Bright Lights, Big Cities - Toronto

It doesn't matter how often I go or what time of year it is when I arrive, a trip home to Toronto still gives me butterflies. Our visit was planned around the kids' spring break and a series of gigs Kevin put together. It was like the travel gods and the gig fairy met at Starbucks up in the heavens for a latte and decided to smile down at us. It all worked out!

The drive to Canada was relatively smooth, considering we got a late start. I was needed at work and had a bunch of things to get ready for an upcoming event. Had anyone in the office known our server was going to temporarily blow up while I was gone, I'm sure my PTO days would not have been approved. Anyhow, we arrived at our friend Chris' house quite late but managed to find her key in its secret hiding spot and tumble into bed by 2 am.

It was so strange to wake up in someone else's home in another country! Know what that's like? You have to stop and mentally recount your voyage just to make sure you aren't hallucinating. At least I do. It's probably leftover from my college years...

Up early, we didn't waste a second meeting up with friends and family. That's how it always is. Every trip we SWEAR we aren't going to over do it, over schedule ourselves and spread the Clark love too thin. And, every year we do. But, this time it didn't feel quite as crazy. A trip to Kensington Market was first on the agenda. It's one of my very favorite hang outs. The plan was to look for some cool tees, buy something fresh to eat and people watch. I'd never seen so many people in such a small radius!

Seeing as this was also Easter weekend (I guess the holiday muse met up with the other two at Starbucks!) I was prepared for weird weather. There were many times I traveled home from New Orleans at Easter with sandals and shorts on, only to be greeted with falling snow. This time however, I brought sweaters, jackets and boots. But, for absolutely no reason. It was hot in Toronto. So hot in fact, I was convinced I was witness to the effects of global warming right there in the market. Unbelievable!

I know I'd spent far too much time in the bible belt that is North Carolina cause I had forgotten that Toronto is a region that celebrates many holidays. And, stays open for them too. I knew Charlotte was going to be a virtual ghost town on Good Friday, except for church parking lots. Worried that stores might not be open, I was hesitant we'd find anything to do. Ha! The place was jammin', with grilled seafood being served up right on the street, musicians everywhere and people packed in the park. Again, hadn't seen so many people side by side in quite a while.

After lunch and visiting with friends and family, it was time for another adventure. I was going to meet up with a few friends from high school at a restaurant in the next town. Thanks to social media, I had learned that another friend living in the US was also traveling to TO and we decided to grab a drink together. She let others from high school know and before long, we had ourselves a mini reunion. It was great fun. Bizarre, but fun. You know how some people never change? Sometimes that is so true, as is the case of the friend from the US. She was as nutty as ever. Hilarious, outspoken, warm and outrageous, but still capable of eliciting a jaw-drop at any time.

We were racking up the miles on the car and had dinner plans with more friends at the other end of the city. Though it's definitely not my favorite restaurant, no trip to TO is complete without spaghetti at the Tulip. Our friends Job and Zarica and their daughter Ava joined us and Chris for dinner. The spaghetti was exactly the same. So were the super smelly washrooms. The place is always packed so they cannot be hurting for money. Someone ought to tell them to invest in a new sewer system!

Though I was exhausted, I had promised my brother we'd meet him for yet another drink. Kevin had also made plans to sit in with a few friends at a club downtown so it was going to be another 2 am night. I can't even remember the last time I'd done that in the past YEAR, and here I was pulling two late nights off in a row. I met my brother and his "friend" at a pub in our old hood, which was great. I was glad to see that she was quite good at poking fun at him. He definitely needs it. Again, another person in my life who remains consistent. He too is outrageous, hilarious and outspoken. The warm part, hmmm... jury is still out.

Now it was close to 11 pm and I was so ready for bed. But, Kevin really wanted to see some guys he used to play with, so off we went to the Pantages hotel. It's a chic little lounge, where pianist Robert Scott and drummer Great Bob Scott (no relation) did their thing. They were thrilled to see Kev and have him sit in. I settled in with a soda water and enjoyed listening to my husband play. He's a different person when he's got his horn... Just as he was getting ready to say goodbye, in walks man-about-town and jazz DJ, Jaymz Bee, with 20 or so jazz fans on one of the infamous Jazz Safaris. Watching Jaymz's reaction to seeing Kevin playing was priceless. His eyes bugged out and he furiously starting whispering to all the jazz fans. I knew at that exact moment that we weren't going anywhere!

Somehow we managed to get ourselves back home and to bed, but this time it was past 2 am. Thankfully, I didn't have to get up too early. Chris had shopped for us which meant we were going to feast that next morning. We had a lazy breakfast, then made our plans for the day. Cyre was going to spend the day and night with her friend Ava and Chris, Keller and I were driving to Guelph to meet up with Lydia and her daughter. Kev had a gig in Waterloo and was looking forward to all the accolades he was due for.

It was a long haul but great to see Lydia and Evelyn. She still has the same dry wit, wicked sense of humor that I so depend on. We managed to find ourselves some excellent Asian cuisine in town and cruised a few vintage shops while there. I never seem to have enough time to spend with Lydia but I am content to steal them whenever I can. She and I have been through so much together in our personal lives and I know we'll always remain friends.

As the afternoon faded away, I was glad to be back on the road to Toronto and was ready for a little down time. We planned dinner at a nearby restaurant with another super close friend, Deb and her son Henrique. Derrick was also going to join us. I just couldn't imagine a trip to TO without spending tons of time with my man! It was fantastic to catch up with Deb, watch Keller laugh with Henrique and eat delicious tapas. I try and eat as much ethnic food as I possibly can when I go home cause I just can't get as much in Charlotte. After dinner we went back to Chris' place for more wine. It was an awesome night and I managed to get in bed by midnight.

Sunday morning we dropped Kev off at his gig at the Distillery and headed to the One of a Kind Show. I had forgotten that the shopping gods were also with us!!! Yes, I was going to be in town for my absolute favorite retail experience!!!! Tickets to the event weren't expensive but the $3.75 bottle of freakin tap water was a shock to my system. "I hope it's from the bloody Nile" was all I could come up with when I was given the bill. The poor girl working behind the counter apologized, like somehow she was responsible for the gouging. Whatever.

Birthday gifts were found for both Kevin and Keller, and Chris and I drooled over all the gorgeous handmade clothing and crafts. Of course no trip to the One of a Kind show could ever be complete without sampling a chutney, a veggie dip or a handmade piece of chocolate something-or-other. I just couldn't believe my luck! Thank you, gods.

We picked up Cyre and Kevin and headed north to see my brother and sister-in-law which meant more fantastic food, lots of laughs, a comfortable bed and a walk in the woods. Now this is the part of the trip I never prepare for. You would think I'd know to bring one crappy pair of pants and some totally un-adorable pair of boots. But no, I always end of borrowing clothes and footwear from someone else. Jo-anne joined us and she and Sharon planned a dinner that included presents and birthday cake for the boys. It's at these moments I miss my family most; when we're sitting around the dinner table swapping stories and laughs.

As always, it was too soon before we said goodbye and headed back to the city. We had made plans to spend a night with our good friends Chris, Leigh and Jasper. But, before we made it to their place, we stopped in to see Steven and Mary Frances. Mary looks totally different every time I see her. I guess that's the beauty of being a teen. You can change your look, your music, your muses and your identity at random without anyone thinking anything of it. If only adults had that freedom!

It was starting to feel a bit nutty at this point and I was ready to stay put for at least one day. We planned on spending at least 24 hours with the Lamonts. They had just been to Charlotte a couple of months before and we couldn't wait to see them again. Their son Jasper is the cutest thing with a totally serious side and a wacky toddler sense of humor. It's a delicious combo! We had another great meal, set the kids up with some TV and built us a fire in the backyard. To be sitting outside at night in early April in Canada without freezing our asses off was very, very strange. It made me a little nervous. However, copious amounts of wine helped.

The next day we took a walk around Etobicoke and stopped by the lake for a view. That's one thing about Toronto that makes me sad. The lake always seems like an afterthought, not an integral part of the city. You know, "let's have a look," rather than "OMG look at that magnificent body of water!" I really cannot imagine it ever getting the attention it deserves. Not in my lifetime.

Chris and Leigh live close to High Park and we always try and spend time here so we can eat at our favorite Polish restaurant. Cyre's second most favorite food is perogies and Polonez makes some of the best. I ordered Borscht, which pretty much grosses everyone else out. I do love beets but it's the idea of ordering something that's readily not available anywhere in the south which secretly makes me happy. After a lovely lunch and a trip to a couple of vintages stores (score on the groovy blue leather boots!), we bid adieu to the Lamonts and headed over to our friends Benj and Pascale's place.

Kev had a gig at the Old Mill and I was going to take Cyre along. Keller was thrilled to be spending the evening with boys, doing boy things like playing soccer. My oldest friend Klara (I'm talking years, not age) and her beau were going to meet us, as was my brother Michael. I was looking forward to hearing some more great music. The show was a CD release party for a female singer. The band was great but the leading lady was not. It was like watching "April" from Glee get bombed and putting on a variety show; only Kristen Chenilworth can really sing and this babe could not. There were moments that were absolutely cring-worthy, and they had nothing to do with the band. Oh well. It was great spending time with my big brother and one of my bestest girlfriends. And, it was so exciting to take Cyre along, to a very adult evening. She behaved magnificently and managed to not be too bored.

We managed to get home by a decent hour and to bed almost early. which was a nice change. Kev had to be up early for a clinic and the kids and I had plans to head downtown to spend the day with my sister Jo. We were going to have breakfast together and then hit the mall for some shopping. It was amazing to walk past my old university and see how much it's changed. But, nothing prepared me for Dundas Square. It really is trying to be a mini Times Square and it's succeeding. Even the all-cross traffic lights were something to marvel at. It just didn't feel like the Toronto I knew.

Unfortunately, by mid day I started to feel ill and we wound day our big day. All the dashing from one end of the city to the other must have caught up with me and I was in desperate need of a nap. After many hugs, we said goodbye to auntie Jo and headed back west. Thankfully, Benj and Pascale have a ginormous house and I was able to get some rest. We had planned a dinner together with our friends which again always includes amazing food. Thank god our friends know we are total foodies! Waheeda had just arrived back home after an amazing trip down under and managed to sneak over for a few hours. Before I knew it, I was parked in front of subway saying goodbye to my buddy way sooner than I wanted to. But, I know she'll be down to see us before long.

We packed our bags that night and prepared for the second part of the trip, to another big city with bright lights... NYC. That, however, will have to be another blog entry.

The Only Gay Eskimo in my Tribe

My heart is a little broken. I knew this day would come, I just didn't think it would get here so suddenly, and I'm a bit confused on how to deal with it. Finding one's own identity is tough. Just ask my eight year old boy. He's a brilliant, funny, obsessive weird little dude, and I say that with the most love a mother can muster. Despite the fact that most adults absolutely love him, most kids do not get him. It never bothered him until now, when the awareness of who we or he in this case, are in relation to others. It has finally sunk in. He is not like the others.

Every parent wants their kid to shine, to be a bright star in their own world. Who doesn't want their child to be loved, have a butt load of friends, be asked to all the birthday parties and called on to play on someones team? I do. Keller should have all of these things, and yet, does not. It's certainly not for lack of trying. He isn't mean, a disgusting booger eater, or a jerk. Well, on occasion he acts like a jerk. He marches to his own drum and lots of kids don't hear it.

First of all, he looks different. His hair is longish, and usually not brushed and stringy because he spends so much time outside chasing after imaginary Dutch soldiers. Keller's favorite outfit consists of a pair of blue khaki pants that are too short with worn out knees, his old dress shoes a.k.a. "hobo shoes", a grey army shirt with tiny holes around the neck from chewing on it, and a dress jacket that makes him feel like James Bond. And, a belt. He ALWAYS has a belt on, usually pulled too tight. He likes the outfit cause he can stuff toy guns, lucky charms and his M6 identity card in all the pockets. He is happy when he wears this outfit, so I let it go. He isn't allowed to wear it to school or church or out in public, really. But when we're home and he's just going to save the world, I let him have at it.

Keller acts different, which is the biggest reason why kids don't always relate. He obsesses about many things including Egypt, mummies, weapons, wars, littering and whatever television show his sister is into. Hie is very sensitive and his feelings are easily hurt when he is slighted. I know how hurt he is because it usually ends with him whispering in my ear about a not-so-nice situation. Bedtime means plenty of snuggling and serious talks about school, troubling encounters with classmates or a specific scene in a Batman movie that I've seen a bazillion times and don't really care to hear about again, but which totally gets him going. It's much.

If you didn't know him, you would think he is nothing but a know-it-all. Sometimes he acts like an annoying smarty pants, but mostly he's just a walking encyclopedia who is dying to share new things he has learned with anyone who will listen. I often think he just needs to get it out so he can make room in his brain to fill up with more knowledge. Some kids in his school slot him under the annoying know-it-all category. Others think he is a bore or too smart for his own good. Some are in awe of his brain, but they usually don't say much. I think he has a tough go at school.

I know he does. There are a group of kids, boys and girls, who have been making fun of him for the past few weeks, telling him he is worthless and that no one wants to be his friend. He is, of course, priceless. But the truth is, he doesn't have too many friends at school. He has one buddy in a higher grade with whom he hangs with. But their friendship is somewhat dictated by the fact that his parents and grandparents are friends of ours.

Last week as I was tucking Keller in bed, he told me about the kids telling him he was worthless. I of course wanted to march to school and flick them in the side of their heads, but refrained. What I did tell him was that tons of people think he is cool. And then, it came out out of his mouth, like a sad truth we never want to face. "No I'm not; I'm a geek," he answered. As much as it broke my heart, I knew it was sorta true. He is weirdly book smart. He dresses strange.

"Not everyone will get you. Not everyone will be your kind of people," I answered. "And, you cannot worry about them. Just know that many, many people love you that will grow as you get older." It's the best I could come up with on the fly and it is the truth. Thankfully, he sort of accepted that. It's going to be a little lonely for him but he'll manage. He'll learn from it and something great will come out of it.

For example - there's a hilarious song from a defunct Toronto band named Corky and the Juice Pigs, that sums up this feeling. "The Only Gay Eskimo in my Tribe" is one of the saddest, funniest songs I've ever heard. Every time this band played this tune, it would send the audience into hysterics. I loved it too, but not just because it was so weird, but because it was sung with such conviction, I had to believe there was some true feelings behind it. I do not think my son is gay and he is definitely not an Eskimo. He is often lonely and misunderstood. But one day he will laugh with the world ,and honor loneliness and being different. I cannot wait.

My Tween is Like, Almost a Teen. Seriously.

Today my daughter has taken another skip toward teendom. Toward the era of darkness, as my boy so wisely predicts. Her 12th birthday is exciting for her, bittersweet for me. I've had an entire year to consider her maturity, the changes she will experience, the excitement, the agony that begins for both her and her parents. And yet, it snuck up on me. Damn.

I spent the week thinking about how to celebrate this birthday. Should I take her out for a nice meal? Should we do the typical trip to the mall? A meal at home with the family wasn't in the cards. Hubby was gigging and I had an appointment around dinnertime. I wanted it to be special. She had talked about a sleepover or a night time party, but her best buddy was out of town and so the party would have to wait.

As the day neared, we scrambled to get her the most important gift of all, a cell phone. As much as I dreaded the foray into triple digit texting frenzy, she was now of the age where she could stay after school for football games. This meant another step toward independence for her, which means we had to find a way to stay tethered without her feeling or knowing it; a cell phone, unfortunately, is a solution. Let the texting begin! I am afraid. Her best friend sent over 100 messages HER first day. What on earth could they say???

I soon found out. Immediately after picking her up from school I was told she'd been invited to a movie with her friends. We would go pick up her phone so she could text, not call, and get the details. We headed out to her favorite bakery where we indulged ourselves with pastries and text messages. Yes, we sat directly across from each other and texted our plans for the rest of the day. As ridiculous as it was, I went along with it. Kids today! As weird as it seems, it makes her happy and feel connected. To me it seems like a total disconnect but what do I know?

On the way to pick up her brother, we took a detour to a home decor/consignment store which was great fun. We found a dresser and a cool table for the foyer. And some great chairs, outdoor set and a pinball machine. We didn't walk out with any of those items, but instead purchased a $2 pair of purple earrings for Cyre. Happy Birthday!

Next on the agenda was a visit to the doctor. The kids were great. They played with toys, read books and played with cell phones Sometimes technology had its moments and this was one of them. If it could keep the peace for an hour, then I was down with it.

We grabbed homemade pasta and Chinese at the grocery, a movie to watch and headed home. We had only moments before the texting began. Where, when, how would she meet her friends? The constant beeping indicated a new text was just received was enough to develop a new tick. And this was day one...

As I pulled into the movie theater and saw her friends huddled together with laughter, it hit me. She had crossed into another time zone, another stage, the era of darkness. This was a huge moment. Remember your first "alone" movie with friends? I do. Westwood Theater, Etobicoke. That was hard to swallow.

At least I still had my boy. We celebrated the evening with a dance/military/marine party. After wearing me out, Keller suggested we watch a movie with a "hero" which meant I could request James Bond. A win/win for everyone!

Shortly thereafter Cyre came home and answered a slew of "Happy Birthday" phone calls. She has since spent the rest of the evening setting up voice mail, texting and celebrating her new found youth.

A happy birthday indeed.

She's a Dancing Machine

Dancin, dancin, dancin!!! She's a dancin machin-ine...

That's right, I'm back at it. It's been a long 15 years or so since I've attended a dance class or hit the floor in a serious manner and it's wonderful. Part of the new year, new world order is that I take care of myself and do something just for me. Some folks buy gym memberships, hire personal trainers or train for marathons to get in shape. I'm doing the foxtrot, the rumba, the cha cha and the west coast swing.

Sure, I need to tone up, drop some pounds and get fit. But truthfully, I'm taking dance classes first and foremost because it makes me happy. Not just put a smile on my face happy, but singing inside, dance around like Snoopy, happy. Why have I let it go for so long if that's the result? Have I just been a miserable person for the past 15 years? I don't know and no. I haven't been unhappy for the past 15 years, but I could have been happier. And now I am.

Since moving to our home on Burtonwood, I pass by the Fred Astaire Dance Studio twice a day, going to and from work. And for the last six months, I've told myself I'm going to stop by and sign up for a class. But, life gets busy, the holidays were approaching, money got tight, time slipped away...shit happens.

It took a really busy week at work and an even busier weekend for me to get grumpy enough to take action. After complaining about my schedule for the umpteenth time, it dawned on me that only I could change things and that doing something completely for myself that would make me feel good in every way, was the ticket. I called and signed up for class.

Most of the folks taking classes are either young couples working on learning to put on a decent show at their wedding, older couples looking for some new element to add some spice to their lives, or single guys looking to improve their chances of meeting a chick. Oh, and a couple of single ladies looking for...I don't know. I can only speak for myself. Happiness.

And, as luck would have it, once again I have a dance teacher who has a fabulous Latin name and hips that do some serious damage. I fondly remember Fernando, the Fred Astaire of Chile who was so hot, even extreme hetro guys had to stare. My current teacher doesn't have quite the same effect, but he's got some incredible moves and is excited that I don't step on his toes too often. It's a good fit.

My husband does not love dancing, and understands that these classes are really just for me. He's not at all interested in coming to class and I'm sure totally relieved I haven't asked. However, once I told him about one of the female dancers who was showing everyone the west coast swing and forgot (I hope) that she was wearing a full skirt and a thong, and gave us all a FREE SHOW, his ears perked up. He may show up one day unexpectedly...

All this time learning to dance is going to help me more than physically. It's going to help me mentally as well. I'm forever being told to do something for myself, be nice to myself, and enjoy life. Learning to spend some money and time on just me is tough. I'm used to putting the kids first. Their lessons/activities always take precedent. But, all work and no play makes for a grumpy mummy and that doesn't make for a happy household. So, I'm learning to indulge. Just a little. I'm a dancin machine once again.

2010: The Countdown to Our Death

Just kidding. But that's what my kids were discussing last night, in light of the impending year 2012, signifying the end of the Mayan calendar,a new blockbuster movie, it's-the-end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it (thanks REM) 80s rock anthem and some other stuff. That was a mouthful, huh?

Actually, we had a wonderful NYE. And a busy, exciting Christmas. (That will have to be another post.) After working a full day (not planned, but necessary. Sort of.) I hurried home to find a house full of kids. Our dearest Heeda is visiting and was gracious enough to play child wrangler for the afternoon. I seriously owe her one. The kids are nearing the end of a two week at home period, and it was starting to get ugly, in a "I'm bored" kind of way. They both managed to swing play dates with friends and apparently spent the afternoon killing off the Dutch (imaginary...no offence, people), saluting neighbors, practicing their sharp shooter skills, playing on their DS games, dancing, and chasing each other. Wrangle on, Heeda, wrangle on.

Kev had been working all day and arrived shortly after I did. He was thrilled to have a few hours between gigs to rest, eat, shower and throw back a few beers. I caught up with events at home and played on my brand spankin new Crackberry. SIDE NOTE: This is a VERY dangerous development. I can take photos, upload music, facebook and respond to emails ANY time I like? Oh, and use the phone? It was more than once that W, husband and children had to remind me of their presence.

After a couple of hours, it was time to get ready for our evening out. I loaded up the kids, kissed the husband goodbye and drove off. We dropped off Keller's friend and headed east toward the most amazing Salvadorean restaurant ever. I had recently discovered the wonders of amazing coupon deals thanks to restaurant.com. Spend $10 ($6 if it's your first try) and get a $25 discount after spending a minimum of $35. Sounds complicated, but it's a total deal. I got two coupons and plan to go back for more.

The restaurant is unassuming, outside of the ginormous neon sign out front. El Pugarcito is now on my top five restaurants in the Queen City. The chicken tamales were the best I've ever had, beating out anything here, in TO and NYC. Their shrimp cocktail (it sounds better ordered in Spanish, but I can only remember French) is full of juicy, fresh salsa, huge chunks of avacado and huge shrimps. Keller ate them all, along with two beef tacos. I know, I still have no clue where he puts all the food...tape worm? Cyre had a pupusa and some of the sizzling hot fajitas W and I ordered. There was so much food left over, we took an entire meal home for the hubby. Hard to believe we ate all that, had two sodas and two beers and only paid $39. Total. Including tip. Seriously.

You would think we were stuffed and unable to eat one more thing, but no. We ate on. A quick trip over to Amelie's in NoDa meant we had to snarck back some french pastries. Have I ever mentioned their salted caramel brownies are dreamy? As my friend Leslie so wisely advises, "just smear it all over my body". Just as we were ready to go, I spotted my dear friend, Mr John Love. Have I mentioned he could quite possibly be the grooviest man in Charlotte? (outside of my husband, of course.) And, W was with me so she could totally confirm that he is the long lost, twin brother of another dear friend, John James, stylist and general raconteur, and resident of TO. These two just gotta meet!

The kids played dominoes, xs and os, etch a sketch and tag while W, John and I discussed meditation, goals for 2010, astrology, music, and internal plumbing. The cherry on top of the whipped cream? Crystal Dempsey, THE social media, social butterfly of Charlotte was there too. Yeah!!!We were close to wearing out our welcome and it was time to go. After a long goodbye, we got in the car and headed home.

It was time to watch the Times Square show and countdown to midnight. Cyre then reminded us that 2012 is only two years away, and perhaps it was time to start the countdown to our death. Yeah, OK. I tried to get everyone to focus on the television show which was a big mistake. Maybe it's cause I'm a honkey, but I don't get JayZ or Rhianna. And, they su-ucked. But, I always love watching the crowds and how excited people get, amazed at how long they will stand out in the cold, crappy weather wearing a "Happy New Year from Nivea cream" hat. That's when one of the cameras zoomed in on some European couple who proceeded not to kiss, but rather, swap spit, tongues and smash faces. "Lose the tongue people, it's a family show!" was all I could say.

Hubby came home in time to watch the countdown and quickly changed into his jammies. And start cooking. Of course. Keller then began his own minute-by-minute countdown, absolutely freaking out that we wouldn't be able to put on shoes, grab some pots and pans and make it out to the lawn in 20 minutes. Somehow we managed to make it to the last minute. Poor Alfie missed the countdown. Somehow he escaped outside and was desperately trying to get back in. After it hit midnight we did all run outside and made as much noise as possible. Kev light off the last of our firecrackers to which there was absolutely NO response from the neighbors. We really do live in a quiet, little sleepy hollow.

We ended the evening curled up on the pull-out bed, with a Harry Potter movie and a whole lotta popcorn. It was a joyous way to end the year.

Here's to 2010. And to the rest of our lives.

I am Thankful

Thanksgiving has come and gone which means my birthday is just around the corner. It's the perfect time to reflect on the past year and do a little inventory (which I can later analyze in my next therapy session) on what I am thankful.

In no particular order...

I am thankful for my in-laws and their beautiful beach house, which is the perfect getaway. (note to self - must go again this winter!)

I am thankful for my in-laws, kindred foodies, who shop, talk, swap and live food.

I am thankful for a fine car, which takes us to and fro throughout the southern US to visit friends and family. (I'm not always thankful though on the 5th of every month, when my car payment is due.)

I am thankful for toddlers, who exhaust my patience and expand my heart. Love to Landon, Cameron and Ella!

I am thankful for my children who request that we rent "An Inconvenient Truth" to watch and discuss global warning.

I am thankful that my son can quote Socrates, never mind even knows who the dude is.

I am thankful that my daughter never has to be told to practice her instrument, but picks it up spontaneously and is developing a beautiful sound.

I am thankful that my husband went to ten stores (so he says, maybe for dramatic effect?), tried eBay, Craigslist and Zappa, before finding me the perfect purse for my birthday.

I am thankful that my boss, who apparently has my number (figuratively, people) never calls me on it too often, but gently nudges me in the right direction despite it sometimes being out of my comfort zone. Thanks, Eve.

I am thankful for Facebook (do NOT insert your finger in your mouth out of disgust!) which allows me to follow old friends from high school (Dave Buchanan, you are groovier than I ever imagined), slightly less older friends from college (Forrest Dogger, Steve Brearton; ladies, you know who you are) and chums from the hood (Michelle Lawrie, stop playing frickin poker!).

I am thankful for the extremely cool folks I have met in Charlotte (too many to mention) who give me hope that this town is more than football, banking and pleated pants.

I am thankful for salted caramel brownies from Amelie's. Nuff said.

I am thankful for my husband who negotiated a case of wonderful, French Beaujolais wines as part of his payment for a recent gig. Cheers!

I am thankful to the Hornets Nest Girl Scouts troop who took me to do the "ropes", and allowed me to face my fear of heights, and learn to trust total strangers.

On the same note, I am thankful to Jay with the UUCC who encouraged me to participate in a Sunday service, and face my fear of public speaking.

I am thankful for my friend Melinda, who has faith in my abilities and never stops telling me so.

I am thankful for friends and family who juggle their lives and schedules to come visit us in Charlotte.

Thanks, all.

High Fidelity - Hero Style

"High Fidelity" is one of my favorite movies. It's wry, honest, angst y and totally cool. The main characters are absolute music snobs, something I have been accused of at certain periods of my life. Rob, played by John Cusack (pre leading-man-in-a-blockbuster attempt), sorts his life out via lists. (Something else I can totally relate to).

Though they seem to be dying a slow death, indie record stores still exist and their employees' antics were completely lifted by Nick Hornby. I've met a few of these guys in my time, but it has been years since I've ventured into one of these places. I miss them, the staff, and their absurd conversations they have totally out loud, showing complete disdain or indifference to anyone within earshot.

What I didn't know, is that these situations, these characters, can cross into other arenas where the staff are equally passionate, knowledgeable and downright nerdy. I met a group of them last weekend with my kids at the local indie comic shop. My son had been invited to a birthday party and knowing that his friend was a GI Joe fan, we decided to buy him a few comics as a present.

Heroes Aren't Hard to Find is a superbly cool place to be on a lazy Saturday afternoon. First of all, the store itself is fantastic. There's a giant comic book character with weird, silver silo-ish arms sprouting from the counter and into the ceiling. The comics and books are in pristine, and I do mean, no reason why you couldn't find anything, order. Like the floors, the glass cases are sparkling clean, and have an awesome assortment of characters for sale. I will probably NEVER buy one of these, but I love looking at them and never fail to give them more than just passing glances when there. Heroes is painted a dark blue, but with bright spots of secondary colors. For example, the bench is a sunny yellow, and the perfect spot for perching with a book.

My daughter did just that, happily so for the entire stay. Our dog, relegated to sitting outside the door, enjoyed being petted and cooed at by all the passersby. One enchanted stranger brought him a bowl of water and Alfie made the most out of all the attention.

Keller seemed to have forgotten how cool Heroes is, and was amazed at ALL the books there, just waiting for him to pick up and read. He immediately grabbed some comics for his friend, threw them on the counter and then went hunting for something else to read. Within minutes, he found a series of Indiana Jones books and got so excited, he didn't make it to a chair or bench. He just plunked himself down on the floor in the middle of the aisle, right in front of the Indiana Jones section. He was completely oblivious to the other patrons who had to jump, side step or step over him. No apologies either...

But Heroes is the kind of place where they aren't needed. Everyone there gets it. Seriously. Neither the Barry or Dick character cared that my son was completely blocking traffic. What's more, neither one of them were at all disdainful (out loud, anyway) of Keller's comic choice. I'm guessing it was a good one because before I knew it, some guy my age wanted to know what Keller was reading, what his favorite Indie movie was, what he thought the best part of the movie was, and why. And this guy wasn't being polite! He was WAAAAAY excited that he and Keller both agreed that the third one was the best. (I cannot for the life of me, remember the title right now)

His enthusiasm caught me off guard. At first I thought "Is this some weirdo who likes little kids?", quickly followed by "Is he trying to pick me up in some round about way?", ending with "He has found a kindred spirit!" Naturally, I was intrigued.

I watched as this guy made his way around the store, talking to every single patron about something, and eventually winding his way to the cash register where he, Dick and Barry swapped "top five underrated story lines" etc etc for the next 40 minutes. I couldn't believe it! It was the comic book version of High Fidelity, only with less snotty, more friendly staff.

After nearly an hour, it was time to go. I rounded up the kids and headed over to the cash register. Mr. Enthusiastic, who was still there, told me and my kids that I was an awesome mom for hanging out, and that they had better be good to me on Mother's Day. Again, not quite sure if it was a nerdy attempt at flirting, or pure enthusiasm. Either way it was funny.

What struck me as I walked out the door and looked back? Besides my own, there wasn't one single kid in the shop. Just guys, grown men, swapping knowledge, stories and ideas, name-dropping insider-type writers and collectors, and arguing the merits of their favorite comics. It was a great way to revisit High Fidelity, Heroes style.