A few weeks ago, some friends and I were having a conversation about a local politician whom we all also know personally in varying degrees who has been arrested for drunk driving for at least the third time. More recently, he was caught cheating on his wife with his former campaign manager and stated that he was spending the night at her house so he wouldn't have to drive home after he had been drinking. What a prince. Because cheating on your wife while she is at home with your infant son is better than getting a cab, definitely. He also owes a ridiculous amount in back taxes on his posh lakefront home, and has also been accused of stiffing the keynote speaker and the catering company for a recent event he organized regarding immigration reform. And yet, he refuses to take any responsibility for his part in these events, often saying that it was a "misunderstanding", or that he feels sure that it will be proven in court that he is in the right. He also never even considers that he should possibly step down from his post in county leadership.

One of the friends with whom I was discussing this issue feels that the aforementioned politician is of the opinion that he can do no wrong, even though he obviously does do wrong. A lot. The same friend is also of the opinion that the politician is a typical prettyish boy who has always gotten what he wanted because his daddy has a lot of money and is prominent in the community, and was able to pull some strings to keep him out of trouble for a quite a while in other brushes with the law and morality, for all intents and purposes. Swaggering around with the sense of entitlement and affectation that only Southern boys who have generations of "good" frat boy legacies can give is their M.O., and they usually have more than their fair share of charisma that makes people want to swim in their glow. (It almost makes you want to forgive them for being complete cads, and perhaps chase them a little when you are in college because they represented "high class" to you at the time. And I am definitely not talking about myself.) These are the kind of people I can't stand, and that I certainly never was, because my daddy has neither money or community standing. I still sure as hell would still rather be me, though. Because I actually was raised to have a conscience. And feel remorse when I am caught doing something wrong, or sometimes even when I am not caught. (Or even when things are not my fault. But that is another blog post.)

And now today, our esteemed governor comes out with this:

Governor Sanford Admits Affair and Explains Disappearance
At least Sanford apologized and said he was wrong, but I am wondering if he really means it, or if he is just saying it for the PR. The good news for JWO, or myself, for that matter, is that if we ever decided we would like to try our hands at politics, we would never even get past the primaries because of my sordid past. Most of which has been publicized in my blog and my high school yearbooks.

Okay, I am obviously behind the curve on this one since they have already been on "Good Morning America", "The Bonnie Hunt Show", and have actually performed with one of my absolute favorite bands, Crowded House, but I just got a taste of a little real life "Glee" on youtube. Whoever the teacher is has my heart-he is teaching these younguns songs that I love the most at a public school in New York, and is also keeping it contemporary by including songs by the likes of Lady GaGa. He is also obviously teaching these kids that music isn't just about words and music, but about the connection and the feelings that the songs evoke, no matter how new or old they are, or from which genre the come. Sounds like much more fun to me than singing the G-Rated version of "Jeremiah Was A Bullfrog" in which the line about "helping him drink his wine" was changed to "we always had a might fine time" in my elementary school music classes. Oh, and my teacher was a lady who looked like a gypsy frog and we were accompanied by a scratchy, worn out record. And the classroom was in a trailer because asbestos was being removed from the classroom building. And then I walked uphill both ways in the snow. Anyway, these are some of my favorites.


"Everybody's Changing"

"Don't Stop Believin'"
Around the 1:22 mark, this little boy gave me chills with his sweet voice.

"Just Dance"

"Don't Dream It's Over"

Uh-huh, sure you were there for legitimate massage therapy, Mr. Suckuleta.

Suckuleta's Daddy Busted

Sorry about the lapse in entries lately-spring is busy time at Casa de O, and also, I have been plain old slack. Anyway, I am back.

The other day, my friend, Shelley H-R, posted this video on facebook that has been on my mind for days. Though it is ridiculous and cheesy, I was a little excited about it, because I am pretty sure a commerical like this would have never been fathomed even 20 years ago, especially in tiny High Point, North Carolina. Though they are known for their furniture, they aren't necessarily known for their progressive social practices. Everything is grey at The Red House, apparently, and they even like "Ixpanics", too.

As an aside, my girl Shelley H-R has started her very own blog, and I suggest you check it out-it is fantastic!

Last weekend I was fortunate enough to take a trip down to Ocean Isle, North Carolina with a group of five other friends from the hood. The weather wasn't the best for the beach, so after sitting in the sand for a little over an hour in gale force winds, we decided to head in and do a little exploring. I had seen a few advertisements for Silver Coast Winery nearby, so we dropped by for a visit. The winery itself is located literally in the middle of tobacco fields and backs up to a home whose dogs like to chase the cars as they drive past to get to and from the winery. Only a little unnerving when it looks like they just ran under the tires of your car. Regardless, the winery has a lovely room used for gatherings, and the day we were there, it was being prepared for a wedding reception, and we got to see the bridal party as they arrived and posed for photos. The reception room is where the word "lovely" as a descriptor for the winery ends, though, because the wine they offer is just plain awful. It takes a lot for me to say that any kind of wine is bad, but this stuff was horrible. We each sampled six red or white wines for six dollars, and I felt that they should have paid us to taste that swill. I simply could not believe how bad it was. The people who work there are super nice, though, and I wanted to like it. Really, I did. But it was bad. Really, really bad.

This weekend JWO and I returned to the fabulous epicentre in uptown Charlotte, and spent the evening at Howl at the Moon with Shelley H-R, Timmy, Kerri, Eric, Devonda, Jose, Brenna, and John. The last time I had been to a dueling piano bar was when I was in grad school in Austin over ten years ago, and I loved it. Howl in Charlotte is similar, but they had the addition of drums, guitar, horns, and bass on a some of the requests, which did add a lot to the songs, even though it did seem a little counterintuitive to me at first to have them at a piano bar. Picky, picky.

The entertainers were so good, it made me want to take up the piano again, even though I took about five years of lessons as a youth and still can not play anything...I might be able to pick out my seventh grade "contemporary" recital piece, "I've Had The Time Of My Life" if I had to, but I am pretty sure no one really wants that. The music ranged from standard Billy Joel selections to Coldplay-next time I will come a little better prepared-the pressure was on to choose songs, and I was having a hard time thinking of songs while other music was playing. Shelley H-R knew we were going to be hearing some Toto that night-she had planned ahead, and Eric even had the song request slip ready for her when we got there. That is some real dedication.

We got there on the early side, 6:30ish, and snagged a table on the suggestion of Shelley H-R and Timmy, and I am really glad we did, because most of the tables and chairs were reserved for various milestone parties. The people watching was almost as much fun as the music, and there was a wide array of people there, including Bitter 40 Something Who WILL NOT Crack A Smile, about 20 Bachelorettes, 40 Year Old Birthday Boy And His Anatomically Correct Blow Up Doll, Overgrown Drunk Bow Tie And Shorts Frat Boy, and a miserable looking wait staff who were forced to get up on stage and act out/dance to annoying songs like "Roller Coaster of Love", which I am pretty sure everyone wanted to hear about as much as they want to hear me banging out my awesome* recital pieces. Obviously, this is not a place for kids as the lyrics and such got a bit raunchy, and it is, you know, a BAR. Overall, it was loads of fun, though by the end of the evening we were ready to go when the entertainers were doing more of the obligatory shine of all of the milestone party honorees than playing requested songs, which was fine because we needed to get home anyway. It was super fun, though, and we are all now MEMBERS of da club. You should all be jealous, as I am told it is pretty exclusive.

*I could probably also pick out "The Rose", too, in case you really want to hear that one.

My new favorite summer drink has made itself known to me, and it is the yum. If you are of legal drinking age and are able to consume responsibly, I highly suggest you get you some. It is sparkly and fuzzy and fruity and refreshing and is usually around ten bucks a bottle, but I found it cheaper on a quick internet search. If you can't find it, you can use my own Redneck Martini recipe, which is half a glass of cheap Sauvignon Blanc mixed with half a glass of Diet Sprite. Don't judge me. It is totally good. Twin Vines 2007 Vinho Verde Thank you, thank you, thank you, Christine, for introducing me to to my new favorite thing.

Here is something weird: I have had several people tell me that they enjoy reading my blog while they are either pumping or breastfeeding. While I am so excited that people are reading about my "different take" (Hi, Char!) on the world on a regular basis, I am a little weirded out that people are doing it while providing nourishment for their children out of their boobies. Especially since I never nursed FOO. Didn't even try, and still think it was the best decision ever for me. Regardless, I am glad I have a small but loyal readership, and I will even overlook the ooky breastfeeding thing being associated with it. I feel so close to and only a little bit violated by all of you.

This touched my heart. Thanks for the link, Shelley H-R.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u_4qwVLqt9Q

It seems like I have written about a million entries about running and how much I love/hate it, and how I would totally kick it's ass in a bar fight if I had enough beer in me. Then I would kiss it's boyfriend just for good measure. Regardless, running and I had a fun weekend together, and we are sort of friends right now. I ran in the Cooper River Bridge Run> with about 35,000 of my closest friends on Saturday. I had trained intermittently since early February, and though my time was thwarted a bit by a pesky leg injury that haunts me every time run more than two miles, it was exciting and soothing to hear that many running shoes softly padding across the bridge and through downtown Charleston. Considering I wasn't even able to run a mile a little over a year ago, I am super proud of myself that I ran/hobbled over six miles in such a jubilant atmosphere. I am pretty sure that I would have finished faster if I had worn this shirt, but I couldn't get it shipped here in time for the race. Guess I will save that for next year.