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Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About the Rolling Stones

Friday, May 5th, 2006

Can be found here.

I was searching the Web for information on an early to mid-60’s Rolling Stones’ appearance at Georgia Southern College (now, University) in Statesboro, Georgia. Growing up, Dad had told me that he saw them there. He remembers it as being 1962 or 1963, but that isn’t possible based on the information I came across on this site. It must have been 1965.

If you have the urge to find out what anyone in The Rolling Stones was doing on any day since they formed the band, this is the place. It contains a mind-boggling timeline, including this little tidbit concerning the Rolling Stones first appearance in the American Southeast:

“May 4-8, 1965: The Rolling Stones perform their first ever concerts in the southeastern U.S., playing auditorium and stadium shows in Statesboro and Atlanta in Georgia, Clearwater and Jacksonville in Florida, and Birmingham, Alabama.”

Interestingly, this is what Mick Jagger had to say about America at the time:

“New York (in 1964 and ’65) was wonderful and so on, and L.A. was also kind of interesting. But outside of that we found it the most repressive society, very prejudiced in every way. There was still segregation. And the attitudes were fantastically old-fashioned. Americans shocked me by their behavior and their narrow-mindedness. It’s changed fantastically over the last 30 years. But so has everything else (laughs).”

Rollie Goes to See Junior Horne

Thursday, May 4th, 2006

A couple of weeks ago, after spending the weekend at the Lake, I went to see my parents in Warner Robins, about an hour and a half south of Atlanta, near Macon. While down there, Dad decided that Rollie needed a haircut, so we took him to Junior Horne’s. Mr. Horne has only been cutting Dad’s hair for the few years he has been living in WR, but he has been cutting Pop’s hair for almost 40 years. When we talk about getting their hair cut, they don’t even have to say, “I went and got my haircut today.” They say, “I went to see Junior Horne.” Now that’s an enduring relationship.

Junior Horne’s has a barber shop pole (kicking myself for not getting a picture of Rollie’s reaction to that, and is located in a 50’s-style strip mall that my Dad claims is where he saw Jerry Lee Lewis play on the back of a flatbed pickup truck. This is right up there with Dad’s claim that he drove the Rolling Stones from the Savannah airport to Georgia Southern when they played there while he was in college. I love my Dad, and one of my favorite things about him is that you never quite know if he’s telling the truth, but you sure like the sparkle he gets in those green eyes while you’re trying to figure it out. Update: Check this and this out. Could it be true? Look and sound familiar, Daddy? Ah, the power of the Internet.
Okay, so not only does my Daddy have mysterious, beautiful green eyes, but he saw some kickass shows!

Mr. Horne has obviously cut toddler hair before, as he did a great job, and it was virtually painless for everyone involved. (Most importantly, it was not a screamfest display for the other patrons waiting patiently to see Mr. Horne on their lunch break.) He has a television and promptly turned on some cartoons for Rollie as he climbed up on the board set across the arms of the barber’s chair. (Remember that? Or was I so freakishly raised that no one else’s Daddy took their little girl to the barber shop to get her hair cut?) He also has pictures of old cars and military aircraft (there is an Air Force base in town) framed on every space of the wall. Little boy heaven. It even went so well that I took Matilda in the Baby Bjorn to the music store next door. We played percussion instruments, which she really dug, and she now has her eye on a Hello Kitty strat.

After the haircut, we thanked Mr. Horne and then headed over to NuWay Weiners. NuWay Weiners is kind of Macon’s answer to Atlanta’s The Varsity. They also have one in Warner Robins.

I’ve Been Classified and Tagged

Wednesday, May 3rd, 2006

So, my parenting breed has been studied, classsified, and tagged. Seems that Todd and I are Grups. The linked article by Adam Sternbergh has been floating around on the internet for a few weeks now. (Okay, a month. Can we say “Slacker parenting?”) Todd first sent it to me weeks ago, and upon reading it, my first reaction was protestation. “Who does this guy think he is? He doesn’t know me.” After reading the whole article, I knew I must blog about it. I mean, how can i not comment on something that was so truly dead-on about parenting in the 21st century? Anyway, it took me a while to get around to writing this up, though, because damn! i am so busy being a hip Mom that I just haven’t gotten around to it until now. The article specifically discusses Grups in NYC, but Todd and I, and many of our friends with kids, are evidence that they exist in excess in most urban areas.

You can read all about it in the article, but here’s the Grup criteria, in a nutshell:

Owns eleven pairs of sneakers
I own seven.

Hasn’t worn anything but jeans in a year.
True, not counting maternity clothes and workout clothes, and then there are cute skirts. I think the point is that i sure as hell haven’t worn a suit, nor has my dear husband. Oh, except for Lisa’s wedding.

Won’t shut up about the latest Death Cab CD.
Okay, a little off on this one, as i think most self-respecting Grups can agree that it was not as good as their earlier efforts.

Walks around with an IPod listening to the latest from Bloc Party.
Check.

Buys clothes at Urban Outfitters.
Uh, would if I could fit into the fucking stuff. T’s been on a freakin’ old school Goodwill kick lately. Making me want to hit Potter’s House Thrift Store in Athens. If i could fit into the fucking stuff.

Takes Toddlers to mommy’s happy hour.
As far as I know, we can’t do this in Atlanta, especially because Atlanta is not much of a walking city, but sign me up if they start one up. Let’s be honest – Baby Bjorns and Hotslings were made for freeing up drinking hands.

Stays out till 4 am seeing New Pornographers.
To be truthful, we don’t see shows like we used to. . . guess I am not as Gruppy as I thought. We do try to switch off the big shows, so as to avoid babysitting issues. The Pixies reunion was a bit problematic.

Pays $250 for a pair of distressed jeans.
Totally off on this one, as Todd and I would never pay that much for a pair of jeans, but wouldn’t have at 25 years old, either. I mean, we don’t live in New York, for God’s sake. Do people pay that much for jeans anywhere else?

“We will not listen to the Wiggles in this house.”
Or his purple fucking dinosaur friend, either.

Wears sneakers as a fashion statement.
Rollie and I have matching navy Chuck Taylors. Check Tiller and me out.

Wears sneakers to the office.
What office? Oh, you mean the hip Inman Park loft office where Todd works? The one our friend Brian refers to as “the Cartoon Factory?”

Wears a Misfits shirt.
The Cramps.

Makes his two-year old wear a Misfits shirt.
Rollie doesn’t have a Misfits shirt, but he does have “Daddy Drinks Because I Cry” and both he and Matilda wear the same Standard Deluxe tees that Daddy wears.)

Messenger Bag?
Duh. Only losers use real diaper bags.

The article goes much more in-depth about the Grup clothing, career attitude, and musical taste, but you get the picture. The fact that I relate to the likes and dislikes of this bunch isn’t what this is about. Blogger Que Sera Sera’s take is that she finds it annoying that people are making their offspring into Mini-Mes. I disagree, leaning more towards the author’s arguments. Sternbergh points out that this phenomenon is somewhat about “stuff” – IPods, Macs, clothing, shoes, accessories, etc., but also thinks that on a deeper level, it is about being able to enjoy the good parts of adulthood (as he puts it: “a paycheck, family”) and none of the bad stuff (“Dockers, management seminars, indentured servitude at the local Gymboree.”) Amen, Brother!

Mostly, though, the author points out that the phenomenon is about passion:

“There’s that tricky word again: Passion. What’s with the Grups and passion? It’s all anyone wants to talk about. Passionate parents, passionate workers, passionate listeners to the new album by Wolf Parade . . . . And I start to realize: Under the skin of the iPods and the . . . ripped jeans, this is the spine of the Grup ethos: passion and the fear of losing it.”

And for me, that is what struck a chord when I read this article. I do fear the loss of passion. I want my children to see me excited about things, and about new things, not just the things that used to excite me before I had children. I’m not saying I want my children to like the same things, but that i want them to inherit the desire to seek out things that interest them, to stay true to their ethics and aesthetics, whatever those may be. I want my kids to know that while they are my world, they are not the only thing that I love in this world.

Wait a minute. I draw the line at Barney. There will be no Barney in this house. Period.

When the Boys are Away, the Girls Will Play

Tuesday, May 2nd, 2006

I’m a little behind, but here are pics from our girls weekend at the Lake. Okay, well, Rollie was there, but he played along nicely with our girly games. (See picture, below.) I had decided that single parenthood was more fun at the Lakehouse than at home, so I took the kids down while Todd went to Mexico with his boys. Here are the sons of bitches at a bar on the island. (From left: Todd, Jonathon, Ned, and Scott.)


Here is the aforementioned picture of Rollie, with Lisa and Matilda. Yes, Nemo swim diapers are the appropriate bottoms for a toddler to wear with his first bra. (And yes, those are Lazy Boy recliners, in brown and brown, along with the “mediterranean-style” end table that my parents bought when they were first married. They went with the green and white mediterranean-style couch that my sister, poor soul, is still using to this day. Evidently, at the time, they were “the In thing.” Anyone else’s parents have late 60s/early 70s Mediterranean-style furniture, or did my Mama make that one up?)

Tiller and Scar – fast friends.

Rollie fills the turtle pool (our location of choice for the weekend, as Rollie stayed in one place while Lisa, Vanessa, and I had margaritas) with Quint lounging in the background. Also note old-school clothes on the line and fabulous septic tank, oh-so-well-camouflaged by, what else? brown lattice, in the background.

Scarlett and Quint lounge by the pool as Vanessa looks on.

OTTER POPS!!!!!

Rollie, Lisa, and Tiller by the pool.

Rollie, Quint, Lisa, Vanessa, and Scarlett feed the geese.

Tiller and Rollie were unimpressed with her first boat ride. If only I could bottle the nap-inducing powers of the boat – Rollie was out before we left our cove.

Surprise!

Monday, May 1st, 2006

What i did not expect to get for my anniversary?

Food poisoning.

Five Year Pie

Friday, April 28th, 2006

I think I saw you in an ice-cream parlour, drinking milk shakes cold and long
Smiling and waving and looking so fine, don’t think
You knew you were in this song
And it was cold and it rained so I felt like an actor
And I thought of ma and I wanted to get back there
Your face, your race, the way that you talk
I kiss you, you’re beautiful, I want you to walk

We’ve got five years, stuck on my eyes
Five years, what a surprise
We’ve got five years, my brain hurts a lot
Five years, that’s all we’ve got
– David Bowie

(Okay, so it’s not exactly a song befitting five years of wedded bliss, but i’m willing to fudge a little, just to use a Bowie quote.)
Sometimes my brain does hurt, from thinking about how crazy it is that we met the way we did, and thinking about all of the times that we could have met each other before we did, but the fates knew we weren’t ready for each other yet.
Here’s an idea: Let’s get Aunt Eeetsa to watch the offspring, hit Crave for dinner, and then go out and get really drunk. Just like we did five years ago after our wedding. You deserve it, after putting up with my ass for five years. Who knows? Maybe Porn King will stop by at 4 a.m. with Subway. Now that’s romance.
These have been the happiest five years of my life. Despite the five trips to the hospital. Despite the sleepness nights, and the responsibilities, and the dragon poops, and the trappings of adulthood. Despite the football affiliations that repel like two magnets.
I love our mornings together. I love Friday night pasta and ice cream. I love the feeling I get when I think about getting into the Rodeo and opening up your tape case, seeing your nerd fonts, and the smile I had on my face. I love that we can have lunches with the kids at the park. I love our dinner ticklefests. I love our bedtime giggles – You are a dream weaver and you can do magic. I love that you love to cook out, and watch football, and go to a Braves game or the Zoo at the drop of a hat. I adore walking at festivals and junk markets with you. I think the cutest thing ever is when you mix a jack and coke and make the ice clinkclinkclink with your finger. I love driving with you at dusk and listening to Deserter’s Songs or I Can Hear The Heart Beating As One. I love sitting on a windy Oregon coast, drinking beer and watching the sunset. I love playing the jukebox and all day pool with you in New Orleans, and that you would drive to Slidell to traipse hot, wet cemeteries with me, just to satisfy my silly obsessions. I love standing with you on the fortress wall in Orvieto and walking with you in Venice at night. I love that I just knew.
I love that you are up for exploring the side roads – How did I get so lucky as to find a man that relishes the journey as much or more than the destination? Because, really, that is what it is all about: Not the reaching of our goals, but the dreaming of them and working towards them together. That’s the Pie.

Your girl for always,
Annie

Eggcellent Eggstravaganza

Tuesday, April 18th, 2006

Todd, Rollie, Tiller, and I spent the weekend with my parents at the Lake. We drove down on Friday, put the kids down (Rollie didn’t stay down, and was, accordingly, rewarded with ice cream by the grandparents), and my parents stayed with them while Todd and I went into town for dinner. We tried to get dinner at The Brick (can’t even find a website for this place – middle Georgia, people) and ended up at the bar at Buffington’s. We blew my diet (you should see the size of the blue cheese chunks in their dressing,) watched the Braves beat the Padres, checked out the locals (What’s up, Pops?) and saw a short set by a not terrible jazz band. All in all a good evening, and we were home by 11 pm. We retired to the porch for another beer, and to listen to the raging kegger across the cove from us: “Peter, get up here! FUNNEL!!!!!!!!” We almost hopped in the boat and headed over, but they would have wondered who the old folks were.

On Saturday, Todd and Rollie hung out by the turtle pool (that’s Rollie showing off his muscles at the left), and Matilda and I ventured into the center of Milledgeville society, also known as WalMart. This is one of a very few WalMarts, as far as I know, in all of four or five surrounding counties. I think there is one in Eatonton, one in Madison, one in Macon, and one in Sandersville. When you get there on a Saturday, the parking lot is usually 3/4 full, and full of cars from Jones, Baldwin, Putnam, Greene, and Hancock counties. It makes for great people-watching, especially on Easter weekend, when people are all decked out in their Jesuswear. My two favorite t-shirt sightings of the day: “Public Display of Affection,” and “His palms were read to tell your future” shirt, which shows a cheesy painting of the stigmata. (Unfortunately, I could not find a picture of this online. It must be made by a really subversive God Squad group. ) On a side note, do not stand anywhere next to Todd, as he is sure to be struck by lightning any day now for coming up with the rebuttal t-shirt idea, “He Dyed for your sins.” We bought lilies for my Mama, Easter egg dye, eggs, and candy for the big kids (a.k.a. Grandparents and Annie and Todd). My mom had already taken care of the little ones.

We got home, joined everyone at the pool, and Matilda debuted her first swimwear. Unfortunately, I could not find a hat to match, but I am sure you will agree that Rollie’s Diego safari hat looked smashing on her.

After our swim, we convened to the screened porch for egg dyeing. Rollie loved putting the dye tablets into the vinegar and watching them fizz. He also liked to pull the eggs out of the cups with his hands, rather than the little metal egg holder, and then would drop them back into another cup with a plop!, splashing dye all over himself and everything around him. He cried when we cleaned up and told him he had to leave the eggs in the tray to dry.

After the egg dyeing, Todd watched Matilda while Rollie and I went for a short boat ride with Papaw. Rollie had not been in the bass boat before, only on the pontoon. I wish I had pictures, but suffice to say that Rollie thoroughly enjoyed “driving” the boat with Papaw, and his eyes were big as saucers when we actually sped up enough to create a wake. It was really cute and I was a nervous wreck the whole time.

Mama fixed ham, potato salad, and baked beans and i pigged out. This meal never fails to remind me of my Grandma Palmer, who loved a ham, and could just about eat her weight in it. (She used to fix the same thing, but her beans were different – Mama’s have bacon in strips on top, cooked with the beans, but Grandma’s used to have green peppers diced throughout and pre-fried, crumbled bacon on top. I like Mama’s better, but I sure would love to have a bite of Grandma’s again.)

We put the little ones down to bed, then relaxed, played Easter Bunny, and then went to bed. Rollie woke up some time before six (it was dark) and Todd kept him occupied while we made coffee and hid his Easter basket, or as he calls it, his “batshit.” He totally didn’t get the concept, and proceeded to throw a tantrum when we tried to get him to look for his basket. This rapidly disappeared when he realized that the Easter Bunny brings CHOCOLATE.

Toddlers have no off button, and this applies to anything that they love. We finally had to sneak behind his back and hide the remainder of his candy after he consumed about 25 bite-size Reese’s cups
in the span of approximately three minutes. We also had to endure his pleas for “chocolate chocolate chocolate” the rest of the day. Total success!

Mama’s Little Dawg

Friday, April 14th, 2006

For those of you not up on your SEC football, this will make no sense. For the rest of you, read on.

Last night at dinner, Todd prompts Rollie with a

“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrr Ea. . .”

Rollie interrupts with:

“SIC’EM!!WOOFWOOFWOOF!”

There is nothing more rewarding than seeing the fruits of the labor of good raisin’ . . . .

Just a Thought

Thursday, April 13th, 2006

If your fingernails are so long that you can’t push buttons on the ATM machine, and you have to try repeatedly to finish your transaction correctly, while numerous cars are in line behind you, including a van with not one, but two wailing children, maybe, just maybe, that is an indication that you should cut your fucking nails. Just a thought.

Six Months with a Leaky Boob

Wednesday, April 12th, 2006

Tiller, I can’t believe it has been six months! The time has flown by so much faster than it did with Rollie. Not that it was any easier (if anything, it has been harder), but with two children, it is so easy to miss some of the little milestones in your life while changing diapers, fixing meals, and packing diaper bags. I feel guilty about that, but I try to make a concerted effort to take plenty of pictures of you, and to savor the little moments with you. I hope that I do a pretty good job of it.

Lots has happened since you turned four months or so. You will now lay on your tummy for a lot longer. You can lift up your chest and head and look around. You usually are looking for me, or Daddy or Rollie, or at the cats or dog. But then you get fed up with it and start crying and lay your head down. I get frustrated, because i want you to practice tummy time, so that you can start getting on all fours, and then eventually crawling, but I know that when that time comes, I will be sad, and run ragged trying to keep up with you.

You can roll over in both directions now: Front to back, and back to front. You support all of your weight on both legs, and can sit in a tripod with your hands down in front of you. At least until you topple over to the side and start wailing. With support, you can sit up for long periods of time.

You are grasping everything now, including my nostrils, lips, neck, and chest. You just about rip me apart while breastfeeding, and sometimes even hit me in the face. I haven’t quite figured out how to get you to stop, but need to figure it out before you hurt me. Who knew breastfeeding could be such a contact sport? You can switch objects back and forth between hands, and everything in your hands go into your mouth.

We are still successfully breastfeeding. I never thought that I would enjoy it, and sometimes I don’t, but there are moments when I feel so close to you while you are nursing. I love when you pause, look up at me, and smile. It is the sweetest.

I spend a lot of time trying to figure out who you look like. I think you have my eye color, but your daddy’s eye shape. Your nose is mine, but your mouth and chin remind me of your Grandma Johnson. Your eyes started out blue, of course, but now they are just a really strange color. They sometimes look blue, or slightly greenish like mine (not a bright green, but a dark mossy one). You look like you have brown on the very inside of the iris, but lighter on the outside. Sometimes they look grayish. They keep changing, and I suspect that when you are older they will be brownish or brown green, like mine, but probably not as dark as Rollie’s. His are very deep brown. I can’t believe I am saying this, as I have always complained about my curly hair, but I kind of hoped one of you would also have curls. I don’t think you will, though. So far, you and Rollie both seem to have hair like your Daddy’s, kind of straight and wavy. Your hair is lighter than Rollie’s, though. His is a pretty dark brown already, but yours is lighter, and in some lights, almost looks red! I think it will turn out more like my medium brown hair color.

We started feeding you solid foods in small amounts at four months, and now at six months, you have the okay to eat some more. And boy do you ever eat! You cry when we stop spooning the food in, and even harder if we get up and walk away from the table while feeding you! You don’t seem to show any preferences – you like everything we give you! You are also starting to sip formula or breast milk from a cup. You like to hold a spoon of your own while we feed you.

You still sleep great at night, going down at about 7:30 and sleeping until 6:30 or 7:30, when we are lucky. Nap times? That is a different story. I try to put you down a couple hours after you wake up in the morning, but you nap inconsistently. You also go down in the afternoon for an hour or so. Again, it is a crapshoot as to how long you will sleep on a given day. You do a lot of catnaps in the car, though.

You are starting to babble, and coo, and laugh when we do things for you. If anything, we are a family that loves to laugh, so it is great that you are learning to laugh with us.

You still love to be held and walked, and don’t really want to be set down for long periods of time. We do put you in the exersaucer and you will stay in it for a while. But you mostly like to be held. When Daddy holds you in the mornings, you always follow me with your eyes; You seem enamored of me, and that is one of the things that make being your mother worthwhile. Frankly, you can be a difficult baby, and your preference for me above all others is not only flattering, but serves as a reminder that I am the center of your universe and responsible for your happiness and well-being, even when I want to throw you out a window.

You had your six month appointment on Monday morning. We saw Dr. Levine, and he said you looked great. They weighed and measured you. You are a big girl! Here are your stats:

Length 28 1/2 inches (>97%)
Weight 18 lbs (75-90%)
Head Circumference 43 cm (50-75%)

I love you, Tiller! Happy six months!