Category Archives: Fun!

March 6, 2017 · 7:46 am

Save us, David Lee Roth! Only YOU can Make America Fun Again.

Lean in, Millenials and the Next Named Generation – I’d like to tell you about a magical period known as “The Mid to Late 80s.”

I’ve been thinking about this glorious time for weeks, but it was really hammered home to me yesterday, when my tiny Connecticut town hit a new low for March – 3 degrees with a negative-teen windchill. And what did my Google Play decide to thrust into its shuffle?

“Goin’ Crazy” by David Lee Roth. A song about quitting your job to run off to tropical locales. A song about joyous hedonism. A song about being warm.

This is not fair.

When I got over crying, I got inspired. So now I have to share the Good News of Van Halen and David Lee Roth. Gather ’round!

For the young or uninformed, or shall I say “yoUNgInformed”: David Lee Roth is a retired magician, capable of lightening any mood — that’s his skill. He was sometimes referred to as a “rock star.”

People like DLR and his magician’s assistants/other members of Van Halen are rare nowadays. You see, somewhere in the gothy, nevermind-whatever-I’m too cool for this-90s, we lost track of these people, and they nearly went extinct, we thought.

Turns out, they just went underground. DLR is still very much alive, and you can even see him sing his little songs and incantations on stages sometimes, and often with is former friends in Van Halen, when they’re not in some sort of recovery. (Kidding EVH – I’m proud of you for getting clean!)

So I want to help our yoUNgInformed, who say things like “I wasn’t born when that came out so how could I ever know it” even though they’re the first generation to have lifetime WiFi and Google privileges. That excuse is so tired, I can tell you don’t even believe it. You just weren’t raised right. Let me help.

You, too, can learn to point your browser back to the 80s – back to when MTV ruled the world with these little five-minute masterpieces known as “music videos.” The name itself almost conjures up that crackly, standard-definition plagued TV sound that came out of just two little speakers and no surround sound, much less a Bose soundbar or other high-falutin’ accouterments.

Some of the TVs were still black and white. Did you young’ns know color didn’t exist until the 50s, like AT ALL? Pepperidge Farm remembers…

Yes, there were these little mini-TV programs that used to occupy all our time while we waited for iPhones to be invented and for your brilliance to fill us with so much hope that we finally feel complete! (Just kidding, we’re Gen X. That’ll never happen.)

But among the most notable was David Lee Roth’s magical epoch – roughly 1983 to 1988. It was a time filled with scandal, outrage, old-ass presidents and rich people being paraded about like circus animals that we were supposed to want to be like.

It was a greedy time, and it led to a lot of assholes wandering the earth. But you can’t blame my beautiful Gen X for that one. That was the boomers. We Xers were just trying to find a quiet place to get away from those jerks. Hence our saturation of the world in flannel and emo in our first act as Ruling Generation. Which sort of set the whole fun 80s thing back forever. So yeah, it’s my duty as a proxy from the Fun Killing 90s to inform you of the fun time before it.

Sorry we killed your mojo, DLR. The 90s would like to formally apologize.

In that time, before we’d gone sour on the whole world and lost trust in everyone and everything, we believed rock n’ roll could save our mortal souls. And the Bible didn’t tell us that, but we didn’t care. For the first time, kids had access to SCANDALOUS stuff on TV. Women in bikinis, scrambled satellite feeds where you could almost make out nipples if you stayed on the channel long enough, and music videos.

David Lee Roth’s “California Girls” helped to establish some body shame for me, but it also made me happy. Goddamn. It was just FUN.

Fun for everyone. I watched that video no fewer than 357 times and I still marvel at its greatness. Somehow he made a bunch of beautiful women stand so still that at the end, I believed they weren’t real. Until that woman’s hand moved when DLR took the sunglasses out of it. Don’t act like you don’t remember. I’m remembering this, BTW, without having seen the video in 10 or more years.

But that was just the beginning for DLR. He went on to do the video for “Just a Gigolo,” which still makes me laugh. I quote it all the time and if people get it, I make them swear to be my best friend forever. (The sheepish looks of agreement are worth it.)

I remember this most: “YOU’VE GOT CHARASMA!”

Which leads me to the song that inspired these words: “Goin’ Crazy.” I don’t know if Google Play is trying to make me enjoy winter more or what – but it’s played a TON during The Cold Times. I heard it yesterday morning when my heater was struggling so hard to keep up, the house was still only 62 degrees. I laughed aloud. DLR, you did it again, you brilliant bastard. (Codpiece aside.) (No, not like that.)

“Well, here I’m rollin’ down another sunny highway,

Been in the sun too long.

I’m goin’ coconuts but least I’m goin’ my way,

I’ll prob’bly be here when that sun goes down.

I want to live it up, want to quit my job,

Tell the boss to go to hell.

I ain’t complainin’, you do the best with what you got.

I know you’re laughin’ ’cause it’s easy to tell

I’m goin’ crazy,

Goin’ crazy,

Oo, from the heat…”

Get a load of that shit. It’s easy-peasy perfection. No women-hating, no violence, no threats, no demons, no promises of wealth—just “Hey guys let’s party.”

That’s an attitude we could ALL embrace. And even you Baptists.

I don’t mean let’s all watch Miami Vice and do lines of coke off each other. I just mean – let’s lighten the hell up a bit. Oh, I’m sorry Baptists – let it henceforth be knowneth that youeth should lighteneth the Effith Uppith.

(I was raised a bit Baptist, Episcopalian, Catholic and Evangelical but I also listened to Slayer. Pardon my jokes. I don’t mean them. God said it was cool.)

But it dawned on me yesterday morning that I take myself way too seriously sometimes too. My stressful job, which I’m grateful to have every single day, shouldn’t be treated like medical science. I help make sports TV, not do rocket surgery.

But David Lee Roth, and by extension Van Halen, have been on to something for decades. What started with “Running With the Devil” by VH – a song that sounds ominous but includes a slide whistle – turned into “Unchained” and “Atomic Punk,” then the ubiquitous “Jump,” followed by DLR’s only mopey love song, “I’ll Wait” (which is funny in its own way – such good photography!) and then my favorite, “Panama.” Then the masterpiece, if you ask 80s kids – “Hot for Teacher.”

DLR went solo shortly after all that. I remember hating that but loving all the DLR videos. How could you be mad? I mean, until Sammy Hagar came into the picture. But that’s another Van Halen blog that’s been written to death. (He was better than Gary Cherone but I digress.)

From “Goin’ Crazy” EP and then “Eat ‘Em and Smile,” we got “Yankee Rose” (“WELL LEMME ROLL UP TO THE SIDEWALK AND TAKE A LOOK HERE”… WOAH!) and “That’s Life” and DLR’s nearly-flawless version of “Tobacco Road.”

When was the last time an album that wasn’t by They Might Be Giants that FUN?

It’s been a good long minute. And DLR, we could use some of your charm now. You influenced so many bands in the late 80s – Poison, Ratt, all the sappy glam acts – but no one had your… well, CHARASMA. It’s time David Lee Roth comes out of retirement and makes a great solo album, or appoints a successor.

We somehow killed the fun out of the late 80s. Of course it probably had something to do with all that hatred, racism, anti-gay rhetoric, pearl-clutching, hypocrisy, woman-hating, war, poverty, neglect – all that shit. Stuff we’re wading head first into now. We’ve got wiretaps and Russians and presidential chaos – oh my – just like in the 80s. We need a resurgence of “I JUST NEED TO HAVE SOME FUN AND LIVE VICARIOUSLY THROUGH YOU” music. We need DLR.

Come on, DLR. Didn’t you have some kids or something? Get a band back together. Save us, David Lee Roth. You’re our only hope.

Unless you think maybe Eddie Van Halen should do it instead… (See, if I start a band fight, maybe they’ll have a public meltdown and then a very public get-back-together moment that could bring us a new version of “Hot for Teacher” or something… “Hot for Seniors” or something.)

Just, someone please make some good music. Someone, make a musical salve that can chill us all out and make us shut up and listen for a few minutes. Please. I beg of you, in the good name of Van Halen and other bands of their ilk. Save us from ourselves.

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Filed under Fun!, General Nonsense, Music, Personal musings, Politics?, TV

Tagged as Bright Lights City Lights, David Lee Roth, MTV, The 80s, Van Halen

May 15, 2016 · 11:09 am

This one goes to 11: Songs that got me through an honest-to-God rough patch

Stop me if you’ve heard this, but I went through a breakup recently. It was the first one in many years, and it was an intense relationship, so I wasn’t prepared for the emotional folly that followed. Let’s just say that it didn’t end well, and, truth be told, I never actually HEARD from my ex – he just sort of disappeared, but left me with the blame. Yay! Nothing like wading into the waters and meeting a cowardly ghost-shark first thing.

No big deal, really – I should be thankful it’s over. And despite his sharkness, I’m not afraid of the water. But it took me a lot longer to get over than I expected. I think it’s mostly because A) I’m a journalist, and if you leave me with a thousand questions, I almost can’t recover; and B) I’m an ENFP personality type, and leaving one of us in the lurch with no closure or comeuppance is almost life-threatening.

On a recent hike I took… I’m fine now, I swear. Hiking was also huge in getting over a lot of shite.

Couple that breakup with several rounds of sickness, the death of my stepfather and lots of traveling, and you have kind of a delayed response to “just getting the hell over it.” But the breakup – that was the biggest bee in my bonnet. It hurt. Like hell. Still does. Just less sharp, more dull now. Much easier to tolerate.

And as usual, my friends and family came through for me. As usual, my team of sisters and one brother, my parental units, my BFFs, co-worker BFFs, my cats, my backyard birds and the voice of my mother got me through it. As usual, I chose the wrong person – but hopefully there’s an end to that someday. Lord knows I haven’t been in a big hurry to return to the dating world. Not that I haven’t had offers, but every time I think I want to accept, I just haven’t. Not because I want The Jerk back, but because I don’t want to pick The Jerk again, ya know? “We won’t get fooled again” or something.

Anyway— I am especially thankful for another group of friends who helped me through one of the more awful periods of my life – my musical BFFs. In these last few months, my tastes have been all over the place. I didn’t listen to any love songs at all for the first two months — just hardcore rap, smooth hip-hop and “why don’t you just go ahead and get eaten by a bear” songs. This is a departure for a hardcore optimist like me. I kind of hated it, but I also knew it was necessary.

Some true winners emerged from that dark time, and I want to address them here.

Beast, “Mr. Hurricane.”

I heard this song one morning right after the breakup. I was walking into work, sunglasses on to hide my sleepless eyes, trying to look happy and optimistic. Faking it. Completely and totally faking it – because inside I was so confused, hurt and angry, and wanted to run away from it all. I wanted answers, but my pride (and the voice of my mom from beyond the grave, not to mention all my family/friends) stopped me from calling him to get the answers, which probably wouldn’t have helped my anyway.

I was so overcome by the lyrics, I went back to my car and listened to the song on full volume. I cried. I screamed. Security was NOT called (thankfully). But, just like everyone going through a breakup or new love situation, you think the lyrics are written FOR YOU. It spoke to me. It was a big first step to healing.

“I stopped bein’ the victim

But you weren’t there to see

I never felt bitter

Till you crippled me

I felt like a refugee from the pain

I had to wear that shroud with no shame

Deceit and lies

Were your crying game

I never fell in love so deeply in vain

So I stay a while

Knife in my side

While I slowly died

Defeat from the inside

Now I scream ’til the end of the day

Never again, Mr. Hurricane”

2. Personality Crisis, New York Dolls

Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear. There was something magical that happened the day this song came on. It was like a life raft. It was music to my hears. (Yes, that was on purpose). Punk music in all its iterations is usually very “fuck you”-centric, and this one is no exception. And since I’m convinced that a personality crisis led to some of homeboy’s issues, it was perfect. I have since listened to this about 3 billion times. One day it’s all I listened to – over and over and over again. Perfection. Yes, I kinda lost my mind there for a bit. I don’t think most people would blame me.

“And you’re a prima ballerina on a spring afternoon

Change on into the wolfman, howlin’ at the moon, hooowww

All about that personality crisis you got it while it was hot

But now frustration and heartache is what you got…”

3. Bad Blood, Taylor Swift

Points if you knew Tay-Tay would be on this list… she was made for breakups. I get that now. Immediately after it happened, I had to go to Oklahoma for my stepdad’s funeral. (Of course it all happened at the same time!) So I downloaded a bunch of Taylor that I could listen to on the plane and try to make sense of what the hell had just happened to me. It helped, this song especially. I wanted to have one of those scenes like from a movie – I wanted to get up and sing it to the rest of the passengers, and have them sing the chorus and chant “HE’S AN ASSHOLE (clap, clap, clap-clap-clap)… I wanted an audience to feel what I’d been through — me and Taylor – and it was somehow very soothing. I love you, Ms. Swift. Forever. Thank you for writing what we all feel. (And of COURSE “Shake it Off” was listened to on repeat. The whole 1989 album, really – just this one, I feel like I finally GOT, ya know?)

“Did you have to do this? I was thinking that you could be trusted

Did you have to ruin what was shiny? Now it’s all rusted

Did you have to hit me, where I’m weak? Baby, I couldn’t breathe

And rub it in so deep, salt in the wound like you’re laughing right at me…”

4. No Chump Love Sucker, Red Hot Chili Peppers

A song of immense pride mixed with a healthy dose of hurt. Written from a male perspective, of course, but just perfect when you’re FURIOUS. I heard this one day and basically trashed my office jumping around, throwing things (like boxes of Kleenex, nothing damaging) and scaring my cats. Looking back, I wish I’d videotaped that. Good times.

“I’m through with your bluefish

I’m through with your gash

I’m through being screwed with

By you and your whack attack

5. Eazy-Duz-It, Eazy-E

This unfortunate time coincided with me watching “Straight Outta Compton,” which was also kind of a rebellion, as he didn’t see the need to watch the movie because “he lived it.” OK. I think you missed the point of biopics and are just attempting to sound like a tough guy, but whatevs.

So after watching the movie, I was like “THIS IS WHAT I NEED.” Angry music that has nothing to do with love. Angry political music. Real people music. It led to my mind being kind of steered back to more important things, and I immersed myself in old-school rap of all sorts afterward.

Who knew Slick Rick, NWA, Public Enemy and the like could be so soothing.

“Rolling through the hood, cold tearing shit up

Stick my head out the window and I say what’s up

To the (omitted) on the corner cold bumping the box

But you know that’s an alibi for slanging the rocks…”

Beyonce, “Sorry.”

This is a more recent addition, and damn I wish I’d heard it sooner. It would have been No. 1 on this list. It could have been so good for me. But I got it a few weeks ago, and it still works. I don’t care if this whole Bey-Jay thing is fake beef or not. It’s powerful, and it’s meaningful, and most people can relate. Most women, for sure. When I listened to the lyrics to this song, I felt BETTER. And I do every time I hear it. Thank you, Beyonce, for being strong. Even if it’s not real. Also, I want to be Serena when I grow up and I so wish I was on this bus with these beautiful women. They look like they’re having fun and I NEED FUN! 🙂

“Middle fingers up, put them hands high

Wave it in his face, tell him, BOY, BYE

Tell him, boy, bye, middle fingers up

I ain’t thinking ’bout you…”

Fuel My Fire, The Prodigy

This one has gotten me through a few breakups. This one was no different. Pure bitterness with a great beat. Also an awesome song to take with you on the elliptical machine, when you’re running on pure fury and pain. And yes, L7 wrote it—but this version is better, I think.

“I’ve got a word of thanks

that I’d like to say

for the way that I feel today.

Got stacks, got stacks

stacks of chips on my shoulder

in everything I do cuz I made, I made

I made the mistake … the mistake of trusting you

Yeah, people like you just fuel my fire

Yeah, people like you just do

You liar… You liaaaaar”

For the Time Being, Edie Brickell

After a dressing-down I received at the hands of a friend of the ex – to which I never responded, because it was all lies and bullshit anyway, and why engage? – I heard this randomly. I’ve liked the song since I saw the movie “The Way Way Back.” But it fit the moment well. And still makes me laugh when I hear it. The impassioned response I got was, looking back, pretty hilarious. (But again, I never heard from him, just her.) There’s so much more to this story, but I learned my lesson about blogging unhinged.

“It must be nice to be full of good advice to say

It must be sweet, but I’ll call you if I need it

I’m doing alright for the time,

Fine for the time being

I’ll need professional help if it does get any worse than this

I’ll be out on a ledge if it does get any worse than this

I’m doing alright for the time,

Fine for the time being

You think you know me well

You think you know me well

But you don’t know me at all.”

9. Bulletproof Soul, Sade

Ms. Adu has been a part of my life since I was a wee tot. The album “Love Deluxe” is still in my top 10. This song developed new meaning for me, 25 years or so after I’d first heard it. I was still really hurting and listening to a lot of mopey stuff. This came on one day and it was like that beautiful woman was sitting next to me, patting my hair, singing soft words of encouragement. I love you, Sade, you brilliant badass beauty. And I DID leave like a lion, TYVM!

“You were trigger happy baby

You never warned me let me free

It’s not that complicated

But you’re going to need a bullet proof soul

Think you got it but you got all the trouble you need

I came in like a lamb

But I intend to leave like a lion.”

10. Electric Relaxation, A Tribe Called Quest

Coinciding with this terrible time in my life were the deaths of some of my favorite musicians – David Bowie, Phife Dawg, Merle Haggard, and of course, Prince. But Tribe was there for me during all this. Well before the breakup, I’d been on a huge Tribe kick. For the last year or so, it’s been on a regular rotation. The smooth, relaxing beats were medicine to me during the hard times. Dawg’s death just led me to listen to them more. It took my mind off the bitterness and gave it room to explore. It gave my brain a reprieve. And the joy – the pure, simple, melodic joy that is this song – was the best thing for me. I thank Tribe so much for this. Tribe made me chill the fuck out. Tribe led to peace. RIP, Phife.

“Relax yourself girl, please set-tle down

Stretch out your legs, let me make you bawl

Drive you insane, drive you up the wall

Staring at your dome-piece, very strong

Stronger than pride, stronger than Teflon…”

28,000 Days, Alicia Keys

I heard this in a commercial or something while I was working the SEC Tournament in Nashville. I fell in love instantaneously. It was like a lifeline. Like Alicia was shouting “HEY STUPID, GET YOUR PRIORITIES IN ORDER!”

I had a one-day hotel stay at the airport in Orlando after the tournament, then I would meet my Best Good Friend Renae and her son Oliver for our trip to Disney World. This was after a nine-day stretch of SEC tournament basketball and travel… a few weeks after all this mess.

That night, sick as a dog but somehow OK, I felt like myself again for the first time. I was excited about seeing my people, happy with how things had gone at the tournament, and not thinking about Mr. Hurricane. I danced around my hotel room, playing this song on my little iPad speakers, acting it out, flailing, being an idiot. I realized that life is, indeed, too short to just throw it away. I’ll leave that to him. He can be self-destructive as long as he wants. Thank God he didn’t pull me down with him. I swear to God this song fell into my lap at the exact right moment. God works in mysterious ways, huh?

“Back from hell with my angel wings

Ain’t no fear in my voice

Cause I’m making a choice

The devil ain’t no friend of me

And that clock on the wall is telling me

There’s only 28 thousand days

Who would you love? Where would you go?

What would you celebrate?

I’m telling you that life’s too short to just throw it away

So have the time of your life, so have the time of your life…”

And that’s what I intend to do from now on, Ms. Keys. Thank you.

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Filed under Family, Friends, Fun!, General Nonsense, Haters, Love, Mom, Movies, Music, Relationships, Travel, TV, Uncategorized, Women

Tagged as A Tribe Called Quest, Beyonce, Boy Bye, Eazy E, New York Dolls, Phife Dawg, Sade, Taylor Swift

February 10, 2015 · 3:48 pm

Why I’m Mad at Kanye West: February 2015 edition

I don’t pay a lot of attention to celebrities. I have met my fair share, especially in the last four years, and what I realized is that most of them – MOST – want to be treated like regular ol’ people. I’m very good at treating people like regular ol’ people, BTW. I find it much easier, as my simple brain can’t discern between night and day, much less “who’s famous-est” and “who’s cool right now because of some dumb YouTube video.”

Beck lists Cain’s Ballroom in Tulsa as his favorite venue to play — I’ve seen him three times there. (It’s my favorite place too!) He clearly has the best taste.

But Kanye can kiss my, in the words of Della Reese, ENTIRE ASS.

Kanye, once again, shot his mouth off when it wasn’t necessary, angry that Beck won Album of the Year at the Grammys over Beyonce (who, honestly, doesn’t need him to speak for her, but that’s a whole other sidebar.) Hey Kanye – you know how sometimes your team doesn’t win in sports? Sometimes, your team endures a painful loss – because the other team was better at that moment. THAT’s what’s going on here – Beck created a masterpiece that Grammy voters agreed was the best of the year. Kanye, who just like his wife is seeking for everything to either be handed to him or placed IN HIM via surgery, can’t take the time to listen to Beck and realize that, maybe, just maybe, the voters were onto something.

The whole things smacks of some sense of entitlement that Kanye has. And it smacks a bit of some sort of weird belief that the voters were racist in some way.

Well, Kanye, let me help you a bit with this homework – BECK LOVES BLACK PEOPLE AND BLACK MUSIC. On his second album, “Stereopathic Soulmanure,” Beck included the line “Better not let my good gal catch you here,” which I didn’t recognize in 1994 when the album was new. Years later, when I was getting into roots rock and the Delta Blues (from which we all owe a huge debt of gratitude for CREATING MUSIC AS WE KNOW IT!) I was listening to “Ain’t No Tellin’” by Mississippi John Hurt and realized Beck was quoting that song, which is as old as the hills. And that’s just ONE song that illustrates that Beck cherishes and embodies all music styles and folds them into his style. That’s called Respect, Yeezy. Something you lack.

Quit looking for racism when it’s not there, K-West. It’s in plenty of other places – perhaps you should freedom-fight outside the music business, you know, where it might ACTUALLY AFFECT CHANGE. Do something that matters to real people and maybe you won’t be such a joke.

I realize I’m a weirdo music historian. And I do music homework for fun in my spare time. But a little bit of homework, Kanye, never hurt anyone. And it might make you sound just a touch less ignorant.

I want everyone who hasn’t heard of Beck to stop what they’re doing right this minute and listen to these songs, in no particular order:

“Loser.” Because if you’ve never heard of Beck, you should start here.
“New Pollution.” It’s fun, funky, beautiful and approachable. Just like Beck.
“Nobody’s Fault.” Sad, raw, completely heart-wrenching. Perfect for heartbreakers and those who feel they’ve wronged someone: “Treated you like a rusty blade/A throwaway from an open grave/Cut you loose from a chain gang/And let you go.” One of my dearest friends cried every time she heard this song – she said it’s how she felt when she killed a houseplant.
“Get Real Paid.” OK, you like synthetic beats and fast, funky, proud-shit songs about money and chicks and stuff? This is for you.
“Girl.” Ever been so in love you’re sad about it? This song came out when I was going through that exact thing. Beck’s conflicted masterpiece about someone you shouldn’t be with!

That’s a good start, though I’d say give every album, including “Morning Phase” a try – despite what that idiot Kanye said. It’s gorgeous. And completely different from Beyonce.

But guess what? Beyonce and her ilk have dominated the charts and awards shows for the last decade. So maybe a bit of a “Sea Change” (see what I did there?) is occurring in music?

I don’t have anything against Beyonce’s brand of music. It’s not my cup of tea, though I do like a few songs. To me, it just lacks reality. Singing about money, fame and fortune just doesn’t do it for me. Mostly because I don’t really want any of that in my life. To me, Kanye wants to perpetuate a really artificial type of music that doesn’t connect with real people anymore. He’s creating more shallow people who are materialistic because they want to be like him. How can you connect with real people when you live in fame and money and don’t ever get out of your own shadow? How can they not see that you’re just a selfish prick?

I am all about women being famous. And I love that Beyonce has done a lot of good for girls with her fearless attitude. But there’s room for others, Kanye, in your little world. Quit talking until you realize that. And Bey, please stop being seen with this A-hole.

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Filed under Fun!, General Nonsense, Music, Women

May 12, 2014 · 7:54 pm

Why I Love Oklahoma (and a few things I don’t like about it)

I just got back from a week in Oklahoma, my native land, where my people are buried. And though I’m glad to be home, overjoyed to have the job I do and happy where I’m at, I still was a complete wreck on the plane, crying my eyes out watching Tulsa County slip away out of the tiny airplane window. I wore my sunglasses on the plane – I usually make fun of people who do that. But maybe they’re trying to hide their tears too.

It was cloudy, so my view was a bit obstructed. It cleared closer to Texas, and we began our descent into DFW in time for me to see the Red River snaking across the view. “We need rain,” I thought, my one-generation-removed-from-the-farm mind still kicking in.

In a few hours, I would be in New England again. I finally stopped crying once I left DFW on the second leg, but the tears came back on my road back to Bristol from Bradley. I was listening to Oklahoma music – I thought I’d better get all those emotions out now, before I go back to work. I certainly don’t want to cry in front of an NFL Hall of Famer or anything.

But I was thinking a lot on the drive home. About why I’m not in Oklahoma anymore. It’s not permanent, as I know I’ll be back there to retire whenever that is. Or whenever the Thunder want to make me head of communications… whichever comes first. But anyway, I thought of a co-worker of mine at ESPN who flat-out asked me once, “Why do people live in Oklahoma?” This was after a tornado, not just a general condemnation of the Sooner State. As I drove home, I thought of some of the reasons I love it, but also a few why I don’t. So without any further ado…

WHY I LOVE OKLAHOMA…

It’s NOT:

The heat. I was a few moments into a 90-degree Monday afternoon when I realized I just can’t hack the heat anymore. Fortunately, 99 percent of Oklahoma is cooled to the hilt with the best AC money can buy. But I’m quickly becoming an East Coaster who can’t tolerate anything over 80.
The politics. Seriously, I’m sitting with my friends, many of whom have children, are teachers or just interested in education, and I’m realizing just how bad the schools and government are. Seriously, people, put politics aside – who cares who’s wrong and who’s right? You’re getting lapped by everyone else because you take tax breaks out on kids. This will have long-reaching effects. People won’t want to stay to raise their kids if the schools are the worst in the nation. And the job market isn’t as good as it should be. Oklahoma is an affordable state with natural resources out the ying-yang. If you wreck it now, it’s going to wreak havoc for years and years to come. What happened to the lottery saving education? Where is that money going? Quit trying to marry church and state again and let your kids get smart enough to make their own decisions.
The roads. Yes, we pay high taxes in Connecticut. But our roads – even after 100-plus inches of ice and snow this winter – are in great shape. I got carsick on Oklahoma roads this time. Fix your infrastructure, or it’s all going to come crumbling down someday.

Now on to the good stuff.

It IS:

The people. Oh my God, it was great to be around people who genuinely seem to care about each other, even if they don’t know each other. I was in Reasor’s in Tahlequah on Saturday and saw so many people saying hi, thank you, excuse me, etc. – Hey, New England: It’s called human kindness. Try it. You’ll like it. Today, back in Bristol, I went to the grocery store and acted like an Oklahoman again. I will NEVER lose that part of myself, I hope. And besides – all my friends are there. I will never forget that. We had a full house in Tahlequah at Arrowhead, to celebrate the life of one of our great friends. I love them all, and realized that I couldn’t lose them if I tried. (And why would I do that? They like me in spite of me!)
The weather (but not the heat). I had missed thunder and lightning so much – I got to hear and see it again. Also, thanks, weather gods, for the absolutely PERFECT Saturday afternoon on the Illinois River in Tahlequah! I also miss that winter lasts about 45 minutes, not six months like Connecticut.
The food. Holy shit, ya’ll. Oklahoma food is just so much better than anything in Connecticut. Taco Bueno is so, so much better than anything they attempt to sell as “Mexican food” up here. It’s funny to see them try up here… but not funny to eat. Blargh. My first stop was Bueno, my last was Rib Crib. I somehow lost weight on vacation, but I think it’s because I was walking a lot.
The accent. Because it makes everyone up here go, “Where ARE you from?” It’s not Southern, really, and it’s not Texas. It’s Oklahoman, and it’s a thing of beauty.
The music. Woody Guthrie started it. Let’s not let Crazy Wayne Coyne finish it…
The heritage. A little bit of everything we are — mutts, half-Indian or 1/128th Choctaw, whatever you are. We look different than people do on the East Coast. And it’s beautiful. Oklahoma girls and boys are… well, HOT!
The way it makes me feel. Oklahoma, for me, is a state of mind. When I first arrived last week, I walked off the plane and my Inner Oklahoman was fully engaged, like it had been on standby for three years, ready to spring back to life. It’s slower. It’s friendlier. It’s peaceful. And it’s home – always has been, always will be. The bones of my mother, grandparents, aunts, uncles and many friends take up residence in Oklahoma dirt. I ran my 1969 Cutlass into the weird wall in the parking lot of the Braum’s on 32^nd in Muskogee. I got on stage with Tripping Daisy at Cain’s Ballroom in Tulsa (and had many, many more great times there, both pre- and post-air conditioning.) I drank to excess for the first time in Park Hill, Oklahoma, in a trailer full of people who would go on to become some of my best friends. I have fallen in and out of love, made and unmade friends, lost family, gained even more family, and found that I had to leave to get where I wanted – all that happened in Oklahoma – 36 of my 39 years were in Green Country. It’s who I am.

I could go on and on like this. And I guess crying every time I leave is going to keep happening, so I had better save some of it for the next trip. I’m going to leave part of myself in Oklahoma every time I go, I guess. But really, I’m already all the way there, and taking part of me to Connecticut every time I leave the Red Dirt State. It’s where I know I’ll end up someday, even if I talk real big about how I’m going to live out my days in San Francisco.

Hopefully, I’ll be able to do anything I want with my life, and moving to New England will help make that possible, thanks to my career and the wonderful company I work for – but I know that, for me, all roads lead to Oklahoma. Despite all that stuff I said above about what I don’t like about Oklahoma, I know I’ll be back. And when I do get back, meet me under that Oklahoma Sky.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qKTUZ-ig57M&feature=kp

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Filed under Connecticut, ESPN, Family, Friends, Fun!, General Nonsense, Oklahoma, Tahlequah, Travel, Tulsa, Uncategorized, weather

Tagged as miranda lambert, Oklahoma, oklahoma sky, tahlequah

December 25, 2013 · 6:04 pm

The Electric Christmas Card: 2013 (Happy Holidays, ya’ll!)

First things first, let me wish you all a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. I hope your holiday season is fantastic – and you get everything you want, physically or spiritually! Thanks for reading, for being my friend, and for supporting me and laughing at my lame jokes. Mucho amor, ya’ll.

Here it is, Christmas Day, and I haven’t sent out a single card. I had some written, but just like everything else I can’t get done at a computer, they wallow in the bottom of a tote bag somewhere, unstamped.

I did this last year, so yeah, we’ll call it tradition that I’m going to do an electronic Christmas card to all y’all. And I’m sure all y’all were just holding your collective breafs waiting for this.

So wait no more! Exhale! It’s time for the Electronic Christmas Card, 2013 Version.

Part 1: Aunts Marching

While I already had two perfectly acceptable nephews (Jesse and J.T., my sister Lila’s boys) my other sisters took it upon themselves to have more babies and increase the nephew population. Apparently my sisters are incapable of birthing girls, because Natalie, my oldest sister, WANTED a girl and got a boy anyway. I think she’s pretty happy with Elliott regardless. But he is sleeping in a Barbie princess bed.*

***(Key: * = UNTRUE.)***

(But seriously, what gives? You can’t pick your baby’s sex nowadays? No flying cars AND only a 50 percent chance of getting what you want? Thanks, Obama!)

Elliott’s pretty great, even though I met him when he was a really-boring three weeks old. I Skyped with him (and Natalie – she just HAD to be there) recently and he appeared much more fun. Natalie didn’t want me to meet him when he was already fun for fear I’d steal him.* I would, too. Natalie says he’s a really good baby, so even I could probably keep him happy, or at the very least, fed.

Anna, my youngest sister, had a boy too, Henry. He’s OK, if you like ridiculously cute babies who love you right back.

I don’t know why, but for some reason, Henry really liked me right off the bat – except for the moment he did almost a complete backbend when I was holding him… But otherwise, I think he could tell then, at just under four months, that I’m that aunt who will give him everything he wants. I’ve already got a pony on back-order.

Meanwhile, Lila, the only sister still living in Oklahoma, is very kind and sends me pictures of Jesse and JT even though I never send her pictures of my cats or dog. J.T., her youngest, is having a hard time adjusting to Elliott being the baby. I bet he’ll end up loving his cousin… or maybe they’ll play on opposing professional basketball teams. Elliott will be with the Heat and J.T. with the Thunder… it’ll be epic! (Why yes I do work in sports, TYVM.) Her oldest son, Jesse, is in college (at the unheard of age of 7! Amazing!)* at Bacone in Muskogee. He’s kind of a big deal.

Part 2: Katydid!

My middle sister Katy, who lives in Seattle, brought home news on Thanksgiving. Someone wants to marry her! I know! I can’t believe it either! Kidding, she’s fabulous, and her beau/betrothed Robbie is pretty great too. They are getting married in August in Seattle in a swamp or something hippie-dippie like that. And she’s not having a wedding party, which makes me ecstatically happy. I look terrible in every single bridesmaid’s dress ever made. I’m so proud of her, and so happy for both of them. But now I’m officially the old-maid sister.

Part 3: My Brother the Roommate

My brother, Nick, has lived with me since early January. It’s made life in Connecticut better by a country mile (though I don’t think they say that or even have any country miles here) and I don’t feel like the only weirdo in New England anymore. He graduated with his master’s, didn’t know what to do with his life, and moved to Connecticut. I might have promised him streets paved with gold and water made of wine – I really wanted him to move here. And I’m still glad to have him. He met a great girl who he took to Oklahoma for Thanksgiving. She’s still dating him, so I guess she liked our great state. If she didn’t, Nick might have ended it.

We are the biggest Okie-loving people in Connecticut, for sure. We have a full-size Oklahoma flag in the basement. We continually educate people about the Sooner State (no we don’t live in teepees, no we’re not all related to each other, yes there are hills in Oklahoma, yes I’ve met Carrie Underwood/Zach Swon, yes [insert name here] really is from Oklahoma…) We also spend a great deal of time trying to replicate our home state’s delicious foods. I have become a damn fine biscuit and gravy chef, and I made chicken fried steak a few weeks ago. It wasn’t Hungry Traveler off Highway 40 near Henryetta good, but it cured what ailed me. It’s amazing to me still that you can’t find plum jelly here. And if you want something spicy at a restaurant, it better be Asian or you’d better be packing your own Sriracha.

We also have the NBA League Pass package, which takes me back to when we were kids, watching an NBA game every night. It’s good for my career… or something.

Part 4: My Phone Autocorrects “Obama” to “Ibaka” and Other Sports Tales

ESPN campus in the fall — it’s really purty.

Notice that all the love-life updates are about my family? It’s because I’m married to Mickey Mouse. So without further ado, let’s talk shop.

It’s my third Christmas in Connecticut, which is beyond bizarre because it honestly seems like I just got here. Work is all-encompassing, and I don’t mind at all. I love the job still, even though there are times I’m so far-removed from the “real world” that I forget to live in it. I no longer watch any news at all, it seems. I read headlines, AP wires and Bottom Line-style scrollers, but I don’t know what’s going on outside the sports world – at least not in-depth. My phone really does autocorrect our president’s name with the name of the 7-foot center-forward for the Thunder. I’m OK with this.

Regular holidays are work days to me. Having time off means I only check my email 10 times a day, as compared to 100. I’m not complaining, mind you. It’s a blessing to have this job, and this year was exciting. The highlights in news breaks and events:

NBA Draft: Nearly a full week in NEW YORK CITY and I get to go to the draft, serving as an editor? It was a lot – LOT – of work, but it was also an amazing experience. I got to see how live TV happens outside a studio setting. It ain’t easy, folks. The next time you see something weird happen on TV and think everyone’s just out getting stoned or whatever, keep in mind that making television is hard and what you just saw was a tiny crack in the porcelain. It could be so much worse!

Melissa in Greenwich Village

Live TV aside, I got to meet all the top picks in the draft too. Most were gentlemen – Victor Oladipo, the Indiana stud who’s now with the Magic – was a gent in every sense of the word. Our reporter, Andy Katz, was interviewing him when Victor realized I was in the room. He stopped the interview to introduce himself to me and another woman who was there, apologizing for not doing so as soon as he walked in. Right then and there I wished for him to become an All-Star one day. I’m a sucker for a gentleman, especially a really tall one in fantastic clothes.

The trip was great – my wonderful stepmother, Melissa McConnell-Hart, stayed with me most of the week. We went to Little Italy, walked all over Greenwich Village and toured Ground Zero. She traipsed all over NYC while I worked, revisiting her stomping grounds from her early days with American Airlines, when she was based there. It was hotter than hell that week, but we had a great time. I ordered room service like three times. And learned to hail cabs. What a country!

Aaron Hernandez: During the NBA Draft, the Patriots tight end was arrested on homicide charges. Needless to say, that whole thing kinda took over the summer.

Boston Marathon Bombings: It was a dark day, one I felt compelled to work on. It was a very Boston-rich year, with Hernandez and the marathon bombings, then the World Series. I can’t say I’m a fan of Boston sports teams, but I do admire their grit. They take tough situations and use them as fuel. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Patriots ended up winning it all this season too.

Biogenesis: So there was this little steroid sting this year that caused all sorts of chaos in the baseball world, especially with my favorite player, Ryan Braun. He was suspended 65 games for testosterone use. Alex Rodriguez was suspended too but hasn’t yet accepted that. Braun was suspended on the second day of the worst vacation I’ve ever taken (Leon was sprayed by a skunk on the first day, so the rest of it was spent cleaning and pouting) so I just think of it as the dark part of the summer. When A-Rod’s news broke (211 game suspension) I was NOT on vacation, and subsequently worked one of the longest, but more satisfying, days in my career. It’s something I can’t really explain—being a part of the news, watching it unfold, sitting in the control room while it’s happening… it’s just what I always wanted, and I had no idea. Small favors and all that… I’m thankful.

Interesting people I met this year: Besides the whole cast and crew at the NBA Draft, I met a lot of neat people this year.

Ken Jeong, from The Hangover and Community fame, was a guest host on SportsCenter this year. He was incredibly gracious, charming and did a really great job on SC.

Lovie Smith, a former University of Tulsa player and coach, was in Bristol shortly after being fired from the Bears. I nearly tackled him (like I did Mike Gundy when he was in Bristol) to talk Oklahoma. He obliged, very happy to talk about his former life in T-Town.

David Koechner, aka Champ Kind from Anchorman: We had to cancel Will Ferrell because of breaking news about Jameis Winston (the Florida State quarterback and Heisman winner). But we still had Champ in-house to make the rounds and shoot some promos for us. He was so nice – and he says he loves going to newsrooms because they all remember his lines from Anchorman!

Part 5: In Closing

A few more bullet points:

My group of friends suffered a huge loss this year, with my friend Clark dying unexpectedly right before my NBA Draft trip. Clark and I were planning to go to a Yankees game while I was in town. But he was taken from us so quickly. It nearly dropped me to my knees. I miss him—he was one of those souls who just made the air sweeter, one of those people who never treated anyone like a stranger. I’ve already blogged about him, so I won’t get into details on this Christmas day. It’s too sad. All of us are getting together in Florida in February to memorialize him. There have been a few Big Chill jokes already made… I’m looking forward to it, even if it’s a gathering for a sad event.

My parents finally came to Connecticut, and we had a great time. Dad, Melissa and I went to the Hill-Stead museum in Farmington, and it was a beautiful, crisp fall day. This autumn was exquisite, and I’m so glad they got to be here for that week. After they left, the temperatures dropped and it snowed.
My brother and I took a trip to Philly because my fabulous boss gave me her tickets to a Brewers-Phillies series. It was a fun drive, except for when we drove home and somehow ended up on the George Washington Bridge in New York City with my brother at the wheel. It was a complete panic situation for both of us, and I felt like Kevin Nealon in “Happy Gilmore,” giving Nick useless advice the whole time he navigated through NYC traffic… looking back, it was kind of hilarious.
When I met Elliott, I did so in his hometown of West Palm Beach, where Natalie moved a few years ago. It is the eppy-tome of gorgeous cities.
I went to opening day of the NFL season and tailgated to boot! My fantastic friend Fran, a proud Jets season ticket holder, took me to Bucs-Jets. It was glorious – I get why fans are the way they are about the NFL even though it’s not my favorite sport.
When I was in Dallas for Thanksgiving, I finally got to go to a real NHL game, and with my Canadian hockey-loving bro-in-law and Sharks season-ticket-holding cousin John. Now I’ve been to every type of pro game (except soccer and cricket… and those other non-‘Murican sports – kidding, kidding…)
I didn’t get to go to Oklahoma this year, which is a real travesty. But it only fueled my desire to get there next year!

So one more time, Merry Christmas, ya’ll! Let’s talk more next year, OK?

–Sarah

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Filed under Connecticut, ESPN, Family, Food, Friends, Fun!, General Nonsense, Kevin Durant, Love, New York, Oklahoma, Sports, Travel, Tulsa, TV, Uncategorized

Tagged as Christmas in Connecticut, Connecticut, Merry Christmas, Oklahoma, Victor Oladipo

May 6, 2013 · 6:19 pm

Hart Songs, Part 1 (Love)

I had a bit of an emo day yesterday – not the type where I felt sorry for myself, just a bit darker than I usually am. Not sure where this came from, but it kind of crept up on me and before I knew it, I was listening to Modest Mouse and not talking to anyone. I had a tummy ache too. Maybe the two are exclusive.

I woke up today all better, but with a strong desire to clean the house. The lazy person who lives inside me wanted me to lie on the couch. I balanced both urges, hence this blog post, inspired by a rare day of moodiness (I like to think I’m happy all the time. Perhaps I’m fooling myself – I don’t care.) Then I turned on my music and the first song out of the chute was one that had I heard it last night, I might’ve gone all Ophelia. (Just being dramatic… promise.)

So I gotz to thinkin’ – what songs always – ALWAYS – elicit some sort of reaction from me, be it crying (usually as I’m a big giant sap), revolutionary moments, anger… what have you. The list is pretty long, but here are some highlights and reasons.

NOTE — I started writing. And dude, I just wrote and wrote. So I’ll break it up into a series. In no particular order.

THE LOVE SONGS

Sure, it’s the most-addressed topic in the world, and everyone’s got their favorites. Here are a few of my most sentimental ones. I should also preface this list the fact that I’m just a hopeless, weirdo romantic whose idea of love is best summed between Doc Holliday and Kate the Prostitute in “Tombstone.” So perhaps I have weird taste I love songs.

“Watch Closely Now,” Kris Kristofferson

If you haven’t seen the Barbra Streisand-KK version of “A Star is Born,” You don’t know what you’re missing. It’s superb. And this song falls very near the top of the all-time favorite list too. It’s a growly, sexy rock song that is a more raw version of the love song.

“Watch closely now

You’ll observe a curious exchange of energy

Are you a figment of my imagination

Or I one of yours?

Watch closely now – are you watching me now?

Your eyes are like fingers

They’re touching my body and arousing my soul

Ridin’ the passion arisin’ inside me

How high can I go?

You’re comin’ with me girl

I’m gonna show you how

When it’s scary, don’t look down

Watch closely now – are you watching me now?

I see the hunger arise in your eyes and it’s a-urging me on

Higher and harder and faster and farther

Than I’ve ever gone

You’re comin’ closer lady

Don’t ya leave me now

We’re gonna make it

Don’t look down

Watch closely now – are you watching me now?

I’m the master magician, who’s setting you free

From the lies you’ve been told

When they’re breaking your back

Bring your last straw to me

I turn straw into gold

I’m gonna need you later

When you’re not around

But I can take it

Don’t look down

Watch closely now

Are you watching me now?…”

“La Vie En Rose,” Edith Piaf and/or Louis Armstrong

I get it. Paris is romantic. I’ve never been. I’m still waiting, because I want it to be like this. Did I mention I’m incurable?

“Hold me close and hold me fast

The magic spell you cast

This is la vie en rose

When you kiss me, heaven sighs

And though I close my eyes

I see la vie en rose

When you press me to your heart

I’m in a world apart

A world where roses bloom

And when you speak, angels sing from above

Everyday words seem to turn

Into love songs

Give your heart and soul to me

And life will always be

La vie en rose”

“I Love You, Always Forever,” Donna Lewis

I admit to liking some cheesy music, some not-so-cool, proves-I’m-not-a-hipster stuff, and this is probably the quintessential song for that assertion. But dammit if it’s not a beautiful love song that I hope to better understand someday, as true love has managed to evade me lo these many years.

“You’ve got the most unbelievable blue eyes I’ve ever seen

You’ve got me almost melting away

As we lay there under blue sky with pure white stars

Exotic sweetness a magical time”

Ah, it’s sticky sweet, but it affects me. Can’t do anything about that. Just have to let it envelope me… and gush like a sissy.

“Love Is Alive,” The Judds

The idea of love over a simple everyday breakfast table is just so charming and alluring. This is the Judds at their absolute finest.

Love ain’t a candle

It doesn’t burn for one night

And need the dark to shine

Love is alive

And love ain’t just a word

In every dictionary

With no where defined

Love is a man and he’s mine

Love is alive and at breakfast table

Every day of the week

Love is alive and it grows every day and night

Even in our sleep

Love is alive and it’s made a happy woman out of me

Oh, love is alive and here by me

“Time and Tide,” Basia

Once upon a time, I thought I’d found The One, stupidly, and this song was sort of my anthem then, and when that relationship fizzled, I kind of started hating the song. I haven’t been “In Love” since then (quotes intended, as who knows if I was really in love then) but I can listen to this song again and realize why I liked it to begin with. My mom, who was married five times and was an incurable romantic, loved this song. I don’t know who it reminded her of. One of the mysteries she died with.

“It’s hard for me to stop my heart

Love never knows when the time is right

I don’t want to hurt anybody but

Can’t help loving you

I never felt like this before

I know this is passion worth waiting for

Let life take its course

That’s the only thing for us to do

We’ve got time, oh baby

There’s no rush gonna be a better day for us

Hang on and I will wait for you

Our love will always stay as good as new”

… and the Old Faithfuls

“Indian Summer,” The Doors

“If I Needed You,” Townes Van Zandt

“Visions of Johanna,” Bob Dylan

Up next, the sad songs… because they say so much.

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Filed under Fun!, General Nonsense, Music, Relationships, Women

Tagged as Love songs, Series

December 22, 2012 · 3:29 pm

The Electric Christmas Card: It’s not lazy, I wrote like 2,800 words!

I rewatched Seinfeld this
year. It’s funnier if you live on the East Cosat.

Festivus is tomorrow, Hanukkah is behind us, Christmas is two days away and Kwanzaa
starts the day after Christmas, which coincides with Boxing Day.
Folks, we are in the thick of a holiday season that grows bigger
each year. And as usual, I’m as tardy as ever. Because I suck at
holiday correspondence, and frankly all correspondence, I have
turned to the Internet to let ya’ll know I’m not a cruel,
heartless, thankless wench this Christmas. Yes, I’m letting my blog
be my Christmas wingman. Consider it an effort to be green, but
know that really, I’m lazy and pressed for time, a noxious
combination that really cuts into my sitting around time (Trey,
that’s one of my favorite lines of yours.) So with those caveats
out of the way, I’ll turn this into a yearlong wrapup. But first,
happy holidays to all, and thanks for tolerating me this year. This
year, like the one before it, has been a complete blur. I started
out the new year working, and that trend continued at least five

Even the geese that live
at ESPN have a job — pooping on sidewalks.

days a week
for 52 weeks. It’s like those people at ESPN expect me to come in
FIVE DAYS A WEEK and work! Actually, I love my job. I have
continued to become more and more entrenched in Connecticut life,
and it’s starting to feel like home. People still don’t understand
my accent all the time, but I don’t understand theirs either, so we
just usually laugh at each other and call it a day. One co-worker
of mine, Brian Tully, likes to point out when I really slip into
Okie. It’s funny because when I lived in Oklahoma, I often got
accused of not sounding country enough. One time someone said I
sounded like I’m from Boston. Well shit ya’ll, I just don’t know
where I stand! But back to work, which has been what I’ve done most
of this year, and with glee. I love my job, love the people I work
with and am challenged each day to immerse myself in the mode of
TV. My print journalism ways are falling away, and I find myself
straying from AP style more often. I don’t like it, but it’s
happening.

Can you believe ESPN
promoted this person?

I was promoted in September, from
associate news editor to news editor I, which bumps me into the
management pool. It’s nice, and a nice pay bump. With the
promotion, I adopted a fake British accent and started wearing
full-length gowns and white gloves to work, along with minks and
diamonds (that’s for you Ward, who said I sold out to the corporate
monster and was now part of the 1 percent.) Still, it was a sellout
that I was willing to do. And the day after my promotion went into
effect, my job got more complicated. I feel I’ve earned it, and
hope to keep earning it as I go. I thought it would be fun this
year to write a weekly football column to send to our anchors,
analysts, producers, etc. It was called “Under the Radar Love.” And in typical Sarah
style, I bit off more than I could chew. It was designed to
showcase some of the games that might slip through the cracks in a
society obsessed with SEC football. It worked, and it was fun to
write, but I became like a crack fiend with it, toiling over
numbers and stats and patterns to try to come up with new entries.
I call that success! I’ll probably be doing it again next year. And
for my Okies out there, Oklahoma schools were
mentioned in nearly every installment. They had kind of an
under-the-radar year, so it worked out well. I’ve become the
sort-of Twitter Girl on my news desk, and I’m trying to come up
with new ways to implement guidelines in the finding of and
fleshing out of tweets. I won’t bore you with gory details, but
know this – I follow the maximum amount of people (2,000-ish) and
am on Twitter for at least 10 hours a day. So if you thought I was
rampant on Facebook, wooh boy, lemme tell ya.

I’ll miss the river
flowing next to my house…

I moved from my quaint little
riverside town of Collinsville, Ct., to bustling Bristol, Ct.,
because I was really tired of the drive. I work until 3 a.m. at
least twice a week, and often have to be back at work by 2 p.m. the
following day. So it made sense to me to cut out the drive time.
Plus, my friend/colleague/supervisor Ken got engaged and decided to
move elsewhere, opening up a fantastic house for me to live in. I
moved right after Thanksgiving, and my stuff is kind of getting
settled. My cat Penny has taken over the second floor of the house.
I haven’t seen her in a month, but she’s eating and all that, so I
know she’s alive. Or I have really hungry mice up there. Leon is
basking in having a fenced backyard again. He’s back to his old
pre-move-to-Connecticut self, frisky and butt-waggling. He’s 8-ish
now, and a little gray around the eyes. But who among us isn’t? Not
to say this in the same breath, but my old family is doing pretty
well too. I’m still single, unless you count my spouse ESPN. I hope
this singlehood doesn’t last forever, but if it does, I’ve reached
that point in my life where I’m not waiting anymore. I’m doing all
the things I was meant to do – travel, explore, work, write, enjoy
my many blessings. It would be nice to not have to do it alone, but
I’m extremely picky and I’ll know it when I see it. I haven’t seen
it yet. And Ryan Braun is engaged, so really, why
bother? {Side note, I became a huge baseball fan this year. Not
strictly because of the aforementioned/sexy Braun, but also because
I think I finally understand it. I found myself this year applying
baseball knowledge to real-world situations, like algebra. I
finally get it. And baseball people are just cool people. It’s
something more Okies should embrace. }

My dad and Melissa at
Keuka Lake.

My dad and Melissa are still in Colleyville, Texas, and Melissa
announced earlier this year that she is retiring from American
Airlines after a really long career with them. Just like every
other corporation, money is somehow tight and she’s taking a
buyout. She’ so great and so boisterous and full of life, I know
she’ll be doing some other job in no time, living life to the
fullest. She continues to be an inspiration and I’m so lucky to
have her in my life. My dad had a minor health scare – well, he
played it minor, I of course had a meltdown – but he’s in great
health again and still kicking ass. He continues to be my best
friend as long as we don’t get into political talk. My sister
Natalie is expecting her first child in March, and I’m planning to
go to West Palm Beach to see her and Baby Boy Garrett shortly
afterward. I’m so proud of her, and she’s just beautiful in
pregnancy. She’s beautiful all the time, but she just positively
glows right now. She hears every single one of my problems and is
so good to me, as she always has been. She is the glue of our
family, and having her son will be yet another tether that keeps us
together. My sister Lila is raising two perfect boys – I got to see
my nephew Jesse, a senior, play basketball while I was briefly in
Oklahoma for Thanksgiving. He’s really good, and has gotten offers,
both academic and athletic, to go just about anywhere in the United States. I’m trying to

Me and Stacy at ESPN in
the most-humid part of the summer.

talk him into coming
to UConn. He says it’s
too cold up here – but it’s so close to so much great stuff. JT is
the cutest child ever born, and he’s precocious and charming and
doll-like. She’s got her hands full with him. I’m dragging my
brother Nick to Bristol at some point – he graduated a few days ago
with a master’s in kinesiology and now awaits a dream job. He wants
to be a strength coach. Anyone who’s seen him knows he’ll be good
at it. But I’m forcing him to come see me next year – he helped me
move with two cats and a dog in the car and a bitching sister
driving, so I can understand why he’s hesitant to come back. I’m so
proud of him – he just skated through his master’s degree without
an iota of effort it seems. He’s just too smart for his own good.
My sister Katy lives in Seattle because she wanted to be as far
away from me as possible, I guess. She’s loving life and doing
great, working as a bartender in a hip establishment. She’s hip and
cool, she’s got a super-nice, hilarious boyfriend (Robbie) and
she’s entertaining entrepreneurial possibilities. She’s a dreamer,
and that’s what I love about her. She’ll do what she wants when she
wants, thank you very much, and she’ll be damn good at it too.
She’s so much like me – sad for her! But she’s more self-aware and
confident than I was at her age. She’s just beautiful and
wonderful. Anna and Joel live on the Southside in Chicago – they
moved away from a ritzy area to be with the regular folk on the
Southside, very similar to my move to Bristol. Anna is closer to
graduating from nursing school, and Joel just completed his
theology program. They’re two of the most-fun people I’ve ever been
around, and I’m not saying that just because they’re family. I
honestly don’t know anyone like them, and I cherish every moment I
get with them. We spent several days together at Thanksgiving and
it was basically a laugh riot the whole time.

My cousin Ryan lives here
— and manages to go to work every day. Wow.

I got to see
my California cousins (well, two of them) a lot this summer! As
well as their mom and dad. I finally got to go to our family
reunion on Keuka Lake this summer, a trip I’ve only made once
before. Keuka Lake is one of the Finger Lakes in upstate New York.
I spent a week with my dad and Melissa, Aunts Sandee and Maribeth,
and Uncles Jack, Rick and Steve. My cousins John and Ryan were
there, and again, laugh riothood ensued. Dear God I love those
boys. It was a week of fun, sun and frivolity. Our cottage was next
door to a bar. The water was about 10 degrees, so swimming wasn’t
the norm. In that time, I also got to meet/see a whole lot of
family I haven’t seen in YEARS or ever met, my Troll cousins, who
live in upstate New York and Alaska. It was so great getting to
spend time with this part of my family. They’re the artistic side
— so much I could learn from them. I look forward to many more
gatherings with them.

My first trip to NYC, this
was the first thing I saw when I left Grand Central. Okies. We’re
everywhere.

A few days after returning from Keuka, I went
to Los Angeles to work from the ESPN offices in downtown LA. While
there, I got to meet my cousin Richard’s daughter Maelle, who is
eight months old now. She’s gorgeous, and her mom, Kay, is doing
all the heavy lifting while Richard finishes up his Navy assignment
in Meridian, Miss. They live in Mar Vista, and my Auntie Maribeth
is often there to help. She, Kay and I had a luxurious dinner at
home with Maelle, and I was so glad to be able to have the
opportunity to travel for work AND see my family. My last day in
LA, I elected to take the redeye out of Cali so I could hang with
my cousin Ryan in Laguna Beach. He’s a pilot and showed me around
where he works, then we spent the day in beautiful Laguna Beach
where he lives across the street from the Pacific. Holy crap, I
could’ve gotten used to that. I LOVE the East Coast, but I can see
myself in California should the opportunity ever arise. Ryan and I
went to a great restaurant, offended and were offended by an
accusatory bartender, then wandered around Laguna Beach so I could
find souvenirs. I took two trips to Oklahoma-Texas this year, the
first time to go to a mini-college folks reunion and the second for
Thanksgiving. Both were great, and I got to eat Taco Bueno both
times. What the Connecticut folks refer to as Mexican food makes
Bueno look authentic. I got to hang with Renae, Trey, Oliver, Mark
and Margaret a couple of times, and shared a trip to Dallas with
Elena, which was an unexpected, wonderful event. Nothing like being
in a car with an old friend for more than four hours to make the
trip go by quickly.

I traveled by train to go
to Washington, D.C., to see Natalie and our nation’s capital. I had
never been, and went on no sleep, so the train ride there was kind
of a sleepy blur. I’d also never been on a train, so that was cool.
But we saw just about everything I’ve ever wanted to see, and of
course, I bawled like an infant at every national monument. My
sister the archaeologist knows everything, so she was an excellent
narrator/companion and didn’t shoot me in the face when I started
complaining about blisters. (Nat, I’ve since bought good walking
shoes, so please give me another chance.)

I went to see Jane’s
Addiction in Waterbury, Ct., in March with my Tahlequah/Manhattan
friend Clark Brown. I saw Bruce Springsteen in New Jersey with my
real-life Jersey Girl friend Fran Rotella, who entertained me
greatly with fantastic Italian food and diner grub. I’ve had pork
roll – it’s not just something Ween made up and sang songs about.
It’s like sausage and bologna had a baby. And it’s heaven. The
Italian place we went to in Jersey was across the street from where
they filmed several Sopranos scenes, so yeah, pretty authentic. I
went to New York City twice, and I’ve got many more in me. I fell
in love the second I stepped into Grand Central Station. It’s
intimidating, but awe-inspiring too. My plan is to stay at the
Carlyle Hotel in January so I can see how the other half lives. As
my dear friend Stacy Pratt reminds me, we earned our money, and the
starving poet in each of us won’t hate that we’re making money now
and possibly spending it lavishly. I hope she gets to go with me on
my trip – she lives upstate. She and her husband Joe came to
Connecticut over the summer too, and we got to spend a few days
together.

See my Rosie O’Donnell
face?

The funniest thing that happened this year was
meeting Snoop Dogg while I was under dentist’s anesthesia. I had
four shots of Novocain in my face and had to go to work for a few
hours – no makeup, messy hair, stretchy pants – and of course,
Snoop was there. I had my picture taken with him, but felt the need
to tell him about my harrowing dental visit. Snoop told me I was
beautiful and wrapped his 6-6 frame around my shoulders for a
picture. I look like Rosie O’Donnell in the shot, but he is
grinning like only Snoop can. So at least I can say, I made Snoop
Dogg and his posse laugh.

A typical NYC Saturday –
random free concert in Bryant Park.

I also met Mike
Gundy, Donovan McNabb and Jerome Bettis. I saw lots of other famous
people but was either too intimidated or too busy to go talk to
them. I truly have a dream job. It’s an insane, brain-draining
dream job, but it’s great nonetheless. Jerry Rice being in the
newsroom still makes me giggle maniacally every now and then, but I
am getting used to it. I attended a summit of bureau reporters and
producers that was like meeting the Mount Rushmore of sports
journalism – it was so fun. I am so glad I found my calling, and am
thrilled to be working in such a fun medium as sports and in such a
large spotlight. I hope it doesn’t come off as braggadocios – I
still just feel extremely lucky. The Thunder made it to the Finals,
which was the sports highlight of my year. The second best sports
story of my year was the Brewers being 14

games out of the playoff
picture and then getting to within 1.5 games before injuries and
the Nationals came to town. And the most important part of the year
was that we all made it through the Mayan Apocalypse without too
many scratches. Of course it’s only the 22nd. Seriously though,
thanks for reading my slop and for supporting me. Happy holidays,
and please keep in touch. You don’t have to write a novel like I
just did. And if you find yourself in the Northeast quadrant of the
United States, come on up to Bristol-town.

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Filed under Brain Disorders, Connecticut, ESPN, Family, Fun!, General Nonsense, Kevin Durant, Moving, New York, Oklahoma, Politics?, Sports, Tahlequah, Travel, TV

Tagged as AP Stylebook, Christmas, Okie, Oklahoma, Radar Love, Ryan Braun, United States

August 4, 2012 · 2:25 pm

Vacation, how my family is the best, and my ESPN anniversary

You know those things in life that you don’t plan for, the ones you have no expectations for, that end up being some of the best times in your life?

I’ve had a few of them in the past year. I had a week of them last week. I sit here two days out of vacation still laughing at jokes and incidents from the vacay, the now-inside jokes my cousins and I shared and just the bizarre nature of my family.

I sit here looking back at my first year in Connecticut, still wondering how I got here, but pleased as hell that I’m here.

This is the kind of blog that’s going to take subheads. I’ve missed breaking those bad boys out – editors are so nerdy – so here I go.

Yes, I took this picture of myself. Yes, I’m wearing a hat. My Wicked Stepmother (haha) made me. The Waterfront is in the background — I’m standing on our awesome Big Dock outside the cottage.

On Keuka Lake

I spent six days in upstate New York with my family, on Keuka Lake, in the gorgeous Finger Lakes region. My family has been going there forEVER and I’d only been once, when I was like 10 or 11. Living in Oklahoma and being a workaholic didn’t afford many opportunities for visiting upstate New York. Now, I look forward to going every year, or at least way more often.

Keuka, between Penn Yan Village and Hammondsport, N.Y., is where the water flows as well as the wine. Vineyards dot the landscape, which is replete with rolling hills and bluffs, vistas and meadows. Roadside fruit and veggies stands pop out of nowhere this time of year, hawking the sweetest corn you’ll ever taste. Mennonite wagons are plentiful, and signs warn you of upcoming buggies containing bonneted lasses and their bearded brethren.

The topography isn’t too different from Connecticut, and it certainly wasn’t any cooler outside, but being in the waters my grandfather used to fish was – well, it was inspirational and uplifting.

Not that I spent a lot of time pondering that while I was there. I hashed those thoughts over on the drive up and back. Most of the time in the cottage was spent laughing, boating, sunning, drinking and talking. I don’t drink that much anymore, but on this trip I would’ve made Charles Bukowski blush and Jim Morrison cheer. Our cottage was next door to a bar and a short distance from another bar. Not to mention my aunts, uncles and parents kept buying more beer. It was kind of perfect.

It started like this – my dad and my cousin John flew into Hartford, then I gave them a tour of ESPN. They got to meet Herm Edwards, among others, and John is a huge sports fan, so it was A DELIGHT (James Lipton voice) to see him and my dad’s eyes as we walked through my place of employment.

We left the next day for Keuka. We arrived later than planned, which is the way I like to road trip. My Uncle Jack (The Patriarch) rented a boat, and thus began a weekend of controlled debauchery, moonlight boat rides, ridiculous giggling, a little foosball and relaxation.

I spent a lot of time with John and his brother Ryan, who got there a few days later, but also got to spend scads of time with my dad, who is having surgery next week and with whom I was excited to spend time. (Note: My fam and I also had an extensive conversation about ending sentences with prepositions, so I’m trying to avoid that. Yes, we’re definitely related.) But that’s the way it typically works out – I always hang with my sisters and cousins most. I have a great bond with all of ‘em. I might’ve forced both John and Ryan to promise we’d do this when our parents are old. I might’ve been a bit drunk. But I meant it.

The bar next to the cottage, The Waterfront, was where Sunday night started and ended. They have this thing called Clammin’ and Jammin’, and a band played the early part of the night – one dude got so into it, he undressed, much to the chagrin of every woman in the place. Probably the men, too.

After the band went home, John and I sat outside the tiki part of the bar until we were invited by the locals to sit up front with them. John proceeded to tell everyone I work at ESPN, and then the night took a ridiculous (and somewhat embarrassing for me) turn. I answered all the questions, they bought shots, and then it all got kinda hazy. I took pictures of a fish John caught – I don’t remember taking the pictures, and it’s more of John’s drunken face and less of the alleged fish. He swears it flopped back in the water.

Somewhere in the middle of all that – before extreme drunkenness, of course — we went on a midnight boat ride with my uncles. Gorgeous.

We also visited the Switzerland Inn, or the Switz as it’s called, a place of legend among my family and where Ryan nearly got into a fight with the biggest, dumbest dude I’ve ever seen. Ryan was just being a smartass, as usual, but apparently you don’t poke the local bear. I do not doubt Ryan’s toughness, but he’s far too pretty to get his face bashed in. I thought I was going to have to do some fast-talking.

I also met or was reintroduced to the Troll side of my family (yes, that’s a family name – you shan’t make fun). They live all over Alaska, in New York, in Texas, in Seattle – all over the place. I’d met a few of them, but certainly not all. Of course, we had a great time. They are a fabulous bunch of folks. They stayed across the lake, and we boated over a few nights for excellent dinners, beer and wine tastings and conversation. The first night was a tribute to one of the Troll sisters who died in December. It was touching and sweet, and even though I’d never met Mimi, I felt her presence and, me being me, I cried.

What surprised me about the whole trip was that I hadn’t really thought about it before I went. Work had been crazy, I’d had a lot going on there, and I didn’t let it build up in my head. I think that’s what made it so great – it was an unexpected six-day pleasure trip. And honestly, my family is just so fun and so goddamned goofy. We’re excellent conversationalists too. It was one of my better vacations.

My year anniversary at ESPN

Just a random picture of Ryan Braun. Le Sigh.

The day before I left Keuka, Aug. 1, was my one-year anniversary at the Worldwide Leader. I’m still in love with my job. Most days I leave with a smile on my face. I hope they like me too – I want to stay there as long as they’ll have me. I feel like I’ve found what I was looking for on the workfront (still waiting for Ryan Braun or one of his brethren to realize they need a short, pleasantly plump Shiksa woman to make their lives complete, but that’s another blog).

I think ESPN might be my lifeline. I had to do it. People say I’m brave for packing it up and moving away, but I think it was a foregone conclusion. I had to do it, and I’m not looking back, especially when it’s 111 in Oklahoma today!

Over the past year, I’ve been afforded so many opportunities to be amazed, pleased and to excel. It’s been a busy, crazy, intoxicating year (not in the aforementioned beer-y way, though). I like to say that on Oct. 9, 2011, Tim Tebow was named starting QB of the Denver Broncos, and Joe Paterno was fired from Penn State on Nov. 9, 2011, and it’s been nine kinds of crazy ever since. And that brings me to…

The bureau meeting
Without getting into a lot of organizational chart-job title-ESPN insider info stuff, suffice it to say there are a lot of mega-talented folks at ESPN, many of whom roam the countryside with microphones in hand, stopping at sporting events to report what’s going on. If you’re a sports fan, you’ve seen these people on TV. They are bureau reporters, and once a year, they and their requisite bureau producers converge in Bristol for a few days of workshops, etc. I got to take part in these workshops this year, as I work hand-in-hand with these guys every day. I had talked to them all on the phone, but only met a couple face-to-face. It was an exciting day for me – to be surrounded by so many talented, hard-working people who have the same ambitions in life as me, the same work ethic and the same drive. It was another one of those “is this real life?” moments.

We all met for dinner one night, and I sat at a table filled with pedigree and talent. At the table was Vince Doria, senior vice president and director of news, who is a down-to-earth, unassuming and brilliant man. Also at my table were reporters Jeremy Schaap, T.J. Quinn and Mark Schwarz. If you’re not a sports fan and don’t know those names, trust me, they’re good. And hilarious. I laughed all night and felt included in the club. I am honored to be a part of ESPN, thrilled to be a part of all that talent, and overjoyed that I’ve been given so many blessings in life. I don’t know if I deserve them all, but I’ll always be grateful.

Losing weight
I’ve turned a corner in my thinking, and even though I have a condition that doesn’t make weight loss easy, I’m going to work hard. I just want to be healthy. I got the happy part down, but I want to be healthy enough to enjoy this happiness for a long time. I lost three pounds on vacation – I’m proud of that. I think I’ve finally realized that it’s not a diet I’m on, but the rest of my life being healthy. I spent the first 36 years (give or take a year or two) eating whatever I wanted and not exercising religiously. I’m so proud of my cousin John, who never really had a huge weight problem but inherited some of the Hart genes. He’s worked his ass off and he looks fantastic. He and my fabulous father continue to be inspirations.

So to recap, things are going pretty good for me right now. Except for the whole no-Jewish man thing. I’m still working on that one. Wish me luck, even though I feel guilty asking for anything else! 🙂

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Filed under Brain Disorders, Connecticut, ESPN, Family, Fun!, General Nonsense, Health, Love, New York, Sports, Travel

January 29, 2012 · 5:21 pm

The Great Northeast’s Super Bowl, or How I Fell Back in Love with the NBA

It’s not like I fell out of love with the National Basketball Association, really, I just would’ve been really ticked had they not played this year. For all the good that was done last year with the Mavericks winning, Kevin Durant and Co. bringing fun back to the game and the Heat and Lakers losing (HA! Still funny) it would’ve all been undone had the fools in suits tossed aside the year. I understand it’s a business, but for selfish reasons, I’m really glad they came to an –albeit tenuous — compromise.

Oh, Kevin Durant... you're the reason God make the Oklahoma City Thunder. Besides that whole Longhorn thing. We forgive you.

And if it wasn’t for the NBA and its glorious offspring, NCAA men’s basketball, I’m not sure I could tolerate the end of the football season. You see, I live in Connecticut, a state divided among Red Sox and Yankees fans, Jets and Giants and Patriots fans and Rangers and Bruins fans. A state that probably likes the Celtics a lot more than the Knicks, but I understand that.

What I don’t understand is how the 49ers and Ravens let this happen. For the love of Pete — it’s a rematch game. Didn’t we get enough of those during the BCS title game? I certainly did. And though I’m not a huge fan of any NFL team, I would’ve liked to have seen the 49ers back in this — and as a somewhat Cowboys fan, it’s not easy to say that. My Canadian brother-in-law, whom I adore, is a big-time 49ers fan, even if their stadium looks like a glorified summer league baseball diamond. He loves the 49ers for who they had — namely Jerry Rice. And he’s Canadian, so he really doesn’t understand anyway. He doesn’t like being in the dark, either (points if you get that reference.)

Side note: The first time I saw Jerry Rice lurking about the ESPN newsroom I swear I felt a little faint. I haven’t spoken to him yet, but he seems like a nice guy, one who should be my friend. I’m afraid if I start talking to him I’ll go all Chris Farley and start asking, “You remember that time you were in the Super Bowl? That was awesome.”

And I assume the rest of the world isn’t too thrilled about seeing Tom Brady trot his funky bunch out there again to face Eli “Elite” Manning and his stable of giant-handed receivers.

It’s safe to say that the good folks at ESPN who are from around these parts are thrilled with the participants of the Super Bowl, except for the large contingent of Jets fans, who’ve thrown their support to the Giants. I’ve moved on, to bigger and better — and rounder — balls. (Teehee! You know what I mean.) I have found myself watching the NBA ad nauseum lately, even insignificant games. But at the Worldwide Leader, with access to every game every night, I watch whatever I want. Yesterday I watched the team I hate the most, the Los Angeles Lakers, get defeated by the Milwaukee (Algonquin for “The Good Land,” thank you Alice Cooper) Bucks. It was glorious. And needless to say, if Kevin Durant and the Thunder are playing, they’re on my TV. Same with the Clippers, unless their times conflict.

The NBA was my first pro-sports love, the sport that harvested my very soul during the late 80s and 90s. So it seems natural that once again, I’m able to name starters for most teams, as well as sixth- and seventh-man alternatives for a lot of them.

But going back to the Super Bowl: As a semi-Cowboys fan, I shouldn’t say this. But I will. I am cheering for the Giants. Have been in every game except the NFC Championship, when my love for my bro-in-law Joel and my yet-to-know-it-yet BFF Jerry Rice flourished. I am not a good Cowboys fan. I realize this. I loved Clinton Portis, have cheered for the Steelers, and didn’t hate Donovan McNabb as much as I should have. I did, however, laugh when The Real Roy Williams broke Terrell Owens’ leg. But let’s not go off-topic.

I will watch the Super Bowl. I will probably enjoy the Super Bowl. But I think the Patriots are going to win, even if I really, really, really don’t want them to. My vehemence against a team doesn’t usually help it, case in point Every Lakers Championship Ever. The day the Spurs beat them for the 2003 Western Conference semifinals, I went outside to make sure the sky wasn’t falling. I’m not making this up.

But know this: not everyone in the ESPN newsroom is basking in the glory of an all-East Coast Super Bowl. There are a lot of Cowboys fans in the newsroom, though few of them come by geographically like me. There are also a lot of Eagles and Steelers fans. Even a few Bengals and Browns fans, and a fair share of Packer Backers. It’s a motley crew of fandom.

But if you don’t want to watch the Super Bowl, that’s cool, it’s on a competing network so I’m not going to try to force it on you. I will, however, politely suggest that you tune into the NBA this season. It’s fast-paced and fun, and strike-shortened, which gives it a gladiator quality: Only the strong will survive. So many more injuries than a typical year.

And there’s talk that Gilbert Arenas may be a Laker soon. Talk about taking a gun to a knife fight! Arenas AND Artest aka Metta World Peace. Wow.

Another blog for another time…

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Filed under Connecticut, ESPN, Fun!, Kevin Durant, Oklahoma, Sports, Tulsa, Uncategorized

Tagged as 49ers fan, baseball diamond, canadian brother, first time i saw jerry, National Basketball Association, ncaa men s basketball

October 12, 2011 · 4:04 pm

GC’s incredibly easy “That’s Italian!” tomato gravy stuff, or why I love Connecticut grocery stores

Whatever Italian the Garish Chicken has in her mottled bloodline has been ever so present since moving to New England.

Maybe it’s the people. The people here are different shades than those of Oklahoma. Not that I’m smart enough, I’ve figured out, to determine who’s what. I’m from Oklahoma. I assume everyone’s Indian. Here, we got a lot more Jewish and Italian people. I don’t know the difference. I like to think it’s because I’m a lover of all people, but it probably just means I’m an under-educated hick.

Despite my ignorance, I know there are more Italians here because the grocery stores are jam-packed with delicious Italia. The kind of stuff the foodies talk about. Real pastas, not just American Beauty or Martha Gooch (that WHORE… kidding, I don’t know anything about her). The kind that you cook al dente and go “Oh, that’s what that’s all about.” And then you know how to cook it that way, and never want mushy crap pasta again.

That's the stuff: If you can't find these, buy them on Amazon. DO EEEEET.

My first trip to the grocery store in Avon, Ct., not far from une casa, I found San Marzano tomatoes, which Giada goes on and on about on her TV show. (I don’t tend to trust skinny chefs, but she’s the exception. I’ve cooked many of her recipes and been pleased.)

Amore Garlic Paste: I know it sounds like I'm being lazy, but this stuff is incredible. Trust me.

I’d never seen San Marzanos in Oklahoma. Here, they were $4 for a large can, but apparently that’s fairly cheap.

So I bought a large can of San Marzano tomatoes, thinking I would further adapt one of Giada’s recipes for Little Thimbles Sciue Sciue (hurry hurry) that I adore, but wish it was saucier and a cooked sauce rather than her precious raw sauce. I don’t like raw tomatoes – I know, I’m weird. I could mainline marinara, but raw tomatoes make me gag.

I also found garlic paste at the store. I’d never seen or used it before, but I thought, it’s garlic in a tube, I can’t think how that would be bad. I went to the pasta section and found ditalini from a brand called Sclafini, a Connecticut brand. They had all the pasta shapes I’d dreamed about but were hard to come by in Tulsa. Little hats, tubitini, pasta rings – but the ditalini is what’s called for in this dish, though the little hats are quite good too.

I next went to produce and found a large container of basil for $3. Enough to curb my basil tooth. Some folks crave sugar, I crave herbs. I use a lot more basil in this dish than you probably have to.

Anyway – I went home and concocted something I thought was pretty amazing. It’s probably breaking some sort of Italian code or is the same thing as Ragu or something otherwise basic.

But this little recipe, since I’ve moved to Connecticut, has been made once, sometimes twice, a week.

The key is to use less pasta than tomatoes. You want the tomato gravy. And that garlic paste? I will die happier having found it. It’s salty and luscious. And I could use a lot of it at a time, but it’s kind of expensive so I’m moderate with it.

This one is so different than my basic sauce, which requires onions, lots of fresh garlic, wine and lots of time. But I think I like this one better, at least for now, and it’s ready in like 15 minutes, counting pasta time.

GC’s Ditalini with Fresh Mozzarella

1 28 ounce can San Marzano tomatoes whole tomatoes (find them. Trust me.)

Half-bag (1 cup or so) of ditalini pasta, or some other small pasta (get the good stuff)

Garlic paste, Amore brand is delicious

Basil

Salt and pepper

Herbes de Provence

Dried basil or whatever you like dried-herb wise

1 ball of fresh mozzarella

Fancy or unfancy Parm (your choice. I won’t judge.)

Coat the bottom of a medium skillet with olive oil. Like enough so that when you drop in the tomatoes, they will separate from the acid and oil meeting. Like enough to flavor a sauce.

Meanwhile, in a laboratory downtown… kidding, on another burner, get some pasta water a-boilin’. Add salt. I always forget, but I’ll say it this time. ADD THE DAMNED SALT. And some olive oil if you’re so inclined.

Back to the skillet. Heat on low-medium. Add the can of whole tomatoes. Let it heat up a bit, then take a wooden spoon and mash the tomatoes bits. They’ll cook down – I like mine smooth, so I stir them into oblivion. Why not buy tomato sauce you say? The whole tomatoes are so good and when they break down slowly, it tastes so fresh.

Add however much garlic you like. You can, of course, use fresh garlic. I just think this stuff is so flavorful that I can’t match that with fresh garlic. Maybe I’m doing it wrong – but I work 12 hour days and don’t have TIME TO MAKE GARLIC PASTE, OK FOODIES?

I’m sorry. I lost my mind for a minute.

Deep breaths. Squirt in the delicious no-excuses garlic paste. Add your herb mix – I love herbes de Provence, mostly because I bought a shit-ton of it and keep it in my freezer, so I just try to use it in everything. But it goes well in this sauce. Just use a little, like teaspoon or so. Add some dried basil, or if you’ve gone off the deep end like me, buy the Amore Italian herbs in a tube.

But don’t use too much – you don’t want herbs to overpower the general deliciousness of the tomatoes and garlic. Add S&P to your taste, but don’t overdo salt.

Let that simmer slowly. Taste for S&P.

Throw your pasta in boiling water. If you bought good pasta, it will take a bit longer to cook, but you should never overcook it. Every time you overcook pasta, a darling Sicilian grandmother dies. Do the al dente thing and never look back. Again, good pasta doesn’t overcook as fast, so keep that in mind.

When the pasta’s done, turn off the heat on the sauce and let the pasta sit for a minute in the hot water – just a minute though. Tear your fresh basil into the sauce. With a slotted spoon, add the pasta directly to the sauce. If you get a bit of pasta water in it, no one would judge you. You can even thin out the sauce if you’re so inclined with a tablespoon of that water. I always keep it aside for such reasons.

Open the fresh mozz and tear it asunder and top the pasta-sauce mix. Stir it all together. The mozz will melt quickly, so serve it quickly. Top with whatever parm you have.

Another weird Connecticut thing – they have Parmeseano Reggiano pre-shredded in bags for less than $10. I’m happy here.

Seriously, this is a fast, delicious meal – I don’t even need bread with it. And I’m sure you could serve some nice sausage or chicken or something on the side, but I’m nearly a vegetarian these days, so do what you feel.

Enjoy!

Love, the Garish San Marzano-chugging Chicken

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Filed under Connecticut, Food, Fun!

Category Archives: Fun!

Save us, David Lee Roth! Only YOU can Make America Fun Again.

This one goes to 11: Songs that got me through an honest-to-God rough patch

Why I’m Mad at Kanye West: February 2015 edition

Why I Love Oklahoma (and a few things I don’t like about it)

The Electric Christmas Card: 2013 (Happy Holidays, ya’ll!)

Part 1: Aunts Marching

***(Key: * = UNTRUE.)***

Part 2: Katydid!

Part 3: My Brother the Roommate

Part 4: My Phone Autocorrects “Obama” to “Ibaka” and Other Sports Tales

Part 5: In Closing

Hart Songs, Part 1 (Love)

The Electric Christmas Card: It’s not lazy, I wrote like 2,800 words!

Vacation, how my family is the best, and my ESPN anniversary

The Great Northeast’s Super Bowl, or How I Fell Back in Love with the NBA

GC’s incredibly easy “That’s Italian!” tomato gravy stuff, or why I love Connecticut grocery stores

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Garish archives: The Excrement of a Garish Chicken

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