Kids, all the world is a stage, so share it with me and let us chat about anything on our minds. It's just between US. INDISCREETLY, of course-I refuse to keep it under my hat!
Thursday blogging with, Crookshanks at the keyboard!
Did you see the ABC story about some restaurants and some beaches creating kid-free zones? Yeah, I didn't either, but I read about it later and it gave me pause.
Initially, I was quite pro. QUITE!
Oh, don't get yourselves into a lather and turn against me as some sort of kid-hater. I adore kids. Adore 'em.
However, my first impulse was to embrace this trend and hope it would catch on in a big way and soon.
I fully admit the thought of dining in luxurious peace and quiet at a restaurant, any restaurant whether high-end or low-end, at any time of the day or night, made me giddy and smile inside. It seems to almost never happen these days.
Honestly, last week while sharing lunch in West Palm Beach with my mates, I had to shout to be heard over the chaos of children four tables away. It was absurd, but not uncommon.
Hm. A kid-free zone?
Turning that thought over and over in my head, suddenly it began to spin into an entirely different model. Why single out the kids when they are only doing what comes naturally to them? Being rowdy kids without any obvious parental guidelines or control. Oh, I'm not judging too harshly, maybe the kids have issues and can not be encouraged to behave in a socially acceptable manner at eleven o'clock at night in the bar area of a trendy restaurant. And, why should they? Who does? What are their examples of acceptable behavior? I'm just asking because I'm not sure it exists. I understand that children in 2011 do not need the structure of a specific bedtime. Oh, yes.
However, the idea of dining in an adult atmosphere is just dreamy. That's all, a dream, because it is borderline impossible. Oh, I get that parents have a need to share time with kiddies. I've been there, so don't tell me about that, but a comprise needs to be reached.
I respectfully suggest we start a campaign for a Yin-and-Yang-Zone.
Because, what we truly need is an Obnoxious-Free zone. Let's all just agree to have a lovely balance and co-exist in harmony. Let's have a bit of respect for each other. Think hard and the Golden Rule could be conjured up.
The picture is SO much larger than freeing us from zany kids. Well, in my opinion we need freedom from many annoyances. Petty, yet large.
So, free us from the dining horrors of unruly children, but more importantly free us from their obnoxious and disengaged parental-units (meaning they are so much otherwise engaged they seemingly ignore their kids).
Free us from loud-cell-phone-talkers.
Free us from those who invade our space and ears on any type of transit...planes, trains, buses, bikes.
Free us from those who walk four-abreast on a crowded sidewalk and refuse to yield, even an inch.
Free us from the horrors of a world gone mad with a lack of socially-acceptable anything.
Free us from those who get into our space while standing in line at a check-out counter.
Free me from a cat who tries to write a blog with me (just go with it).
Well, you get where I am going here.
Kids, it isn't about real kids. It's about so much more.
Gotta go get a Yin-and-Yang sign made to wear around my neck when I go out or when I am creating a blog (the cat needs a little balance). Listen, the movement has got to start somewhere, right?
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, available at Barnes & Noble, eBooks.
We are nearing the last night (work with me) in July and lo-and-behold, Brian and Mo over there in the UK have given us the Last Night of the Proms to mull over. You heard me...Proms. No, not PRAWNS or High School PROM...Proms.
Wanna know more?
You gotta read on.
Oh, one little thing-I know my readers (short attention span us all) and I know we all love, Rule Britannia, but just in case you need to know the lyrics I have provided a special video for ya.
You can't have it both ways, you can have the video with words, or the video with the singer, well, singing the lyrics.
AND, just because I also know we are all especially low-brow 'round here, I've given you a little sumpin'-sumpn' with, Donna Summer crooning over a last dance. You know the one, but go ahead and listen anyway.
Okay, I'm exhausted from trying to 'splain...read Brian...he RULES. Or, dance with Donna. It's up to you!
Contributed by: Brian Wilson United Kingdom All rights reserved and copyrighted.
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“If music be the food of love – play on”. The Promenade Concerts are here again – Yippee
Music is our lifeblood – is it yours?
This 8 week season (started in 1895) includes over 100 concerts and other events; mainly in The Royal Albert Hall - not forgetting Proms in the Park across the United Kingdom on the Last Night. The Proms are truly "the world's largest and most democratic musical festival"
Prom is short for promenade concert. Promming refers to the use of the standing areas in the Royal Albert Hall (the arena and gallery) for which ticket prices are much lower than for the reserved seating (at £5 or $7 a ticket!) Seats are often sold out (as is the case for Verdi Requiem this year) So a “top tip” if you’ve just arrived in London and want a ticket for a sold out concert, then you can join the long queues for the Promenade tickets– and you will meet people from all over the world waiting in the queue (us Brits do like to queue!) Mo and I used to go “promming” in the 60’s and 70’s (but we had yet to meet up!) - standing outside for hours waiting to get that ticket that would allow you into this wonderful world of music.
Perhaps the most well known part of the Proms is the Last Night, when the series come to an end and where us Brits really let our hair down. I know that many non-Brits find it hard to understand what it is all about – so let me try.
The Last Night of the Proms celebrates British tradition and our love of music, plus a good serving of patriotism. This year the first half encompasses serious music by Sir Peter Maxwell Davies (World Premiere) - Bartók - Wagner Götterdämmerung - Liszt Piano Concerto No. 1 - but then the party starts as tradition and British eccentricity takes over. This year the Last Night party will include music from many countries – Chopin: Grande Polonaise – Grainger: (My Dark-Haired Maiden) – Britten: The Young Person's Guide to the Orchestra – Rodgers: The Sound of Music - 'Climb ev'ry mountain' and from Carousel - 'You'll never walk alone.'
Then we move into the music that means so much to us Brits – Elgar: Pomp and Circumstance March No. 1 ('Land of Hope and Glory') – Arne: Rule Britannia – and finally Parry: Jerusalem (orch. Elgar) (4 mins).
In my time I have been to so many Last Nights and met people from all over the world – but many misunderstand us Brits. In Land of Hope and Glory we sing of us Brits living in “the land of the free” – it is rather jingoistic.
Rule Britannia celebrates our past mastery of the sea – jingoism again. When we come to “Jerusalem”, well we seem to be going over the top. We sing of “England’s green and pleasant land” - but wait the words were written by Blake and he was railing against the beginning of the industrial revolution. So, in fact us Brits are singing what was a revolutionary tract – I think that only Brits could carry this off.
But we are not jingoistic, we do not think we should rule the world (as we did years ago), but we are proud of what we were and what we are – is that so bad?
If I have got you interested and you are in London and you want a ticket – you’ve got a problem.
Last night Tickets are highly sought after.
To buy a seat in advance, it is necessary to have bought tickets for at least five other Proms in the season to have a chance of getting a Last Night ticket (this is decided by ballot – truly a British way of doing things).
How much is a ticket – if you are promming then you can stand and listen to the world’s best series of concerts for £5/night (yes only $7). If you buy a promming season ticket the average cost falls to a meager £3 (that’s $5) per concert.
Where in the world could you get into a concert for such a low price to hear world class performers sat their peak?
Prommers with tickets queue up for each concert - but for the last night many queue overnight, others sleep outside the hall for up to three weeks to guard their place in the queue to ensure a good place to stand in the hall. I have done this and it is great fun – well it was when I was much younger!
The resulting camaraderie adds to the atmosphere. Fancy Dress is optional – from dinner jackets to patriotic T-shirts. Many use the occasion for an exuberant display of Britishness. Union Flags are carried and waved by the Prommers (as well as flags of all countries) , especially during Rule Britannia.
Another tradition of the Last Night is that near the end, the conductor makes a speech thanking the musicians and audiences, mentioning the main themes covered through the season, noting the cumulative season's donations collected by the Promenaders' Musical Charities raised over the season, and announcing the date of the First Night of the Proms for the next season. This can be an ordeal for some conductors, who can expect some friendly “Comments” from the Prommers.
The Royal Albert Hall could be filled many times over with people wishing to attend the Last Night. To accommodate these people, and to cater for those who are not near London, the Proms in the Park concerts were started in 1996 – with big screen.
For 2011 the venues will be – Hyde Park (London) – Caerphilly Castle (Wales) – Bangor (Northern Ireland) – and Dundee (Scotland).
Each location has its own live concert, typically playing the countries' respective national anthems, before joining in a live big screen video link up with the Royal Albert Hall for the traditional finale.
Now, through the marvel that is the Internet you can see the Last Night – and many other Proms on the BBC web site.
Go on, join in the party – listen to the superb music – be amazed at how “daft” us Brits can be – listen to the Last Night.
Mo and I will be watching it all on TV – so we will be raising a glass to you all over the pond – will anyone be doing the same over there?
Love to you all – Brian and Mo
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See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks.
Board games. Remember them? Really? When was the last time YOU played an old-fashioned board game?
While playing a rousing game of Yahtzee with my companions the other evening, we discussed board games and how super fun they can be and how they have seemingly gone the way of the Pet Rock. Remember that idiotic fad? Yeah, I do.
Now, I find no shame in admitting to a few guilty computer game pleasures such as, Gardens of Time. Have you tried any of them? Will you admit it if you have?
Even though I click and zip finding the hidden objects in GOT (you see how I am a hot-shot, level 36 in Gardens of Time), the real-deal board game can not be replaced. You sit around a table, drinks and snacks nearby and fuss and fume with your companions over who is cheating and such. I mean you must accuse someone of cheating or it isn't a full-fledged, down-n-dirty board game.
You know, there is simply nothing like the sound those silly dice make when they are shaken around inside the Yahtzee cup. Brings back memories of playing this game with my Mother. We only did the top half of the score card-we could not be bothered with all that Full House, Small Straight, Large Straight business. Nah, we kept it simple and fun. It still is fun and around here we DO the ENTIRE score board. How 'bout them apples?
Let me know if you've cracked one open lately. A board game that is.
## Kids, this sign outside a Bank of America caught my eye. Those bean-counters are constantly thinking of ways to keep the green-in-their-green and they need our help. Green is green-inside and outside in these parts.
This time they aren't warning off your pping dog. Nope, this is pointed directly at YOU and your personal dogs. The ones with toes (some with polished nails), attached to your unshaven (I'm assuming here) legs. Keep 'em off their lovely grass or they will deduct an interest point from your already low-paying money market account.
Oh, I'm sure somewhere nearby is another sign with a bright yellow smiley-face that says, "Have a great day."
Yeah, you too, BofA!
See ya 'round the beaches-real of virtual. Read me, fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks!
Perhaps it is just me, but I struggle with warehouse shopping. Actually, I think it is definitely me. It seems the entire universe spends endless hours stuffing empty carts with loads of great deals at places such as Costco. Personally, never embraced that sort of shopping. For one thing, they have no style, inside or outside. Now, if they would take a page from the real warehouses of yesteryear, like the one pictured, I would be more inclined to step inside on a regular basis. Isn't it really all about the ambiance? You bet ya!!
Having a small family; quite small, could be part of the reason I go into some sort of catatonic state the hand full of times I have entered that zany, Sam's Club. It is overwhelming and I have never felt the need to buy twenty-five cans of green beans in one fell-swoop. Of course, being borderline, Anti-Walmart could be part of the reason my eyes glaze over and my legs and feet become clay once inside that place, but only part.
Now, yesterday the rain in the Palm Beaches caused me to do the strangest thing. Without hesitation, I slid the heap into a parking slot at Costco, zipped inside (my first time to step sandal inside one), waited in a short line and, BAM, got a membership. I even opted for the ridiculous hundred dollar card because she promised some return on your purchases (I glazed over, but got it anyway). Oh, got a card for Gaz while I was at it and he's even worse than I am about these stores. No matter, I was on some sort of exotic warehouse store dream-cloud.
After having my photo taken (what a photo it turned out to be, having been rained on prior to entering the store), I turned from the counter, clutching my card, in wonder. What next? I didn't really know the ropes of the place, so I wandered aimlessly in the wrong direction, looped back in the correct pathway to the carts. They have some sort of attendant standing by them and that was impressive. I liked that touch of special attention, a lot. He seemed oblivious to me, but I let that slide. I noticed they also had an attendant in the departure area, just to make sure you had a great Costco experience, huh? Wow, now that's just Customer Service nipping at the heels of those kids over at Nordstrom!
Once I had the cart in hand, what to do next? I needed absolutely nothing, but I didn't let that stop my progress. I was on a warehouse store mission. Cruising past people who were heavily engrossed in perusing the virtues of such things as pool shock, I was determined to find something worthy of my new card.
Guess what appeared, right at an aisle end cap? Palm trees. Tall ones for $13.99. After spilling dirt on their pristine concrete flooring, I wrangled them into my cart and was off to find the checkout place. Of course, I couldn't see a thing in front of me, but who cares about that when you have a deal on your hands?
After making circles to nowhere for fifteen minutes (I passed the same box of Cheerios no less than five times), I rolled my treasures into the newly discovered checkout lane area and offered up my newly minted card and my dog-eared, Visa. Guess what happened next? You'll never guess (yes, you will as I am the last person on earth to get one of these dumb cards), so I will tell ya. She slapped it right back into my hand with vigor. No can do. Only can do, AmEx, and checks and (who still uses those things?). Yes, I could have used my debit card, but happily and undaunted, I presented her with my even more dog-eared, American Express and all was well. Without a la-de-da of dismissal to me, she moved her wand to the next sap in line and all I had to do was say, ta-ta to the exit guy and then shove my ten-feet -tall trees into my car. As a black-belt shopper I managed that in a flash.
Will I continue to shop at Costco or was it temporary-insanity? I have no idea, but things would be so much easier and pleasant for people if they would install a few catenary cables. You know? Zip around and over the goods, drop down when you see something. Easier, plus they could have a cable-attendant!
Gotta go and send that suggestion to Costco.
Stay with me.
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Read me, fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks.
When I saw these flameless candles at Home Goods last week, it gave me pause.
Yes, I understand there is a clear need for this sort of LED-laced shenanigans. Perfect for weddings; blah, blah, blah.
Still, in this age of fake EVERYTHING, can't we simply leave candles alone to wax on with a real wick?
People,PLEASE!
If the real deal is not appropriate or some sort of ridiculous danger...use a lighted something-or-other or NOTHING at all. Real candles are sacred.
Don't think so? Well, picture this-William S. is sitting, quill grasped in his ink-stained fingers, gazing out some romantic window conjuring up a soliloquy for MacSomeone and the profound significance of-FLAMELESS candles.
It is just wrong. Wrong, and with apologies to the main, Bard of Avon...
Macbeth's famous soliloquy: "Out, out, brief (FLAMELESS) candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."
A dark and brooding soliloquy isn't a soliloquy without a real wick-laced candle with a real flaming-flame, otherwise it signifys nothing!
Now, wrap your quill around some wax and light the flame of a real candle.
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Read me fictionally, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks!
July is roaring on and South Florida is hot and crazy gorgeous under the blazing cool of the full moon. Yes, blazing...I like the sound of it, so just go with it!
The thing to do at this juncture of the summer is to cool your sizzle with a moonlight swim. Getting your swim on under the totally covered and breezy lanai is fab. I know, technically, a lanai has an open side, but let's don't split coconuts here, okay? Just think...bugs and you get the picture.
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Kids, I admit I have never sold anything on EBay. I'm just not that sort. I don't relish selling my junk and I loathe the whole idea of garage sales. For the measly bucks (okay, more than measly) you get and the major headache and aggravation, I would rather just take the tax break and donate my jazz to various charities.
I'm not judging if you get your groove on by slapping price stickers on your old dishes and shoes. I get that some think it's a fun project. So, if you do-sell it, baby! Bravo and everything.
Having blathered on about how I am no fan of selling my trinkets, I did run across my Cavalier's, LV puppy collar the other day and as I have the entire kit-'n-caboodle (have no idea exactly what that expression really means), the idea of popping it out there for sale suddenly seemed attractive.
Come ON, it's a numbered collar and those babies don't grow on dog-collar-trees!!
Did a little look-see on the big E and saw one (not nearly as divine as ours) with bidding in the hundreds. I am not going to say what I paid for this thing at the Louis V retail store, but it WAS retail. Listen, Gaz could be reading this thing and he doesn't need to know every dumb purchase I make (like he doesn't). Oh,we won't even mention the Louis V dog carrier I bought her that is unused and now contains hurricane emergency supplies)!
Well, I'm debating the entire shebang of hawking something out there in cyber-market. Seems a bit like a virtual garage sale...without those dumb little price stickers. Perhaps I will donate it...there could a sweet dog out there just waiting for a stylish collar.
See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual. Read my fictional book, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, Barnes & Noble, eBooks
Here we are...sitting on the cusp of our big July 4th, celebration, and watching William and his Duchess strut their stuff honoring Canada Day, but first I want to share thoughts from British-Brian on all things-Wimbledon. Groan, I totally agree with him. How 'bout you?
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Contributed by, Brian Wilson Bath UK Copyrighted
Read the blog about Wimbledon, but it just highlighted one of my main grumbles.
Are you, like me, totally sick of the loud grunting sounds we have to put up with on tennis courts?
For some years we have have had to put up with an ever increasing assault on our ears - and (I hope I am not being sexist) it is the ladies who are mostly at fault.
So now, at Wimbledon Ian Ritchie, the chief executive of the All England Lawn and Tennis Club, has lambasted female tennis players for grunting, claiming that it spoils the game and annoys spectators.
The Belarusian, Victoria Azarenka, managed to screech out at an astounding 95 decibels on the first day of the tournament and she let out a shriek that lasted 1.5 seconds.
Maria Sharapova unleashed a record 105-decibel grunt in 2009 - and she still does it today.
This grunting and howling now seems to be part of today's game - but why oh why do the tournament organisers not say "once more and I will give the point to your opponent!!" - that would soon stop them.
Mo and I play croquet at a tennis club and we can hear today's teenage players trying out their grunting skills - and I really hate it. It is for that reason that I do not watch ladies tennis on the TV. If you do not believe me then listen (if you can) to this clip from You tube (Ex Fox news).
Now, I may seem like a typical boring old fxxt - but do you like all this noise?
What do your readers think?
If no-one likes it, let's start a campaign to eradicate this assault on our ears before it becomes the standard for all players of all ages.
Love to all in the Beaches - Brian and Mo
Brian Wilson brian@europaassociates.co.uk
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See ya 'round the beaches-real or virtual! Friend us on Facebook, Indiscreetly Us Catch my fiction, The Bainbridges of the Palm Beaches, @Barnes & Noble, eBooks.
