I love Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass. I couldn't embed the videos, either. I was singing this one when I walked the Evo tonight. I don't think anybody heard. I'll retry an embed just for kicks.

I'm listening to GCon on lds.org.

How comin' this website all funkied up?

It's not as difficult as, say, ordering tickets for a concert in Israel. The hardest part is getting past the fear that this is a clone site and some malicious fan is stealing my identity. To that I say have at it. Take my debt and mental record. I want neither.

I'm still listening to GCon. It's the priesthood session, but it's online. I'm being a fly on the wall.

lunazure said

Arlene's Grocery. Found a recent article that goes with that. leslee, didn't you run to that one from the show before that???

Thanks for the memory. Yes. I ran across Manhattan, dressed like a viper, with Naked Guitar Boy yelling at folks to get out of my way. I was the last one in the door, and I got to see/hear the best version of "Nights" ever. Justin tricked us in the end, though. He asked Mike to play a song or two, and then he slipped out the back - never to return. I made my way back to my car, but I wasn't sure where I was because I had asked so many directions. My solution? Ask directions. The strangers were super and led me in a circle, which I realized when, thinking I was halfway back, Mike Dawes ran past me, I saw a group of familiar petite blonde fans, and then there was Udo and Justin in the SUV. I had been on the road and only heard of the second gig because I have to blog six days a week for a nonprofit. Kawai Guy helped me figure out where the venue was even though he wasn't going to go. I had thought it was on the other side of the bridge, so I would have really been out of luck without his assistance.

lunazure said

Hang there, sorry about missing money (I know it wasn't you)

I'm thinking it has to be me, actually, unless it's a test.

lunazure said

The tough part was taking keys away from him. Quite a fight but as I yelled at the poor old guy, I didn't care if he wrecked himself and his car, but doggone if he was going to run over a mother and her little kids on my watch.

The boss' brother took the keys away a couple years ago, at which point he said he would order a new set, expensive for a BMW. The brother gave in and told me where he had hidden the keys. The worst of the episodes was when he was driving to a political convention out east, got pulled over by highway patrol and sent to the hospital. His car was impounded, and I got the call to come rescue him. That I did, and the boss decided he was going to get his car out of the pound. Since I work for him and am not family I felt obliged to follow orders. We got the car out, and he insisted he would drive it the rest of the way. I insisted on following him, as I did not want to be responsible for any MV deaths. As it turned out, he could not hold his lane. We found out later he had a problem with the muscles in his eye that was distorting his field of vision and making it look like a scary steep cliff off to the right side. The oncoming headlights of vehicles made the cliff appear, and so he would swerve into the oncoming traffic. I saw this 100-200 times, and each time I felt that electric shock go up my left arm. My heart was acting up for days afterward. He has good guardian angels, though, since every single car speeding in the fast lane managed to pull off on the shoulder when he was driving like a heat-seeking missile. A good Samaritan saw something was up and pulled in front of him and put on his emergency flashers, so he was sandwiched between us. I didn't dare turn on my flashers, as I was sure he would take that as an affront to his perfect driving. Was I ever relieved when the cop car pulled up beside me. He pulled the boss over and I said he was my charge. I parked my car at the McDonald's and drove him the rest of the way to the convention and then drove back to the ranch. The next day was the funeral of the sister of a good friend of mine. I was expecting I would play the piano, but I sorta had to hitchhike back to Icard to pick up my car. It worked out nicely. I was no sooner on the Interstate than a kindly couple going the other way turned around and took me all the way to my car. They really went out of their way to make sure I had a safe trip. So much goodness from folks. Ever since, the boss never hesitates to remind me how terrible my driving is, and that if he were my driving instructor, he would give me an F. But hey, he gives me time off for Moodies concerts so I can't complain.

lunazure said

My solution to many things is take a long bath and read a good book. Hope all the Moodies are on planes headed home, sleeping.

Things like that aren't so easy. When I moved I was so happy to have my own bathroom. I imagined soaking my aching bones to sleep after a long, hard week. But then my landlady's auntie got out of jail and started sharing the bath. Then, her daughter was expecting so she, her boyfriend, and her first kid got in the bathroom action, too. I first learned about this one Sunday when I woke up and had to go to the bathroom. People just kept going in in front of me. I finally went down the road to a coffee shop. It made me mad at first, but while praying it occurred to me that I had nothing less than I had before. I just had to live with a bath time that made me get up an hour earlier. I haven't taken a bath 'cuz I'm a judgmental priss afraid to sit in a tub shared with people who act like they're sharing needles. The family of four was since kicked out for disrespect, and now I feel guilty, like I'm not helping enough with Asheville's homeless problem. Lots of trailers in the park have four cars in the drive. We can't all have those spiffy, up-to-code, subsidized apartments like they have in the city.

I hate driving in New York Planet. I was in an accident with a guy I think was a member of the cabbies union; after that, every cabbie was swerving into my lane. Another time, my car stalled out every time I stopped. That was nerve-wrecking, as I am not aggressive, and so kept slamming on the brakes and stalling. I think it had something to do with off-brand gas I got on the way up. I also hate the tolls and the delays on the toll bridges and the fact that everybody's a visitor so nobody can give directions. Another thing I despise is the way nothing on a map has the same name as the signs show. After I've been there a couple days and remember how the highways are marked, I start saying, "I love New York!" I've never met a rude New Yorker, but have encountered only the best. Another old story was the time I was running so late for a Justin show, I determined I would park in the first space and hail a cab. I found three spots in a row and parked in the middle and called a cab. I was so frantic, I had forgotten to check where I had parked until I was well on my way to the venue. I remembered what the building looked like at least. So, after the show, I was wandering around looking for clues. One nice guy said was clueless, too; but invited me to join him for coffee if I couldn't find it. Another was too wound up to sleep. He had just written a lover with whom he had broken up a letter. He committed he would stay with me until we found my car - and he found it! The amazing thing was I had chosen the parking space with a fire hydrant in front and gotten a ticket.

The weird thing about my boss was I had been told by a highway patrolman and a hospitalist to not let the boss drive. His license was coming up for renewal, and his brother and I just assumed he would fail the road test. The boss, however, decided to go (I drove.) to the DMV at about 4:45. The bureaucrats were itching to go home, so they waived the road test requirement. I was left wondering what I was supposed to do to enforce what the powers that be wouldn't. The state said he could drive. Should I be a thief and steal his license or a bully and fight him, even though he weighs about 240 pounds. Eventually, however, he decided he didn't want to drive, and so I've been chauffeuring since. The worst part was shopping because he would like to stop at the men's room for an hour everywhere we went, and I had to hang out staring at the cinderblock walls. Now, he lets me do the routine shopping on my own - and I lose money by the $70!