Sh'Bam to you too!

Good morning! It's Saturday and I got out of bed early to work out. Believe me, it was the last thing that I wanted to do, but somehow the coffee kicked in and I walked out the door to the Y for Sh'Bam. Actually, the effort to make myself do that was worth it. Since the alternative would have been to sit on the sofa with another cup of coffee until the caffeine made me move toward the door. With that said, yesterday's post was not the end of the story...because.....



I received a call last night from the big kid. He was upset so I knew that it had to do with the scrimmage, and as he began, I felt so bad that I started with the tears (just light ones...not a sob...just a few tears).....As he tried to explain why he was so upset, he mentioned that he is so anxious about his uncle Big M who is one of his heroes. Being three hours away and unable to visit has taken a toll on him as he wants to leave campus as soon as he can....then he went into....

"I have it all.....everything....even a cadillac to drive around in with a great apartment...a selfless sister....two parents who would do anything for me....a family who is the greatest....but I am so sad...."

That's when I started to whimper...."don't be. Big M will be OK. He's a fighter and so are you. Find a friend to talk to..."

"No one is around and I really don't have many friends...."

Now I know that he is not thinking straight, 'cause he has a large circle of buds and can text anyone for a date or good time at a pub. So, there must be more. Sadly, I was too upset to pull it out of him when dad walked through the kitchen door. Whew...the cavalry has arrived. I didn't want to bail on the call, but I was not in the best frame of mind so I was non therapeutic....

And so, dad took over, calmed and allayed the kid's fears and eventually hung up the phone. On the other hand, I opened a chilled bottle of pinot grigio and poured myself a tall....and I do mean 'tall' glass.



It seems that he gave up two runs in four innings and had one bad inning. The bright spot was that he had three great innings. He also said that he pitched well. Here is the basis for his anxiety....

As he was feeling pretty good advocating for himself against the twit Trainer whom I will call Napoleon, Napoleon obviously got to the coach and reported the leftie for his insubordination. As a result, the coach screamed at him yet again about following the protocol that Napoleon has created. It seems that this is the coach's way to dominate his players as he screams obscenities at them. With that said, he was once again humiliated for standing up for himself and his arm. Therein lies the reason for his meltdown last night.

Want my take? Huh? Are you ready? 'cause here it comes....

As an academic...yep, I have a doctorate which means that I have a keen sense of critical thinking. Am I bloviating? Nope...I would not have earned the degree without having the ability to figure out problems and process issues. That's a fact.

On to this issue...I have watched over the last three+ years how the trainers at this elite university have completely screwed up the pitchers' arms. In fact, having 11 surgeries in three years is 11 too many. Most programs do not have any surgeries because they know how to train pitchers.

Furthermore, with my connections, I have found the best doctors, physical therapists, and trainers in the country, if not world (am I bloviating again? No, just another fact. I do my research and do not take 'no' for an answer when someone turns me down). These doctors....the best doctors....internationally known told the kid to his face that he is never to lift a weight over his head. Never...and what does Napoleon do? He has them lift weights...not only over their heads on a regular basis but also on a game day. Once again, even Diva knows that this is wrong, wrong, wrong....

As the kid tries to protect his arm and his dream, the coach whom I will now refer to as "The Maniac" or TM for short, screams, belittles, humiliates, and humbles these guys with big dreams. What do I say to that? "Uh, let me at him....." But I cannot do this. Therefore, I will berate and reprimand him in the only format that I can until the kid graduates then I PUBLISH THIS BLOG. And rather than coding the names of the coaches, I will name names and thereby share with the world their philosophies of coaching and training. In fact, I will also add the research to support that my kid and the experts are right; and as a result TM and Napoleon will be serving him fries with his Big Meal at McDonalds in a few years. Just sayin'.....

Am I peeved? Oh yeah....peeved is not the word, but I will find better adjectives as fall ball finally ends and my boy can return home to visit his family and friends. Until then, I have to control my feelings and emotions and be a better support for him. It is a time like this that I miss tennis, 'cause I would love to be able to hit the little ball around the court and release my frustrations. Until then I have to be content to Sh'Bam at the Y until I can Sh'Bam the organization at the end of the kid's college career. And believe me, look out....I am collecting my data and will use it in a few months.

Ok, gottta go and grade papers....Peace!

Night moves

Another great day in the northeast and I am sitting in the car outside a preschool as Tink has another interview. I drove her to keep her nerves at check and help her to find it. Naturally, we got lost….my fault….she remained calm….I started praying to St. Anthony for directions.  We found it after a bit of trouble and she is now being scrutinized as a possible candidate for the job. Oye! When does it get easier? What if she gets the job and hates it? Then what? Does she start all over again and find a career and education that she wants and has a passion? This leads me to ponder where and how people develop their passion for things.

For example, when we were in San Antonio at the Alamo, there was a gift shop (naturally) and I went in (naturally). There was a large glass enclosed table that had hundreds of little soldiers for sale. They weren’t toys. They were collectibles and people were buying them by the handful. Let me tell ya….they were not cheap. So, why are these people passionate about little soldiers that are not toys? Don’t they know that they do not actually fight and they collect dust? 

 

Another passion that I ponder is one for ice fishing….really? You drive onto a frozen lake, use a chain saw to cut a hole in the ice and with no electricity or heat, a person sits on a chair and fishes. These people have to be cold and cannot start a fire or their trucks and little cold shacks will fall into the lake as the ice melts under them. And therefore, I think…why? I can see them coming home that night: "Honey, I am home. I caught a snapper and pneumonia.”

Another occupation that I really wonder about is sword swallowers in the circus. Why? Why would anyone want to place a sharp object into their mouths and down their throats? The phrase “Cat got your tongue” could actually be accurate with any kind of accident. What if he sneezes while the sword is in his throat? Then what? Call EMS, I suppose. The circus probably has them on speed dial.

 

Furthermore, a passion that has me puzzled is wanting to be a clown. I guess that I am staying in the circus mode. Be serious. Clowns scare most kids. Unless you are a sadist and want to see kids crying, then stay away from a life as a clown. How about jugglers who throw chain saws? Really? If my kids came to me at the dinner table and told me that they wanted to juggle chain saws for a living, I would have thrown a net over their heads and placed them in a padded room. 

 

My last vocation or passion that I will ponder is school bus driver. I doubt that I could ever drive a bus with little kids for myriad reasons such as screaming, hitting, biting, and developing the ultimate headache. I can see my nerves frayed as I try to deliver each precious gem to their bus stop. What if I closed my bus and there was a sleeping child in the back? I think I could lose my job or go to jail for that one. 

And so, I don’t want a profession or passion in which I could lose my livelihood if I forget something important like a sleeping urchin. I want a profession that is challenging, enjoyable, and fulfilling. I also need something positive to get me out of bed each day. I remember my waitressing years and when I had to work the breakfast shift, I would almost need an ejector button to propel myself to get up in the dark. To this day, I remember how hard it was to get out of bed. I even remember the song that the radio played during these years….it was ‘night moves’ by Bob Seger. When the radio went on at 5 am to wake me, I would hear…’blame it on the night moves…uh huh…night moves….’ My body would convulse and my head explode. To this day, when I hear this song on the radio, I get a physical and guttural reaction. 

Hmmm…this was a long post….now it is time for me to work on a few projects. 

Hasta La vista, baby!

From Bob Seger's Night Moves....

Workin' on our night moves
Trying to lose the awkward teenage blues
Workin' on out night moves
In the summertime
And oh the wonder
Felt the lightning
And we waited on the thunder
Waited on the thunder

I woke last night to the sound of thunder
How far off I sat and wondered
Started humming a song from 1962
Ain't it funny how the night moves
When you just don't seem to have as much to lose
Strange how the night moves
With autumn closing in

Real or fake?

Good morning! I hope that all are well and feeling the change of weather. I love the fall except for the work thing...although I do like my job and the people that I work with very much. I just dropped my car off since I had two lights on the dashboard flash. I don't know what they mean, but I guess that it is time to have the car doc check out the tires and under the hood. Speaking of cars, we did buy the CRV for Tink at the dealership that I swore that I would never enter again. Naturally, the moral of the story is never say never. 

We are gearing up for a weekend in Atlantic City...that's right...Miss America. Oddly, a family reunion was scheduled for the same weekend. So, BP Grandmom and Grandpop asked us to go for the events on Saturday and Sunday. Apparently, there are parades on Saturday that are a must-see. My girl friend asked me to take a Miss America poll of 'real' or 'fake'. Sadly, I cannot tell the difference but perhaps someone else in the crowd can help. Let's see....what do you think....more than 75% are fake? Stay tuned....to be determined....

On to the big kid in the mountains who today is happy. He mentioned to me yesterday that he thought the Monday Night Football game was the most exciting that he had seen in years. whoa! Hey! Don't you have class on Monday nights??? "Uh yeah, the guy in front of me had the game on his laptop so we watched it in the back row."

I guess in a big lecture hall, it could appear that the kid would be typing notes as the professor taught. Let's see....Are all professors blind to that? Hmmm...no, they are not. For example, there is a student in one of my classes who comes to class with a laptop and iPad. The iPad faces her and she is doing something on it that does not pertain to class. So, yesterday, I walked to her desk and looked down at the iPad. She was browsing Pinterest as I spoke. The student looked up at me and closed the iPad. I did not say anything else, but smiled. Oy!

Am I innocent? No! I had a meeting with another faculty member and was taking notes on my computer....but had the instant messenger going with a friend who knew both of us....here is what I typed as I pretended to listen during the meeting:

"Help! I'm dying here..."

"Grab the key to the liquor cabinet!"

"She's getting on my last nerve!"

"I can't breathe!"

"Shoot me!"

"She's crazy..."

"I need a blind fold and a cigarette."

"I am sending up the white flag!"

"I surrender...."

Then the meeting broke up and I went on my merry way. Immature? Yep....but it got me through the hour spent on theoretical and conceptual frameworks.....right?

And now, I have to grade the first round of papers that are sitting in my box.

Have a wonderful day!

Eww..that smell.....

Good morning! We are home after three very wet days in the south. We left the most amazing weather and journeyed to the seemingly wet lands. Upon returning home this morning at 1 am, the skies opened and the rain came....and will continue for another few days. Can anyone say: "mold?"

Speaking of mold...the big kid shared with me that the ceiling in the house of mold is caving in. Why? Well, it seems that when he was in the hospital last fall with mono, the guys threw a party. A partier went into the bathroom, turned the water on the bath tub, placed the stopper in the drain, closed the door, and left the house as the water flooded over the tub and through the ceiling. Would you call this a house warming gift?

As I ponder this party and destroy mentality, I have to consider what their parents must think of their babies' latest antics. I do remember holding the innocent children in my arms and wondering how they would turn out. Would they be intelligent? Uh....

Would they be good looking....hmmmm...

Would they be athletic...charming....kind...considerate....ax murderers...drug addicts.....destroy homes with water....what will they turn into? And, how can I be the person who makes sure that they turn to a life of goodness and not evil?

Does this sound like a psycho-mom? No, I don't think so, 'cause I submit to anyone that this is what a parent considers as he or she stares into the innocent eyes of their child. Honestly, if I found out that my child deliberately ruined someone's home by turning on the faucet and leaving the water to destroy, I would be heartbroken....then I would be angry...then I would seek ways to have this child of mine amend and repair for their callous disregard for someone else's property.

Like OC leaving the house with garbage in the fridge and on the counters. The house is rancid and no one can live there right now. I actually had a bad taste of this when we returned home last night. The garbage can in the garage in just two days went rancid. The odor when we returned last night made me dry heave. More so, the scent permeated the house and landed in my system for a few hours. It was disgusting. We quickly move the garbage can out of the garage but the initial damage was done. No one..even J-Lo and Liz Taylor would make a perfume that smelled like this garbage bomb...although.....this could replace nuclear bombs and guns in wars. The scent can over power anyone. Put on a gas mask, throw a stinky garbage bomb, then your opposition will throw their guns down. Think about it....no killing...an environmentally, humane way of conducting a war. The troubles in the Middle East are over. Quick...someone call the Prime Minister....he can have my garbage and begin the process of disarming the military.

OK, now that we are home, I have exactly 12 hours to equip the big kid with his needs for the apartment. I have $20 Kohl's cash and a 20% off everything coupon. Once we finish, we will drive to campus tomorrow, buy a futon and table, fill the fridge, and head home. He is ready to return. I am ready for him to return. I can see the excitement of his new place, new body, senior year, and new coach in his eyes. It's time to let him go......

Coming up....new car woes...and a trip to Paula Deen's restaurant.

I will leave you with the big lefty's walk out song for the spring. Believe it or not, the song is called...."That smell..." I am not kidding....

Later!

I love cheesecake!

Good morning! It's gonna rain today. I must admit that it has been an odd summer with cool weather and lots of rain. Does this mean more mosquitoes? Keep your fingers, toes, and eyes crossed....Tink has a job interview today that is in alignment with her career goals. It's been a wild ride trying to find the right position. However, this one looks really good. By the way, thanks to BP Grandpop who asked the Pink nuns on Green Street to pray for our girl. That's right. They call themselves the 'pink sisters' whose convent is on Green St in Philly. Nice, eh? Got that going for her...If anyone needs a prayer or 100, call the convent. The sisters will take care of you.

How is the big kid? Well, he seems pretty good as he works out 3-4 hours a day then goes to the bakery to earn money for school. He got me out of bed this morning and told me that I have to get started on my day.       It reminded me of the old days when he would slink out of bed in his footie pajamas to grab a handful of Golden Grahams (no milk) and watch Barney singing around the campfire as I dizzily got out of bed. He would find Tink already in front of the television watching Sesame Street before the sun came up.

This worries me about the future. Heck, if he is picking out my nursing home, I am afraid that I am going to be stuck in a military-like setting with revelry being played at 6 am for us senior citizens to hobble to the showers. It's not a pretty picture and nothing like my personal goal of spending my senior years looking at the ocean while my masseuse massages my sore muscles.











By the way, I went to my first Tai Chi class yesterday.

 

Can you spell boring? I was in the room with a few girls who were younger than me and lots of girls who were older. As we bent to take our first position, I could hear 20 or so knees crack. I almost fell over laughing. If I wasn't trying so hard to keep my balance, I would have hit the floor. I believe that that was my first and last Tai Chi class. On to the next class...balletone. Although, I am not sure what it is, I might as well try it as the last of my days off click off the calendar.

The next few days will be spent maxing out my credit card.

 

The big kid has to furnish the poop deck and we have to equip the kitchen too. I already hit Walgreen's 75% off sale and picked up plastic instruments for the kitchen as well as cheap forks, knives, and spoons. He bought the uber cheap white plastic chairs for the deck. I actually hate those chairs. They never look clean and grow mold. He needs a shower curtain, floor mat, rug, sofa or futon, lamps, and so on......and so on.....and so on....he will take the 32 year old broken lounge chair from the basement and television. He has checked out of the house of mold and left it in the not-so-capable hands of the crazy room mates.

The cable company has to be called and we have to rent a van to bring the rest of the furnishings to campus. I actually thought that I checked out of the process after I paid the first month's rent. But it seems that my job is not done yet. Finally, he is giving the old sofa away since the guys want to trash it. And so, another call is set to the Salvation Army to pick it up next week.

With that said, it's time for me to work out. The big kid has been a motivating factor getting me to work out every day. No cheesecake for me...lots of fruit and veggies....cardio....sweating.....cussing at my hips.....

One last word....it's on cheesecake. Yes, I know....pure fat....pure yummie-licious....check out Sunny Anderson's recipe on the Food Channel website....I made this cheesecake for the family at the beach.

After the gang fell out of their chairs in ecstasy, Big Sis and I grabbed forks and tackled the last of it....no plates were needed....too much to clean up. We finished it on the cake plate. Why did we do this at the shore when every bulge is revealed at the beach? Uh....would you believe that it was sooo good that we did not care? And so, for those of you who are sick of counting calories, carbs, and sugars, here is a recipe that is calorie-worthy. Enjoy!

Ingredients

2 cups cinnamon graham cracker crumbs
6 to 8 tablespoons butter, melted
4 (8-ounce) packages cream cheese, softened
1 1/4 cups sugar, plus
2 tablespoons sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 tablespoons lemon juice
4 eggs, beaten
2 cups sour cream
1 pint blueberries
1 pint strawberries, sliced

Directions

Special Equipment: 9-inch springform pan Heat oven to 325 degrees F. In a food processor blend crumbs and melted butter until moist, but not wet. Press into the bottom and up the sides of the springform pan. In a large bowl, using an electric beater, combine the cream cheese, 1 cup sugar, 1 teaspoon vanilla and the lemon juice, until light and smooth. Slowly mix in eggs then pour into the prepared pan. Bake 55 minutes or until the center sets. Turn off oven and remove cake. In a medium bowl mix together sour cream, 1/4 cup sugar and vanilla. Spread this over the top of the cheesecake and return to the warm oven for 30 minutes. Remove then let cool to room temperature before removing springform.

Meanwhile, in a small bowl toss together blueberries and sliced strawberries with remaining sugar.

To serve: slice cheesecake into wedges and garnish with fruit.

Read more at: http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/sunny-anderson/lonestar-state-cheesecake-recipe/index.html?oc=linkback