Until I started to write this blog entry, I had forgotten how much I loved Bill Fitzhugh’s book, Pest Control. It is, hands down, one of the funniest books I’ve ever read. It also got me a date. See, I bought it, then went into the B&N cafe to start reading it (as was my wont back in the college days) and I started giggling out loud. The laughter caught the attention of a fellow bookworm, who struck up a conversation and asked me out.
That dating relationship lasted somewhat longer than the “romance” that blossomed in my psychologist’s office around the same time, but was no less strange. Oh, the stories I have to tell, People. The stories I have to tell.
Anyway, Bill Fitzhugh. Hilarious. Look him up. Organ Grinders is another great work of his.
I remembered Fitzhugh because I had forgotten a large part of an interview I read that involved him. I’m getting there. Stay with me. I can’t remember if it was Fitzhugh being interviewed, or someone else being interviewed who mentioned him, but the long and short of it was that one author had worked his arse off trying to get published and there had been some hijinks about renting an ice cream cone costume to try to get his manuscript into the hands of an agent/publisher/something, and one author just sent in a manuscript and was published and famous the next day. It was an anecdote about how fickle the publishing industry is–any industry that relies on public consumption, really.
Is it who you know? Or how good you are at what you do? Or just happening to be where lightning strikes? Or what? JK Rowling and EL James are both names you’d recognize, but took very different pathways to their success. And seriously? How depressing must that be for some writers? I mean, Rowling is a demi-god, who should stand in the Pantheon with Lewis and Tolkien (sacrilege? I think not.) You can be okay with never achieving her level of success because–look at her body of work! James is… a very different story. Although, it makes you feel better about your chances at being struck by lightning, it might make you feel a lot worse about rejection notices.
Everyone goes about it differently. There isn’t any set way. The only things that are certain are that you must have the mental energy to finish a manuscript, the willingness to put it out there for criticism, the ability to accept rejection, a thick enough skin to live around the people who hate it, and the optimism, self-confidence and mental energy to do it all over again until lightning strikes. Lather, rinse, repeat.
It’s funny how many of my friends are writers. I didn’t go looking for writer friends. We all just sort of ended up in the same places (LiveJournal, TTP, Facebook–places where you can write) excited about the same things. We work together, most of us, to help each other along.
And that’s good, because while I am totally into the idea of wearing an ice cream cone costume, I am exhausted by the idea of printing out so many pages of work and hulking them around everywhere.
Interior: A mother and her son are discussing the finer points of the boy’s favorite cartoon/money-pit.
Thor: So, Laval is the good guy and he’s a lion, and Cragger is the bad guy. He’s a crocodile. He–
Me: Is Cragger at all conflicted about being a bad guy, or is he just bad?
Thor: Uh…he’s conflicted.
Me: Good. That’s better storytelling. Why is he conflicted?
Thor: Well, a series of events occurred that made him that way.
Me: Did he start all good? Or did he start all bad?
Thor: The Crocodiles are bad, but he was kind of good, then [this series of events] made him bad. Oh, and his sister puts this gas on him to make him be worse.
Me: His sister is drugging him? That’s not nice!
Thor: She’s all bad. She wants all the Chi.
Me: Hmm. I can get behind that. I want all the cheese, too. I love cheese.
Thor: No, Chi. Everyone in Chima wants the Chi.
Me: I love cheese. What kind do they have?
Thor: There is no cheese! It’s Chi! Chi! Chi is what gives them power.
Me: I wish cheese gave me power instead of stomach aches. I could get a shirt with a big–
Thor: No! Not CHEESE! CHI! CHI! C-H-I, Chi!
Me: Chi? That’s too bad. I like cheese.
Thor: *faceplant*
Me: Sorry, carry on.
Thor: Chi makes you powerful. So and the lions guard the Chi, but they share it.
Me: So explain to me the social structure here. Who rules Chima?
Thor: No one. There are just a bunch of tribes.
Me: How does the government work?
Thor: There is no government.
Me: Anarchy! That is so punk rock!
Thor: Mama!
Me: Sorry. No government. Do they have a tribal council where the leaders of the tribes to to represent their interests in the Chi, or are the lions just the de facto decision makers on who gets what, when?
Thor: No council. The lions share the Chi and pass it all out. The crocs want to keep it all for themselves.
Me: How do the other tribes feel about this?
Thor: They aren’t very smart. Listen, how about I just tell you the whole story of the last episode?
Me: How about we just watch it?
Thor: Greatness!
*we begin watching*
Me: Explain to me about the coyotes.
Thor: Those are wolves, not coyotes.
Me: Explain to me about the black eagles.
Thor: Those are ravens. The crocs and the wolves hate the eagles.
Me: Why? Is it because of Hotel California?
Thor: What?
Me: I mean, it’s a great song, but it gets a lot of play–maybe too much.
Thor: Mama!
Me: I like it. I mean, I love the Eagles. Johnny Come Lately is a great song.
Thor: *sigh* Anyway. The eagles are the thinkers and they don’t fight.
Me: Why do they have airplanes? Eagles can fly.
Thor: Mama, just watch.
Me: Okay.
*B comes through, into the kitchen*
B: What are we watching?
Thor: Lego Chima.
B: Ah. Dramatic music. Is something dramatic happening?
Me: Yes.
Lego Chima: “You guys are double and triple dealing everyone!”
Me: They are double and triple dealing everyone.
B: Ooh. Ambitious for Legos!
Me: *laughlaughlaugh*
Fin
This is what my poor kid deals with, but when all the other kids are talking about how terrible their parents are, I want him to have something solid to contribute.
In 1984, Kidd Kraddick was giving out Von Erich wrestling family posters at the big, first dance of the year at my junior high school. We kicked 8th grade off right, with this scrawny, loud DJ, who kept yelling things like, “Let’s get buck naked!” And, “Let’s go craaAAaazy!” I was disappointed he didn’t have any Duran Duran posters, but he played great music–only school dance I’ve ever been to where you got Adam Ant and Van Halen in the same set (Goody Two Shoes, and Jump–why can I remember things like this, but not where I parked my car?)
It wasn’t the first time I’d heard him. No, I used to sit and listen to his show on KEGL, blank cassette in the “record” side of my boom box, waiting with my fingers over the record and play buttons, hoping to catch a clean cut of my favorite songs. Kidd was one of the first DJs to resonate with me. He and Stoobie Doak were my DJs, and I used to call up to their shows all the time, using my middle name, just in case.
Kidd always took my calls, always remembered me as soon as I told him my [middle] name, and every time told me how much he loved it, and how he had considered it for his daughter. The last time I talked to him was a few years ago. B and I had run into him at a restaurant, and we hadn’t talked to him because he was there with his family, but Kidd and I had shared a wink and nod. The old, “I know who you are, listen your show, not going to interrupt,” chin jerk and smile, reciprocated with a, “Thanks for listening, have a good circus,” grin. I called in to the show to say hello, and he remembered my [middle–yes, I still used my middle name because…well, just in case] name from all those teenaged call-ins.
The last bit I heard Kidd do, was him reading a letter a listener had sent in about having been helped out of a hard spot by fellow show personality, J-Si. He was so proud of J-Si, and J-Si was effusive that it was Kidd’s example that had inspired him to live up to that level. WIth Kidd’s Kids, and with the Christmas Break-ins, and all the other wonderful things that Kidd did through his platform on KISS, I think a lot of people have been inspired to do more for the world around them.
You can be a legend in your field without ever making a real difference in the world. Kidd is a radio legend in DFW, who has made many, many differences in the lives of families here and beyond.
I think it is fitting that he spent his last day working to promote Kidd’s Kids. If you’ve got to go out suddenly, and you can’t do it with your family, doing it for other people’s families is the next best thing.
Thanks for everything, Kidd. I’m going to miss you.
We went to one of our favorite restaurants for lunch yesterday, and before drinks were even served, I heard a voice I recognized. The hair went up on the back of my neck, and my skin started to crawl.
I tried to pretend I didn’t hear it. When that didn’t work, I tried to pretend it didn’t matter that I could hear it. When that didn’t work, I looked at B and hissed, “If I wanted to listen to effing Dora the Explorer, I would go home and turn on television.”
Every parent has at least one show that just makes you want to jab a Q-tip so deeply into your ears that you never have to hear its theme song again. Dora is mine, mainly because DORA SHOUTS EVERY WORD SHE SAYS! AND EVERY SENTENCE ENDS IN AN EXCLAMATION POINT! AND IF THE SHOUTING AND EXCLAIMING ISN’T BAD ENOUGH! EVERY EPISODE IS A SOLID BLOCK OF REPETITION–SHOUTING AND EXCLAIMING THE SAME THINGS OVER AND OVER AGAIN!
I did my best not to shoot nasty looks at the parents who were sitting diagonal to us, who had placed an iPad in front of their toddler with Dora going at full volume. On the one hand, yes, the child was entertained so they weren’t worried about her making a fuss. On the other hand, DORA THE EXPLORER AT FULL VOLUME IS WORSE THAN A CRYING CHILD!
I have nothing against using electronic devices to distract and entertain–I have been known to hand over the smart phone to keep my own child distracted in certain situations–but there is an etiquette to be followed. Low to no volume is required in public. Or headphones. Because we’re all paying to enjoy an expected environment. Expectation of atmosphere is part of why you patronize a business, and if I know Dora is part of the equation, I’m not going there.
A few times a year, we try to take 4-day weekend roadtrips to get out of town. Let me begin by telling you that the only thing I enjoy more than roadtripping with my family, is sitting at home with my family. My husband and my son are both excellent travelers, and you couldn’t ask for better travel companions. This trip, we added in Hoo, and he was surprisingly good–save for his having minor meltdowns when it started to rain, and when he saw cows for the first time ever. He lost his mind over the cows.
Hoo’s view.
We usually get down to Corpus Christi at least once a year, and spend a day in Port Aransas, on Mustang Island, where the beaches are nicer. This year, we decided to skip to the chase, and just stay in Port A. Following are reviews of some of the products I bought specifically to take on our trip, and of some of the places we visited while we were there.
Since we were traveling with Hoo, we knew we needed a good kennel for him. He has totally outgrown the one that came home with him, which seemed massive at the time. Since he’s clocking in over 40lbs now–help me–I went with the Dosckocil Pet Taxi, sized 36W x 25L x 27H. This is made for pets between 30–70lbs. It was great! Perfect for him. We put it in the trunk unassembled, and just put our suitcases in it. It traveled well, was simple to assemble when the time came, and there was plenty of room for Hoo to stand up and move around when it was time for him to go into Puppy Jail in the condo. 5 out of 5 stars.
This blueberry muffin dry shampoo was perfect for our Hooberry muffin.
I was worried about that wet dog smell, and that wet dogfish smell that Hoo might bring home from the beach, so I made an impulse buy of Pet Head Dry Clean, blueberry muffin waterless spray shampoo. You can spray it on wet, damp, or dry fur, then towel it off, or brush it in. This was another amazing purchase because Hoo never smelled better! When we would leave the beach, I would hose him down to get the saltwater off, then give him a towel rub, spray him down with the Pet Head, and give him a quick brushing. He never stank. In fact, he smelled quite nice. The bottle was easy to manage with one hand, and Hoo didn’t seem to mind it. 5 out of 5 stars.
Fun in the sunshade!
We planned to spend as much time as possible at the beach, and unless we were going to get a vat of sunblock to dunk ourselves in every 15 minutes, we were going to need some shelter. Also, I thought Hoo might need a place to rest between barking at seagulls. I spent a couple of weeks trying to decide between the Coleman Beach Shade and another shade without a floor. The deciding factor was that the Coleman Beach Shade could be zipped up to make a changing cabana.
For about five minutes, when I was taking the thing down, I wished I’d gotten the floorless model, but outside of those few, sandy seconds, this was perfect! I was able to put it up by myself (with the help of our next tent neighbor’s loaned hammer) on an extremely windy day (the trick is filling up the included sandbags first, and using those to hold the thing down, or getting a 7 year old to put his foot in a strategic spot), and it came down just as easily. I even got it back into the tiny bag that it came in!
We fit 2 beach chairs, a 27 can cooler, a dog, and other beach stuff in comfortably, and when we got hit by a sudden storm, the three humans and the dog just zipped up inside until it had passed. I wouldn’t have wanted to spend a night in such a small space, but it worked out really nicely for what we needed. Oh, and none of us got sunburned, so mission accomplished. I kind of can’t wait to take it out again. 5 out of 5 stars.
Those 2 beach chairs were also an impulse buy. I was shopping for the cooler and Target had the chairs on sale for $10 each, so I bought them. These worked out well because of the high back. We could actually sit and relax, and there was room enough for Thor to sit on my lap through the storm.
Me getting my Norma Desmond on in my beach chair, in the cabana. No sunburn + Wicked awesome turban = Great day
While in Port A, we ate at a few different places worth note. My absolute favorite was Seafood and Spaghetti Works. The name of the restaurant pretty much sums up the menu. B had shrimp tacos, and I had spaghetti, Thor had a kiddie pizza, and Hoo got my meatballs. We were all very happy. 5 out of 5 stars. We ordered in from Port A Pizzaria on Saturday night because Thor had gotten a little too much heat during the day. We had pizza, calzone, and fried ravioli. It was all fairly good. Nothing special, but nothing bad. 3 out of 5 stars. We also ate at Castaway’s Seafood Grill and Beaches Cafe & Bakery which were 3.5 and 2.5 out of 5 stars, respectively.
My absolute favorite place to go in Corpus is Pier 99. I love, love, love their food, and am all about their fried oysters. They do a really light, cornbread coating, nothing is greasy, and everything is as light as fried food can get. It doesn’t hurt that they are on the water, right next door to the USS Lexington (which we did not visit this time), and just down the block from the Texas State Aquarium (which we did.)
Thor and a dolphin friend.
Thor had a good time at the aquarium. I don’t think it is a patch on the Dallas World Aquarium, but you can’t argue with its view of the Bay. 3.5 out of 5 stars.
We wanted to stay as close to the beach as possible, and the best price we found was for a condo/motel combination called The Beachcomber. I am putting a picture of the sign here so that you can see it, remember it, and then avoid it.
Now, I’m not high maintenance when it comes to lodging. I do love luxury, but I also have a deep, abiding fondness for dives. I don’t expect a lot from a beach condo in the first place. When I stay at the beach, I don’t want to worry that I am tracking in too much sand, or that I sat down on furniture in a wet swimsuit. I just want relatively clean, with a decent bed, and a door that locks.
The best thing about the Beachcomber is its location. It took about five minutes to walk from the front door into the water. You can’t beat that. The worst thing was everything else. It smelled funny, the sheets were stained, the doors were broken–like pieces of the door were coming off–the carpet was outdoor carpet that looked like large rodents might have given birth on it, and it was impossible to close a door without lifting and slamming.
On Sunday morning, the toilet quit working. We weren’t able to contact anyone to come fix it, so we used the shower in the best case, and drove to Whataburger in the worst. Like I said, I’m low maintenance on lodging, but I do require plumbing. Otherwise, why wouldn’t I just go sleep on the beach in my tiny cabana?
.5 out of 5 stars.
Overall, it was a fantastic trip. I was with all my favorite boys, and we had a lot of laughs. Nothing is better than being with my family.
The Outside Lane 