Erin Shaw Street

Solid food is overrated

Tonight we fed Nate solid foods for the first time with a spoon. Rice cereal was the choice. As you can see, he would have much preferred a nice prime rib or perhaps some cheese fondue. Lola, however, would have gladly eaten the rice cereal. 
More photos are in the "Nate August" album to the right.

Is This Our Future?

Tonight marks Hoover's entrance into the reality TV arena with the debut of MTV's "Two-A-Days," a Laguna Beach-esque documentary show that depicts the dramatic world of high school football. We'll be watching so we can determine if we should enroll Nate in the Pee Wee feeder leagues or if we should just groom him for chess playing. Birmingham News Story

Why I listen to the same music I did at 16

Yesterday on "All Things Considered" there was a great story called, "Does Age Quash Our Spirit of Adventure?"by Robert Krulwich.

Here's the description:

  Robert Sapolsky, a distinguished neuroscientist in his 40s, had a young assistant who played different music every day, from Sonic Youth to Minnie Pearl. That made Sapolsky crazy -- and curious about why his aging ears still crave the music he loved in college. Is there a certain age when the typical American passes from the novelty stage to utter predictability?

Turns out there is. Sapolsky's studies found that we are most open to new music between ages 14 and 21, and that by 35 if we haven't listened to it, we probably won't. So now I know why I'm still listening to They Might Be Giants over and over again.  He's also found people are more willing to to try sushi during certain periods of their lives (haven't had it by 39 ... probably not going to he says).  I am completely intrigued by this and the idea that we are more open to adventure and new experiences during a realy small window of our lives. Note to self: upload some new music to ipod. Stop listening to The Smiths. Link to audio story on NPR

Luxe childcare and Fallen Idols

Today was Nate's first day to stay with his Grandma and Grandpa during the day. He's going to be visiting with them three days a week while his Mom and Dad earn money for formula, diapers and mirrors in which Nate can admire himself (his new favorite pass time). As you can see, it's just no fun at all at Grandma and Grandpa's ;)

For August photos of Nate, check out the new pictures in "Nate, August" at right. And, I highly recommend Dad's best of their Transatlantic Adventure, posted on his site, which is located here

Link to Dad's blog

Several people have asked for a recap of last week's "American Idol" concert here in Birmingham. Yes it was just about as cheesy as you could imagine, complete with Taylor singing quite possible the worst song ever, "Do I make you proud?" I don't hold it against Taylor because he didn't write the song and has been as honest as he can be in interviews by saying that it's not exactly the kind of music he'd like to play. I still think he won because he has that everyman quality about him, though judging by the roar of the crowds you'd think it was John or Paul.

My favorites = Paris' homage to Beyonce (that girl can sing and dance all over the stage), the "Men of Idol" doing a paired down version of Guns N Roses "Patience" (ah, what does Axl think about that?) and the rather odd choice of George Michael's "Father Figure" by Ace. It was just weird to see a bunch of eight-year olds singing that song. But I'm all for more George Michael in any form.

But perhaps the craziest thing that night happened outside the BJCC. We're walking to the parking lot when we pass a guy who looks somewhat familiar. He's trying to give away CDs; no one is taking them. One of my concert companions turns to me and says, "Do you know who that was? That was Corey Clark," aka the one who accused Paula of seducing him. The best part was no one wanted the CDs and all you could hear was, "Wasn't that the guy who ..."

New York Doll

Early this evening, as Nate coped with cutting his first teeth (he's doing OK but not so crazy about the whole teeth thing so far) I watched an oustanding documentary. "New York Doll" is a snapshot of Allan Kane, the bassist for The New York Dolls. Link to "New York Doll" film When I ordered this on Netflix I was just curious.

I'm a bit ashamed to say I don't know much about the Dolls, despite the fact that they were pioneers who influenced so many of the punk, indie pop and yes, even glam bands that I so love. The documentary isn't a "Behind The Music" account of the band (in fact the director states that he didn't want to do a straight historical account of them in a bonus interview with him). Instead, it is a brief, inspired look at one individual, his rise to fame and his brief redemption ... along with his rock and roll-turned-Mormon existence.

It's a good story, even for people who haven't the slightest interest in punk or the LDS Church. And a bonus -- Morrissey is interviewed throughout. You just can't beat that.

We're going to sip Bacardi like it's your birthday

So I'm turning 30 in less than two hours.  I meant to write an epic post about all of the things I've learned during my first three decades, but the reality is, as the Carpenters so aptly put it, "we've only just begun."

I have spent a lot of time recently going through old photos and journals. Came across this tidbit that I wrote in my senior year journal. I like the part about being a writer when I grow up "even if I have to write on garbage."  Sometimes I wonder what the 16-year old me would think of the 29, OK, 30 version of me. She'd probably wonder where the Doc Martens went and when they got replaced by patent leather heels, which she'd say while she was climbing out her bedroom window at 2 in the morning (sorry Mom and Dad!). She would think the whole ipod thing was pretty amazing, but might think I was lame for having Barry Manillow on there. Actually, I'm fairly certain of that part.

When I was 13, I wrote a letter to myself about the things I really liked and hated. I wrote that I loved The B-52s, garage sales and books. I said I disliked George Bush Sr. Now all these years later things aren't much different, minus a younger president named George. In other ways things are entirely different.

All I know is I have been blessed with an amazing three decades so far: with indescribably wonderful parents,  siblings and family,  the most supportive and caring husband and an amazing son who delights me each day with the joy that spreads across his entire face. I have  loyal and funny friends, two wacky pugs and a community of people in Birmingham who make this place feel like home. All of these people indulge my antics and angst and help push me to become a bit better most of the days. I have a job that inspires me and lets me interact with remarkable people daily. Plus I have Tivo, a Dyson and a subscription to Entertainment Weekly -- what else could a girl want?

For all of these things I am thankful.

Now can I eat cake?