My Risque, Gossip-Inducing Life

I got a request for "more personal" blog entries. Like, what's my day-to-day life like. I actually sorta avoid that, because I think the philosophical angle is way more interesting. And I think what one thinks is very personal.

But okay, here's a weekend in my life:

Friday my younger son and his band had a gig at a restaurant that specializes in hot dogs and brats. We hauled PA gear, instruments, etc., set the boys up, tip jar and all. They'd been written up in our local paper, and a gazillion people turned out for the 1-hour show. (Well, okay, maybe 100 -- by middle school band standards, that's equal to a gazillion.) From originals to Wolfmother, they totally rocked the place. Teachers from the present school and their elementary school showed up, there were (gasp) groupies, and people from the school where I used to teach made the trip to see Wendelin's "baby" bash on the drums. Our other son sat in on "Crazy Train" -- one of my favorite Ozzy songs -- and he did an awesome job channeling Randy Rhoads on guitar.

By the time we got home, we were all wiped-out tired. I tried writing on the Sammy title before bed, but it was hopeless.

Saturday, however, I passed up the opportunity to go on a sensible morning run and wrote. Two great hours typing on my laptop while Mark went out in search of his dad, who's recently started running Saturday mornings at 7 AM.

Both boys had birthday parties to go to, so after breakfast we helped them focus on getting their chores and homework done beforehand. (Translation, we kept busy with our own chores and checked in on them every ten minutes, making sure they were doing what they were supposed to be doing.) After presents were wrapped and all of that, we dropped them off at their parties, had lunch at Baja Fresh, and went home, where I wrote some more on Sammy while Mark took care of some Modern Drummer business (he writes for that magazine).

Is this boring enough yet? Geez.

Around four o'clock I had had enough of sitting and typing, so I strapped on my shoes, and Mark (who cannot pass up a run, even if he's already done one that day) and I went about 11 miles. We went past the clubhouse where our 16-yr old was attending the b-day party, and Mark actually wanted to go peek in the window! I wouldn't let him -- our son would have been mortified.

Kids came home, we sat around and talked for a while, I worked on a song I've been writing for about two months, folded mountains of laundry, wrote some more on Sammy Keyes and called it a day.

Today I went to a tomato festival. Seriously. It was at an organic farm, there were dozens of varieties of tomatoes, and it was actually very interesting and tasty.

And there you have it -- my risque, gossip-inducing life. See why I prefer the more philosophical approach?