Erin Shaw Street

Another trip back to Vulcan

Five years ago today, standing underneath a bare bottom pagan statue, I vowed to attend at least one Alabama football game each year.

 A quartet played The Turtles. My brother sang Elton John. And all of our closest friends and family nearly passed out from heat exhaustion. Then we all ate fried green tomatoes and sushi and danced to the tunes of a DJ who was being fed a steady diet of Jack and Cokes from the bridesmaids.

Each year on May 22 we go back to Vulcan and have our picture made in the same spot. The view gets more interesting every time.

Two Southern Girls In Las Vegas

Stephanie is my best friend.

We met the first few weeks at South Carolina. I don't remember the details of our first conversation, but it probably had something to do with what color our freshman council student government T-shirts should be.

I remember walking in front of the Russell House with her. She was wearing penny loafers and I was wearing Doc Martens.

Fast forward about 14 years, and we have been emancipated by our younger, less shoe forward selves. But we are pretty much the same 18-year olds with the same interests:

Elvis, watching people, malls

Once we went to Memphis for the annual Elvis Tribute Artist Contest and spent the weekend with about 100 Elvi. Who else would want to hang out at a Holiday Inn with Elvi from around the country, with an after party at a catfish cabin?

Stephanie is pretty much the funniest person and one of the best writers I know. She is also more steeped in pop culture and Southern references than just about anyone. Only she can talk NASCAR, yacht rock, 19th century poetry, contemporary issues in journalism and PR, "90210," interior decorating, chow chows, modern military history, and shoes -- often all in the same conversation.

We are going to Vegas for a girls weekend next Thursday. Having been many times before (see above), we're looking to revisit some old haunts and see some new things too (it's been five years since last time we were there together). Our agenda thus far:

Tour of the Neon Sign Museum
Cirque's "Love"
Liberace Museum
Big Elvis Live and in person
Purple Reign Prince Impersonators extraordinaire (we saw them on our last Vegas trip in 2004)

Also considering going to the Rat Pack Tribute show and perhaps the Vegas Mob Tour.

Here's my question: What else do we need to do/see/experience? Restaurants? Shopping? Clubs? Do tell. Have I mentioned that we are exceedingly fun?

My run in with Coldplay Live - Birmingham

Shane always says that I have the best luck, and I guess it's true that crazy things do tend to fall in my lap. I swear I don't try to get into the shenanigans that I do.  Like tonight.

We'd gone to see Coldplay and Pete Yorn at the Verizon Amphitheater. On any other Alabama May night it would have been 97 degrees, but it just so happened to be about 49 degrees tonight.

Although I was enjoying the ever so cheekily British humor and stylings of Chris Martin and his band mates, I was freezing and kept thinking we should just leave. Finally, after wavering a bit and convincing myself that it was OK to head out early, I decided it was time.

Then, as we were walking out, we were stopped about halfway out by security who told us we couldn't move. But the electric blanket was at home!

Within moments I was again thanking the stars for aligning just right. The band walks out into the audience and gets up on a tiny stage not more than 5-10 feet from us. We were literally in the front row of throngs of people to see them, all quite by accident.They played three songs from up here, including the Monkees' classic "I'm a Believer." I tried to ask Chris if Apple would care to have a play date with Nate but I don't think he could hear me.

Still, it was a nice visit. 

The moral of the story = sometimes it's good to be cold, and to be old, and to leave early. Or just to be in the right place at the right time.

Ye Olde iPod, Norfolk, and a headstand gone awry

 Last night I bid farewell to a longtime friend -- my 6 and a half year old, second generation ipod. Although many had laughed at the world's oldest ipod (saying things like, "does it have a crank?") ye olde ipod sang me through many a flight, drive and workout (OK maybe not that many workouts).

Since I have a playlist for everything (including labor and the long detour I had to take after a portion of I-59 went up in flames) this 2003 ipod was well used and always by my side.

In the past year I'd found new uses for it, using it to record all my interviews and even DJing a fundraiser a few weeks ago.

You went out with a bang old girl. And I'm looking for a shadow box in which to frame you.

In completely other news, here's what else has been happening this week:

Vosages Haut Chocolat Barcelona Bar

In honor of my trip to Spain one year ago, I bought a .5 oz bar at Whole Foods today and it is incredible. Made with hickory smoked almonds, sea salt, and deep milk chocolate, the bar comes with instructions on how to fully enjoy:

"Breathe ... Close your eyes and take three deep ujjayi breaths.
See ... There should be a glossy shine to the chocoalte bar, including a good temper.
Smell, Inhale the chocolate, fruit, herb or spice notes deeply through your nose ..."

And it goes on. The best part is that is actually *that* good. I first discovered Vosages chocolate by sampling their Bacon Bar, and have been reading more the company in "Yeah Dave's Guide To Livin' The Moment: Getting To Ecstacy, Wine and an Ipod Playlist."

The Chrysler Museum

I visited this museum in Norfolk, VA earlier this week and was blown away by its "Art of Glass" exhibition. In a small world moment I saw a beautiful work by Stephen Powell, whose sister is a former colleague. Also ate Turkish food for the first time ever at Pasha's. It was delicious.

Yoga Headstand: Achieved, Rotator Cuff: Banged Up (Again)

I've been working on getting into a headstand for a while now. Here's a little secret: a headstand is a little more difficult than, say, down dog. The other night, after being completely stressed out, I decided to work out the drama in some poses. Great idea, except for the part about going for the headstand. After one brief moment of upright glory I tumbled over, only to meet the shooting and familiar pain of the rotator cuff muscles I messed up during trapeze lessons.

One painful massage, several days of Aleve and non-stop ice and heat later, I'm going to save the super yogi poses for later.

Finally, today two great things happened today. One, Nate finished his first season of soccer. Great because he got over soccer after about one game, so the rest of it was pretty much us standing by the side of the field sizing up snacks of the day. Ah, the legendary Shaw athletic ability (minus some notable exceptions).

The second was I met three great Birmingham bloggers today. All happen to be moms, and we shared some great conversations over sushi today. Check out there sites here:

Fabulously Frugalicious

Will Blog For Shoes

Kristen Stewart Photography

Today's convo really got me fired up about launching a brand new blog. Yeah, I've been talking about it forever, but I think I might just have gotten the good swift kick I needed to get to take some more steps in that direction.

One step at a time.

Happy Mother's Day!

This morning I was in the mall, shopping for luggage and instead buying a Michael Kors tunic. But that's another story. So I was in the mall, standing in the better sportswear department, where I saw (and heard) and woman screaming into her cell phone: "We are NOT a dysfunctional family" at the top of her lungs. Veins were popping out of her neck and she was turning red. And all around me were guys looking at ugly heart shaped pendants for their wives for Mother's Day. This is family?

Thankfully Shane knows I don't want a heart shaped pendant. I bought myself a new suitcase later in the day. And I won't feel bad if there aren't flowers tomorrow morning. Sure, I want to be appreciated but I'd like to think that happens in the every day, not just on a certain Sunday in May.

I am a good mom. Three years after having Nate I am starting to get that. Starting to accept that "good" doesn't mean knowing to bring orange slices to soccer practice or being home every night. Good in the way that I bring him a book from every place I travel, and am excited for the day when I can take him with me. Good because I'm encouraging Nate to be his own person, and showing him what that means.

I hope that I can be just a little bit like my mom, and her mom, and my dad's mom. Rosemary (mine -- the one on the left dancing during one of our family basement parties) is the one everyone wishes was theirs.

She drove back to school way too many times to pick up textbooks I forgot, took me to ballet, theater, saxophone lessons and calligraphy class, went on public access TV to talk about how important it is to take kids to the library, saved up money to send me on my first trip to Europe at 15, taught me that a trip to the mall can cure all ills, found me a homecoming dress with gold lame and had a matching bow made and let me go -- to Africa when I was a teenager, to a big city when I was not much older. Welcomed me back when I made mistakes (a lot of them).

My mom gave me the  most amazing gift you can give a child: the lesson of unconditional acceptance. Anyone who knows Rosemary knows she looks beyond what a person looks like, or the labels we put on them, how much money they have, and with whom they choose to live their lives. Rather, she celebrates all of that, inviting people into her home and to her heart. If Rosemary Shaw is your friend you will have a friend for life.

I wish everyone could be so fortunate to have a mom like Rosemary -- a true cheerleader. She's kinda a rock star.

But I come from a long line of fantastic women. Her mother, Emily, was forbidden to date a Catholic boy named Thomas. So one day, while riding the subway with her family, she stepped off and never looked back, even though she knew her family would disown her.

That's part of how I got here. Although Nani has Alzheimer's I know her story, and remember the love that she gave me. (That's her and Mom with Nate when he was a teeny.) My other grandmother, Catherine Shaw, was another strong woman with an independent streak to last a lifetime. I cherish the letters that she wrote me in her perfect penmanship, and the books she left for me.

How lucky to be blessed with strong women -- some biological mothers, others not. To my aunts, friends, and mentors -- Happy Mother's Day. And to the kid that calls me mom -- thanks little dude. And to that poor woman in the mall: forget "dysfunctional." Have fun.

Related Links:

Southern Living Mama Blogger of the Week" Mother's Day Edition

New Orleans, You've Won Me Over (Jazz Fest 2009)

It's no secret that I haven't always been a fan of New Orleans. To be fair, before last weekend I'd only been once -- New Year's Eve 1999 (remember that time that everyone thought the world just might end? Y2K? Oh yeah.)  It was a bad time to see the Big Easy -- crowded event, zillions of people. My impression of the city was not favorable: I thought it hot, dirty, and rather annoying.

So how to remedy that? Go back the weekend of another huge weekend. Jazz Fest 2009.

Now that I've been back home for 24 hours I can share this: I still think New Orleans is hot, dirty, and rather annoying (at least parts of it are). But I also know that it has amazing food, crazy people, stories that practically hit you on the head, and a ridiculous share of history, music, tragedy and character.

I've learned the New Orleans is much more than Bourbon Street (gross) and beignets (yum). It's filled with people with grit and edge, that stare adversity in the face and say, "let's go get a margarita." Gotta dig that.

JazzFest itself was brilliant. It was about 90 degrees, with 100,000 people packed into a relatively small space, but everyone pretty much got along in rocking out.

We stood for eight hours straight, and every bone in my body now hurts, but it was worth it to watch Kings of Leon play their Southern rock served straight up, to pose with costumed parade marchers, and to generally take in the masses.

In honor of my first JazzFest, and first good New Orleans experience, here's my top ten list (+1) from the JazzFest weekend, in no particular order:

• Meeting a girl from San Francisco (see right) who brought her travel hula hoop all the way to JazzFest (on the plane). When we started talking about hooping (a new found interest of mine) she gave me her turquoise hoop. Quite a conversation starter for the rest of the concert ....

•   Watching Amy eat her first ever raw oyster at the Acme Oyster House. Seriously, some of the biggest and best oysters I have ever eaten.

• Meeting a new Twitter friend at the Acme Oyster House. He and I were Tweeting and noticed what we were doing. So we became immediate Twit friends, and messaged each other throughout the weekend.

• Getting our palms read in Jackson Square by a palm reader with a dog named Bagel. I learned that I was "highly creative," "fiery," and "prone to moodiness." You don't say.

• Listening to Cowboy Mouth sing "The Avenue," about New Orleans' rebirth.

• Meeting local booksellers in the "Books" tent at Jazz Fest. Could have spent all day here.

• Climbing over some poor soul who fell asleep by the elevator on the fifth floor of the Whitney Hotel.

• Meeting the coolest group of friends from California (not related to hoop girl) who made us laugh.

• Discovering all the funky shops on Magazine Street. Forget Bourbon, this is where it's at.

• Eating an omelet at Gott Gourmet stuffed with Gruyere cheese, caramelized onion and the freshest shrimp.

• Rocking out to Kings of Leon. Dang.

So there it  is. I'm a convert. What are your thoughts: New Orleans: your thoughts?  Let me know in "Comments."

For more photos, check out "Jazz Fest 2009" album at the right.