What a surreal night we had last night. And by surreal I mean cool, real cool, but so different, it almost didn’t seem real. There were many neat people gathered to help SingingSally and her family move. It just so happens they moved closer to us. She is quite fortunate to bask in the glow of living near us. I will certainly expound on that in a later post. In the meantime, we had the distinct pleasure of getting to spend some time with so many cool people while watching the CUBS BEAT THE BREWERS!! Here’s the lineup:
- Josh, who shall now forever be known as Jason (what Nanni says goes, and she has proclaimed him Jason!) - a really excellent guy who is about to become an Eagle scout. I’d like to like him but I can’t. He is a Cardinals fan and has the audacity to park his Jeep with the silly Cardinals tire cover mocking us in our own driveway. I suppose I could like him because he helped move people that were total strangers to him, and then flat out refused to take any payment, but he is a Cards fan so I’m sure his gesture had some sort of shady motive.
- DustMeister – turns out this guy who has been living with us is a total poser. Apparently, he’s been moderately faking an interest in baseball. The dude knows NOTHING about the game. He claims he did not deceive us purposefully. Apparently, I ASSUMED wrong. Like the other night, when we were in the same room together and his eyes were focused on the same Cubs game mine were focused on. Apparently, when I was watching the players and the score, he was marveling at things like “Wowser, look at that ball girl. She just gave a ball to a kid in the stands. I didn’t know they did things like that at a baseball game.” Hey, DustMeister! We have TAKEN you to a real live baseball game. What was that? Were you there for the mere enjoyment of socializing with your friends? Get over it. Pay attention to the guys hitting a ball with a stick and running around! Priorities, man, priorities. I want my money back.
- Jakester – my beloved nephew. Recently of New York. Soon to return to school in Manchester, England. Sadly, another non baseball caring guy. What is with you people? At least he was willing to allow us to get our baseball fix last night and still hang out with us. We don’t see him very often, and I know he misses us terribly. So I’m happy for him.
- AUBS! - now here is a girl I can love. She loves our Cubbies and is not afraid to scream about it. We are going to get to watch a whole lot more games together this summer, and I am fairly certain I will be suffering permanent hearing loss before the season is over. I’m cool with that. I, undoubtedly, do have my priorities in line.
- Emmy – Emmy, Emmy, where were you? Last night, you seemed to wander everywhere on our property BUT in front of the TV to watch the Cubs. It must have been an oversight. I’m sure it won’t happen again.
- Steph – Emmy’s ultracool friend. She is a White Sox fan, which is forgivable, mostly because her piano playing is to die for. More on that in a moment…
- SweetGuy – you know him. He’s sweet.
- Bud – you know him. He’s Bud. He has eyebrows.
Now here comes the surreal part. The Cubs had the game in hand and one by one kids started to wander away from the TV. We tracked them down by following this incredible music coming forth from our bedroom. Turns out with a piano, a paper clip, a stick of gum, and a bottle rocket they managed to craft an amazing jam session. Steph is an out of this world piano player. Jakester accompanying. Bud beating the hand drum. DustMeister rigging our stereo into a mini-amp and synthesizing on Jakester’s Mac. And Jason, Emmy, and AUBS! working combinations of the bass, vocals, and all of the above. ALL of them squished into the corner of our very messy bedroom surrounding the piano. Don’t ask. Don’t y’all have a piano in your bedroom? It’s the happening thing to do.
The energy, the fun, the MUSIC, all of it was mind blowing and absolutely delightfully fun-full. I totally, totally want them to do that again. Please just let me make my bed and remove my dirty clothes first, guys, K?
longer, it goes in all different directions and he’s forced to…. TAKE CARE OF IT. Worse yet, he may need to use PRODUCT on it. The tragedy of it all. His solution is to buzz cut it. It’s a good look on him. He was due for a buzz just before our Canadia vacation. Somehow, Magoo and I managed to convince him to let us, for the duration of the vacation, mess with his hair. 
fterwards Magoo used an equal amount of coersion to talk him into shaving because it looked like this. Magoo is not a fan of facial hair. Pardon the tangent, but her dislike of facial hair is causing strife in our house at this moment. For some odd reason, Bud and DustMeister are holding a sideburn growing contest. It’s very tense watching the non-stop action of this challenge, let me tell ya. Magoo is not pleased. She believes side burns make them look like dorks, and is not afraid to state it. I think her sweetie, Da Kaff, should join the contest!!
o. Big bummer though, because the picture doesn’t capture Le Eye Roll at its zenith. Really, we should only see the whites of her eyes. But, I don’t have to convince you. If you’ve spent more than 10 minutes with Magoo, you’ve probably seen the real thing. Her expressions are unrehearsed and involuntary. Trying to make her stop would be like trying to make a lefty into a right handed person. It’s just not natural. 
She moves steadily forward without complaint, and still keeps her sense of humor. Here is how she suggested dressing for the first time she would meet her neighbors at the 4th of July block party. (If you can’t make it out in the picture, those are blond extensions in her hair.) She is taking on new roles and tasks she never had to play before, such as filling the car with gas, playing hardball with poor customer service people, setting up cable and Internet, and even reading email. And she is not only having to do all these things, she has to do them without being able to bounce ideas off her trusted confidant. My parents always talked. That sounds like a silly statement, doesn’t it? But, there are some astounding statistics out there about how much, scratch that, how little married couples actually talk. Not Mom and Dad. They bounced ideas off of each other constantly… albeit in a bit of a unique manner I never quite comprehended. Of all the things that have changed in her life, perhaps this is the toughest. 