Something
Yesterday was JEB's 10-month birthday and Husband came home from work and said that he could tell that I needed to go out and celebrate. Wonder what was the clue … the red lipstick at 3 p.m. (Clinique: Vintage Wine), the toddy in hand, or the sippy cup being used as a microphone to sing Indigo Girls songs? So we packed the car (and for those of you who don't have kids, I really mean that we PACKED THE CAR) and headed downtown with the intention of hitting the honky tonks. If you are trying to get pregnant, then WARNING WARNING WARNING DO NOT READ DO NOT READ, I REPEAT, DO NOT READ THE REST OF THIS ...
Instead, we ended up in a van down by the river.
OK, so we weren't in a van, but we were down by the river. We tried to have drinks, but Our Little Prince decided that he preferred climbing out of the highchair and onto the top of the table, sucking on imitation sugar packets, and submerging his dirty hands into our ice water all while whining continuously for half an hour. We only got one beer down before we retreated. The people around us were giving us dirty looks as if we had any control over the situation. As if children should be seen and not heard. As if, in this case, they should not even be seen. (Except I could tell that they all thought he was cute, because seriously, no matter how damn unbearable he is, he is still so friggin' cute that we always take him home with us even when we have to leave a watering hole because of his behavior and even when we pass a homeless woman on the street who is saying "oh baby sweet baby" and it crosses my mind to ask if she wants him, but even then, even when there are other viable options, we always take him back home with us.)
On the way down to the river, I had time to do some people watching and let me tell you, downtown Nashvegas is RIPE for people watching. If you want to see rednecks then go to a Nascar track (which I have done by the way). If you want to see Rednecks On Vacation, then come to Nashville. They are always in better form when they're on vacation, and it wasn’t even Fanfare. Do y’all know about Fanfare? It’s a springtime event where the country stars sit at folding tables in a big park and sign various items for their fans. Anyway, despite the fact that it was just an Ordinary Saturday Afternoon, here are a few things I noticed...
First, there were numerous ball teams (in uniform) with mom-like chaperones wearing Keds and white pleated shorts with their purses dead bolted to their bodies in fear of mugging. In these groups there's always a "T.J."
Next there's the middle-aged, our-kids-are-out-of-the-house (although not away at college, mind you) group. The women are leather from the tanning bed and are window shopping at "Tootsie's Boots and Taffy." The men are tagging along behind, trying to entertain their wives by finding fun things to do like ride in the horse-drawn carriages that stink up Broadway Avenue. I saw one group trying to convince a woman with a broken arm that she could indeed take their picture despite her injury and here, here, here's the camera (a disposable waterproof variety) and then after the shot (which stopped us dead in our tracks on the sidewalk) saying, "See there hun, you did it, broke arm and all."
There's also the 14-year-old, wannabe-the-next-Leann-Rimes karaoke queen, with her parents, dressed up in an entire outfit from the J.C. Penney's juniors department (not that there's anything wrong with that ... mind you, I have my share of junior's department, slutty tank tops). Her image prevents her from even carrying a purse and the whole family is standing in line to get into the karaoke bar so that she can be the first on the list. Her mama is chewing gum and wearing enough lipstick for a glamour shot (not that there's anything wrong with that ... mind you, I have had my nights of Entirely Too Much Lipstick). Her daddy has on some home-made cutoff bluejeans and some of those brown sandals that were popular with socks in the early 90s (now there IS something wrong with that). Her overweight younger brother is just along for the ride. They ate dinner at 3 p.m. at the Crab Shack just so they could be in line at the karaoke place by 4:30 p.m. because it opens at seven o’clock sharp and there might be talent scouts.
And then of course there are the old people exiting vans that have taken them around the city to look at the country stars’ homes (most of which are dangerously close to our house, I might add). They are sweet and smiley and oh look at the cherub-like baby in the stroller with his church-attending parents. They don’t notice that we are about to commit child abuse.
I’ve already told you about the homeless, so that about sums up downtown Nashville.
We never made it to the honky tonks.
Down by the river ended up being fun, and if you click on the picture above (which is going to be explained if you will just be patient) then you can see how absurd we are.
After rolling around in the chemically-treated grass for a while and taking idiotic pictures of ourselves, we got hungry and decided that JEB was going to have to endure a restaurant whether he liked it or not. So we headed to our favorite Mexican place from The First Time We Lived in Nashville (back in '01-'02 -- kidless newlyweds, ah, the memories ... several near-divorce-level fights and lots of drinking). Luckily, the restaurant was almost empty and they sold margaritas by the pitcher.
It was here that I took the photo that adorns the top of this post. I took it because Husband had just said, “I really like the art here. We should get some like this.”
Lord God in Heaven, bless his heart. Could it have been the fruit-covered booths or the bull knick-knacks or those tall, Catholic cylindrical candles with Jesus all over them that they sell at Kroger? (Why do they sell those at Kroger?) At any rate, I couldn’t resist documenting at least part of the décor. And then he said, “You know that guy, Ross, from ‘Friends’ – the one that was the voice of the hypochondriac giraffe in the movie, 'Madagascar'? I used to live by him in Chicago.”
How did I find such a gem? People, I found My Dream Man. Could life get any better than living in a park with an anti-honky-tonk-even-though-you-live-in-Nashville baby, and a house decked out in Mexican Restaurant Art married to Husband?
The answer is no, by the way. You know you’re jealous.
So there is a happy ending to the story. We didn’t get home until 7:30 p.m. and as a result, The Tiddy Rat missed his usual bedtime and slept in until 8 a.m. and that That THAT is why we continue to bring him home with us (unexpected extra sleep).
So there. This post was not about nothing. It was about something. Something "everyday." Something you may think is boring and weird. But "something" nonetheless.
Toodles.
Instead, we ended up in a van down by the river.
OK, so we weren't in a van, but we were down by the river. We tried to have drinks, but Our Little Prince decided that he preferred climbing out of the highchair and onto the top of the table, sucking on imitation sugar packets, and submerging his dirty hands into our ice water all while whining continuously for half an hour. We only got one beer down before we retreated. The people around us were giving us dirty looks as if we had any control over the situation. As if children should be seen and not heard. As if, in this case, they should not even be seen. (Except I could tell that they all thought he was cute, because seriously, no matter how damn unbearable he is, he is still so friggin' cute that we always take him home with us even when we have to leave a watering hole because of his behavior and even when we pass a homeless woman on the street who is saying "oh baby sweet baby" and it crosses my mind to ask if she wants him, but even then, even when there are other viable options, we always take him back home with us.)
On the way down to the river, I had time to do some people watching and let me tell you, downtown Nashvegas is RIPE for people watching. If you want to see rednecks then go to a Nascar track (which I have done by the way). If you want to see Rednecks On Vacation, then come to Nashville. They are always in better form when they're on vacation, and it wasn’t even Fanfare. Do y’all know about Fanfare? It’s a springtime event where the country stars sit at folding tables in a big park and sign various items for their fans. Anyway, despite the fact that it was just an Ordinary Saturday Afternoon, here are a few things I noticed...
First, there were numerous ball teams (in uniform) with mom-like chaperones wearing Keds and white pleated shorts with their purses dead bolted to their bodies in fear of mugging. In these groups there's always a "T.J."
Next there's the middle-aged, our-kids-are-out-of-the-house (although not away at college, mind you) group. The women are leather from the tanning bed and are window shopping at "Tootsie's Boots and Taffy." The men are tagging along behind, trying to entertain their wives by finding fun things to do like ride in the horse-drawn carriages that stink up Broadway Avenue. I saw one group trying to convince a woman with a broken arm that she could indeed take their picture despite her injury and here, here, here's the camera (a disposable waterproof variety) and then after the shot (which stopped us dead in our tracks on the sidewalk) saying, "See there hun, you did it, broke arm and all."
There's also the 14-year-old, wannabe-the-next-Leann-Rimes karaoke queen, with her parents, dressed up in an entire outfit from the J.C. Penney's juniors department (not that there's anything wrong with that ... mind you, I have my share of junior's department, slutty tank tops). Her image prevents her from even carrying a purse and the whole family is standing in line to get into the karaoke bar so that she can be the first on the list. Her mama is chewing gum and wearing enough lipstick for a glamour shot (not that there's anything wrong with that ... mind you, I have had my nights of Entirely Too Much Lipstick). Her daddy has on some home-made cutoff bluejeans and some of those brown sandals that were popular with socks in the early 90s (now there IS something wrong with that). Her overweight younger brother is just along for the ride. They ate dinner at 3 p.m. at the Crab Shack just so they could be in line at the karaoke place by 4:30 p.m. because it opens at seven o’clock sharp and there might be talent scouts.
And then of course there are the old people exiting vans that have taken them around the city to look at the country stars’ homes (most of which are dangerously close to our house, I might add). They are sweet and smiley and oh look at the cherub-like baby in the stroller with his church-attending parents. They don’t notice that we are about to commit child abuse.
I’ve already told you about the homeless, so that about sums up downtown Nashville.
We never made it to the honky tonks.
Down by the river ended up being fun, and if you click on the picture above (which is going to be explained if you will just be patient) then you can see how absurd we are.
After rolling around in the chemically-treated grass for a while and taking idiotic pictures of ourselves, we got hungry and decided that JEB was going to have to endure a restaurant whether he liked it or not. So we headed to our favorite Mexican place from The First Time We Lived in Nashville (back in '01-'02 -- kidless newlyweds, ah, the memories ... several near-divorce-level fights and lots of drinking). Luckily, the restaurant was almost empty and they sold margaritas by the pitcher.
It was here that I took the photo that adorns the top of this post. I took it because Husband had just said, “I really like the art here. We should get some like this.”
Lord God in Heaven, bless his heart. Could it have been the fruit-covered booths or the bull knick-knacks or those tall, Catholic cylindrical candles with Jesus all over them that they sell at Kroger? (Why do they sell those at Kroger?) At any rate, I couldn’t resist documenting at least part of the décor. And then he said, “You know that guy, Ross, from ‘Friends’ – the one that was the voice of the hypochondriac giraffe in the movie, 'Madagascar'? I used to live by him in Chicago.”
How did I find such a gem? People, I found My Dream Man. Could life get any better than living in a park with an anti-honky-tonk-even-though-you-live-in-Nashville baby, and a house decked out in Mexican Restaurant Art married to Husband?
The answer is no, by the way. You know you’re jealous.
So there is a happy ending to the story. We didn’t get home until 7:30 p.m. and as a result, The Tiddy Rat missed his usual bedtime and slept in until 8 a.m. and that That THAT is why we continue to bring him home with us (unexpected extra sleep).
So there. This post was not about nothing. It was about something. Something "everyday." Something you may think is boring and weird. But "something" nonetheless.
Toodles.
posted by Kimpossible @ 7/17/2005 08:24:00 PM
1 Comments:
At 9:35 AM,
KayJayPea said…
Niiiiiiiiiice -- I love the kitsch-y "mule & buggy" ceramic decor -- glad you got a photo to refer to now when decorating... (definition of kitsch: often pretentious bad taste, especially in the arts...) Hee, hee...
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