Music for the Masses

When we have to go to Denver, like today, I love listening to this "oldies" station, 105.1 FM. I put that in quotes because I can't bear the thought/truth that they're playing 80s music on that "oldies" station. Sigh.

Anyway, we're motoring along and I pretty much know every single song that comes on there. I'm famous for knowing a few words to just about every song ever. They're not always the right words, but whatever.

So there I was, belting out the lyrics to "Magic" by Pilot, when I realized, I had a little choir singing right along with me.

What the heck? How did they know that song? Once at an event at the boys' school, the DJ played it and said he'd give a free hot dog to the person who knew who sang it. I sent Declan right over with the answer (because I love hot dogs almost as much as I love being right). He said the band was "Chilot"--WTF???--clearly he was having trouble hearing me in front of the blaring speakers, but the DJ gave Declan the free hot dog anyway. Which Declan then ate before returning to me. Again: WTF?

But there was no way he would know all of those lyrics from hearing the song once two years ago.

Turns out, "Magic" was used in the second Diary of a Wimpy Kid movie, which we own because my friend Rachael is in it so we've watched it at least 100 times. At least. And that's how they know it.

Over the course of the drive today, we were all singing together on tracks by Bon Jovi, Elton John, AC/DC, the Beatles, and there may have been some Queen in there for good measure.

What does crack me up is when they hear an "old" song and say something like "Hey, I thought Flo-Rida sang this!" Then I have to explain about what a "cover" is.

I think it's probably how my parents felt when I was insistent that Kylie Minogue invented the Loco-Motion.

What goes around comes around.

Dear Mother Nature,

March 26, 2009--noon

Dear Mother Nature,
Remember how sad I was in January, February, and even early March when you didn't make it snow in the mountains? OK, you did send some snow to the resorts, I'll give you that, but it wasn't really enough to make the skiing great. I would have given anything for a couple of powder sprinkles here and there and even at our elevation. I hate early thaws that let the nasty brown grass and all of the road grit show. It's just dirty looking and I can't stand it.

Over time I started to accept that fact that we were just weren't going to have much snow after all and that it would be an early spring. I decided I was ready for the warmth of summer. I'm sick of the kids being sick. We just need a good heat wave now to dry up all of the germs that have been festering all winter long.

So when the meteorologists started talking about a snowstorm for yesterday and today, I didn't really pay much attention. That has happened multiple times this winter--the promise of snow, my hopes up only to be dashed with the storm missing us yet again.

The drive to Denver yesterday had its dicey moments, but by the time we hit Georgetown, things were clear and dry. Over the course of the afternoon, which we were able to spend at an outdoor museum, the wind picked up, the temperature dropped, and we headed to. . .Chuck E. Cheese. I know, this goes against all I stand for, and yet, I did it anyway.

The news people said you would do it, Mother Nature, but I didn't believe them. So many times this winter they said you would send a storm, and yet, you did not. So when The Worst Storm of the Season was predicted, I was a doubter. Eight to 12 inches in Denver, they announced. Measuring it in feet in the mountains, they warned. But frankly, I didn't really hear all of that until I was already in Denver. I'd been in Utah after all and was out of the weather loop.

When we woke up this morning, there was a mere sprinkling of snow. Ha, I thought. You call that a storm? We went to breakfast and then prepared to head out. And there it was. The Worst Storm of the Season had actually started and you weren't messing around this time. In fact, after about an hour of heavy snow and high winds, it became readily apparent that we would be held hostage in Denver for the next day. Hopefully no more than that.

We're holed up in a hotel in Littleton. Fortunately there is a pool. Unfortunately, the room is very small. All they want to do is eat. This could get ugly.

So, Mother Nature, while I would have wished this to happen much earlier in the year, I'll not harp on and on about it. I'm mildly inconvenienced, but am glad that I didn't actually start the drive home and get stranded so that I had to sleep in a shelter along the way somewhere. This is great news for the resorts and hopefully it will bring people to the mountain.

I'll also be grateful for the nice day we had yesterday. Could any two days be more different?

Anyway, sorry to bend your ear, but I think it's time for spring. For real. You waited too long and missed your chance, so let's just get on with it, OK?

Sincerely,
Natalie


I am delighted to discover Little House on the Prairie dolls in the museum gift shop. I didn't purchase them, however.


Heading through the outdoor life museum in Littleton. It's sort of like a mini Ohio Village for those of you who live in Columbus.


A farm friend.


Checking out the outhouse.


Lambing season is here. Just in time for Easter dinner. Kidding. I'm totally kidding. Maybe. "Sonny, true love is the greatest thing, in the world-except for a nice MLT - mutton, lettuce and tomato sandwich, where the mutton is nice and lean and the tomato is ripe." Name that movie.










This turkey kept trying to peck my lens. I think their heads are kind of freaky.


Looks like spring to me. Or not.

Declan is Going Bald

Well, apparently I have to take back everything I said about Declan. He has registered to shave this Saturday!

Declan's St. Baldrick's Page

And there's no turning back. He gave a presentation to his class today, asked for donations, and invited everyone to watch him shave. Oh dear. Will there be tears? What about that giant flat spot on his head from when he was a baby? It's going to be out there for God and country to see now.

So go Declan! I need to buy some hats. And some sunscreen.

Finn and I are in Denver at our favorite hotel: Hampsten Fun and Suites. Not the actual name, mind you. This is how Finn reads the sign.

Tomorrow he has a sinus CT at 9am and then over to the clinic for what might be one of his last IViG infusions. Then we'll likely have his port taken out in April. Why the sudden rush? Our insurance company notified us they were dropping us as of May 1. Nice.

I Wish I Could Call in Sick

If it wouldn't expose me as a sniveling whiner, I'd call my mother and ask her to call the companies I work for and tell them I'm too tired to work tonight. And then she'd also need to call Declan's teacher and tell her I'm too tired to ice 50-odd heart-shaped cookies for the Valentine's Party tomorrow. I'm also too tired to go to the Valentine's party tomorrow. But I'm the mother coordinating the party, so I guess I should be there.

Why? Why? Why am I so tired? Because I spent last night in a hotel with Finn Rooney who persisted in bouncing off the walls until nearly 10 p.m. making it difficult for me to do my client work until after he finally fell asleep. Then he proceeded to snore, snort, flail and generally thrash about in his bed for most of the night so that when I did finally get to go to bed, I woke up every 3.2 minutes or so.

We went to Denver on Tuesday for Finn's bloodwork and IViG. It was cloudly in Eagle, but dry. By the time we made it to Vail, we were in a full-on snowstorm that lasted until Georgetown, which is typical. As we crested the last of the foothills of the Front Range and dropped down into Denver, Finn looked around and said, "Why is it spring here?" And it did look really funny to me, too, and it seemed bizarre to think that we got in the car and there were several feet of snow at our house and then we were getting out of the car and didn't even need coats. It was like a weather time warp or something.

Finn's counts are good: ANC = 2700. I can't remember if I wrote about this before, but we had his eyes checked in November because his chemo nurse felt like he was squinting. So I took him to WalMart and the doctor (but now I wonder, how qualified was this guy???) said he was fine. But Finn's squinting continued and his teacher even commented on it. So yesterday the oncologist checked Finn's eyes and felt he saw something that wasn't quite right. We were able to squeeze into an appointment at a pediatric eye place (I'm sure "eye place" is the technical term they prefer to be referred to as, don't you?).

Lo and behold, Finn does indeed have a problem with his eyes--astigmatism. The doctor said he felt this is something Finn would have had regardless and is probably unrelated to the chemo. Good--something I can finally not blame on cancer. I'm sure cancer is relieved.

So The Mighty Finn will be getting glasses. Depending on the moment, he is either happy or unhappy about this. Tomorrow, depending on the snowstorm that is supposed to come through here tonight, we'll go to Glenwood and pick out some glasses. I can't even picture Finn with glasses! He's very worried people with make fun of him, like Arthur's friends did in "Arthur's Eyes." Why, oh why did I show him that video yesterday at the clinic? Now he's all paranoid. I'd better to hide the episode of Little House on the Prairie where Mary gets her glasses and all the kids make fun of her. . .that is until she realizes Miss Beadle also wears glasses. I don't understand what difference it really makes because was Miss Beadle really that cool? I guess to Mary she was. And I definitely don't Finn to see the LHP episode where Mary's glasses start a prairie fire! He'll be out on the sidewalk assassinating ants with his glasses all summer long.

At any rate, after both clinic and eye appointments were finished, we would have been driving home from Denver in the dark, which just isn't my bag, baby. I hate to sound like a big wuss, but driving around in the wilderness where big things like deer, elk and bighorn sheep leap off cliffs at you and you wipe out trying to swerve on snow covered roads, well, it's just not my thing.

I talked to a very unhelpful young man at the American Cancer Society who claimed I had never left him a message on his voicemail and that's why I didn't have a hotel room, and I had to fill out a new release form (which I had never filled out to begin with) before he could make any phone calls to any hotels, yadda, yadda, yadda. . .I actually had to cut him off in the end and hang up on him. I know that sounds mean because the ACS has been very helpful in the past, but this guy was decidedly unhelpful and I was out of time to sit there and listen to him blather on.

I ended up making my own reservation and we stayed at a very nice Hampton Inn and Suites. When we got there, it was like the country cousins arriving in the big city. Finn walked in and was saying, "Whoa! Wow! Look at that!" And on and on. You'd think this child had never stayed in a hotel before let alone traveled internationally on multiple occasions. He ate dinner at the desk in the room, ate popcorn in bed and watched movies on the portable DVD player while I worked, and ate a gourmet breakfast of Sugar Corn Pops and a biscuit. He was so overwhelmed by his journey that he didn't know what to do with himself. What a letdown he'll face when he wakes up tomorrow back in his own bed.

Which actually sounds really good to me because the 50-odd heart-shaped cookies are still there waiting for me. Mom?