Music Monday - "A Little Respect" by Erasure

True story.

I was a freshman in high school, only 14 years old, and had a crush on our marching band's 2nd Drum Major*, Kurt Aufderheide. He was blonde, blue-eyed, tall and Mormon. (Now that I think about it, I had a thing for blondes in high school.)  I do not think that I ever had a real conversation with Kurt; he was a senior like my brother and ate lunch on the upper quad, whereas I was with all the other freshmen by our lockers, too scared to leave the safety of a mass group.

One afternoon, I called our local pop radio station, Star 100.7, and requested that they play a song.  The conversation went something like this:

DJ: Star 100.7! Who is this?
Me: Ummm. Glynis?
DJ: Hey Gwyneth, what's going on?
Me: Uhhh, can you play a song for me? A Little Respect by Erasure?
DJ: Sure thing, who do you want to dedicate this too?
Me: (not expecting this) Oh, um? Kurt Aufderhide? *stunned that this came out of my mouth*
DJ: Ooo! Is this your boyfriend?
Me: NO!!!
DJ: Well does he have your number?
Me: I'm sure he can figure out where to get it.
DJ: Alright then! Here's Erasure with "A Little Respect" going out to Kurt Aufderheide from Gwyneth!



Even though the DJ called me Gwyneth, everyone knew it was me. Didn't matter though because I taped it onto a cassette (did you know they record those conversations during the commercials, not live?) and planed to give that tape to Kurt.

The next day at school, I got up the nerve to take the tape to Kurt (I think my phone number was written on the outside.) He was surrounded by a bunch of girls and somehow I got the nerve to break in and give him the tape, say a squeeky "Hi!" and run away.

He never called.

And I think he got a Mormon girlfriend a few weeks later. She was blonde, blue-eyed and played the trumpet. AND A FRESHMAN!

Where's Kurt today?

In Baghdad. Being awesome. Getting awards. And political stuff. Working on labor issues and probably solving world hunger.

Me?
Jets for the 0.01%.
Living the dream!

We won Tournament of Champions that year. 1992 Field Show. And if you don't believe how awesome marching band can be, you gotta check out this video... of us... THE EMERALD BRIGADE!



*The 2nd Drum Major is at the back of the field, so that when you march facing away from the front, you can still keep in time. 

I Spy With My Little Eye

I really need a mug.  I asked Joe Black to bring me back one from Orlando. Wonder if he'll remember. In the mean time, I'm using Styrofoam which is killing Trish the Dish quite slowly.

In the above picture, you can find the following things:
- Teapot full of peppermint tea
- R2D2 if he were a mouse
- love letter that is acceptable to be seen in public
- Sweet n Low, the only sweetener I use, a family favorite since 1965
- My brother, Hubs, me and Mom (though you can really only see me and Kylae

The Shaming of Flash Jordan

"Oh my god what the EFF is that?"
I'm on the other side of Kylae's loft but I can hear him clearly.
"Flash! Is that poop? What.. what the what? What IS THAT?"

I walk over and look down at whatever his dog has done.
(sigh)


This sums it up.

Today is my birthday

I'm 34 today. It's not a special number or anything.

I didn't get any presents.

Or cards.

Turning 34 is interesting because 34 of my Facebook friends said some version of "Happy Birthday" on my timeline and some of them were pretty funny. (I liked Bueno's comment "This should be a National Holiday" the best.) It's National Clown Week. I effing HATE Clowns. And Zombies. Especially Clombies.

I had seven calls; three of which I was able to answer since I was at a work off site*. (KylAE, Devo and Brad actually got a hold of me. Kudos to Karla for the first call... and both Mom and Biggie Sue for singing. I totes saved the message from Glo cause not only did she 1) give birth to me but 2) has an awesome off-key and gloriously happy singing voice.) And my work peeps did wish me a HBD when I arrived. Not to mention, Trish the Dish spent 4 hours laboring over those those amaze-balls cinnamon rolls.

Two text messages. Devo gets bonus points for being the first to text and wish me a Happy Birthday, (before my husband BTW. 6:45 am!) and then following up with a call.

The Boopins didn't care as long as they got lovins when I got home.

Hubs gave me a big check to deposit into savings and then promised that we'd do something artsy with fine dining next weekend.


Am I the new Molly Ringwald, lamenting about her birthday in the digital age?


I guess I just wanted a candle on something. And people smiling at me that I was special today.
But I suppose all those HBD wishes I put on other peoples FB walls  on their special day feel the same.

The older I get, the more I yearn for connection. Yet, as connected we are at a touch of the keypad, the less we are truly intimately bonded.



*I'd like to note that the new regime says we get to take off work for our birthday ... yet I still had to "work" on my birthday.