Monday, March 30, 2009

So Much

...to do...so much to say......

What I should be doing babies is starting to pack. HRG is moving! And yes, TCB is coming with me. We found a great place, perfect for us, something we're both excited about. The yard, oh the yard....my fingers itch even thinking about it. Room to breathe. We can even entertain. Oh, not to say we're not already entertaining, but it'll be nice not to have to take our comedy show on the road all the time.

It's a bit melancholy tho. There's that word again. All these new beginnings, all the doors that had to be closed before the others were opened. It's four years today that life began anew. This building has a been a good place to heal, to find my footing again. Someone once referred to it as the building of the bruised. We found ourselves rebuilding our lives at the same time, in the same place. As the scars fade, each of us moved on. It's my turn now. A new place, one we picked together, one with no ghosts of old emotions. You know what I'm talking about. Or rather, who I'm talking about.

This weekend was pretty wonderful. Having managed to finally shake that bug, we went out to wow our fans, and well, that's exactly what we did. Took a brand new pair of boots for a test drive. Yup. They've become a mainstay in HRG's wardrobe. They are all that. And a bag of chips. With dip. Hit the stage with some very talented players (also very cute boys) and had more fun than should be allowed on a Saturday afternoon. Closed out with Burnin Down The House. HRG style.

TCB had a moment. It was a "this is MY wife, buddy" moment. Now you know, back in the day, HRG would've picked up on it right away and played it for everything it was worth. At first I didn't clue in to what had him standing thisclose onstage. Then I got it. The sax player who'd played the last set. Oh yeah. A very cute boy. A very very very cute boy. The former HRG would've called him up to join in. Not this time. A thought popped into my head: "you might've been good baby, but you just weren't worth the price". So I flirted shamelessly with him instead.

It's all part of the show babies, it's all part of the show.

Always up for an adventure and looking for places to pitch the new project, off we went to a great little pub in beautiful Brentwood Bay. Highly recommended, food amazing, service excellent and surprisingly cheap cheap cheap.

Actually, come to think of it, Saturday was filled with happy surprises. Let's see, surprised to put on brand new boots and have them feel like they'd been broken in already, surprised by TCB's moment, surprised that men still look at me (hell, I'm old now). There is always a big surprise at the end of a bunch of little ones, isn't there?

When I got out of the car at the pub, the first person I saw was......

HTBP.

Imagine my surprise.

Imagine his.

And then I saw Krusty.

Imagine his surprise.

HRG

Saturday, March 28, 2009

No It Really Did

....it happened just this way.

Picture if you will:

(woman sitting at keyboard, room is dim, or maybe her contact lenses are dirty. Phone rings. She squints at the call display, hesitates, then picks up the receiver)

"Hello?"

(she is met with silence and is just about to hang up when a pre-recorded message filled with static begins to play)

"(crackle crackle) Credit Card (crackle crackle hum) Urgent (hiss crackle hum crackle crackle crackle) Press One now"

(frowning, she presses the number)

"Hello?"

(man's voice is barely audible)

"Hello, this B....(crackle hiss)"

"I'm sorry, who is this? Is there a problem with our credit card?"

"This is B....(voice fades to a pitch only heard by dogs and whales) do you want to (crackle) interest rate...." (crackle buzz hiss)

"Which company are you calling from? Is there a problem?"

"Look, do you want to lower your interest rates or not?"

"Lower our what? Which company is this?"

(she waits for a response, gets nothing but silence for a moment and then the solid buzzing of the phone line begins and she realizes..................)

It had been a telephone solicitor and he'd hung up on her!

No, I wouldn't put you on because it really did, it happened just this way. The day HRG made the spam caller go away.

HRG

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Pop Quiz

Gee, we haven't had one of these in long time, have we?

Pencils ready, babies?

Let us begin:

Q: Why is it that during their mid-life crisis, men chasing younger girls are called perverts,yet when women are chasing younger men we're called Cougars?

Just wondering.

HRG

Assorted memories and stuff

You know babies, I was thinking about the store yesterday. I still haven't gone back. Maybe this week. I'm not sure I'm ready to see that big, dark, empty space that once was a vibrant, fabulous shop. Seeing it will go a long way in helping me move on. When I'm ready, I will. Maybe this week.

Besides, I have to take a plateful of treasures to the staff at my fave Starbucks. Did I tell you they brought me flowers and a boston cream pie on our last day? Yes, I cried. Buckets of tears. I almost always feel like I'm on the sidelines, not quite part of the action, so it surprises me when people do nice things. The staff there always made my days a little brighter. It's nice to know they felt the same.

There are scenes flashing through my head, memories of four pretty good years, and customers who simply reiterated what I already knew.

Jim Morrison was right babies. People ARE strange.

Remember the old saying that the "customer was always right"? Well, here's a newsflash for ya, that is so not true. Yes, there have been some really great ones--like the fireman who brought us Timbits on a regular basis. All because he overheard a conversation about staying out of the candy drawer and bikinis. He looked at me, grinned and said "eat the candy". Then he left and came back with the verboten donut holes. From that day onward, he brought us the treats every time he was in the mall. There are the mums who brought their babies in every week, it was wonderful to watch them grow, to see the smiles because they remember the Kitchen Lady. The children's book was born from the interaction with them. A simple story to calm fussy ones has become something that must be written. If for no other reason than to get it out of my head.

Ah, but it's always the nasty ones, the bullies, that stay with you. Those that argued over a return of a product that didn't come from our store. The elderly woman who let loose a string of profanities when told she couldn't have possibly talked to our head office in Toronto, because, well, there is no head office in Toronto. We weren't part of a chain. It made me wonder if she kissed her great grandchildren with that mouth. So I asked her that. It was the one question that shut her up right quick. The local television reporter who verbally abused, then threatened me because he was told that he couldn't return a mirror that had been purchased SIX months before. He was simply "too busy" to get to it before now. And after all, the picture on the box didn't show it had a cord. Then in the next breath, tells me it wasn't used, that the staff had to repackage it because it was the last one. Well sir, I replied, if that were the case, then you'd have seen the cord dangling from the mirror, since it was on display. And that's when he threatened me. I just let him rant, ignoring him while serving the next customer. He finally stormed out, drawing attention to himself, and none of it good. You know because that's what you want to do when you're a small-time reporter for a small town tv station.

Then there was the woman (old of course--in this town being old gives you the right to be nasty) who actually e-mailed to mall administration with a complaint about me. Why? Because she'd tried to return a timer that no longer worked. She'd had it for just over a year. Not a problem, I'm good with this particular supplier, replacing it, provided it really is faulty, is not an issue. My fatal mistake? Asking her if she'd checked or replaced the battery in it. Mrs. Evans was her name. She went ballistic, screaming so hard her face was red and I thought (ok, hoped) she might have a heart attack right there. The e-mail she sent was horrible and ended with her informing "everyone" that my staff were absolutely "terrified" of me. Fortunately, that statement, along with the somewhat, um, colorful, description of yours truly saw nothing but said e-mail being dismissed and tossed in the trash. It shook me though. I try so hard to be nice to everyone, personal attacks for no reason cut me to the bone.

Yet, still I'm drawn to retail. I must've been a masochist in a previous life.

Just when you thought you'd seen everything, encountered every strange person.....SURPRISE! Another would show up. Some of them made us cry, some of them had us scratching our heads, wondering wtf that was all about and some had us laughing until we cried.

But that's a story for another day.

I bet you're all a-quiver with anticipation.

HRG

Friday, March 20, 2009

Even Rock Stars Get The Blues

.....and head colds. (insert endless whining here)

Happy First Day of Spring babies! And to my (hopefully) new reader from down under, happy first day of Fall for you. A respite from the horrible heat. Meanwhile, those of us here on Fantasy Island are waiting, fingers crossed, for a summer like last year. Bring it on Mother Nature, we can handle the heat! After all, MN did throw several snowfalls at us this year and look how well we handled them.

I love Spring as you all know. It is a time for re-birth, new beginnings, everything looks so fresh, so new. Sitting on the balcony in the warm sunshine watching the birds build their nests was a lovely way to begin the day.

The sunshine is a welcome relief from the rain and the cold. HRG has been stuck indoors and quite frankly it sucks. Big time. There are lots of projects here, a little more is accomplished each day, but the longing to go for a very long walk has me staring wistfully out the window. I need fresh air, a chance to clear my head of thoughts and useless clutter and brace myself for whatever is around the next corner. Whatever it might be. The Fates are giving no hints of what's in store. The paths are there, waiting patiently to be chosen, to feel those tentative footsteps. I stare for a long time at them, then cast my eyes to the horizon, wondering, waiting for an answer that isn't there.

The uncertainty of it all has me feeling a little blue babies. It is in my nature to withdraw, to try and figure it all out in my head before reaching out for that shoulder. It's hard for me to reach out, to let anyone closer than arm's reach. But, you know, the upside is, as I was reminded, TCB is here, so really, do I need to be looking for another shoulder? I have two feet. Using them is probably a good idea. It would all sound like whining anyway. Measuring my stuff against that of others, well, it makes me realize my issues are really insignificant.

So what to do now? Taking all the planned time off will probably not happen. Sitting still is highly over-rated and a bored HRG gets into trouble. Every time. I've come a long way in knowing myself. It's a road travelled all too often, boredom is. There's no reason to kick up the dust again. I know better now. That's why it's so important to find something to occupy my time. I had wanted the summer off, but the need to accomplish something is strong.

Hey, wait a minute. Tanning my legs IS accomplishing something.

Isn't it?

HRG

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Day 12

Is it ok to say that I am already bored bored bored? Because I am. Bored. Oh, there's lots to keep me busy here, but honestly, it's housework.

Of course all this free time has given me the chance to catch up on the news.

I wish some of it were good. But it isn't. Injustice reigns supreme. HRG has given up wearing knickers. Somehow they end up in a knot and it's so very very uncomfortable.

Let's see what's been happening, shall we? Does everyone remember the case in Saskatchewan where a very drunk man took his small children out in the dead of winter and they froze to death? He was given a sentencing circle. Bully for him. It was decided that he should do no time, but rather should spend his "sentence" in the community. Fortunately a judge thought differently and sentenced him to a whole three years. Ooooh, there's punishment for you. He argued against the jail time saying (and I quote) "sending me to jail won't do any good. It'll keep me away from my family and friends and the things I like doing". Uh, yeah. That's why it's called punishment. Moron.

Oh, now would be a good time to mention that his criminal records goes way back, with no less than 50 infractions. That and he's waiting trial for breaking the terms of his bail in the deaths of his daughters. Seems the abstaining from alcohol part was lost on him. He's in mourning doncha know?

But of course, it wasn't his fault. Someone must be pouring booze down his throat against his will and it's THEIR fault. Why accept responsibility for it? Poor baby. We should pat him on the head, coddle him and remind him every day that he's not to blame.

And two innocent little girls are forgotten. Just as they were forgotten for the eight hours they lay in the snow, while their father lay in a hospital bed, sobering up. He didn't say a word. To anyone.

In their social system these males are referred to as braves.

I prefer to think of him as a narcissistic coward.

There's nothing brave in silence. He murdered his children.

But you know babies, it's not his fault.

Because it never is.

HRG

Monday, March 02, 2009

This That and The Other Thing

Good Morning Babies!

Something's been niggling at me since Saturday, maybe one of you can help.

Am I the only one who thinks Bret Michaels looks like Britney Spears?

Maybe they have the same plastic surgeon.

I was very afraid.

I'm also too old to watch the music channel. It's irritating. VH1 and The National Post must share the same "fact checkers". To be honest, HRG did not really watch so much as stared in disbelief.

Then we went and played. It was loose, had some pretty crappy moments where things all just fell apart, but we recovered and had fun. Closed big. Everyone else got 3 songs. HRG got 6. There were some pretty kickin' good players up there with us. It's too bad these two players can't commit to a project right now, but we make a point of playing together at the jams because it's so much freakin' fun! Not only amazing players, but also very very very cute boys. One of them is the one who shares the name with my teenage heartthrob. In another life this would've been dangerous. Not now though. It's not that hard to be a grown up after all. Who knew? Anyway, we're talking up the new project, the early buzz is positive, people seem honestly excited that we're back with a 80s pop/rock chick kind of thing. I'm trying to reawaken my muse. She's there, groggy, but eyes are open and that's a start. The trick is not to force it, but to let it happen. She'll shake the cobwebs off and then look out. Don't say I didn't warn you.

The return of HRG is near.

Be afraid. Be very very afraid.

HRG