And the Grammy Goes To:

“And the Grammy Award for Best New Artist goes to: Esperanza Spalding.”


Wow. I have to admit when I watched the Grammy Awards and heard the name “Esperanza Spalding” and not “Justin Bieber”…I was in total shock.


Bieber seemed like a runaway, a walkaway….a shoe-in. He was having a banner year…selling out concerts…#1 hits on the radio…a self-promoting, self-absorbing movie about him. It only seemed natural that the apple cart would keep cruising down Easy Street…and the Award would follow.


So the Esperanza win over The Bieb came as a HUGE upset. Upset…because her win was totally unexpected. And Upset…because Bieber fans were sooo upset…their baby bellies were feeling sick. They were so disturbed that their apple cart was upset…they put out death threats on Esperanza.


Yo stupido pint-sized Bieber fans…it isn’t her fault. Blame the people who vote.


Anywhooooooooooooooo…………………


They say that after the Grammy’s the scans for Arcade Fire went up 95 % , for Mumford and Sons up 99 %...and for Esperanza Spalding up 243 %. Yikes. Apparently no one knew who she was.


But alas…I did. I was familiar with this jazz bassist/singer because she went to Berklee College of Music and taught when Colinboy and the guys in Dear Havanah were there. She is the first jazz artist to win the award. This Kat likes razzmatazz and all that jazz.


So grow up Bieber fans. Grow up and get over it….and I would venture to say…that over time, you’ll just plain grow up. You’ll have to…What are you 12 or something?


And hopefully one day…another dream can be realized….

"And the Grammy goes to: Dear Havanah."

(click on link below)
http://www.nbcphiladelphia.com/shows/10-show/Dear_Havanah_Performs_Philadelphia-116489023.html

Winter Blues

Snap crack bang. That wasn’t my bowl of Cocoa Krispies startling me this morning when I added milk…but something more alarming. With a day of 50 degree weather… our house, aka the ice house…is beginning to melt.

With every increase in degree…our home sounds like it is under attack from enemy fire. I jump and run for cover every time I hear a bang, but alas, this lass’s ass isn’t grass…it is only the sound of ice melting and sliding off our roof.

This has been a crazy winter. Every time we’ve turned around…we’ve had another 10 inches fall on our heads, roads, driveways, and sidewalks. Hopefully, we’ve reached the end of winter madness.

The mounting snow accumulation has caused a surmountain of problems. (Sorry, love to make up words) And the cold temps haven’t allowed for melting between snowstorms. Without a snow rake and huge pair of kahunas…to clear off your roof…you run the risk of a collapse or leak.

Anywhooo……..……

Not everyone is singing the “I Hate the Freakin Winter/Snow Blues.” There are some that actually dig it…namely…snow plowers, body shops, and roofers. One man's misery...is another man's cash cow.

When last year our plow guy didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of turning a profit...things certainly have turned around. As my mom would say: “That fellow is making money hand over fist.” He must be eating high on the hog now. Last winter he was eating somewhere near the tail. I know this because…I got his bill last week.

The numeri storms increased fender benders two-three-multiple-fold. It is especially scary/frustrating when a plow backs directly into you…and nothing stops him from coming. I know this because…I tried honking.

The roof repair people are shingling with excitement over the amount of work they have now. Their work load is through the roof. Yo. Yo. I know this because…after a certain age (especially 50) most people have snow on the roof.

With warmer weather in the forecast this week…I will be running for cover as I’m startled by the ice melting and falling from our roof and gutters. I know this because…I am dramatic.

Westminster Gone to the Dogs

Hey…this is Duncandog here. I haven’t spoken in a while, but I have a few things I need to get off my barrel chest.


How do I get my behind in that Westminster Dog Show for next year?


I don’t think being a Portuguese Water Dog should make me a second class dogcitizen….although I am registered as a member of the Working class. (I’ve worked my butt off for everything I have…Kat never gives me anything for free.)


But do ya think Kat would ever put the time and effort into getting me into a contest like that? Noooo. I could never see it. Not a dog’s chance. She keeps me holed up in this hole of a house…dog day in and dog day out. It’s an endless string of doggie bad dreams…and an occasional Milkbone. Big whoop, Katwoman.


Anywhooo……………..


I got a look at the winner of the “Best in Show” this year….a Scottish deerhound named Hickory. Hickory-Schmickory. That dog is butt ugly. What a hound. Bow wow.


Her hair is so wiry and scraggly...you could exfoliate with it. I’ve got such nice soft loose curls. I never use a relaxer on them…just naturally soft and smooth…like a damn ProV commercial.


And did you get a look Hickory’s legs? Woah dog…those are some bony Olive Oyl appendages…only a Popeye could like those.


They say her breed is gentle and friendly. Yo, I can be gentle and friendly too…as long as you aren’t grooming my privates…or a little kid resembling a chew toy isn’t running around.


Apparently the judges prefer the wiry, long bony-legged and needle nose types…you know…the Camilla Parker Bowles type. This certainly wasn’t the dog-eat-dog competition that you would have expected.


I hope I’m not barking up the wrong tree with my complaints. I realize the contest has been going on for 135 years…but this year’s winner for “Best in Show” is definitely a sign that the Westminster Kennel Club is going to the dogs.


Whew…I feel better now. Thanks for listening.

Walk Like an Egyptian

It finally happened. Egyptian President Mubarak finally stepped down...after he was OVERTHROWN by the Egyptian people.

First: I find it interesting Mubarak was even called a President. What President is in office for 30 years? Most times…Eight is Enough….just like the old television show.
Second: What took Mubarak so long to see the hieroglyphics were on the wall...and his gig was up?

Apparently Mubarak’s gig was too good for him to give it up. He was used to living in sheik heaven and in the lap of luxor. (Note to self: check availability at the Luxor in Vegas.) The sheik didn’t want to leave behind his Egyptian sheets. I understand why. Egyptian sheets are the King of Cottons.

Mubarak’s initial refusal to step down…led me to the realization…some people have a hard time taking the hint that it is time to move on. Apparently Mubarack wasn’t get the message that it was time for him to put his camel to bed…and walk like an Egyptian…toward the door.

In order to get Mubarak to hit the dusty desert road…it took a racket, a riot, a revolution…by the Egyptian people. A revolution organized on Facebook. Mark Zukerberg could not have known his social network at Harvard would grow into a big pharaoh deal and become something that could bring down die-nasties.

Anywhooooo…............

There are those that know when they should get out of the game, before it gets ugly. Apparently even Kenny Rogers knows when to hold, knows when to walk away…knows when to run. But Mubarak is not one of them.

That got me thinking…….

It’s been 3 and a half years…and I’m still blogging. Hmmmm…maybe I’m another Mubarak and my readers are close to their breaking points…like the Eygyptians were with Mubarak after 30 years. It might take one more blog post …before I break the blog camel’s back…and they go crazy with nasty comments and a Facebook campaign to end my madness.

I better start checking Facebook to make sure there isn’t something brewing.

Should I hear…Ay oh whey oh…in the distance…I know I’m in trouble.

Happy Colintine's Day

To most people, today is Valentine’s Day….but to our family, it is Colintine’s Day. A Colin Birthday and Valentine’s Day all rolled into one sugary sweet day. So as I send out love and kisses to all my favorite Valentines…I also send out love and birthday wishes to Colinboy for a “Happy Birthday.”

23 years AGO in St. Louis…PaulA and I heard sweet music when the doctor said to us, “Congratulations…you have a son.” And 23 years later…Colinboy is making sweet music with his band, Dear Havanah. Oh, to be turning 23…finished with college and following your dream…filled with optimism, enthusiasm, and energy (where can I get me some of that.)

I know, I know…at age 23 I shouldn’t be calling him Colinboy especially with his new Jesus flo and beard look. (When did Jesus come back as a rocker?) I promise in another 23 years, I’ll drop the Colinboy nickname…and just go with Boy.

Anywhooooooooo………………

I love Valentine’s Day and all the sweet things that are wrapped up in it…hearts, flowers, cards, and candy…especially the conversational hearts. You know…the little NECCO candy hearts with short and sweet sayings. I like reading the little sayings on each candy heart as I pop them into my mouth. The only problem after 20 or 30 of them…you become very ill.

The conversation hearts have been around forever with cutsie sayings like:

Call Me
I’m Sure
Be Mine
Kiss Me
Hug Me
Whiz Kid (never got that one)

Then after a hundred years, NECCO added new sayings in the 90's to stay with the times:

Fax Me
Email Me

In 2000 they added:
Got Love
2000 Hugs
2000 Kisses.

I think the little hearts are due for some new sayings;

FB Me
Text Me
Tweet

Some Colin sayings would certainly jazz things up:

Waz up
Corp Flo
Mwaha
Woot
Idk
yahoo
DH rulz

And should NECCO give me a chance…I would add:

…
Read
Kats
Blog

P.S.

Have a Happy Birthday Colin(boy). Enjoy the tour…and always keep making saweet music. We are your biggest fans.

Under Reconstruction

Unbeknownst to me...a little mole infiltrated my blog shop and managed to create major underground damage.

The mole is a cute and seemingly innocent little mole, but her persistent works brought down the foundation of my blog. Before I knew it...the floors buckled, the walls fell, and the ceiling caved. I then was forced to reconstruct a new shop.

A renovation was probably long overdue and in the end...I will have the little mole to thank. But until then...when I get my hands on that mole........



Anywhooooo...........


This will be the new model for my blog shop...until the little mole rears her head again and decides I am in need of another remodeling.

National Botch/Blunder/Blooper

By now you had to have heard. Heard what happened to the Mickey Mouse Clubteer…turned mega recording artist...turned movie actress…turned blonde…..Christina Aguilera (aka Xtina) at this year’s Super Bowl.

Even if you weren’t into the Super Bowl because your favorite team didn’t make it. Even if you were watching a MOVIE (ahem, Wishy) instead of the SUPER of Bowls…you had to have heard that Xtina messed up the words to the National Anthem.

And it appears the blunder is something that Xtina can’t live down. It has taken on a life of its own...and is currently walking down Rodeo Drive. Her flub has become fodder for late night comedians…the talk of talk shows…and banter for bloggers.

The Super Bowl is a LIVE event and anything can happen during a live event. Your clothes could suddenly fall off exposing yourself to 100s of millions of people. Oh Say We Can See. YOWSER.

Anywhooo……………..

As a fellow national anthem singer (okay small potatoes) I would never jump on the Xtina bashing bandwagon. I know what it is like to stand in front of thousands of people …and I’m not a professional. (Although I do play one on TV.)

It just goes to show you how difficult the song is to sing. So in effect, Xtina’s blooper brings more credit to the fact that I haven’t (yet) screwed up the words over the past 10 years. (Never say “never.” It’s the sure kiss of doom.)

Fergie commented that Xtina’s mess up was probably due to nerves….I doubt it. Xtina has been singing in front of people since she was Christina. It has to do with the nature of the song. The words to the national anthem just don’t roll off your tongue like poetic words to songs like: “I wanna be a millionaire, so freakin’ bad.”

The national anthem is about ‘ramparts’ and ‘rockets’ and ‘gleaming’ and ‘streaming’…one missed word will send the anthem singer careening in another direction. Francis Scott Key could have made it easier on us all and chosen simple words that are easier to remember…like…"boom boom pow…gotta get-get.” Apparently, the Black Eyed Peas hit the scene a couple of centuries too late.

Unfortunately there are no do-overs with the national anthem. That is what is so scary about it. There are no second and third chances like Bill Clinton has had over the years. Clinton is King of Do-Overs…but has nothing on Trump…the King of comb-overs.

If I could give Katvice to Xtina, I would tell her… “Practice does make perfect.” But not the standard practice. I have found the best way to practice the national anthem is to sing the words while thinking of something entirely different…so the words come to you automatically. For example, think about: what you’re doing this weekend or your next meal. I know if I can sing the entire song without...slipping in my lunch order…I’m good to go.

I would be happy to help Xtina before the next time she performs the national anthem. Does anyone have her number?

"O’er the land of the Frito and the home of the Buffalo Wings."