PICK YOUR COLOR

Have you ever identified something in your self that was so essentially WHO YOU ARE as a person that you had to share?  This is that post.  So essentially Laura, in the most idiotic way.

I have been getting my nails done regularly for a while now.  Not often enough, as I usually wait until my polish is half grown out, I believe this form of self-care works for me but I'm also too cheap to make it a habit.

That's not the self-discovery.  I actually like getting a mani-pedi once I am there and it's an indulgence I can afford, so what the hell is the problem?

"Pick your color," the guy says, so nonchalantly.  He doesn't understand;

1. I NEVER pick the right color.

2. I doubt myself FOREVER about something as stupid as color choice.

3. I could go 15 minutes early, and still not be OK deciding.  All those choices in front of me.  Sometimes, I'm sure and then the color on doesn't even look close to what I picked.  Sometimes, I just point to something when they ask, going with my gut.  Sometimes, I pick, then change my mind by the time they get to my nails.  Sometimes I check the internet beforehand for something that looks good.  It is so much self-doubt I can't believe I actually call this an enjoyable activity.

Last time I went to a new place and LOVED the color of my nails.  It was an absolute miracle.

So today when I went back, I hemmed and hawed.  Do I get a variation of the color I loved last time?  Do I go completely opposite?  I wound up choosing a bright pink for my toes and an ocean variety (aqua lite?) for my nails.  Not the craziest decisions I've ever made.

I didn't hate my toes.  But while they were being painted, I could see the color I chose for the nails.  It mocked me.  Would it "match" the toe color?  (No, I never do.)  Would it be too dark, too disappointing, too noticeable?  I sat and literally stared at the chip display that the guy had thrown on the chair next to me.  My choice sat and stared me down.  It said "You sure you gonna like me?"  I thought, that's silly, nail color is on for like a month, then I can change it to anything I want...not a huge commitment.  But you are paying for this says my self-doubt, are you absolutely sure you even LIKE that color?  This goes on and I glance back at my choice ALL PEDICURE long.

I walk from the toe station to the finger station.  Riveting journalism, I know.  Sitting there is a light bluish purple, a color I "normally" default to.  It's just sitting there at his station already.  Nail technician says "Is this your color?"  I actually speak up and say "No, I chose a greener color."  He goes to get up but then I add "whatever, that color is fine."  WHY DID I DO THAT?!?

He does a double take and asks "Are you sure?" Because who would just slap a color they hadn't chosen on their nails?  Me.  That's who.  I assure him it's great then every fiber in my being fights to pull away when he applies the color I JUST TOLD HIM WOULD BE OK.  What the hell is wrong with me?

I sit staring at the color now.  Does it have sparkles?  It is bluer than I thought.  Does it go with anything?

I am ridiculous, and I know it.  And I NEED every possible choice in life to make a decision, then second-guess that decision, because there were too many choices.  After I cannot go back on the choice I made, I am still thinking about whether or not that was the best decision.  

And its nail color.  And I'm anxious...about something that will only last a month.  And that's me, in a nutshell.

  

A Story To Tell At Parties

So, I've been watching Ted Lasso Season 2 for the past week.  Great show, which, among other things, is about relationships with fathers and mental health this season...which is a bit of a problem,  I'm not finished watching the season, so no spoilers.   But spoiler alert, my father died last week (or at least I found out my father died last week).  And he's always been a bit of a trigger to my mental health...so there's that.

Here is the story I need to get out so I stop waking up at 2am thinking.  This is a story told from completely my perspective and my truth, no sense arguing with me on this.  

One day, when I was 12, after having a perfectly normal life and a completely normal childhood with 2 parents and 4 younger siblings, the bottom fell out.  One day, when I was 12, I had a science report due and the printer wasn't working.  My Mom called my Dad at work...but he wasn't at work.  He had called in sick.  (He had called in sick to get his girlfriend help with her divorce.   Ooops!)  So, in one day I went from happy-go-lucky 12-year-old kid who made $12 a week in allowance to a kid whose Dad came home, packed a bag, left and never came back.  And when I say never came back, I mean it.  It was out of sight, out of mind (for him at least). 

So here I am (a 12-year-old kid) with a Mom who cried all wknd, a sister who was 10, and 3 brothers aged 7, 2, and 6 months.  I distinctly remember counting and recounting the dinner plates for weeks after that, because if I set the table with one too many, the earth would stop spinning or possibly swallow me whole.  

So, he wasn't completely gone, just mostly gone.  There was a few hours on either Saturday and Sunday where we had to go with him and the girlfriend. (In the screenplay version of my life, she's wearing vaguely inappropriate clothing and constantly checking her watch).  They were not the most...stable pair and that's the nicest thing I can type right now.  I remember once a brother threw up on her and I was so proud of his intestinal tract's judgement I could have cheered.  I might have cheered when back at home!  

But that was it.  No phone calls, no letters, no communication besides these visits where we mostly went bowling.  To this day, I hate bowling, all it reminds me of is all the sad dad's visitation hours with their kids afternoons on wknds at the lanes.  Lanes and lanes of us divorced children and their Dads they hardly ever saw.

SO, have I mentioned I was 12?  Seventh grade, had great friends, good school.  But now we have to move.  We had only moved to PA for Dad's job and Mom's family was in Ohio where we had lived most of our life.  She needed a support staff (5 kids will do that!) And she went from stay-at-home Mom back to a teacher (she had been one before I was born) and she still had her Ohio teaching degree so off we went...

...To a good enough duplex apartment in not the best/not the worst (think industrial?) neighborhood to play out an entire month of 7th and then go to a completely different 8th grade.  I believe my brother went to a different school every year for most of his elementary education...and he's definitely the most social of all of us so it didn't scar us completely.  

But it did leave scars.  In my 46 years on this planet I have often played the "who had it worse game".  My youngest brother never knew my Dad or remembered any part of him.  I had lived 12 years in a sitcom family (one with a killer, singable theme song for sure!) and then had the rug ripped out.  Is it better to have loved and lost or never to have loved at all, Mr. Tennyson?  I'm honestly not sure.

Mainly, my Mom didn't talk bad about my father but from phone calls and cousin whispers I had learned my father quit jobs when they would garnish his wages for child support for HIS 5 KIDS.  He prolly would have died owing child support but my Mom essentially gave up at some point.  We were poor.  My high school had a food drive which I donated to, then a friend told me she had just delivered the donations to MY house poor.   I was mortified.

There was a week over one summer we had to live with him, his girlfriend, and the girlfriend's daughter.  I swear to you the girls name was Crystal (as in meth).  The things I remember about the trip in order 1) My brother almost drowned at the water park he took us to and they kept calling my father's name on the loudspeaker over and over. 2) I got my period and had to tell him I needed supplies.  He assumed it was my first one ever.  It was not.  3) His girlfriend would keep telling us how good of a Dad he was (mainly to her daughter) and that he cried thinking of us sometimes.  Who tells that to a kid much less 5 kids who DON'T have their Dad?  (Screenplay prolly has things kids don't notice like LOTS of alcohol and recreational drugs in the house...and it was kind of a shack, and hoarding may or may not be involved.  Crazy definitely had settled there for the long haul if you need a mental image.)

So, I got older and grew up, went to college, eventually moved out of state.  Specifically, I moved to Iowa when I was 23 or 24.  

There was news (between wild silences, someone usually heard from him about once a year but never a birthday card or a "just thinking of you call.")  Our father was getting married again but the fiancé wanted him to reconcile with his kids before tying the knot. 

Sometime around here, my father wrote me the most immature letter where he played the victim and I wasn't having it.  I read it, reread it, hid it, found it, read it again and it made me SO angry.  If I knew where it was, I would burn it right now angry.  I wrote back, I was in my early 20s and have no idea what I ended up writing.  I was mad though.  I was young but his horseshit wasn't getting past me.  I was done.

My brothers and sisters might have gone to the wedding, honestly, I was out of the house and I have no idea.   I could ask, but then I'd have to tell them why...and that's a weird conversation to have with them.  ("I was writing a blog, how old were you when...wait, no, not a podcast, a blog was a thing like 20 years ago and I still do occasionally because I'm old.")  I'd rather just put up my guts to strangers on the internet, thankyouverymuch!!

Here's the burying the lede part of the story.  I was left off the obituary.  I'll never know if it was accidental, on purpose, or if his wife even knows I exist and that is frankly, just plain odd!  All my other siblings were named.  Out of order, but all the rest are there.  Do you think they are in by how much he liked them order and I just didn't make top 4 out of 5?

So at parties I have the best/worst story starter.  So, you think YOUR father is bad?  I was left off my own father's obituary!  (In the screenplay, we're at a house party and the record scratches and stops and everyone walks away from the circle in haste.)

Trying to take the high road? and not leave a "BTW you skipped me but thanks for giving me life!" on his condolence notes but one of these days at 3am when I can't sleep I might accidentally? do it.

We were not notified of his death in any way, shape, or form.  We completely missed the wake and funeral simply by not knowing they had occurred.  Not that we'd go if we were invited.  But by God, it's the digital age people, we are gonna find out.

Apparently, after doing some cyber sleuthing, my father was sick for 10 months with cancer and never bothered to let us know or make amends.  I had aways envisioned a death bed apology and all I got was more crap.  Coward.  

Wait, I sound angry.  (Ok, maybe I AM angry, wouldn't you be?)  Honestly, I don't wish his second family ANY harm.   Weirdly, we have felt their pain, if anyone knows about Ron's absence, it's us.  I will never meet them or speak to them about all the why's.   But seriously "A devoted...father...who was passionate about spending quality time with his family." was a little tough to take for his first family.  His step son wishes his daughter "can meet someone like her Grandpa" to which I say be careful what you wish for buddy, if she shows up on your doorstep with 5 kids and no money you've only got yourself to blame.

Honestly, the hero in their story is just the villain in mine.  I'm glad my father eventually got his act together and had a family, I just wish he could have bothered to be in any part involved in his first family's lives.   He had 6 amazing biological granddaughters and I'm not sure he met any of them ever.  Again, I'd ask, but....

My truth is, when they set my oldest daughter in my arms in the first moments of her life, it wasn't my first thought, but while I lay with her in my arms I knew I wouldn't speak to my father again.  If he could have this moment with not just one, but 5 kids and NEVER communicate with ANY of them after the age of 25 (I'm being generous there) I was done.  Someone who has 5 children should be capable of picking up a phone, texting, heck, he was old, even facebooking a child once in a while.  Silence is NOT golden to a son or daughter and now that's all we'll ever get from the other end.  

Too many questions left unanswered.  One big what?  Crap of a Dad?  At least with him being dead, it's far easier to get why he doesn't ever pick up a phone or text.   Dead Coward Dad with no cell phone plan.  (the screenplay might end this scene with just a big middle finger.)

Now, onto happier posts about crap that doesn't matter!  And maybe I will get back to Ted Lasso now and be able to sleep through the night.

Proof I existed once in his world.

Hey look, obit, he had two daughters!  Spoiler alert: the first girl is snarky!

Dear MLB,

I have a problem.  I know you are busy...it's All Star Week.  I get that, but hear me out, huh?

My family loves baseball.  In fact, I'm listening to a game right now.  My Cleveland Indians are winning. Yeah!

Is this a problem with the name change for the Indians?  Nah.  I get it.  Should have been changed years ago probably.

My 13-year-old daughter loves baseball because her Mom loves it because her Grandma loves it.  It's a long standing family love of the game.  My mother used to deliver cakes to players on their birthday.  Can you believe that in her lifetime she could get in the gate with a cake and hand it to a player?  Is this a "players are out of touch" complaint?  Hell no.  No one should be able to hand food to players, that's just dangerous...and gross.

Look again, my daughters, myself, and my Mom are all HUGE fans,  Is this a baseball is sexist problem?  Nah, well, it IS a problem but that's a whole different post.   I'm letting you slide on that one, take the win.

We have gone to different games for many years.  Milwaukee, Cleveland, Minneapolis, and even Spring Training in AZ.  I was even lucky enough to snag All Star tickets when they were in Cleveland, a once in a lifetime experience for my family.  Is this a tickets are too expensive post?  Nah, I get it.  Inflation and contracts are expensive.

 

I went to a game last Saturday night, and we had a great time.  Sure, my niece couldn't eat because the lines were too long. Am I just a Karen who wants to complain about food lines and prices?  Nope.  This year has been mad and I'm sure it's a problem across the board getting staffed and product into stadiums.  I totally get it. COVID sucked.  So grateful we can actually watch a ballgame live this year!  Can't complain about that.

What I don't get is one specific problem I have.  It's incredibly specific to me and my area.  But MLB, I don't get it AT ALL.  There are many reasons I could be mad (please see above), frankly it's hard to be a fan anymore!  Please don't make it any more difficult.

But specifically, here it is.  I live in the middle of nowhere.  The nearest MLB ballpark from me in Iowa is 3 hours away (not counting the Field of Dreams which will host their first game in a month...can't wait to watch on TV!)  My daughter (and I) would love to watch MLB games and talk to Grandma about them.  I tried to get MLB Network and here's the issue.

Are you kidding me?  I don't live ANYWHERE near these places!  I get a blackout in your hometown but a one/two punch of 1) No parks within 3 hours of your house and 2) My blackout region which includes 6 teams including 4 AL Central teams?  I repeat, are you kidding me?!?!  Even if I paid MLB for TV I'd only get the Tribe once in a blue moon.  Is this fair?  KC is a 6 hour drive, STL is 5.  This is CRAZY for FAN who WANT TO PAY YOU MONEY & keep the younger kids interested in baseball.  You're killing me Smalls!

I'm usually a 'find a solution instead of just present a problem' gal but I don't have the slightest.  Fix this or you bleed young fans, no?  Or is it just a fly-over state problem??  They call it the heartland for a reason!  Seriously, how is this helping the game?  Who designs regional areas?  Please fix this.  Please.

My team just won the game I can only listen to, so I'm gonna go.   Wish I could have watched that walk off tho.  Any thoughts MLB??!!

It's the end of the world as we know it...and I feel fine.

To be clear...I was born for social distancing.  As a toddler, I coined the phrase "plain day" as in "Mom, when is the next plain day?...it's exhausting having things on the calendar like preschool and library story hour."  I longed to be schedule-free.  I also hate hugging.  I could easily be on lock-down for months and be A-OK.  This is my kind of pandemic...although we've never navigated through this kind of thing in my lifetime and the first time I'm out of snacks, I might pack it in.

Speaking of snacks?  I have a 4-person family and I still shop in bulk at Sam's Club once a week.    Don't feel sorry for me--I have what feels like a dozen streaming services...I'm not hurting for entertainment.  My walks give me some therapeutic time, my kids give me my necessary aggravation time.  I'm just living the dream here people!

My husband, however, is not loving this.  He's constantly talking to people, now on the phone.  We just got back from Florida and he found out he's quarantined for 14 days from work and threw a fit. I don't know if he's just delusional or stir-crazy.

So...let me be real.  Chad thinks we should have stayed in Florida.  I'm not gonna lie, socially distancing in sunshine and 85 degrees is just plain better/easier.  We could see and hear the ocean from our room...not bad if you can get it.  But you'd also need groceries and TP and to be quarantined   (who ever thought I'd need to figure out how to spell THAT on a regular basis?!?) when we got back.  If we could get back.  Illinois went on lockdown hours after we arrived home from O'Hare.

Being on vacation while the world was breaking was weird.  I wanted to watch the news and crawl up in a ball and worry.  Chad was the opposite.  If he didn't know, it wasn't happening.  Yet, every day we were in Florida, things got a little more restrictive.  Day 1, the breakfast buffet spoon was still touched by everyone and no precautions were being taken.  Day 5 felt more militaristic and "war-zoney."  By the time we left, the beach and pier were closed, but we ate in a restaurant our last night so carry-out restrictions hadn't dampened the mood but we did get to see them lock the pier down from our spot at dinner.  Weird.

Turning in our rental car was crazy.  I had never seen a place with so many cars!!  They ran out of room to turn them all in.   We couldn't find a rental car in Miami because they were all here in Ft Myers. Abandoned by people who gave up on their vacations already.

The airport was packed.  Where were all the people who were staying home?  Even tho the airport wouldn't put more than a dozen people on a shuttle bus, the roads were packed on the way home.  Trust me, even on fish fry night, not everyone was grabbing take-out.

My facebook page is littered with shut-in advice.  Medical staff saying "I didn't stay home so you should." I get it.  I just don't know how long we'll actually do it.  I'll admit, that scares me a little.  I'm now hunkered down for the long haul...are you?!!?

End of Days...(Pre-end)

So let's just throw this out there...I'm gonna go take a nap during a zombie apocalypse.  My wait-and-see attitude has got me on the fast track to nowheresville.  I'm OK with that.  Every summer, I joke to my coworkers that I will see them in the fall...unless I've written that book...and I've NEVER written that book.  My default is on the lazy side.  I commend all you job-a-day-ers.  The ones with clean tupperware drawers and closets.  That's not me.  I'm saving all my work for a rainy day.  Now we have mandatory shut-in time and I'm all like...well technically, spring break is not over so....

Let's talk Spring Break...shall we?  I started mine a day early (last Friday the 13th...should have seen THAT coming, huh?)  My husband is a risk-taker and despite the Corona scare---we were still going on a cruise...with the kids.  Since we couldn't get our money back, I was OK with that thinking that the chance of them not cancelling was slim.   He called the cruise line earlier in the week and they said it was still a full boat, extra cleaning measures were being taken...it was all good.  (**They are now being sued by shareholders for flat out lying, but we didn't know that yet.  Except we totally knew that, right?!)  We took off from home at 4am Friday, drove to Chicago then flew to Miami.  We got into Miami just in time to hear rumors that our cruise was about to be cancelled.

Chad pointing to the actual ship we could not get on due to Covid-19.

We scrambled to the hotel kinda shell-shocked.  If it was up to me, I would have grabbed our bags and headed right back home.  But my husband had better sense.  We grabbed our bags, an uber and headed to the hotel near enough to the port that we still saw a cruise ship leave Friday at 4pm.  Our company we heard was classy enough to board the Friday passengers, then KICK them OFF before announcing the cancellation of all their cruises.

Miami was a beautiful disaster.  We were up to our eyeballs in rumor and speculation.  Was our cruise really cancelled?  We called...they were having a meeting at 5pm and then they'd get back to us.  In the mean time, we looked for another place.  I wanted to stay in the US because who knows what was happening and I was not getting stuck in Mexico or somewhere else.  Chad had always wanted to go to the Keys and his brother was in Ft Myers FL on vacation.  Checked the weather...Ft. Myers it was. Rented a place, talked about renting a car, we were moving and grooving and figuring things out.  Then I went to dinner...and drank.

When life gives you lemons...order a hurricane!

Our view of Miami from the hotel room.

That morning we rented a car.  Funny thing about a rental place, they can rent you a car, then when you get there they can have no cars and they are just like..🤷shrug?!  Guess you'll have to try someone else.  This happened to Chad 4 times.  Finally we ubered back to the airport and sat in line there waiting for a car.  We learned many things.  No flights out of Miami had any room.  When you cancel a bunch of cruises and thousands of people have to get home, it's kinda tricky getting all those people home again.  Also, when there are no cars...you might get one that smells like pee and not even care...that much.

The good news was from American Airlines.  They were so kind and flights out of Ft Meyers were $36 per person.  American Airlines were the only full service customer service we received from all this clusterfudge.  I'll go on record, the lady I got was a saint.

The good news...we found an opening at a condo in ft Myers for Sunday.  The bad news...it was Saturday and the worse news---we'd need to---gulp---bring our own toilet paper!  More tomorrow.    

To DO or not to DO...that is the question.

All my life, I've looked at good art (music, theater, writing, stand-up) and thought to myself...YES!  I NEED to do THAT.  I learned this weekend that bad art can have the same affect.  You see, somehow I got caught watching the Invention of Lying with Ricky Gervais and Jennifer Gardner and it's a TERRIBLE movie.  It made me think, hey, even I can do better!

I used to wonder what I was gonna BE when I grew up.   Then I found radio and loved it, then that whole medium died a horrible death and I tried something a little less creative.  Since having kids, I've been in the same job for years and it's very little brainpower after hours.  Kids are getting older and flying solo more so I should be doing SOMETHING else creative, but what?

I've thought podcast, sure, with my background in radio that should be easy but it's also intimidating.   I have to find a topic (motherhood, Seinfeld-like observational comedy, and BNL?) find time to record, find a co-host, design cover art, edit, and find an audience besides my mother.  Does it count as podcasting if you just create it and NO ONE listens?

Every summer I joke to my co-workers that I'm going to write my book while on summer break and not be available come fall when school starts again...and every year I lounge and find other things to do in my downtime.  Never gonna be a book.

We recently went to LA and there is money in creative thinking there.  LOTS of money.  But no one is just gonna find this terrible blog that I publish 4 times a year and think "Hey, I really need that girl on my staff," even though that's what I want.  I don't want to put in the work, but I want the final product.  I'm ready for my second act but a little lazy when it comes to preparing for my next big thing.

I used to believe it was coming around the corner, my chance to make something of my life.  But I'm 44...that chance might have gone by without me noticing.  I am VERY bad at directions.

So, what's next?  It's a 3-day weekend so I'm either going to watch my weight in netflix, disney+, and YouTubeTV (can we just say that content is CRAZY right now?!  How can I possibly have time to watch every show I want, it's ridiculous!) Or, I'm going to finally DO something.  Stay tuned.

Save the Date!

I have always been a planner.

I like things organized and I like schedules...my sister used to make fun of me for putting “take shower” on my to do list.

I have also always, OK, most of my life LOVED one band.  Before I loved one man and married him, I fell in love with my musical husband(s), Barenaked Ladies.  

I fell hard in college with their album Born On a Pirate Ship and Rock Spectacle (If you pronounce it Speck-tacle, I will have to hurt you (just like “those in the know,  don’t throw”—BNL fans get the reference.)

Anyway, I worked at an alternative radio station (remember when those were a thing??) in Cleveland, Ohio (my hometown) and the morning show co-host Tobin loved them and he made me love them.  I saw them live so many times that first year, it was incredible.  They toured non-stop and because we were just across the lake they came to Cleveland A LOT!  

Every show was so fun and different.  These guys had a sense of humor!  They interacted with their audience!  I fell...hard.  Well, I danced and sang and I’m not THAT coordinated so I prolly literally fell too.

Ed was always my favorite.  The first time I met the band I was the nerdiest of the nerd.  Let’s just say before Big Bang Theory (Bang!) made nerds cool, there was me.  I was alone, my radio pass only admitted one.  I brought each guy a Kraft macaroni necklace.  I was wearing the most hideous shirt...which I still own.  

I used the necklaces as an ice breaker to talk to each guy (cringeworthy!) and Ed was so disarmingly friendly (damn Canadians!) He told me he could get something for me to drink and I must have had pure panic on my face because he then told me “Like a Pepsi, it doesn’t have to be alcoholic!” (I just did the math and I was 22!  😂)  If I remember right, he wasn’t drinking either.  He talked to me about his dog I think.  

I’m sure I couldn’t string two sentences together, but I wanna say he even introduced me to the other guys in the band (Steve, Jim, Tyler, I don’t think Kevin was there but it was a lot of years ago.) He prolly just wanted to share the wealth so he wasn’t stuck talking to needy me the entire time, but he didn’t make me feel like he was handing me off.  He was sweet to a star-struck giant-rimmed glasses girl.  When I got home from the meet and greet at Club 1142? 1148? 11SomethingOrOther I turned on the TV to find out Princess Diana had been in a car accident and died.  That’s how long ago it was. Before the everyone had notifications on their phone...before everyone had phones!

Anyway, I saw like 20 shows in a year.  I went to a tent in Pittsburgh (still my fav show), I saw a million crappy festivals (it was the 90s and everyone had a festival, even our little radio station.  I believe BNL played there two years in a row in fact.) BNL definitely did a noontime Christmas show for the station too and I used to have a cassette of that.  (Have your grandparents explain that hot audio item kiddos cause we’re moving on.)

I bought every album, went to every show within 3 hours, bought up ALL the merch.  FOR YEARS.  I played only Barenaked Ladies songs during the dinner portion of our wedding.  I have their book, videos, keychains, a belt buckle I’ve never worn, and a lot of signatures.  My husband has been my plus one on so many inconvenient nights many hours away from our house (now in Iowa BTW). This summer, it was 110 degrees and they were the opening act and I danced and sweated to their music more than I’ve ever sweated in places I didn't know I could even sweat.

I am saying I am a fan.  A big one.  I have shadow boxes of tickets, pictures, and signed t-shirts hanging on my walls.  

So in this age of incredible asks and random viral acts of kindness, here’s my question.

I would love BNL to play in my town for my 50th birthday...in six years.  I'm not even talking about a pathetic backyard barbque.  I have a friend who runs entertainment for a big concert/casino venue here. I have friends who will sell out this show.  (At least I hope I do.)  

I would love for BNL to pencil in Sat, September 27th, 2025 as a concert date in Dubuque IA (we have an airport Ed so you can fly in, you pilot you!). Technically, my bday is on a Monday and you can’t get a least desirable day of the week, but I am not picky and willing to settle for ANY date you have open in September, 2025.  October even!

You don’t get what you don’t ask for 100 percent of the time.  So I’m throwing this out into the universe.  I would LOVE BNL to play in Dubuque IA in fall 2025.   How bout an Autumnal Equinox show guys?  Guys?!?!  

I have loved you long time. (If you put an accent on that last sentence, that’s on you.) The world is weird.  You never know what can happen.

A college kid in my state just raised $2 million dollars for a children’s hospital after throwing a marker and messy poster board together asking for beer money!!  

(Incidentally, he just got into hot water for some tweets he made at age 16 which you do not have to worry about with me because when I was 16, Twitter wasn’t invented yet...prolly not when I was 26—just looked it up, thanks Google! turns out I was 30!)

So, BNL if you would be so kind as to at least entertain the idea or allow my people to call your people (you know I don’t have people, right?)  

I don’t deserve this, I’m not saying I’m owed.  Simply, I am happiest when listening to your live music and I want my 50th year to be a celebration of my happiest times, so please consider this wholly not-at-all tempting offer and keep a date open for me.

Thanks Universe for getting this love letter to my fav band in the land, Barenaked Ladies —who hopefully have google alerts and are notified of this completely random blog which at least a dozen people have read (13 if you include my mother).

XOXO BNL

Laura

PS I actually went back and read an old post I wrote and have been thinking about this for at least 15 years...that's dedication...or a sick obsession.  Tomato/tomahto.