Creepy? Sad? Or Both?

Sometimes there’s nothing sadder than realizing that things get old, wear out, or outlive their usefulness. The only thing sadder than realizing this, is refusing to accept it.

Case in Point: Rick Springfield. Icon of my youth. Major crush of mine spanning 4th – 6th grade. (4th grade was when Andy Gibb was unceremoniously dethroned, and Rick took his place. Andy was gracious, of course, but then again, 10 year olds are fickle. Come on, “Jessie’s Girl?” Andy couldn’t compete with that.) My parents are reading this right now, and thinking, “I had no idea she had a thing for these people…??” Yeah, that’s why they’re called SECRET CRUSHES. No one needs to know, certainly not parents. Parents could only use that kind of information against you, so needless to say, I held my cards close. Mom and Dad, I trust you far more now. Does that help?

Ok, so fast forward 25 years. Time hasn’t been kind to Rick, and that makes me sad. Not that he’s gotten old, but that he just keeps on truckin’, and clearly under bad management.

Sometimes it’s ok to retire, and enjoy your sunset years. I’m begging you Rick, please retire before you ruin all happy childhood memories for me! Before I can’t get the seared-in image of your creepy too-tight facelift, and man eyeliner out of my head. 60 year olds don’t rock, (notable and obvious exception: David Gilmour of Pink Floyd) so please stop embarrassing yourself. Take a page out of Mark Harmon’s book, and become a silver fox! No eyeliner necessary. Besides, I’m fairly sure if Mark Harmon saw you wearing eyeliner, he would take you down. Just out of principle.

Tailgating - California Style!

I’m sick of talking about squirrels. Let’s talk about football!! Fall is that great time of year when the weather changes, pumpkins start becoming part of the décor, and people start talking about football. On my multi-stop trip out west, I made a very brief stop in San Francisco for a concert and a 49er’s/Seahawks football game. This being my very first NFL game, I was in for an adventure! We had heard that the city buses that run to Candlestick Park fill up fast, so we planned ahead, and ended up getting there about two hours early. Two hours afforded us an opportunity to get to know the 49er’s tailgaters in a way that we didn’t expect. These were the most FRIENDLY, welcoming people that I’d ever met. Complete and total strangers, they invited us to share their meal, and watch the Raiders game on the flat screen they had set up. I’m not sure that plasma tv’s were meant to be compatible with rabbit ears and generators, but it totally worked. What was even more fun, was the fact that not a single one of these fans even had tickets to the game! They were just there for the tailgating.

If you think this setup is impressive, check out the satellite dish, and FIVE TV’s the people across from us had going!

Ok, I submit the picture below to prove the point that all people can exist in harmony. If you ever watched Sesame Street’s “one of these things is not like the other…” this might very well be the adult example of that. We watched these 49er’s fans incredulously- torn between their love of the game, and their inability to leave their privileged lifestyle behind for a couple hours. Yep, in this photo you see a Lexus, a real picnic basket, tablecloth, and fresh bloody mary's complete with celery stalk. A spread that could only be achieved by an upper echelon of society that I'm not at all familiar with. However, the cheap wooden tray tables proved that no matter how much money you make, there's a little bit of Walmart in all of us! HILARIOUS.

All in all, the game was tons of fun. And I learned one thing: if your stadium has an offer to “report BADFAN behavior by texting ****”….. Security WILL come. Don’t ask me how I know this. This little college reunion was short, but sweet. I really enjoyed getting to see my hometown friends again, and jam packing five days worth of fun into two short days. I’m already thinking I need to plan a longer trip next time, so I can see my west coast family. (Uncle Phil and Aunt Sharon, I hope you don’t mind visitors!!??)

Stay tuned.... next post: Seattle, and my day with Lucy!

Reader Questions Answered!

There have been several questions regarding the new method of squirrel regulation at our house. Here’s an update to answer some of your most burning questions:

Q: Did we eat him?
A: We most certainly did not. Being married to a wildlife biologist, I am a reasonably good sport about trying different cuisines of varying species. I said TRY. Not enjoy. Not put into recipe rotation. My reasoning is admittedly prideful. At this point in time, I make far too much money (any amount is too much) and have endured enough years of schooling, to even entertain the thought of eating a tree rat. Prideful yes, apologetic no. Karma may come back and bite me on this one, but I’m going to risk it.

*Interesting side note: Put a bunch of biologist’s (mostly male, all hunters) together in a work environment, and their work potlucks evolve into a “hey, top THIS” mystery meat bonanza. The equation is simple: mystery meat + crock pot + barbeque sauce = mmm mmm good. Just don’t ask where it came from. Creepy, huh?

Q: Can I come shoot squirrels too?
A: In my wildest dreams, it never occurred to me that I would grow up to have a snipers nest set up in our upstairs office. I'm going to have to say no, since I happen to know that NONE of my girlfriends have valid hunting permits.

Q: Method of Disposal?
A: Originally, the plan was to toss the squirrel into the backyard and let Skip have his way with it. After all, six years of frustration warrant a few minutes of retribution on his part. We quickly decided that letting our beloved (ok, my beloved) house pet devour a wild animal, fleas, plague, rabies, hantavirus, and all, wasn’t the best idea. Picture this: Skip with beloved trophy in mouth, gleefully running the perimeter with his fresh-from-the-tree treat in his mouth. Daron, chasing ecstatic dog around the yard, trying to recover said tasty treat. Poor Skip. The Dad giveth, and the Dad taketh away. He now lies on the back stretches of our property, not buried. Not buried, because we realized that we loaned our shovel out (Hi Sofia!), and need to get it back. Sooner than later.

Q: Survivor’s Guilt?
A: Some. Granted, I was raised in the school of “eat what you kill,” but I didn’t consider eating this one, even for a minute. Going forward, we may need to come up with a strategy that will ease my guilt a little. Organic dogfood? Addition to Daron’s skull collection? I’m open for ideas. Please nobody suggest Brunswick Stew. Google it if you don’t know what I mean. Or click on this link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brunswick_stew

Bleh……..

Squirrel Update

Elisa: 1
Squirrel: 0
Times shot new gun: 1
Insanely proud husband: 1
Confused, but ecstatic dog: 1

That's right folks. One shot. You thought I was kidding?

The name's Mayer... Oscar Mayer...

For your Friday viewing pleasure, I'm posting this pre-Halloween picture for you. For those of you who have ever thought you were married to a real wiener, take heart. I actually have photographic evidence to back my claim.

Family Is Forever

Today is a sad day for the Barnes/Cope clans. We lost our dear friend and family member Ray Cope yesterday, after some unexpected surgical complications. Ray was a great guy, a good time, and an even better grandpa! He absolutely adored his 3 grandchildren, and made sure they never wanted for a single thing. Ray, we will miss you at the Barnes gatherings! There wasn't a 4th of July, Thanksgiving, or Christmas Eve that I can remember where you and Liddy and Granny weren't there celebrating with us. Thank goodness for our knowledge of forever families, and the promise of being reunited with our loved ones who have passed. We will miss you...