Top 5 T-shirts Seen at the PSU-ND Game

In an homage to "Late Show with David Letterman", I humbly present the "Top 5 T-shirts Seen at the PSU-ND Game":

5. "I snatch kisses and vice-versa."
4. "Notre Lame"
3. "Ann Arbor is a whore." (my perennial favorite)
2. "I beat anorexia." (seen on a very large man)

And the number 1 t-shirt seen at the PSU-ND game:

1. "I stole Charlie Weis' t-shirt." (seen on a 6X t-shirt worn by an average-sized college kid)

Juvenile and low-brow, yes. But it still makes me giggle.

The Perfect Rob Roy

That's what Bob's grandmother, Emilie--who everyone called "Gram"--always drank after a long day at Chris Henderson Realty in Wildwood Crest. She'd walk in the door at 5:00 p.m. and announce, "Time for a Perfect Rob Roy," then walk down to her vast wet bar and promptly make herself one. We all knew then that happy hour at Gram's house was in full swing!

Gram died last Sunday at the ripe old age of 88. In the past few years her memory began to fail and she'd been in the care of a local nursing home in the Wildwood area. But up until that point she still lived independently in her little Cape Cod in Wildwood Crest. Before that she'd spent 30 years living in "The Big House", which is what all of Bob's family called the house that she and Bob's grandfather, Len, built and then retired to in 1967. It was an awesome house, made for entertaining. Situated on Atlantic Avenue, right across the street from the ocean, it boasted the aforementioned wet bar, located in the family room, and a large living room with sliding glass doors that opened up onto a patio in her backyard.

Some of my fondest memories of The Big House and Gram center around happy hour. After she'd make her Perfect Rob Roy, we'd all make ourselves a beverage and meander out onto the front porch to watch the cars cruise up and down Atlantic Avenue. Gram would make herself busy inside fixing little plates of peeled, steamed shrimp with cocktail sauce and a side of saltines, making sure that each plate had exactly six shrimp and exactly six saltines. We'd then sit in chairs on the front porch while Toby, Bob's enormous furball of a dog, would run back and forth on the roof of the house, right above the porch. See, he'd found a way he could squeeze through the railing on the sundeck above the garage onto the roof. This fact caused great consternation to many people passing by, who'd invariably shout, "Hey! You know your dog's on the roof?!?" And Bob's dad would casually reply, "We don't have a dog."

Every time Bob and I visited Gram she'd always hug me and say, "Hi, doll!" I'd always felt completely accepted by Bob's family, and Gram and her hugs were a huge part of that. I know this is what many people will remember about Gram. The big hug. The smile. I know this is what I'll remember best about Gram.

Lemonade Stand

My daughters and their best buds next door set up a lemonade stand recently on a corner near our house. It was a blistering hot and humid day (after several cool rainy days), and the kids were relentless in their pursuit of potential sales. You could hear their mantra of "ICE COLD TEA AND LEMONADE!" five houses away. I was most impressed by the fact that the kids decided to donate all the proceeds to the American Red Cross to help with relief efforts associated with the devastating floods in the Midwest.

In the short span of two hours, the kids had raised $29.00--at $0.25 a glass! Granted, many people gave the kids $1.00 and did not ask for change. And all supplies were "donated" by my neighbor Wendy. But I was completely surprised by a few things:

1. The kids' perseverance in selling, even in 90 degree heat. I remember as a kid having a lemonade stand and hawking my wares for about five minutes, then deciding that watching "Creature Double Feature" seemed a better bet and hanging up my pitcher. The only reason our crew quit selling is that we made them come in and have lunch!


2. How many people driving or walking by completely ignored the kids, which was pretty hard to do since people walking by were almost assaulted by my 6-year-old. Not even so much as a nod or a smile by some passersby! How can you not smile at the first capitalistic venture of most small children in the United States?


3. Thankfully, though, the number of generous souls outweighed the misers. Like I said, many people didn't ask for change. A fair number even pulled over in their cars for a drink and were treated to curbside service.
   

So thanks to everyone who helped our kids learn a valuable lesson about giving. And to those who were Scrooges? Bah! Humbug!

A Passion for Prose

During my book club discussion tonight, a few people marveled at how I can sit and read a book for hours--even into the wee hours of the morning--and not get distracted, or even tired.

I've always been like that. I remember reading in bed as a kid, long after everyone else had gone to sleep. I just love to read--to get caught up in a complete other world that's so unlike life here in good ol' Central PA.

I go in fits and spurts, though. At the beach I can go through four books during the week with no problem. But then once I get back real life sets in again and reading gets put on the back burner for awhile.

I always come back to it, though, like an old friend. So many books, so little time.

Guilty Pleasures

I was just reading an article on MSNBC about their "guilty pleasures". I love reading about other peoples guilty pleasures, because then I don't feel so bad about my own freakish indulgences. So in an homage to MSNBC's staff, I thought I'd list some of my guilty pleasures:

• Josh Duhamel, of Las Vegas fame
• People magazine
• Cheese curls
• HGTV
• America's Next Top Model
• McDonald's Quarter Pounder with Cheese
• High School Musical soundtrack

Tell me--what's your guilty pleasure?

Summer Camp

My 8-year-old is at summer camp this week. For one whole week! And she has no fears about it. None whatsoever. As a matter of fact, after I picked her up from mini-camp last year (a mere four days), the first thing out of her mouth was, "I'm going for a WEEK next year!" My 6-year-old wanted to go desperately this year, but was too young. "Next year," I reassured her, "you can go to mini-camp."

I never went to camp as a kid. When I recently asked my mom why I never went--assuming we didn't have the funds or the opportunity--she said that I had never wanted to go. That she'd asked me every year and that I'd flat out said no. I have no recollection of this, and can I can only imagine that I knew I'd be too homesick. I got homesick at the drop of a hat as a kid, which is too bad for me. I missed out on a lot of fun at camp, based on my daughter's report from last year. I'm just glad she missed the "homesick gene" from me and eagerly attends camp and sleepovers. As a parent, you always want your kids to do more than you did in life, and in this case, it looks like I've succeeded.

But I still wish I would've had the cojones to go to camp!

Wild about Harry

I'll admit it. I do love my Harry Potter books. I mean, not in a dress-up-as-Hedwig-and-go-to-the-local-Barnes-and-Noble kind of way, but in a stay-up-'till-4 AM-reading kind of way. Which is what I did after opened Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows at 10:00 PM on Saturday night.

There's just something about the series...getting lost in a completely different world. I'm not normally a sci-fi fan, but these books got me hooked. The characters. The setting. The matter-of-fact way Rowling writes about the wizarding world. I can't quite explain it, seeing as a I'm a Muggle, of course.

All I know is that I was completely emotionally spent after I finished the book on Sunday at 1:30 PM. Well, that and forlorn, knowing this is the last HP book. Ever.
But on Sunday night, I gave my copy of the first Harry Potter book--Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone--to my 8-year-old daughter to read. She had expressed an interest in reading Deathly Hallows, but I insisted that she start at the beginning (a very good place to start).

And now I get to experience Harry Potter all over again, through her eyes. And the series goes on...

Something Else To Do

I'm starting to do this blogging thing, like all the cool kids do. We'll see how long this lasts....

Don't hold your breath.