Big Hair Days

I got a call last week informing me that a concert I had bought tickets for has been cancelled. It was disappointing, but I decided to go out and see who else was coming to town in the next few months. I see that Ratt and Poison are going to be in town next month. I am still debating on whether or not I want to go. I haven’t seen either one before so it seems like a good opportunity. I still have to see if I can talk Heidi into going with me. I’m not opposed to going alone, but having someone else go would still be nice.

So I started thinking about all those “Big Hair” bands from the 80’s. You know what? I never saw any of them in concert. I’m not sure why exactly, except that I just didn’t go to a lot of concerts in high school. I listened to them on the radio and I bought the albums, but that was about it. These days I have quite the CD collection of greatest hits and random 80’s compilations. I was joking with a friend of mine recently that I think I own all of the “Power Ballads” ever made.

So how about a Top 5 Power Ballad list?

1. Headed for a Heartbreak- Winger
2. Home Sweet Home- Motley Crue
3. House of Pain- Faster Pussycat
4. Heaven- Warrant
5. I Won't Forget You- Poison

Oh, Let's do 5 more. I can't resist...

1. Ballad of Jayne- LA Guns
2. Honestly- Stryper
3. Love of a Lifetime- Firehouse
4. High Enough- Damn Yankees
5. Fly to the Angels- Slaughter
   

One thing I will say about the 80’s is that sometimes I miss my big hair. Sure, it was a lot of time and energy that I could have devoted to other things like sleeping or homework or whatever, but it didn’t seem like a hardship at the time. It was a like an art project that I created every day. My poor hair was tortured within an inch of its life between color, perm, hot rollers, curling irons, mousse, and hairspray. And the teasing! It’s a wonder I have any hair left. Still, it was what we all did at the time, so at least we can all suffer with the bad pictures together. I came across this picture and I thought it was so perfect for that time period. I place this around the spring of 1989 before I graduated.

Can you believe it? The white nail polish, the torn jeans… and my hair! At least in this picture, it’s a little harder to tell that my hair is both red and black. This was one of a series of pictures and the others are not quite so kind, I assure you. I had dyed my hair black and it took forever to grow out. It was a complete disaster and I looked like some sort of weird raccoon. Eventually, I had my hair layered to get most of the black color out and then kept coloring the rest of it. Bad idea. You just can’t color over black. Now of course, I leave it to professionals.

(Sometimes I still get the urge to perm it.)

Crowded House

So today I am listening to my new Crowded House CD (Thanks, Baby). It definitely has a more mellow theme to it than previous albums. Of course it is dedicated to their previous drummer who passed away, so what can you expect? Still it’s a good CD as far as I’m concerned.

The other CD’s I have picked up recently are Brandi Carlile and Gogol Bordello. Wow, talk about polar opposites. I saw a video for the song The Story by Brandi and I really liked it. I don’t know that I was expecting the rest of the CD to have more of a Country kind of feel, but it is pretty good. Plus, the Indigo Girls sing background on one of the tracks, which is a good enough endorsement for me. I am still trying to get through all of the Gogol Bordello CD. This one is really odd. I looked them up online and they are listed as a Gypsy Punk band from New York. I think that sums up what I am hearing pretty nicely. The sound is really strange, but fun. Many of the members are from Eastern Europe. Anyway, they are really unusual and I also found out they are going to be one of the bands performing this year at Vegoose.

Other things going on in my crowded house include finally setting up a seller’s account on Ebay to try and get rid of some of my belongings. So far, I am listing some books. If nothing happens, then I can try selling them back to a bookstore. I just thought I would give Ebay a try to see what happened. Setting everything up was pretty simple, which was nice. I’m not sure how well books sell on the site, so I may have set myself up for some early disappointment there. I’ll be listing some other things in the coming weeks and see if it makes a difference.

In other news, today is my sister’s birthday. Last year, I totally forgot to call her which had never happened. I felt awful. Anyway, I am hoping that if I somehow forget to pick up the phone today that I am covered by a mention here. Plus, the picture today is for her. Before she decided to stay home with the kids, she worked as a sign language interpreter. The sign above takes the “I”, “L” and “Y” from the American Sign Language alphabet and means “I Love You.” Happy Birthday, sis!

Bubble Bursting

Dads are good for lots of stuff. When you are little, they can lift you up to reach for things you couldn’t manage on your own. They can help with homework (especially the really awful math stuff) and teach you more than you probably ever wanted to know about tools, sports, cars, computers and anything else they think they are the resident expert on. My education seemed to center around sales techniques, New Age philosophies, the benefits of broccoli, the brilliance of the Tupperware orange peeler, and the endless talent and virtues of the Ohio State Marching Band.

Still, for all the stuff that seemed “weird” or more often than not “so unfair” about my upbringing, there are still any number of things that send me running to my father to be my sounding board and voice of reason. He is the first and only call I make when it’s time for me to deal with my car lease. Having been in the car business for years, I see no reason not to rely on him for help. And by help, I mean doing it all for me. It amazes me how much my IQ drops as soon as I set foot in a car dealership. I realize that one day I will have to figure this out for myself, but I’m not in any hurry.

Today I talked with him about a house. I found a floor plan that I am absolutely in love with. Again, his experience in the business makes him my first call regarding questions. Today he had to burst my new home bubble with some hard realities. I hate it when that happens. Still, I would rather hear all of the risks from someone who cares rather than all the benefits from someone who cares about their commission. So, this latest plan may be out of my reach for the moment, but I am ok with that for now.

One interesting thing about growing up is that the relationship with your parents grows up too. Now instead of it being a one way street with me running to him with questions or asking for advice, he also comes to me for some of the same. Dad is a dreamer. He has an incredible imagination and a very healthy entrepreneurial spirit. It’s very easy to get caught up in his enthusiasm. Sometimes he has made his dreams a reality and sometimes not. Over the years I have found myself in a role reversal situation where I am the one that feels like I am bursting his bubble with the hard reality questions. It’s an odd feeling and a fine balance. I never want to discourage him or seem unsupportive, but sometimes I just don’t see the big picture the same way he does. Still, he always seems appreciative of the conversation even if we just end up agreeing to disagree on the merits of his latest plan.

So, I may never go to a car dealership alone and I may never understand anything but the simplest math. What I do know is that no matter what he is still there lifting me in his own way to reach for the things I need. Thanks, Dad.

Wounded, but Walking

Hello. First of all, let me just say that I have the best friends in the whole world. Thanks to all of you that have called to check in with me after my latest round of drama. As you may expect, I have good moments and bad, but the good moments are lasting longer now.

Dealing with the turn of events from last month has been hard, but comparatively speaking, it could have been a lot worse. It could be due to the fact that something that blew in like a hurricane and then blew back out again in such a short time was bound to feel a bit surreal and rushed. It could also be the ability to correctly categorize the experience in terms of other past experiences. While I didn’t walk away unaffected, I wasn’t crippled by it either. Not exactly a talent I ever wanted to cultivate, but the alternative seems much worse. If bad experiences are supposed to make us stronger, then I should have the emotional strength equivalent of lifting cars. Yippee.

So, while I am not rushing around trying to fill the void with useless activities, I am finding that I am focusing on other things that interest me. I have a new side project that I am researching right now. Perhaps its humble beginnings as a hobby may turn into a legitimate lucrative business, as is my hope. As I said, I am in the research phase for now, which means lots of trips to the book store as well as online research. I think it’s exciting because it is such a different direction for me and my creative “mojo” is being put on notice to pay attention and absorb everything.

I am not ready to post details about it yet, but chances are I have mentioned it to several of you sometime within the last year or so. Once I feel like I am more educated on the subject and am ready to push my plan into some sort of action, then I will be more likely to spills the beans here.

One other strange turn of events happened yesterday. I was on a website that one of my friends from high school created as an alumni site, and I came across a name I have been searching for years. I couldn’t believe it. He was someone I had a crush on and he never knew. I ran into him once over 10 years ago in a store and told him about how I felt about him back in school. At the time, my circumstances kept me from taking any sort of action and once again we lost touch. Yesterday when I saw his name and contact information, I couldn’t believe it. I sent him an email and I am hoping I hear back from him. After so many years, it would be great to finally be able to get caught up. I’ll let you know.

By the way, my title today is another song title. This one is a song by Nik Kershaw. Remember him? His big hit was a song called "Wouldn't it be Good?" and was featured in the Pretty in Pink soundtrack. Anyway, I came across his latest album one day a few years ago and I love it. This song in particular has sort of a big band/salsa sound to it. Anyway, it's been playing a lot on the soundtrack in my head, so it seemed like a good title for me today.

Family on Loan

Yesterday I was adopted for the day by a nice family. Makes me sound like a puppy, I know. Yesterday I was invited over to a friend’s house to hang out with the family and just enjoy a day by the pool and watch fireworks. It was so nice of them to include me and make me feel so welcome.

I started off the day feeling restless which happens a lot when I am depressed. I feel the need to do things that allow me to get outside of my own head. I thought a good solution was to do something that would nourish my soul a little and decided to head to an art museum. The Venetian has a Guggenheim museum and I looked them up online to see what exhibits they were showing. It looked good (I think a play-do exhibit would have looked good at that point) so I got ready and headed out to the Strip.

Once I got there I was dismayed to find that it was closed for some sort of renovation. Now I was in some dangerous territory. A bad habit I have when feeling depressed is retail therapy. There I was with no simple (and economical) distraction, and smack dab in the middle of a lot of mindless shopping opportunities. I want to tell you that turned around and left immediately. I could lie and tell you that is exactly what I did. I didn’t. However, I did manage to buy someone a birthday present and I also have a Christmas present ready to go. THEN, I got the Hell out of there.

I headed over to Heidi’s moms house later that afternoon. It was still really hot (high of 114), so it was really great to be in the pool. Later we had a barbeque and watched the crazy neighbors near and far shooting off fireworks. It was a lot like being in the middle of a war zone. There were explosions coming from all directions. Some people had obviously splurged and bought the illegal professional fireworks. It’s a whole different ballgame when they are going off right over your head instead of a saner distance away. At one point there were some ashes that drifted down into the pool. Scary.

All in all, it was a great way to spend the evening and there were no probing questions to answer and no pressure to do anything except enjoy myself. There were some young kids there and I of course had to be all over them. I played a really fun game of “I Spy” with a 4 year old. We also tried to play some checkers, but I think the finer nuances of the game were lost on him and the 7yr old rightfully beat the pants off of us. It was also fun to watch them enjoy the fireworks. Even the baby would point and clap at the pretty colors in the sky after she would jump at the big noise.