The Point

I've mentioned before, Graham and I don't own a TV, but we do watch DVDs, and lately we are in a bit of a slump. It's not that the movies we have been watching aren't good, they are just too UTTERLY IMPORTANT. I feel like we've been on a strict diet of prime rib--delicious, rich, filled with protien, but when that's all you've had, you feel like you weigh TWENTY THOUSAND POUNDS. The weight of our usual menu of independents, classics, dramas, foreign, documentaries is getting a little TOO HEAVY. We both agreed, we need some comedy, people! We need a little ZAPPITY-DO humor. While I was gone, to keep Graham company, I rented him Something About Mary (which he had never seen)and a Marx Brother's Movie. When I told him they were coming from Netflix, he took my hands in his, and thanked me with all the love and relief in the world.

When I got back, you'd think that Graham discovered four new best friends, the way he has been touched by the Marx Brothers. We'll be walking or doing something and suddenly Graham will get this whistful look on his face and say to me, "I just LOVE Harpo Marx." I'll say, "I KNOW you love, Harpo. You told me that about three million times." So I've ordered the rest of the Marx Brothers menu, but in the meantime we had Cinema Paradiso and the Last Waltz to watch. Fine movies, but it was there to remind us that we are just SICK OF POWERFUL HEAVY FILMS. Get us some HUMOR ALREADY!

So last night I went running home, happy as a little clam, because in my sack I held a series of DVDs that I was convinced were going to SHAKE THINGS UP in the Pierre/Parsons Household. My friend Mindy had left me a gift parcel containing a number of seasons of Sex and the City. I almost wept upon viewing their candy like packaging! At last, MEANINGLESS and DELICIOUS HUMOR!

Let's just say, when I got home with the exciting parcel, Graham didn't exactly take my hands in gratitude. Somehow hours upon hours of pretty, saucy, sexy, shoe-shopping, guy-hopping, cosmopolitan guzzling women didn't appeal to him. I know, go figure, right? I had been afraid of this, but Mindy had said that she had converted her own boyfriend to enjoying Sex and the City, so I had hope.

I had only seen a couple of seasons, so we skipped ahead the ones I hadn't seen. We sat on the bed, and while I was laughing, Graham got quieter and quieter. Upon noticing that his arms were crossed against his chest, like a BARRICADE, I took it for not exactly the BEST sign. I don't know about any of you, but it is REALLY HARD to adequately enjoy MEANINGLESS HUMOR, when you are sure that the person next to you is staring upon the object of humor with such skepticism, that it nearly drains all the electricity from the room, leaving it a DIM WORLD INDEED.

Afterwards, he asked, "Tell me what you like about the show." Again, not a good sign. It was like I had suddenly become an alien to him and he found my ways strange and wanted a way to understand my world. I rattled off my reasons, describing a particular episode, and its particular shenanigans, and I was laughing, and then I realized he was dead silent again, so I finished the story by telling him, "and then I found twenty bucks." That's how I finish every story that starts off like a good idea, but then I realize at midpoint, that there is ABSOLUTELY NO POINT. By adding that I found twenty bucks, suddenly, IT IS A GREAT STORY. He appreciated the effort, but was not convinced.

So, while Graham pines for his beloved Groucho, Gummo, Zeppo, Chico, and Harpo, I'll settle in and laugh outloud at my own characters. Sometimes it's just easier and more fun to indulge in treats, while no one is there to say, make me understand this. I'm laughing hysterically, what's to understand?

And then I found twenty bucks.

Infestation of the cutest kind

Don't think for a second that the kittens, otherwise known as the GLOBS of love have gone away. Far from it! They have taken to the FLOOR! They now have ears ON TOP of their heads, instead of on either side. They now MEW incessantly upon seeing you and sidewind their way towards you. All to the absolute chagrin of our mama kitty, who has become a NEUROTIC MESS. Poor thing--she used to be able to get a break from the pack, to give her red milk duds a break, but alas, NO. The box has become a mosh pit, and she leaps out, only to see them spill after her and then SCATTER. One particular kitten, we have named Muffin Top, she has a particular thing for. We woke up at 5:30 am to her leaping into our bed with him, as if to say HERE. I can't do anything with him, maybe YOU can DEAL with him.

They are adorable, but like so many cute things you let in, they are becoming TROUBLE. They swarm your feet and you can't have a second to yourself. You'd go crazy, only they are SO FRIGGN' CUTE it's HARD to feel bad thoughts when you are staring into the CUTE ABYSS:



It hurts, doesn't it? Looking at this picture makes me want to get a couple of slices of wonderbread and some ketchup and HAVE AT IT. Can you imagine what it's like to be sitting there, innocently reading a riveting book by a riveting author about riveting times, when you suddenly feel the scratchy sensation of a TEENY TINY MOUTH making jabs at your TOES? You look down and see this face staring back at you? Then when you pick one up, they are so SOFT and weightless, you might as well be holding a warm bundle of NOTHING.

When Sleater-Mama looks up at us with this look like, where have my quiet spazzy days gone, we reassure her that they will return in another month's time. Until then, we will have to WITHSTAND this cute infestation. It's a lot better than cockraoches and mice--the OTHER infestations we have had to withstand. Plus, what infestation ever slept and stole your heart all at the same time?

To Hold You and Try

With all this travel talk I neglected to fill in any details about THE SONG I played at Andromeda and Rob's wedding (a.k.a. The Love Fest of May 2006). About two months ago when Andromeda called me to share the joyful news of her upcoming nuptials, she asked if I might play a song during the ceremony. This was not only totally an honor, but an exciting challenge: just what ENTICING MELODY could I pull off in order to kick start THE REST OF THEIR LIVES?

The possibilities were endless! I thought about exciting covers. Knowing that Andromeda's favorite song of all time is Dee-Lite's "Groove Is In the Heart," I thought for about 10 seconds about attempting an acoustic version of this song. Turns out, 10 seconds is enough to ponder all the sampling and the electronic delovely and delicious sounds that song has to offer, and how two months was just NOT ENOUGH TIME for a rocking folkster like me to assemble something into anything LISTENABLE. I know this is going to shock many of you, but I am not that GOOD at covers. In fact, I kind of BLOW at it. Most people who pick up guitars, seem to start by playing other people's songs, and so they learn early the nuances and rhythms of other people's compositions. I did not do this. I think I got half way through "Leaving on a Jet Plane" and thought, THIS IS BORING ALL GET OUT and set to writing my own songs. I, in fact, taught myself to play guitar by writing a new song for every new chord I needed to learn. This is so me. Now I feel trapped in my own limitations and most the time think of myself as a HALF ASSED musician, who can't tell you for the life of me what KEY anything is in, much less do an inspired version of ANYONE ELSE'S SONGS.

So after pondering the idea of covers for 10 seconds, I decided to write them a song. To my total amazement this came VERY EASILY. To those of you in the know, I've been struggling with songwriter's (ahem) ISSUES for awhile. I haven't been able to finish songs very often. The song I wrote was a little upbeat ditty about how love takes an already good life and makes it GREAT. A fine sentiment. A sweet sentiment. Yet, it BUGGED ME. The song was fine, but it just didn't feel right. I began to freak out a little. I paced after playing it. I left panicked messages with Andromeda for guidance. She assured me that it sounded like a good song. I tried to convince myself that it would do.

Then a couple of weeks ago, I was playing guitar in the kitchen, and a little melody came to me, and something in me just knew: this is the song I am supposed to be playing for them.

The original song was about how love makes life great, and that was fine--it was about what brought them to this moment, but I felt strongly that it didn't speak to what they were ENDEAVORING TO DO, which in some ways, is BIGGER than what love can provide. Marriage seems to me a HUGE leap of faith. Years ago, a boyfriend of mine once told me that when you get married you only THINK you're promising to be with each other forever, but in fact you're promising to TRY to be together forever. That has stuck with me all these years, and I thought of this as I wrote about both what it feels like to be in love, AND how sometimes things fall apart, but you show up and TRY anyway. Sometimes that is the most powerful thing you can do. It seemed to me that they were committing to show up and try with each other, and the family they were starting. So the song I wrote, called "To Hold You and Try," spoke to that commitment and it felt very real. I am often uncomfortable with love songs, because they often don't speak to the realities of life, which are beautiful, mysterious, funny, hard, exciting, disappointing, etc. etc.. As I get older, I have shocked myself by writing love songs, and I hoped that this one would carry something for them about love, about life, about how things can be wonderful, and things can be hard--but you promise each other to hold each other and try anyway.

I think they liked it--actually I know they did. I like it too and feel so blessed to have been able to give them something that came from a place of experience and love. A good combo, I think.

Reality Shows

Well, it's all so weird to be gone a week. A week really isn't that long, but this trip felt like a WHOLE LIFETIME. I've come back to heat and greenery. I was watching the beautiful glowing blue in the sky last night as I rode in a cab from the airport. It's the kind of sky that only shows up on summer nights--and in Maxfield Parish paintings. The trees felt heavy with their leaves. I was back on the east coast and I felt the difference immediately.

On the plane, I was excited to read my new book and settle in to my first alone time in a week, when two 10 month old twin girls began sitting beind me, started a screaming duet, as they realized they were going to have to be inside a GIANT TIN CAN for 6-7 hours. I really felt for the mother, who kept saying to one of them, "Anna...Anna...ANNA!" I tried to read, but it did no good, so I went for the flimsy headphones and began a 6 hour MARATHON of Bravo's Top Chef. This is why I don't own a TV--I would never get ANYTHING done. Once I tune in, the WORLD GOES AWAY. I am HOOKED. Especially when it comes to these "high class" reality TV shows. I thought, how good could Top Chef really be? I like cooking like a lot of people, but where would the drama be, the urgency? I should have never dounbted Bravo's producers. If Reality TV is anything, it is a striking lesson in CASTING. Apparently, there are DRAMA QUEENS in the chef profession. There are chefs who CRY. There are chefs that mimic SNAKES. There are chefs that are TOTALLY ANNOYING. There are also MEAN JUDGE CHEFS. I kept waiting for Anthony Burdain to show up, but I never saw him. Maybe he was there for the big Las Vegas showdown, which was airing later last night--a show I would never get to see. OH THE SWEET SORROW.

I came home to the sweetness of Graham and a whole couch filled with kittens mewing and looking at me with such juicy adorableness, I immediately began to drool. I'm home! I'm home!

Some things I would like to share about my trip: If Christmas was the rip from UTTER HELL, this was the trip that made up for it. Number one reason was that I got to spend 4 days straight with friends. Almost all of them I've knows since we were wee kiddies playing in a mud puddle, but since I spent the last 3 years back in California, I feel closer to them than ever. When I left, I had that feeling I used to after a slumber party, or a class camping trip, when the world seemed so QUIET and if I allowed myself to admit it, I was UTTERLY BEREFT at being apart from them. I love you, people, and I miss you dearly.

But New York calls and so does my life here. When I was flying home, during commercial breaks, I was wishing there was a way that I could somehow just meld all the favorite parts of my life together and just live those things all the time. It would include New York, the Bay Area, Graham, Art, Music, laughing with my favorite people, seeing my little brother singing in his Easter pageant, and drinking it all in. That would be a great reality show--and now commercial breaks required!

Snapshots from California

I'm having an amazing time here in sunny and then rainy and then partially cloudy and then sunny again Cali-FOR-NIA. Oh, the sweet nectar of fresh guacamole on a burrito! Oh the laughter and ease that comes with the oldest, dearest friends! Oh the funny and sweaty head of my five year old brother! It's been quite a trip so far--filled with a lot of emotion, inspiration, heartache, laughter, and wonder. I just got off the phone with Graham and declared: I don't want to come back to New York! This is after trelling so many people how great New York is--how much I feel I am coming into my own there. It's just that I love the people HERE. I had forgotten how great it was just to be in a room full of people you know and who know you. I miss it. I also am just afresh from thelargest love fest I have attended in years, otherwise known as the WEDDING OF ROB & ANDROMEDA. Weddings are mixed bags, as so many people know--bringing up the shizzle like little else. This one was no different, BUT of course, the ceremony happens, and it was just SO FRIGGN' BEAUTIFUL. We worried over rain, but the clouds parted for the ceremony, and that was only the beginning. When the otherwise quiet groom, speaks directly to your friend of 25 years, and opens up with the the line: You are the love of my life, and then begins to cry, you feel your heart leap to the bars of its cage and as far as KEEPING IT TOGETHER, you DON'T HAVE A CHANCE. The crowd weeps for a reason. It is a beautiful moment, not only for its declaration, but for the vulnerability and the moment of suddenly KNOWING this man for the first time.

There's just so much to tell and to feel about this week. I am blown away by how much my brother and sister have grown in the last five months. I am blown away by how grown up I feel being here, how strong, how much the last 10 months have changed me for the better. I'm on to something and I know it. This is a good time of my life and I want to savor it. What follows are snapshots to give you a taste of the last five days. They are wonderful, wonderful days filled with friends, family, my old school at night and pretty girls in violet dresses:







More soon, I promise!

Andromeda

Hey y'all, I am off to California tomorrow to see my dear friend Andromeda get hitched and to play a song I wrote for them at the wedding. Things I am looking forward to:

1) bawling my eyes out at seeing a friend I have known since I was 8 years old get married.

2) Wedding cake. If I know my friend, I know that she will get a kick ass wedding cake.

3) Going out dancing in San Francisco with all my ol' girlfriends, who I love so very much.

4) Mexican food.

5) Seeing my bro & sis.

6) Reading my new book.

7) Tank top weather.

8) Laughing with friends.

9) Playing a brand new song and being part of the ceremony.

10) coming home to Grahammy.

See you soon!

They Voted for Nixon

Graham's parents, Jenny and John, are in town and I just had lunch with them--BY MYSELF. Later this evening, I will be meeting them for a drink at the Algonquin--BY MYSELF. Graham is in the mad throws of finishing up the semester, and also getting WILDLY SICK. Poor guy, he has something that is worse than what I had. Last night his voice sounded like Marlene Detreich's, which is usually pretty hot. The only thing is, it doesn't seem to fit on a 6' 4" philosophy major, as it does to a 5' 2" German entertainer. Go figure, right?

Jenny and John are the same age as my parents, but they were the first of their generation to teach me that not everyone got SWEPT UP IN FLOWER POWER. Thinking back, when I got into high school, I am sure there were parents that I met that had never raised their fists at an anti-war rally in their lives, much less ate tofu or even knew the benefits of Berkenstocks. Yet, it took me 33 years to meet Jenny and John and understand that there were people born in the baby boom generation that voted for Nixon--TWICE. I almost passed out when Jenny and John told me this information. It literally ROCKED MY WHOLE WORLD. I called my folks, Pam and Gary and it was like I was having a fit. I just kept saying over and over again: THEY VOTED FOR NIXON THEY VOTED FOR NIXON THEY VOTED FOR NIXON THEY VOTED FOR NIXON. I grew up in households that were still feeling the effects of Watergate and Vietnam ten or fifteen years later. Every political discussion seemed to be an echo of that period. While Graham's dad proudly framed a picture of Ronald Reagan and put it on his desk, President Reagan was pretty much the anti-Christ at my dinner table. Graham's dad SIGNED UP for Vietnam, while I have family member who dodged the draft. John went to UC Berkeley, but thought the radicalism spawned on that campus was WEIRD. I can tell you that the radical thoughts spawned in my head at the receipt of this information was VERY WEIRD INDEED.

As a result, they were shockingly ignorant of all the cultural paraphernalia of the times, that my folks so deeply entrenched themselves. To them, Graham Parsons was their youngest son, while to my folks, Gram Parsons was a tragic rockstar, who died too young.

Needless to say, my first visit to their home was DIZZYING. The mouse in my head was running faster than ever at the wheel, causing sparks at the gears. In a way, I still don't know what to do with this information. Yet, the cool thing about Jenny and John is that they are both so very open to discussion. Jenny is a therapist, and therefore they have a very open household to feelings and expressing, something that isn't necessarily as clear an option in all the homes I grew up in. If I needed to process anything, like my shock that they had voted for Nixon, I could say: I am shocked by this, and it wouldn't have been an issue for them. We would have discussed it at length. Also, they are very open to all my questions: So what was there TO DO in the late sixties and early seventies, if you weren't attending a Jefferson Airplane concert or getting ENLIGHTENED by LSD? Seriously, I want to know. Turns out, it's of course not much different. They had kids, did their job, and hung out with friends.

So, today it's me and Graham's parents, all the way, baby. This isn't so bad, as I kind of like them, and they are of the type of parents that embrace older, hippie-raised girlfriends of their sons, despie the differences. These are my favorite type of parents, indeed.

Shine Like a Crazy Diamond

Good morning! Have a good week? I had a wild week--it was as if going off the computer made my world a daily bout of THINGS TO TELL. I had crazy subway rides, disocveries of new neighborhoods, wild dreams, and kittens who's EYES HAVE OPENED! I went into greet Sleater-Kitty and the gang, and found 5 pairs of eyes looking in my direction! It was ADORABLE.

I also played a show on friday, which felt kind of special. Pianos can be a rough place to play--no pay, and the "audience" usually stands around talking and ignoring you. This is what happened intially, then the bulk of the "audience" left, emptying the room, but for a couple who had come to see me, Graham, and the bar staff. Normally, this kind of show would have winded me. I would have felt APOLOGETIC--but something happened in me. I felt a little switch that said: this show is not going to make or break me, it's about doing what I am meant to do: shine like a CRAZY DIAMOND. I played my heart out. Here's a secret: if the bar staff like you, YOU ARE A ROCKSTAR. They see people every single night, and are want to ignore you and treat you like the kid their parents FORCED to invite to their party. The Pianos bar staff were a KICK ASS audience. It helped to have them be so warm and encouraging.

Then there was Graham. I know I say this all the time, but I love this man. I told him about my new sense of feeling and he said that he could tell something had changed. Then he said, "You are so good. I am not kidding, you are REALLY GOOD. If you ever doubt that you are rocking just know that I am ROCKING OUT ENTIRELY with you. I am so completely with you!" It was one of those moments that I took in, foldinf it up like a wonderful letter, and stored it inside of me. It was one of my favorite Graham moments. Afterwards we DID go to Katz's and I hadthe best tasting pastrami on the PLANET!

I feel more committed to this musical path than ever before. I still don't understand anything, I am not sure what anything means, but I feel like all I want to do is live this life in this way. I'm good at it. Also, and more to the point, I LOVE PLAYING MUSIC SO MUCH IT MAKES MY HEART BUST OPEN. I might feel completely different tomorrow or maybe even later on today, but right this second, on a rainy morning in New York, I feel ready and solid and very hopeful indeed.

Please come see me play at Pianos THIS FRIDAY, May 12th (details below).

Show This Friday

photo by Brian Van

Playing once again at Pianos in the Lower East Side. It's an early show--8:00pm--so if you come, maybe we can hang out afterwards and then go around the corner to Katz's Delicatessen and get MILE HIGH pastrami sandwhiches. Mmmmm...wall of meat...yummmmmmm!

Summer Pierre
killing you softly with her song
Friday, May 12, 8:00pm
Pianos
158 Ludlow Street (at Stanton)
New York City!

21+, but no cover whatsoever!

halleluja!

Down in Purr Land

Sleater-Mama and her little cafe and cream colored brood continue to flourish. I can't help but want to stick my hand in the box crawling with furballs, and bring one to my mouth to feast on.



It just ain't right for things to be this soft, this fuzzy, this helpless, this CUTE. And just in case, you weren't clear what we are living with on a day to day basis:

We Be Friends

Jen, at her recent good-bye party from work, taken by the excellent Don P., and completely ripped off, from his hilarious and wonderful blog.

Ladies & Gentleman, if I could pry you away from the orange white blobs of cuteness for one moment, I’d like to shout HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my friend Jenny Sue! It isn’t Jenny Sue’s fault that her birthday would fall on the day after our home was infested with cute kittens. Nor is it her fault that it would fall in a week that I was feeling crummy with a cold. But she will just have to settle for the JENNIFER SUE ZIEGLIER BIRTHDAY TRIBUTE a day late.

Where do I even begin to assemble the words of how great she is? When I met her, she was walking through the lobby of her now former job, and she introduced herself. Sometimes when you meet someone you just know: YOU AND ME BE FRIENDS. That’s what it was like when I met her. A little light went on, that said, this gal is going to be my friend. The first time we hung out, she brought chocolate. Need I say, I knew then she was a keeper!

Jenny Sue is the youngest of EIGHT KIDS. One of the things I love about her is that you can perfectly imagine who she was as a kid. Meaning, the kid in her is never far from the adult. Once we ended up in an empty dance club, and the minute she spied the short stage and microphone, she was ON IT! We couldn’t get her away from it! She has an enthusiasm for life that is infectious. Almost everyone who meets her wants to be around her more often. She’s also the most fun to be in a bookstore with. I don’t know why, but the hijinks between us never got CRAZIER than when we were browsing in Bookshop Santa Cruz on a Thursday night. Inevitably, one of us would start making some theatrical joke and neither of us could stop the rollicking giggles from coming over us. It seemed only to DOUBLE, when there was a poetry reading happening, and we would be snickering, trying to contain the roar of laughter that was building inside of us, doubling over in the Self-Help section at the far end of the store. It happened nearly every time without fail. We’d even start somewhere else, have serious, meaningful talks about life and journeys, and whether ice cream should be eaten, end up in the bookstore, quietly browsing, and then one of us, would start with a joke about a book title, and THAT WOULD BE IT. I’d say those Thursday nights are what I miss most about being in California—tied with Sunday nights with my little brother and sister, and the Pacific Ocean.

Recently, she quit a well paying corporate job, to do non-profit work for PETA, to follow her passion for animals and animal rights. Not many of us have much wherewithal to even know what our passions are, much less follow them. Like everyone else, she has many self-complaints, and I would say that she doesn’t know how incredibly BRAVE and WISE she truly is. To this, I’d also like to add that she is an incredible athlete, seamstress, dancer, dreamer, adventurer, fashion icon, and artist. I can honestly say that that my friendship with her has taught me more about REAL friendship and relationships than anyone else. What a gift.

Jenny Sue, thank God you were born. What a dim bulb my life would be without you. Happy Birthday.

Birth Announcement!

I couldn't resist posting: Sleater-Kitty and all five babes are doing well. I don't think I've ever seen a litter take after a mother so much.

The Good & the Bad

Hey there gang of my heart--

I've got some good news and I've got some "bad" news.

The good news is that Sleater-Kitty is in the process (as I type) of giving birth to a litter of kittens. When I left for work, she had one. Midwife Graham has called to say there are now four, with more on the way! We both feel a bit emotional about it because in the last 48 hours she has gone from UTTER FREAKAZOID to wise, cute mama sage. The only way I knew she was in labor, was when she lay on our bed, she started doing the pushing motion on her bottom legs. I picked her up and put her in her box, where she purred her way to a sleak, calico kitten. I kept teliing her that she was brave and smart to come to our home after she got KNOCKED UP. This is her one and only time to have babies and by all reports, she is a champ. Although I am not thrilled to be bringing more cats into the world, I can't help but be swept up in the power and beauty of new life. It's so weird that we come here at all, much less in the HOW we arrive. It is also amazing to watch nature take its course, with our spazzy kitty. I knew the babies were coming soon, when yesterday, Sleater became the love cat. I was sick in bed, and she curled up against me purring all day. Graham took one look at us and said, "Get a room."

The bad news is that I have a crappy cold, so posting will be light this week. My ears are plugging up as I jot this note down to you. What's that you say? EH? Darn plugged up ears. Darn throat scratching up the place. See you soon.

xo

A Family Who Blogs Together, Gets to Blog About Eachother Together

My dad called me this weekend, while he was at the park with my little bro & sis. That means he was using his CELL PHONE, a relatively new and exciting addition to his life in the last year. I thought this would be great because my dad & Janae SCREEN ALL THEIR CALLS--as in, they never, under any circumstances, actually ANSWER their phone. When I got engaged about four years ago (before I broke it off about a year later), I called them to tell them the BIG NEWS, and predictably got their answering machine. My message said something along the lines of: CALL ME IMMEDIATELY! BIG NEWS! I finally heard from them about 2 weeks later. My first words to them were: Well, at least I wasn't DYING. Let's just say, it's HARD to get ahold of them. So, when my dad got a cellphone I thought, EUREKA! Only, it turns out that in the year he's had it, he's only answered the phone ONCE, and that was when he was waiting to hear from me if he got to go to see BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN. Let me tell you, he was QUICK TO ANSWER. Next time I get engaged, I'll just leave a message that says, Big News! Bruce Springsteen! I'll also have to leave the message on his HOME answering machine, because I just learned HE STILL DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO CHECK THE MESSAGES.

Anyway, the last couple times he's called it's been all about his blog. I knew he was PERFECT for the blogging world, being that he is an incredible artist and musician, and always has something interesting to talk about, but I hadn't bargained on how much he would TAKE to it. Let's just say, it's his NEW OBSESSION. Janae told me that after he got off the phone with me last time, she asked what I was up to and he said, "I don't know, we just talked about my blogging."

He hasn't posted in a week, because they got the new digital camera, and it's been his new focus. He said, "I haven't even checked your blog at all." I never in a million years thought I'd be having these types of blog obsessive, technology-type conversations with my dad. Up until recently, his idea of fancy technology was the multi-color Bic ballpoint pens--and being a near cast-off from him, I still get excited over ELECTRIC pencil sharpeners, so you can imagine how NEW and FRAGILE it all is, as we say words like "blog" and "digital camera" and "computer." Oh, it feels FUNNY on my TONGUE!

"It sure takes up a lot of time, all this typing and searching and posting." My dad said, as he wound up the conversation. I answered, "Yes it does, dad." What I should have added was, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go write this conversation down, so that I can tell countless others about it."