Breathe again.....

This weekend, on my drive up to the beach house, I saw 3 used Volkswagen bugs for sale. A red one, a Peptol Bismo pink one (that one I think I want!) and a black one. It made me think of all of those awful crimes committed out west that involved the criminal driving a Volkswagen. I have read that the seat(s) are removable and therefore an easy transport for a body. Now, my guess would say that most vehicles could accommodate without all of that bother, and be alot speedier in case of a car chase. But what do I know?

Can I admit to now and then loving to read true crime? No, not those trashy magazines of my youth where the crime inevitably was rape that turned into love for the captor. Eww.. Totally predictable and really not all that interesting. But somehow forbidden and mysterious--at least to a preteen on a babysitting job, with the child asleep and probably 4 more hours to kill.

I have grown to enjoy the work of Ann Rule, a popular author of the true crime venue. She has had experience in police work as well as psychology. Her stories are chilling in all of their realism and I guess it's true what they say in that the truth is stranger than fiction. Many of them have been made into movies. Ironically enough, she was personally acquainted with Ted Bundy when they worked together at a hot line, and then later wrote his story, complete with an interview.

Although I am not interested in gore (uh uh, Charles), I do like the way she is able to get into a criminal's mind and show how he developed from a seemingly innocent childhood and usually a very good good family life. Quirks and sometimes fetishes slowly fester and grow till a sociopathic monster develops and can somehow justify his--or her creepy and then murderous behaviors. I am always amazed at the careful planning and effort that is put into each crime, when somehow the genius madmen emerges. Ann Rule has written about LOTS of such cases, and always tries to humanely portray the perpetrators as once regular citizens gone awry. She also meticulously describes crimes scenes and their processing before the days of D.N.A. testing. Ann also handles the distraught families with care and compassion.

In these tense days, when some of us Detroiters as well as some of the nation, holds it's collective breath while the search for little Neveah continues, her mother has admitted to openly befriending child sex offenders. Please let this child be found safe and unharmed. Lets all pray that Ann Rule never has to portray the missing child in an all too real story or movie.

P.S. Go Wings! Bring it to the Joe! Beat up those birds as well as you did those awful Black hawks! Yeah, yeah, yeah! xoxo

I Will Remember You......

Happy Memorial Day, or as my Gramma used to say "Decoration Day!" Up north where summer comes a month later than here, it was the time you put all those awful plastic wreaths and flowers on the graves of your loved ones. God knows that the real ones would not yet survive with the chance of one last snowstorm!

So, today I took some quiet moments to remember my loved ones that have passed naturally and tragically. First comes to mind my beloved Grandparents. The memories that came from those two is such a huge part of who I am today. They taught me things and made me laugh more than you can believe. They have been gone awhile, but I still miss 'em. xo Its, been years, but I had two cousins that were killed young on motorcycles. Such shock and question when death comes to someone so young. It was so sad and such a waste, and of course I wonder at the sense of it all. It probably should have disillusioned me in the way of bikes, but no-- I still want one. Recently an acquaintance was diagnosed with brain cancer, and quickly and painfully succumbed last week. I feel horribly for her family and my nephews who lost a treasured "Nonny." For all of the children who are missing and then found abused or dumped for dead by usually a parent or even a stranger--may their little souls rest in peace. Tiny angels to entertain my Grandparents who loved children. And give their families have the strength to carry on-- or just breathe. For all the veterans and those still serving in our wars. And the innocent victims of war. These deaths are crimes in their own right. I have had family that have served, but have been lucky enough to have survived. Except that they now have memories of horrific sights burned into their brains forever. But at least they are still here to talk about (or not) it. I don't know if I could ever possess that strength.

So whoever or whatever you choose to memorialize today, have comfort in the fact that we all have lost. Circle of life, I presume. Luckily for me, my pea brain chooses to remember all the good stuff and none of the bad. My own coping technique, I guess.

Clean white light, smiles and kisses for all of my angels, in heaven and still here with me. xoxo

P.S. Go Wings! Rock it out at the Joe on Wednesday and let's get on with the finals!!! And a whoo hoo to the Tigers who are now up 4 (i think) games. Detroit Rules!!

No Diggity.....

I saw an interesting bumper sticker whilst out and about the other afternoon. It read, "Why should I press one to hear it in English"? I concur. A couple of years ago, an airline mix up necessitated me going thru a refund process. My call (when that damn Travelocity gnome failed me) was routed to India-- without delay. I spent MANY hours with long conversation trying to convince the person I could barely understand that I did not wish to vacation in Key West just a day after a major hurricane--among other problems. Naturally, my paperwork got misplaced not once, but twice, before I simply gave up. To my shock and amazement, 2 full years later, I got a full refund check in the mail. Yippee! Can't help to wonder if less of a language barrier would have been helpful. Or maybe that someone local could have handled the call. Also on the off chance that someone is actually monitoring my call, say to Blue Cross, when I DO have to press one for English, I always mutter something expressing the ludicrousness of such a situation. Last I checked, this still is the good 'ol U.S of A.

Living in the greater Detroit area does make for some amusement when sitting in traffic jams, between dodging potholes. I am speaking of the considerate drivers who provide the entertainment of sporting those crazy vanity plates that one could make a career out of reading. Now, to me, a personal plate is sorta like a tattoo. Very personal. Truly a commitment--as if we need that stress. And expensive and probably more visible. The original price of those plates or paper tabs is high enough for me without adding the "personal" touch. However, not everyone shares my view, apparently. I have narrowed down some of my favorites to share with you. THNXDAD, spotted on a very sexy Jaguar. The thankful driver? Not so much. When I saw: JUICEEE, on a battered Neon, I wasn't sure, but I didn't guess it referred to the apple she was munchin' on. The same goes for CANDEEE, SEXAAY!, LUSHIS, and HOT2TROT. Ummm, okay. Wonder what the dude with JACKAZZ was thinkin'? I was truly puzzled when I spied: DMB4EVR. I could only hope that the driver stood a small chance for SOME mental growth. Then a window sticker helped me figure out that he was a rabid Dave Matthews Band fan. Whatever. Hope he doesn't change his mind anytime soon. Oh, and my favorite bumper sticker-totally tacky--but worth a giggle says, "My other ride is your Mother." I WILL be checking with her on that one!

Aside from your everyday plates and stickers, I can't help but be gleeful when I figure out a particular encoded one. Often I speed Ruby up to get a look at this person who is so proud of his hobby, child in school, or sports team. Risking a speeding ticket is stupid but I just can't help myself. I am a JACKAZZ... xoxo

Celebrate Me Home......

Can you stand a little more minutia? After shoveling and spreading mulch all day, (thanks, Rose) I am exhausted. Whipped. My yard is a half acre, fully landscaped and fully a pain in the ass to keep up. All I can say, is unlike housework, yard work is infinitely more gratifying. This mulch thing won't have to be redone for a number of years, and I hope to be in a condo by then. (Penthouse, anyone?) I am so tired, sore and a little sunburned, that my post this week is going to be a total bore with a side of snore!

Spent a glorious Mother's Day weekend up north hangin' with my Mom. Had a smooth trip up with no hitches-- traffic or otherwise. The weather could have been a little more accommodating and hence poor Ruby did not get to go topless. Drag.

Saw most of my family and some friends. Gave my Dad and 2 nephews haircuts. Watched Curtis Granderson act the 'Spiderman' at Friday night's game. Then checked Sportscenter on Saturday morning to make sure he got the "Player of the Week" recognition he so deserved! I bow to you, dude! Betcha your Mommy is proud.

Ate at my sister's restaurant and hung out with the Rosa's regulars. Always a good giggle with yummy food and wine thrown in. Went to church and breakfast with Mom before heading home to get ready for the Wing's game. Saw my Son and the pets that I am Mom to. Lola thinks every day is Mother's Day when she honors me with her presence. An hour later, it's back on the road to the Joe. Collected my red rose and "cheerin' towel" at the door! Was seated by some crazy 'duck hunters' that were as much fun to watch as the ice action. Celebrated later at Pegasus with many other hungry fans, and Mom's.

Hauled my tired cookies home to get a good night's sleep before tackling the mulch stuff. The yard is looking great with approximately 8 more yards to spread tomorrow. (25 total!) Now that I have significantly bored y'all, I am going to have a glass of wine and hit the bed. This Mommy is hit.

Happy Belated Mother's Day to all. xoxo

It's Friday, I'm in Love.......

One of the best things about summer growing up, was the drive-in. The adventure would begin, on Friday, around the time my Dad got home from work, say around 7:00 p.m. My Mom would have us 3 kids fed, bathed, and in fresh pajamas.



We would have long since had our dinner, but Dad would have a leftover before He carried us one by one, out to the Travelall. For those of you that don't remember or weren't born yet, the Travelall was sort of a station wagon/early SUV type of thing. Mom would have readied the backseat that folded down, into total comfort with pillows and blankets. Perfect. Off we would go, anticipating the dusk that signalled the start of the movies.



We were told before leaving home to use the bathroom as the ones at the drive-in were filthy and God knows who was waiting in there to do God knows what to us. Also there were characters of dubious quality that worked there and would have snide remarks about our movie viewing attire. (It goes without saying that I couldn't wait to see the girls and guys who worked there, even though most were dentally as well as mentally challenged. It just seemed both a romantic and dangerous career choice, that I would consider to be in my top 5 back-up choices what with all the new movies for free and unlimited popcorn! Bonus!) (Plus you got to wear hiphuggers, tube tops and black eyeliner!! Double bonus!!)




Snacks were paramount, and we always packed because then as now, the snack bar was a total ripoff. There would be an ENORMOUS brown paper bag with fresh popcorn. If you haven't heard, our family was and still is, famous for our uncanny ability to eat GINORMOUS amounts of the stuff. And it's always made on the stove with real butter and lotsa salt. My Dad would have Pepsi and us kiddies would have kool-aid in the cooler and ready to go, or save us if we happened to inhale a wild popcorn hull.



Upon arriving, we would drive around looking for a "good" re: working, speaker to hang in Dad's window. Some had no volume, others were crackly sounding, and even others were not connected. We always had a giggle picturing some dufus driving off with the speaker still in the window until the cord snapped. After some trial and error, a perfect spot somewhere close to the middle with a good speaker was found. The movies were always a double feature with a family show first followed by an adult feature. After the previews, Mom passed out the kool-aid and popcorn and we settled in for our show.



Soon I would have to use the bathroom and was let out of the Travelall with a 5 minute warning to GO and GET back. I had to run to do my job AND observe the snack bar workers in that time frame. My some miracle, I avoided all real danger AND got to indulge my future job aspirations. Back to the Travelall, I would go, plans for my future secure. Mom would be dozing out and my little sister was long gone. My brother would last a little longer before joining in the snorefest. Great! More popcorn for me and Dad! I would then climb into the front seat and make Mom get in the back. Dad could hardly enjoy the movie for all the questions I would ask. Luckily for him, eventually I feel into a deep carb induced sleep and he could finally concentrate on the movie.



The next thing I knew we were leaving Hubbard Lake for the 5 mile trek home. Dad would then carry us, one by one back into the house thus ending the night the same way it started. Sleepy and happy, we were off to bed until next Friday night, when probably, if we were lucky, we would do it all over again.



As teenagers we had 2 drive-in options. As you can imagine, it was a totally different scene. Choosing the locale ahead of time, around half of our high school met up there for the festivites. A carload of girls usually met up with a carload of guys. We dressed to please (hiphuggers, tube tops and black eyeliner), (HUGE bonus!), and ate very little popcorn. Our drink was usually Boone's Farm, and we paid very little attention to the movie. I got to flirt with the projecter guy unsupervised. As you can imagine, it was totally a different scene.




I said different. Not better. xoxo

P.S Thanks to my blogfriend, Erik's Choice, for the drive-in idea inspiration. xxoo