Contemplating My Navel (Personal Blog)

Manic Monday (June 15, 2009)

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Fun fact of the day: I included a photo of the Purple One with this post, despite the fact that “Manic Monday” is a spectacular 80s tune made popular by female rock group the Bangles. The reason I put Prince Rogers Nelson up here, beside the fact that I adore him, is that he is the author of the former #1 hit. He wrote the tune and gave it to Bangles lead singer Susannah Hoffs because he had a crush on her. Lucky girl. I don’t care if Princey is 5′ 2″ or not, he is dead sexy.

Anywhoo, today has been a hell of a day. The in-laws are here and the visit is in full swing. There have been the expected ups and downs, in and outs, a few tears. However, my hellish morning had little to do with Mummy and Papa and everything to do with karma, or whatever, raining shit down upon me. As stressed as I am, it was hardly appreciated.

Last week, the day I picked up the parents from O’Hare, as luck would have it, the rear brakes on our car started to go bad. We rented a car to drive Mummy and Papa to Indiana yesterday to see relatives. So I began my day taking my own car to Midas, getting a ride back home from a 22 year-old with pimples, before turning right around and dumping the rental car back at Enterprise. Don’t believe those haters when they say they’ll “pick you up.” They should clarify by saying, “We’ll pick you up or drop you off ONLY if you’re within a two mile radius.” I live in fact 2.5 miles away from the shop, and found myself trying to find a cab in Wrigleyville during Monday morning rush hour traffic. Not an easy task.

I returned home already bushed to be told by my father-in-law that the Internet had gone completely down. Say what? I am a freelance writer who works from home. I had my fourth theater review for the Edge due, oh, yesterday! Needless to say, my reaction to this was far from serene. I called the always useless customer service people at Comcast, only to be informed with something close to pride that I could indeed receive a housecall – on Wednesday morning. Seriously, they thought this was very helpful indeed. I resisted the urge to curse these suckers out (mostly because Mummy and Papa were in the room) and proceeded to weigh my options. I quickly wrote my review, transferred it to Eddie’s flash drive and hightailed it over to my best pal’s Gary’s house.

I booted up Gary’s laptop, finally ready to rock, only to discover that his laptop was a Mac, therefore incompatible with the PC flash drive. Zoinks! What now? Fortunately, Gary’s brother Ed saved the day. He mercifully possesses a PC laptop. While posting my already overdue review, I fielded a call that my car was ready for pickup. I dashed back over to Midas, plunked down 500 bones and came back home. It was now 2:30 PM and I hadn’t had so much as a sip of water.

My father-in-law decided to lend a hand and try to sort out the Internet situation. He, like my husband, has a Master’s degree in Information Systems. He got on the phone with Comcast and somewhow managed to find someone who knew what the hell they were talking about. It took him about an hour, and a wealth of patience I will never have, but eureka! He got me back online. For the first time since Mummy and Papa came to Chicago, the tears I cried were joyful ones.

I threw a salad and smoothie down my gullet and then it was off to Bank of America. Eddie’s folks wanted to start a bank account in the U.S. and were insistent it had to be today so they could receive their permanent debit cards before flying back to India. This took two hours. I am now in the midst of five loads of laundry created by all four of us (plus my two cats) and have cleaned the kitchen and office. I am freaking wiped and as yet, I still have a full night ahead of me.

I laugh now to think that when I left the ADA, Eddie told me to enjoy my summer “off.” Hmmmm…….

Concierge (June 12, 2009)

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You know what they say about the best laid plans. I had developed a logical and balanced itinerary. I had talked out everything in advance with both Eddie and his folks: the need to balance work with spending time with them, and keeping up with my own personal needs. And yet, here I sit a mere 19 hours after the arrival of Mummy and Papa, way behind already on work, skipping my Pilates class. I have changed Euros at Chase Bank, helped cook my first Indian dinner, learned to make tea the “right” way (and all this time I never knew I was doing it wrong), and even managed to slip out of the house to see the next show I have to review for The Edge.

Argh! Sorry I am back. My MIL was just giving me a lesson on the benefits and demerits of sleeping North/South vs. East/West, and the bad karma it causes when your head points North. Seriously. This is why I was called away from the computer. I love these folks to death, but how will I get anything done? This is exactly what I was afraid of. Eddie keeps saying we will work through this visit as a team, but that’s sort of hard when he’s out of town four days a week and working 12 hours on Fridays. I am going to need the weekend to catch up.

Folks, it’s only Day 1. I need a pep talk.

Adam Lambert is Gay!…And? (June 10, 2009)

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I know some of you will accuse me of having fallen off the back of a turnip truck. Although we are in the Obama era, all “Yes we can!” and stuff, I am aware that this country has a long way to go in terms of mutual acceptance of our brethren. Even so, it is still possible to surprise me.

That happened again this week with “news” that American Idol runner-up (it still irks me that he didn’t win) Adam Lambert has come out of the closet in the latest pages of Rolling Stone. There are a couple things about this which bother me. For one, I kind of figured out Lambert was gay the minute he came onstage during Hollywood week and sang a kick-you-in-the-ass cover of Cher’s “Believe.” My obvious question is: so what? Does that change the fact that the dude is a once in a generation musical talent? Unfortunately, Queen frontman and legend Freddie Mercury was forced to hide his sexual light under a bushel, but that was the 70s. I say that with a keen and painful awareness that we have obviously not come as far as I had hoped.

The Lambert/Mercury comparisons do not stop with sexual preference. Both men remain elecrifying rock performers. Through Freddie’s death, he has been relegated to hindsight, but it does nothing to diminish the powers of his gifts in the present day. I fully believe that Adam Lambert is capable of such greatness, with or without the Idol trophy. I look forward to many years of following his career and attending his shows.

The second part of the problem with this public media “revelation” is that it carries the implicit assumption that Lambert owes it to America to come clean, so to speak, about who he is. Again, why? Rock n’ roll has a long history of male whores such as Mick Jagger, Steven Tyler, Fred Durst, etc. They do not have to repeatedly reaffirm, with heads bent in shame, that they are straight. Boys will devilish boys, doing what is expected…..unless they choose to sleep with men after the show? Adam Lambert has a steady boyfriend, and is musically gifted. What else do we need to know? I would rather see Bret Michaels under the hot lights, grilled about the necessity of yet another season of VH1’s Rock of Love.

It is apparent that Lambert is not using his homsexuality as a marketing gimmick. I have the impression that he has only made this “announcement” because of relentless media speculation that he figured would be better put to rest. I suppose Adam wants to avoid the years of endless “Is he or isn’t he?” speculation that dogged Season 2 also-ran Clay Aiken.

Now that Lambert has given the vultures what they wanted, I hope we can move on. This interesting story from Reuters raises the inevitable specter that Adam Lambert lost the Idol competition to the wholesome Kris Allen, due to “Red State” disapproval of Lambert’s style:

http://www.reuters.com/article/entertainmentNews/idUSTRE5585FQ20090610

God, I hope not, but anything is possible. It is 2009 America. According to a number of reliable sources, 10% of the world population is gay. That means that roughly 1 out of every 10 people you encounter is homosexual. Shouldn’t we all be comfortable with this by now? If not, why?

Adam Lambert says it best: “I’m proud of my sexuality,” he said. “I embrace it. It’s just another part of me.” He seems to be a savvy gentleman with a healthy ego and a strong support system. He is not using his sexuality as a media tool, like say, Lindsay Lohan. Whether or not you are a fan of Lambert’s music, the decision should have nothing to do with what goes on behind closed doors.

Contraband (June 8, 2009)

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I am in uncharted terrority here. I am not used to hiding things, as you may have noticed. My life is pretty much an open book for anyone interested in reading. From age 16 on, I got out of the habit of covering anything from my own parents. Let them judge if they wanted. I had to find my own way, make my own mistakes, and I wasn’t ashamed if my personal growth entailed the occasional fall on my face. That has pretty much been my life philosophy ever since.

As I sit here in the middle of my living room floor surrounded by mine and Eddie’s “marital aids,” wine bottles, the feather penis boa from my bachelorette party in 2007, and anything that could conceivably be construed as drug paraphenalia, I find myself wondering when this happened. When did I become the girl who wanted to make such a good impression on her in-laws, that I am boxing up little pieces of me, even if they are the darker pieces, in order to shove them into storage, however temporarily? Of course as I review my collection assembled on the floor, I am thinking I might be closer to depraved Amy Winehouse territory than I previously allowed myself to believe. I realize there is a fine line between respectfully keeping certain things out of the in-laws line of vision, and self-censorship, and I feel for now I am on the right side of that line. But I have to guard against my own tendency to put forward my most “acceptable” social self in a given situation. Often, I edit myself into an oblivion, with the result that I feel trapped and angry. That’s kind of what happened when Eddie and I got married in India in December of ’07. This will be an especially difficult course to navigate when I am essentially, fending for myself mano y mano with Eddie’s folks for the next 30 days. My husband will ride into town every Thursday night to lend me a hand, but for the most part, it’s me, Mummy and Papa 24/7.

I have a lot more to say on this topic, but I have to go and eat all the Lean Cuisines that contain beef out of my freezer (in-laws do not condone the consumption of red meat either). Anyone else ever been in this situation? Advice?

Thanks for the Memories (June 5, 2009)

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As I drove to Oakbrook last night, attempting to meet Jen for a 8:00 showing of “Pump Boys and Dinettes” at the Drury Lane Theater, I decided to do a little channel surfing. My usual radio stations were all at commercial or playing something of a crap nature, so I looked around once to make certain I was alone (yep) before turning the dial to my favorite go-to guilty pleasure. That is Chicago “mature adult” staple, WNUA 95.5, Smooth Jazz (not that you hadn’t gathered this from the photo above). During my childhood, my parents occasional patronage of this station was cause for jeers and mockery. “Only OLD people listen to that,” I taunted them.

Well sure enough, I got older too, and while I still turned away from their various elevator music selections, WNUA was never above busting out a Roberta Flack, Whitney Houston or Peabo Bryson lite rock favorite. And don’t try to get between me and Peabo Bryson. When your choice is listening to Jamie Foxx’s criminally retarded “Blame it On the Alcohol” for the 10th time that day, or the refreshing strains of Whitney’s, “All the Man That I Need,” I think you can figure out the decision is an easy one.

So I as killed time on the expressways last evening, I went to 95.5, the home of WNUA for the last 22 years (though I swear it seems longer) to find…spanish music. Now my memory isn’t what it used to be, so for a few minutes I thought I had the wrong frequency. I started to mentally sing their jingle over and over (don’t say it), and kept coming up with the same answer. 95.5 is where WNUA should be.
Vowing to get to the bottom of this skullduggery, I Googled the station this morning. To my horror, this is what I read:

May 22, 2009

Dear WNUA Listeners,

I would like to take a moment to thank you for your loyal support of Smooth Jazz 95.5 WNUA during our 22 years of being a part of the Chicago community. We hope that you have enjoyed listening as much as we have enjoyed serving you. However, recent changes in how stations are evaluated by advertisers has resulted in a significant decline in financial support for WNUA. As a result, we are now faced with a decision that we hoped we would never need to make. Today at 9:55am we will be changing the format on our main frequency of 95.5 FM…

The WNUA On-Air Personalities have put together a photo montage of just some of our memories from the last two decades including Listener Appreciation Parties, Jazz Concerts, Trip-a-Day Destinations and so muchmore. Thank YOU for making all of these memories possible.

On behalf of Ramsey Lewis, Karen Williams, Glenn Cosby, Dave Koz, Scott Adams, and everyone at Smooth Jazz 95.5 WNUA, we sincerely thank you for listening.

Regards,
Earl Jones

President/Market Manager
Clear Channel Radio Chicago

Not Ramsey Lewis! The soothing, dulcet tones of his voice lulled me during many a post lunch half-sleep. Why God why?! Oh sure, there is still the 93.9 the Lite for Mariah Carey classics, but I am fed up with change. Sometimes there’s just too much progress for Boop, and 2009 seems to be moving faster than I can hold onto it. Is nothing sacred or reliable anymore? Healthy young friends die, financial security suddenly becomes unstable, your career moves in directions you never imagined, and now for God’s sake, even Smooth Jazz in Chicago is not safe. I enjoyed you mostly in the closet WNUA, but I owed it to you to declare my love out loud today. I’ll miss you!