I Will Follow

In 1987 tweens were given a choice a decision that would affect them for the rest of their lives. They could choose New Kids on the Block's "The Right Stuff" or U2's "The Joshua Tree." Last night, 14 years later, I confirmed what I suspected all along: I chose wisely

Last night I spent my 37th birthday screaming just like I did when I was 12. U2 gave one of the best concerts I have seen and I've seen a few...

Bono was on fire. No sign of a broken back as he leapt around the stage. He reinvented his own songs, like when he had Mark Kelly the Astronaut sing Beautiful Day FROM SPACE, or dedicated his obscure October song "Rejoice" to Ang Sung Su Kyi and then moving seamlessly into "Walk On," which he wrote for her to or when he paused and had the crowd sing almost all of PRIDE In the Name of Love. Or when they rededicated Sunday Bloody Sunday to the Arab Spring. Edge played new riffs for old songs like I Will Follow and nailed the falsetto in Mysterious Ways. Larry drummed standing up and I'm fairly certain I saw Adam having a blast!

Around me I noticed the Tweens and frat boys of yesteryear rocking out like me remembering their great choice.

There were other U2 nerds near me which always makes me excited, especially to see someone singing obscure lyrics along with me... The girl next to me and I were among the select few helping Bono sing the Pavarotte lines of Miss Sarejevo. Of course when I saw the tattoo of Bono lyrics on her arm I got competitive. But then I reassured myself that I was clearly the bigger fan, because I have seen them several times in Ireland AND I have Irish citizenship more or less because of Bono and the boys.

In front of me was a dad rocking out with his tweens who started out embarrassed but then Bono got to them too.

As they wound down and said their goodbyes I was surprised that Bono kept saying how great it was to have performed and thanked the audience profusely. I got a sense that after the broken back scare he's realized just how rare and special this little band called U2 is.

And as I scurried out of the stadium with 70000 of my closest friends I thought how grateful I am that I chose heroes that have lasted a life time.

Beautiful Day

Today is day “when kings in gold suits ride elephants over mountains.” My 12th grade humanities teacher used to say that to us every morning I believe in reference to a William Carlos Williams poem about Hannibal. My teacher was nearly identical to Robin Williams’ character in Dead Poet’s Society, which is pretty remarkable for an otherwise staid public high school. On occasion since 12th grade I’ve have exclaimed this phrase at spontaneous moments of bliss. This morning, with the heat and humidity kicked to the curb, a most glorious morning dawned and this quote bubbled up and out of me as I headed to work.

Yesterday was a different story. Yesterday I played soccer with a team I joined a while back and thought I was going to die. It was about 90 degrees and 100% humidity. I’m very out of shape and, dare I say it, no spring chicken. Soccer, unlike other 30 something sports such as softball or bocce ball or silly kickball, is not for the faint of heart. Literally. And yesterday I thought I was going to both faint and have a heart attack. Because it’s a co-ed league, the league requires 2 women on the field at all times. Only 2 women showed up which meant I had to play the whole game. Did I mention that I was old and out of shape? There was a point toward the end of the game when it actually hurt to breathe in, because I’m pretty certain the dense hot air of the day was hotter than my body temperature. I had a horrible feeling, as my body demanded oxygen, that there was no longer oxygen left on the planet. Instead it had been replaced by some dreadfully noxious and searing hot fume. Not a good sign. Exhaustion after the game was other worldly. I dumped water on my head and wrists and neck to survive. To survive!

The good news is that I have pretty good muscle memory. I.e., I can still play soccer. It’s great actually to know that all of those years of playing will be with me forever. Even if my body can’t quite handle the pace, I can still dribble, shoot and hopefully score as if I have never stopped playing (or stopped playing not too long ago…)

I wish the break in weather had come a day early, but do not dwell on it. Well, I do a bit, because I just got up to go out for a few minutes and realized that my muscles are still in spasm from yesterday. But other than the hobbling I’m just enjoying the day. In fact, everyone in DC has a smile on their face today. It’s simply beautiful. Here’s hoping it doesn’t revert to the dreaded HHH weather too soon.

Wiener Roast

I’ve owned the George Forman indoor/outdoor grill for the better part of a decade. It is a wonderful machine. I’m reminded of this almost every night here in DC, because after a few years in storage, it has emerged like an O.G. prize fighter. It’s grillin like the champ it’s named after. Back in my East Village days, I had an annual Wiener Roast on my roof. It was classic New York. My roof on E. 9th street and 2nd avenue had 360 degree views of the 5 boroughs, albeit accessible only by climbing 7 flights of stairs. It managed around 20 of my closest friends without feeling crammed to the brim. And my Forman cooked wiener after wiener, no problem.

Speaking of wieners (segue way indeed) the latest to be grilled is of course the NY Representative. What a douche bag. It’s becoming exhausting that powerful men in this day and age still think they need sex so bad and still think they can get away with soliciting smut. While this is no IMF scandal, it does remind professional hard working women like me that while men no longer grab us on the ass at work, we still have to deal with sexism. My gorgeous blonde hair blue eyed big boobed friend Amy tells me receiving lewd pictures via text or twitter is commonplace. Sigh.

This morning as I listened to some stupid pundit wax lyrical about the bigger issue of Anthony’s super ego, I rolled my eyes and thought, no he’s just a dumb guy. A really really dumb guy. It also made me question what it must be like to be an elected official in this country. What must the view be like from that side of power that one thinks he can engage in such degrading behavior and still govern people.

The only moment of hilarity in all of this was the notable absence of this discussion during the Eliot Spitzer hour on CNN last night. The scandal of Weiner’s admission broke literally minutes before his broadcast and I can imagine how the conversation with the producer went:

ES: “No way, Jose”
P: “Come on, we have to. It’s breaking now. Now now”
ES: “No way, Jose”
P: “Come on, we have to. He lied to our very own Wolfie. NO ONE lies to Wolfie
and gets away with it!”
ES: “No way, Jose. ”
P: “Sigh, I guess we’ll have to wait an entire hour and go with that clown
celebri-news guy Piers then.”
ES: “La la la not listening.”

Sure enough, the very second CNN kicked Spitzer off the stage, in comes Piers with the breaking news (minus 1 hour). The hour that was supposed to be Mitt’s was spent dissecting and diagnosing wieners. Poor Mitt, can’t buy a headline…




*Note of correction: the Spitz did mention the story and make a brief passing acknowledgement of the familiar terrain...so what Wolfie wants, Wolfie gets, but I still imagine the above conversation took place!