Quote for the Month of October

"I know its the desert, but I didn't expect it to be this dusty" - guy on the elevator in the building where I work. Fail.

U2

I’m ashamed that its taken me this long, but last Tuesday, October 20, 2009, we had the honor of seeing the Black Eye Peas open for the one and only U2 at Cardinal’s Stadium. Somehow we had the good fortune to get into the “inner circle” which is standing room only between the center stage and the second outer ring. Granted standing from about 5:30 until Midnight became torture on the lower back, the proximity was worth the pain. In addition to being close to both the inner and outer stages we were a little more than an arms reach away from Bono or The Edge when they would walk across the rotating, cross stage bridges. An awesome concert, on a lovely fall day in Arizona, at a stadium with a retractable roof...life is good.

The Black Eyed Peas started the night with a terrific opening act. They sounded great, were high energy, had entertaining random robot dancers, and put on an all around a good show. For many the highlight of the performance may have been Fergie’s gorgeous gams, and who could blame them. I haven’t changed teams or anything but they are damn near perfect if I don’t say so myself!

After a short break to clear out some equipment and the prepping of many a guitar and drum set, Billy Idol’s Major Tom, swooned across the massive speakers. The crowed went wild. I really can’t sum up the concert any other way than it was AWESOME, perhaps even cathartic. U2 put on an amazing show. They had a bit of mic feedback trouble for the first few songs, but despite the equipment hickup, Bono’s voice was beyond perfect, The Edge’s guitar playing was out of this world, Adam Clayton (Bass Guitar) was terrific and the one who started the band, Larry Mullen, Jr., was excellent on the drums.

The set list was as follows: Breathe, Get On Your Boots, Magnificent, Mysterious Ways, Beautiful Day, I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For - Stand By Me, Stuck In A Moment, No Line On The Horizon, Elevation, In A Little While, Unknown Caller, Until the End of the World, The Unforgettable Fire, City of Blinding Lights, Vertigo - It's Only Rock and Roll, I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight (remix), Sunday Bloody Sunday, MLK, Walk On - You'll Never Walk Alone
Encore(1): One, Amazing Grace, Where the Streets Have No Name
Encore (2): Ultraviolet, With or Without You, Moment of Surrender

I have to admit, I’ve never been much of a U2 follower, in fact I hadn’t even heard their new album before the concert, but this concert has changed my ways. For all those who ever get a chance to see U2, don’t pass it up. The set was exceptional, the music was fantastic and the performance was, possibly best described in language of the Garden State, Fan-f**king-tastic!

Trip to the South Rim

With an anticipated departure time of 7 AM, a single bathroom apartment with 5 occupants is no pleasure cruise. The giddy energy of three out of towners helped to lessen the pain of a 5:50 wake up time, however this sugar-high-esque energy would eventually lead to a cranky crash in a few short hours. Perhaps not all felt this way, but I know myself better, it was inevitable. Promptly at 7 AM we piled in our rented X-terra, aptly name "X" and headed up the road. With a quick stop at Montezuma's castle and only one gas stop in Flagstaff we arrived at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon a little before noon.

Our first stop included absolutely breathtaking views and a reminder of just how extensive the entire canyon is. We could see millions of years of canyon creation in just one small panoramic view and our view was just one tiny, tiny portion of the massive canyon. After some of the many foreign tourists cleared out we tool a few obligatory tourist photos, enjoyed a quick lunch and made a brief tour of the visitor’s center where we decided on a three mile hike that was suggested for visitors with only a few hours to spend in the canyon.

The Cedar Ridge hike was a great choice. I'm not one for heights but there was something about the grandeur of the canyon that took away my fear. The weather was gorgeous, the trail was un-crowded, and the haze was relatively low, basically we couldn't have asked for a better day to hike. On the way down Brian was a bit timid about the thin trail and the shear drop-offs, but he successfully conquered the fear, made the entire trip down, and sped like a bullet on the way back up. Round trip was a 1000 ft descend/climb that included many a photo pause and took a little under two hours to complete.

Following the hike some of the group went to confess their sins while the rest of us sinners stopped by one of the lodge areas for a quick libation. During our hour wait we saw some goats, a couple of javelinas and a nice little sunset over the canyon. I found it a lovely finish to the visit.

Our trip out of the park included a mean combination of low blood sugar, pitch black driving conditions and constant “watch for deer” signs. Why I didn’t pack the Xanax was beyond me. About 45 minutes out of the park, to prevent becoming another Donner party, we stopped at the Cameron Trading Post. The restaurant was the only dinning location within a two hour radius and its heaping portions were a pleasure on the eye and the belly.

Like over watered cacti we loaded back into the car and finally arrived in Page around 10:30. Apologies to those that had to witness a Caetano with low blood sugar. It can be a very scary site and risks the safety of all, and should be avoided at all costs.

Weak Cookie

Part of the joy of the sweetened cardboard commonly refereed to as a fortune cookie is the fortune of course, so imagine my disappointment at this jewel: "The first man gets the oyster, the second man gets the shell." This pathetic fortune officially makes the cookie's empty calories that much more wasteful. I would have preferred some broken English to this sad excuse for a fortune.

Reality Markers

How is it that the holes in a belt can have a direct impact on one's happiness and self definition? Realistically what are they, like a half inch apart? More like a mile. The joy of cinching that belt tighter, making it to that last little hole is a joy too extreme to be expressed, whereas, just as dramatically, the realization that you have to move backwards, a massive half inch back into the shameful previous hole, well, its down right tragic. Its can be the difference between a good start to a day or the aspiration of not eating breakfast, which is rarely never accomplished.

Today, however, has presented a new conundrum. This morning I put on my belt and glared at that final hole. Perhaps with a few dirty looks I could scare it into being accessible. Turns out, the gods were kind. Nice. As the morning went on I realized I had celebrated preemptively. A novice mistake.

Sure my belt seemed to be holding up my pants while I stood upright, but with time, and while seated, I noticed my belt was starting to lose a major battle, the victor of which happened to be my spare tire. Due to the belt setting I was no long able to hike my pants to comfortably smush in the offending excess. Lets just call it an off kilter muffin top. Sides are fine, its that pesky front angle that’s killing me. Sure if I sit perfectly upright with the best posture I can muster it rescinds ever so slightly, but the uncomfortable cutting into my belly remains. Keep in mind the muffin top does not rear its ugly head while standing, so I suppose its not as bad as it could be.
Unfortunately, to avoid spare tire bruising I've relinquished the small and apparently false victory and moved back to the previous belt hole. Yeah, its my own fault, but I'd prefer to keep some blame on the belt. Lets just call it a motivational factor to put down the cookie... ok maybe to put down the third cookie. (its healthy to be realistic)

Celebrate!

My hubby just passed the bar!! Hip hip hooray!!

Oktoberfest - Tempe style

Traveling on Phoenix's glorious light rail train it took us about 15 minutes to arrive at Tempe's version of Oktoberfest. I'm not much of a beer drinker, but "beers of the world" sounded like it might have some potential. Well, it turns out that "beers of the world" really only pertained to beers of the Budweiser world. I'm pretty sure the only non-Bud, remotely world beer, was Red Stripe, a Jamaican lager.

We started off our consumption with a pleasantly disgruntle server who gave us both souvenir cups and beers for the price of one beer without the souvenir cup (14 ticket purchase for only 5 tickets, sweet!) In true carnival style we also enjoyed funnel cake, a soft pretzel, cheesy curly fries and of course, a braut with sourkraut. Delicious. Sure it probably required an iron-man's worth of exercise to even come close to burning that many calories, but hell, ya gotta live your life.

In addition to tasty eats, the fiesta included carnival games and rides, two stages with constant live entertainment and a polka stage, that unfortunately we never saw come to life. These types of events always provide such great people watching opportunities, for better of for worse. As the evening went on I noticed we were far outnumbered by "jorts" (jean shorts). A few times, I even felt as if my simple jean skirt was getting the hairy eye from various jort wearers. Perhaps I haven't been paying enough attention to fashion lately but I would like to hope that the jean skirt still, even if only marginally, trumps the jort.

Another surprising sight was the number of couples, noticeably younger than us, with one if not two kids. I think its great when people take their kids out to various social/cultural events, but perhaps when you take your children to these events you shouldn't both get trashed. Or, just maybe, you should consider their tiny, delicate ear drums when you sit front row of live performance that are far too loud for adult ear drums. Lets get a little responsibility here people and for one second think about the little person you thoughtlessly put in this situation.

Overall our Oktoberfest was a pretty fun experience, and we will surely return again next year. Danke schoen Budweiser for your hosting of Oktoberfest Tempe 2009.

Sweater weather

Yesterday morning was a gorgeous morning. By 8 am the temperature was in the low 80's and sunny, perfect weather for enjoying an open sunroof and rolled down windows on my way to work, right? About a block down the road the windows were on their way up. Somewhere, somehow, after dealing with 115 degree days my skin had apparently thinned to the point that 80 degrees felt a little cool. Pathetic. I knew I would acclimate to the weather here, and eventually come to call 65 scarf weather, but honestly, a chill at 80, that’s just sad.

Ten months ago we took a trip from VA to AZ to confirm that we wanted to make an eventual move to the desert. I remember stepping out of the plane and wishing it was appropriate to stop in the middle of the jetway to get my shoes off and slide my flip flops on, but considering the potential for residual air-rage I made it past the initial boarding zone to make the swap like an appropriate passenger. The 50 degree temperature difference between the Old Dominion and The Valley was heavenly. We toured the Phoenix area donning shorts and flip flops while locals wore their sweatshirts and jeans. Yeah, sure eventually that would be us, bundled up against the icy cold of 60 degrees, but not for a good while.

Adding insult to injury was when I fessed up to my mom that I felt a shiver at 80 and she informed me that she woke up to a morning temperature of 28 degrees. After a much deserved laugh she was kind enough to mention that perhaps this is a true sign that I belong in the desert. Yes, perhaps.

Last weekend I chuckled to myself as I ran by the person in their long-sleeve shirt when it was about 82 out… maybe I shouldn't have chuckled so soon.