
I am beginning to get that anxious, nauseous feeling. In about a week and a half, I have to make a presentation about some writing lesson that I have actually taught that was successful. Therein lies the problem. I am not at all certain that I have ever had a successful writing lesson. For the presentation, I must even have the research that supports my lesson. That is a laugh. No logical person would operate his/her classroom the way I operate mine - on the fly and completely half-assed. Nope I have no idea what I am going to do.
That's kind of a lie. I have a topic, I guess. The children books that my Creative Writing class did. Of course, we never quite finished because I didn't plan properly and we ran out of time. I guess I can find something about older kids mentoring younger kids and motivating students. That might be a place to start. Other than that, I'm lost and my presentation will likely be the weakest in the room.
Baaaaahhhhh. I'm having a pity party and all I need to complete the ambiance are some busted balloons and flat beer.
That's kind of a lie. I have a topic, I guess. The children books that my Creative Writing class did. Of course, we never quite finished because I didn't plan properly and we ran out of time. I guess I can find something about older kids mentoring younger kids and motivating students. That might be a place to start. Other than that, I'm lost and my presentation will likely be the weakest in the room.
Baaaaahhhhh. I'm having a pity party and all I need to complete the ambiance are some busted balloons and flat beer.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Writing project
As I have mentioned earlier, I am participating in the National Writing Project institute at Eastern Michigan this summer. It is a four week, five days a week, from 9-3 program in which teachers from all content areas and grade levels share writing lessons based on research. What I am enjoying most right now is the opportunity to write, a lot, everyday.
Each morning starts with a writing prompt on which we write about 10 minutes. So far, all of the prompts have really struck a chord with me. I hope that you don't mind if I occasionally mine these for topics.
The prompt for the first day was, if you had to tell you life story in seven story titles, what would those titles be? Here are my seven titles:
1. Creep
2. Bizarre Love Triangle
3. I Didn't Know That There Would Be This Much Paperwork
4. Import/Export
5. Outsourcing Labor
6. Maple Keys and Airbus A380s
7. The Great Reawakening
What would be the seven titles of your life?
Each morning starts with a writing prompt on which we write about 10 minutes. So far, all of the prompts have really struck a chord with me. I hope that you don't mind if I occasionally mine these for topics.
The prompt for the first day was, if you had to tell you life story in seven story titles, what would those titles be? Here are my seven titles:
1. Creep
2. Bizarre Love Triangle
3. I Didn't Know That There Would Be This Much Paperwork
4. Import/Export
5. Outsourcing Labor
6. Maple Keys and Airbus A380s
7. The Great Reawakening
What would be the seven titles of your life?
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Two poems
One way that I figure I can work up my self-confidence about publishing is to try and publish a poem. One poem published would make me feel as I have never felt in my life.
Here are two that I've recently composed. Tell me what you think.
Rain
Early morning rain
Hastens sleepy desires
Pillow calls me back
Melting
From the eaves,
remnants of long removed ivy
are visible.
One slender icicle
d
a
n
g
l
e
s
from a stubbornly clingy vine
like a mobile.
The shimmering sun glistens through
its facets, beautifully destroying its form.
We, too, dangle and will succumb to
the formalities illuminated by the light.
Here are two that I've recently composed. Tell me what you think.
Rain
Early morning rain
Hastens sleepy desires
Pillow calls me back
Melting
From the eaves,
remnants of long removed ivy
are visible.
One slender icicle
d
a
n
g
l
e
s
from a stubbornly clingy vine
like a mobile.
The shimmering sun glistens through
its facets, beautifully destroying its form.
We, too, dangle and will succumb to
the formalities illuminated by the light.
Monday, June 21, 2010
What a school year!
I'm always one of the last people on staff to finish all my grades. I am endlessly disorganized and suffer completely from self-diagnosed ADHD. If I can find an activity, no matter how mundane, that does not involve grading papers, I'm there. Well, almost any activity. I am now in the midst of cleaning my house. I have just located the corner of the dining room side board (I think it's called that). It had been buried under a massive pile of papers for most of the school year. I'd like to publicly apologize to my son for allowing the house to become a pig sty. Of course, this is all he knows, so a mess is normal.
I've chronicled some of the events that happened this past school year. I've flipped out over the testing pressure we were all feeling. I've mentioned the fights. But good things did happen. Here are just a few.
My student teacher kicked ass. That's such an 80s thing to say, but it's true. He comes to the profession a little older (31) than most college grads and with tons of crappy job experience. He understands the value of an education and the dull monotony of dead-end jobs. I think that his passion for the job comes from his "real world" experiences. An English teacher from our school retired and while he might not get that job, if he doesn't get a job somewhere in the district, I will shake my head forelorningly (not a word, I don't care) for ages and ages hence.
My friends Laurie, Laura, and John kept me sane when I was most likely to lose all hope. They are like family to me and I would just die if any of them abandoned me at the high school. Thankfully, in two weeks Laurie accompanies me to Columbus and Chicago to see Squeeze and we have meet and greet tickets for the Columbus show. That's right Glenn Tilbrook, I'm looking at you, longingly with desire warming my soul.
Uhhh anyway, I also made new friends. For one, there's the English teacher who I had previously categorized as straight-laced. I learned better one evening over Bloody Marys as we debated the proper spelling of the adverbial form of the word "fucking." It's a great word and I'll post my thoughts on it later. Additionally, I can't forget the teacher who taught me how to play Keno while spiking my Bailey's with his Irish Catholic/Irish Protestant/Irish Buddhist whiskey. Yeah, but he plans on taking a job at the middle school next year (where, they aren't even human), so he's dead to me.
Finally, I have an awesome new Executive Board for next year's Student Council. If they can stay focused, they will give the class of 2002 a run for their top class title.
My summer starts in earnest today. I'm cleaning and straightening while I write. The National Writing project at Eastern Michigan starts on Thursday. After that, I'll be tied up with Creative Writing camp. I want to take Andrew somewhere, anywhere this summer - even for just a weekend. In the meantime, I better get back to the household chores that I've been neglecting since September.
I've chronicled some of the events that happened this past school year. I've flipped out over the testing pressure we were all feeling. I've mentioned the fights. But good things did happen. Here are just a few.
My student teacher kicked ass. That's such an 80s thing to say, but it's true. He comes to the profession a little older (31) than most college grads and with tons of crappy job experience. He understands the value of an education and the dull monotony of dead-end jobs. I think that his passion for the job comes from his "real world" experiences. An English teacher from our school retired and while he might not get that job, if he doesn't get a job somewhere in the district, I will shake my head forelorningly (not a word, I don't care) for ages and ages hence.
My friends Laurie, Laura, and John kept me sane when I was most likely to lose all hope. They are like family to me and I would just die if any of them abandoned me at the high school. Thankfully, in two weeks Laurie accompanies me to Columbus and Chicago to see Squeeze and we have meet and greet tickets for the Columbus show. That's right Glenn Tilbrook, I'm looking at you, longingly with desire warming my soul.
Uhhh anyway, I also made new friends. For one, there's the English teacher who I had previously categorized as straight-laced. I learned better one evening over Bloody Marys as we debated the proper spelling of the adverbial form of the word "fucking." It's a great word and I'll post my thoughts on it later. Additionally, I can't forget the teacher who taught me how to play Keno while spiking my Bailey's with his Irish Catholic/Irish Protestant/Irish Buddhist whiskey. Yeah, but he plans on taking a job at the middle school next year (where, they aren't even human), so he's dead to me.
Finally, I have an awesome new Executive Board for next year's Student Council. If they can stay focused, they will give the class of 2002 a run for their top class title.
My summer starts in earnest today. I'm cleaning and straightening while I write. The National Writing project at Eastern Michigan starts on Thursday. After that, I'll be tied up with Creative Writing camp. I want to take Andrew somewhere, anywhere this summer - even for just a weekend. In the meantime, I better get back to the household chores that I've been neglecting since September.
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