seriously, don't stand so close to me.

I went to The Police reunion concert the other night and ended up having a great time, but not before I noticed that hey! by the way?? I'm too old for this. The irony was not lost on me in the moment that the last time around I was too young for this. Life's funny like that. The Oakland Coliseum was so packed you literally couldn't move around the concession concourse to get to your section until the loud nepotism band and then these jokers (2 opening bands in two too many) stopped playing and people started getting serious about finding their seats. I contemplated sitting on an old water fountain to pee rather than wait in a line for the women's restroom that would have meant missing my four year old leave for college it was so long.

I loved The Police as a kid. I was in the sixth grade the last time they toured and my parents just couldn't be persuaded that missing the Synchronicity tour would most definitely ruin my life. But that didn't stop me from watching all 20 hours of Live Aid to just to see them on tv or writing my History of Music report on The Police complete with blue, yellow and red scrawl in crayon (crayon!) across the front cover. So even though I've pretty much sworn off concerts because I'm tired and tragically unhip (example: I went straight from work and never really got around to throwing a change of clothes in my bag before leaving that morning so I'm pretty sure I was the only person there in patent leather ballet flats) I dragged my ass to Oakland to watch drunk old men sing Roxanne (fellow concert-goers, not the band) and cruise the merchandise table looking for a 2T concert shirt. Yet, in between all this I did seriously manage to enjoy a few cocktails with my sister and listen to old guys (the band) play some great music. Plus, the songs completely stand up after all these years and those guys worked their asses off to entertain. I had fun and that 11 year old dork with her History of Music report clutched in her hands was so happy.

summer reading

I'm pretty sure I have the working-parent equivalent of Summer Slide. I know I must have read a few novels in the last four years since the first of the smallies moved in, but for the life of me I cannot name one at the moment. This is pretty sad for someone who counts reading to be one of her most valued special skills along with the one where I manage to pick up the most expensive and beautiful card on any display without fail even though I realize spending $8 on a card is absurd. I swear, I'd mention something along the lines of "has the ability to chose and appreciate great books and read them while blow drying her hair, hiding under desk at work and whilst waiting at stop lights" on my resume if I believed anyone other than me thought that was in the slightest way extraordinary.

So, it's worth mentioning that I just read two books (thank you solo trip to Chicago) that I loved and reminded me that when you love a book you stay up past midnight reading it instead of falling asleep in front of reruns on tv.

I realize I must be the only person with an Amazon login who hadn't yet read this one. I almost passed it by after seeing everyone on the street and my mother-in-law carrying it around. Yeah, except that I ended up loving it. If you haven't read it, don't get all the Oprah-book-club-seal-makes-me-autmoatically-hate-it on me. It's good and thoughtful and makes you hungry for pasta. All in all, worth reading for that fact alone. And then there's The Girls, by Lori Lansens, another one I almost skiped becasue I got an alert from Amazon that since I loved A Gracious Plenty (a favorite from pre-kid days) and other people who loved a Gracious Plenty LOVED (and bought) The Girls that I should too. It was quirky and thoughtful and dark and sweet. Just right.