Once Upon a Time...

Somewhere inside every little girl lives the same dream. It begins with a white fluffy dress, sparkly tiara, and a bouquet tied with ribbon. It usually ends with a princess-for-a-day marrying her prince-for-a-lifetime and riding away on a horse drawn carriage to her Happily Ever After. It’s magical and mystical; it’s the stuff of daydreams for a little girl and checkbook nightmares for her parents.

Today, we came as close as we’ll probably ever get to witnessing a real life fairy tale, the royal wedding of Kate Middleton to Prince William. The bride, dressed in an elegant ivory and white gown with a two foot train and flowing veil, was simply beautiful. All smiles, she and her father arrived at Westminster Abbey in a Rolls Royce. Carrying a small bouquet of flowers, she gracefully took the three minute walk down a red carpeted aisle in front of a congregation of 1900 that included the Queen of England, the Sultan of Brunei, and Sir Elton John, not to mention a million people filling the streets of London, and countless onlookers watching around the world. The happy couple left the ceremony in a horse-drawn carriage and their first kiss, on the balcony of majestic Buckingham Palace, was followed by a fly-over of vintage planes from the Royal Air Force. If a wedding comes closer to achieving fairy tale status, please let me know how. No detail neglected and I’m sure no expense spared, this wedding was breath-taking, awe-inspiring, and simply amazing.

There were, however, some things I noticed about the wedding festivities that perplexed me a little.

1.       William. It occurred to me this morning that while I don’t know his last name, I do now know that he has three middle names. William Arthur Phillip Louie Something. That’s a lot of names for one man, and that doesn’t even get into his title. Which brings me to…

2.       The royal titles. William is a Prince and I see in the news that Kate is now Princess William of Wales BUT they’ll be known as the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge instead. I don’t understand how those titles work. Which is better- a Princess or a Duchess? A Prince or a Duke? And, why hasn’t anyone just said that she’ll be Mrs. William Whoever? I mean, really, how many titles does one girl need? Did she get to pick or are they assigned? The only thing more abundant than the titles around here are my questions about the titles around here.

3.       The hats. Were hats pre-requisites to admittance into the ceremony? I’ve been to Westminster Abbey and I know I didn’t wear a hat but I think I only saw one uncovered noggin in the whole congregation today. Some of them were cute but the vast majority of them were too wide, too tall, or too gaudy. It was like an episode of a bad TV show- Bonnets Gone Wild.

With the exception of the hats, the wedding was a flawless piece of romantic perfection, a storybook fairy tale for a girl who was forever transformed into a Princess. I wish the happy couple all the best and I hope their marriage is as awe-inspiring and magical as the wedding.

I hope your day held the hope of a Happily Ever After, that a wish came true or a dream was realized. I hope you had a little romance, a little magic, and a little… Something More.

The Best Laid Plans...

Is it just me or has this blog suddenly turned into high noon in the dessert? I mean, really, I think I just saw a tumbleweed blow by. I know you’re wondering where I've been and what in the world has happened; believe me, I’ve been wondering the exact same things- great minds think alike, you know!

I’d love to say that I’ve spent the last two weeks on a tropical island sipping fruity drinks out of frosty glasses. I’d like to tell you that I channeled my inner Pippy Longstocking and ran away with the circus. Sadly, I can’t do either of those.

The truth of the matter is that I have been crazy busy with work. Work seriously gets in the way of my fun but I can’t say there’s ever a dull moment.

Every three years, the national assessment team comes in for several days to verify we’re doing what we’re supposed to be doing. A huge part of my job is to prepare a mountain of information for this visit and coordinate everything while the team is here, answer their questions, keep them happy, etc. etc. I spent months preparing. I was ready. Typical, expected stuff? Check. Bells? Check. Whistles? Check. I was so prepared, I went to a concert the night before without a care in the world. That’ll teach me…

Saturday, April 16, started out perfectly. I was up and at the office early, excited and anxiously awaiting the arrival of the team. Then the phone rang. Uh, oh. A cancelled, rebooked, delayed, and rerouted flight postponed the team’s arrival by about seven hours. OK, no problem. I’ll revise the schedule. So on to Plan B we went.

And then an F-3 tornado blew through downtown a few blocks from my office, knocking out power, internet, and everything connected to the IT network. Unable to get to any electronic information or documentation the team might need, I was teetering between “panic” and “pretend you’re a professional”. Plan C, where are you?

And, most of the roads were blocked by downed trees and power lines so there was a moment in time over the weekend when I was rerouted into the unsavory area of downtown where I had to stop and ask what I can only assume was an “entrepreneurial pharmaceutical salesman” for directions around the closed roads. He kindly offered to “hook a girl up”. Maybe I should have asked him if he had a Plan D in his pocket?

And, in dealing with the aftermath of the storms, about 70% of my coworkers (many of whom were scheduled to have some sort of interaction with the assessment team) found themselves deployed to devastated areas. I think by this point, I was on Plan G or H maybe. I wish it were but flying by the seat of my pants isn’t really my forte so by the time the team left on Tuesday, the 19^th, I was just hoping the Plan was still in the first half of the alphabet.

Since they left, I’ve been trying to work a Plan that includes a nap but it should come as no surprise that that hasn’t happened yet either. I’ve heard it said that a bad plan is better than no plan… I’d really just like a plan that comes together.

The Magic Number

Someone asked me this past week, “How many Bill Gentry concerts are you going to??? Have you turned into a groupie?” I can tell you that I don’t know what that number will be… but I know what that number will NOT be. 4. The magical answer is unequivocally, resoundingly, emphatically NOT 4. It may be 44 or 444 but it is definitely not just tiny little old 4.

Last night was my fourth Bill Gentry show and I walked out of the venue as excited about him as ever, maybe even more so. He was as genuinely friendly, humble, and fantastic as the night in February when I met him the first time. We like his attitude, his demeanor, his music, and the friendships we’ve formed because of him so much that before the show even started last night, we were making plans for a June road trip to see Bill and the band again. You may call that being a groupie; we call it being fans (and maybe on some level, friends) with a great group of guys who work hard at playing hard. We know enough to know that if you find a good thing and a great group of friends to share it with, you hold onto it. Bill & BMF, in case you didn’t know by now, we’ve got you by both hands!

In true BG style, last night’s concert was a foot-stompin, fist-bumpin, butt-kickin’ good time. Bill Gentry literally lives the lyric from one of his signature tunes, I Want What You Want, happily giving it to you “if you want your country revved up with wild guitar licks”. Jaime and I are debating if it’s “wild guitar licks” or “loud guitar licks” but we’ve decided it really doesn’t matter; we love the song either way.



A little country...



A little rock & roll!

As much as I love the music, I also love that there always seem to be some funny fluke things happening at Bill’s concerts. Never a dull moment, it seems that wardrobe malfunctions are becoming a requisite part of the good time. In Lynchburg, Bill split his pants (not that we were complaining). In Charlotte, Chris lost his shirt (again, no complaints here). In Raleigh, Steve forgot his boots (complaints mysteriously absent there too). I wonder what will happen in Winston tonight… I wonder more why I’m working tonight instead of going to the show. Oh yeah, house payment, that would be why.

No shoes? No problem.

It's also been discussed and determined by our group that Bill Gentry must have the sexiest knees on the planet. Strange, I know, but it seems like everywhere we go, there’s at least one woman who wants to grab the poor man’s kneecaps. Although we maneuver into front row spots for lots of reasons, Jaime likes to say we're there to give Bill a “safety bubble”, a little space on the stage in front of a little section of fans he knows won’t grope his knees (or any other part of him). We hoot and holler, we scream and sing at the top of our lungs like we’re the next American Idols; we hug and we fist-bump; we love & adore, but grope? Nope.

Although I’m very disappointed I couldn’t be in Winston with the Gentry Nation tonight, I already have at least two more concerts in permanent ink on my calendar and I am anxiously awaiting news for the album’s release date. I hope Bill’s planning to include tiny little fire extinguishers with the CD because “Wild Bill’s gonna burn it down, nice and slow” (Wild Bill’s Rock & Roll Revival) and when he does, you’re going to want to be around for the fireworks.

If you’ve not taken my hints yet, let me just make it crystal clear. It’s BEYOND time for you to consider becoming a member of the Gentry Nation. I believe the Gentry Nation can be summed up quite well by this billboard slogan I saw not too long ago: “There ain’t no place like this place anywhere near this place so this must be THE place!” In the Gentry Nation, you can come as you are and stay as long as you’d like. The music’s loud and the lyrics are easy. The beer is ice cold, the women are red hot, and there’s always someone to take you home.

See you at the next show!

Welcome to the Jungle

While I love having my own place, there are just certain chores that come with home ownership that I don’t enjoy. Hands down, no doubt about it, the chore perpetually in the top spot on the “I detest” list is mowing the grass. I wish I were one of those green-thumbed gals who loves getting dirt under her fingernails and mulch in her ponytail. I envy those people who have grass so green that it gets mistaken for carpet. I long to be one of those people who can resurrect what appears to be a dead plant back to the land of the flourishing. I, sadly, struggle keeping Eliot (the houseplant in my kitchen) happy and I often consider shutting my eyes driving into my driveway just so I don’t have to look at the scraggly, weedy, less-than-beautiful lawn.

About two weeks ago, it was time to begin the dreaded cycle of mow-complain-mow-complain at my house. I drug out the push mower and wondered for the millionth time why I don’t just hire someone to mow this grass. But since I try not to pawn things off on others just because I can, I thanked heaven that my yard isn’t one micro-acre larger than it is and I steeled myself to just plow through it. I checked the oil and filled up the gas tank. I primed it (I think that’s what you call it when you push the bubble thing on the side of the gas tank), pushed the choke bar and pulled the crank. Nothing. Argh. I tried again. Nothing. *&^%.

And this went on for quite a bit of time, enough time for me to go from annoyed to frustrated to nearly in tears. But being one who will not let the mower get the better of me, I did what I do. Let’s all say it together: I called Dad. But I forgot that Dad was out of town so I talked to Mom whose advice was, and I quote, “Put the mower in the sun and let it warm up a bit.” Oh, bless your heart. I love you, Mom, but please don’t let Dad go out of town. EVER. But, in her defense, the mower happened to be in the sun when I went in the house for a minute to regroup and when I came back, Viola! It cranked like a dream. So maybe there was something to her idea after all.

Today marked the second mowing of the season and basically, it confirmed how much I detest this chore. It served as nothing more than a new way to stir up some pollen and further clog my already stuffy state of being. The only thing that propelled me to propel the mower was the fact that in a few hours, I’ll be at the Bill Gentry concert. If it were an analogy from English class, it would look like this: Broccoli is to Ice Cream as Mowing the Yard is to Bill Gentry. You have to get through one to get to the other J

I usually try to find the bright side, the platinum lining in the grey clouds. Mowing the yard is my one exception to this rule. I find myself humming along to Guns & Roses’ Welcome to the Jungle as I’m making the marathon march around my little square of yard but I’m pretty sure Axl wasn’t thinking of my yard with the follow-up line, “We’ve got fun and games”. If mowing is anything, fun and games, it ain’t!

But, for this week, the daunting and unpleasant task is marked off the list so I’m off to clean the house and to get myself ready for a night out with Bill and the band. I hope that your Friday has been fantastic and that you make quick work of your weekend chores so that you can move on to something fun, something exciting… Something More!

Pull Up a Chair At… McKoy’s Smokehouse & Saloon

It doesn’t take long to figure out that to keep up with a concert moving at the speed of Bill Gentry’s blur, party people must prepare. We must get ready, gear up, and EAT! Oh, OK, if you insist.

Patsy and Blane recently heard Christian Kane mention that McKoy’s Smokehouse & Saloon had the “best bbq in the world” and that was more than enough of a recommendation for us. The Fab Foursome (Patsy, Blane, Jaime, & I) headed to McKoy’s on our way to the concert.

Just our luck, McKoy’s was running a dinner special that included one appetizer, two entrees (each with two sides) for 20 dollars. We thought that was a good idea BUT as it turns out, the entrees were so large that we could have split one entrée and been more than full.

For our appetizer, Jaime and I had chips and queso dip made of cheese, grilled chicken, spinach, and black beans. Blane and Patsy had grit cakes, a signature dish at McKoy’s. Three out of four of us thought both were fantastic; Jaime wasn’t a fan of the grit cakes but then again, she’s also the girl who won’t eat things if they’ve touched on her plate.



Jaime & I had pulled pork platters with mac & cheese and coleslaw. The slaw was recommended by the waitress. We decided that it wasn’t our style but perhaps we should have known better than to take menu advice from a woman whose own style was skin tight jeans and a teeny tiny top emblazoned with “I get paid to rub butts.” The bbq was tasty, with none of those gristly pieces you find so often in big chain restaurants. The sauce was great; a little bit spicy and a little bit sweet. The mac & cheese, however, was fan-flippin-tastic. It was, hands down, the BEST I’ve ever had. There are a few eateries I frequent that have mac & cheese that’s good enough to be dessert. The mac at McKoy’s was the perfect amount of creamy and cheesy, with noodles that were just the perfect amount of chewy and tender. The mac & cheese could have been meal, side, and dessert. I could have had that, skipped everything else, and walked away a happy, happy girl.

But had I done that, I would have missed dessert. The coconut pie at McKoy’s is made by the restaurant owner’s mom, with her own secret recipe. Not exactly a cream pie, not exactly a chess; it was a happy little hybrid of coconutty yumminess that was the perfect ending to a meal that would power us through hours of a rockin' country concert.

With great food, a relaxed atmosphere, and laid back service, McKoy’s definitely deserves a repeat performance. If you go, remember to either split a plate OR go to McKoy’s on a weekend when you have no other plans to eat out; no matter how large your appetite, I bet you could eat leftovers for at least two more meals.

I hope your weekend was, like mine, full of friends and fun. I hope you had a moment as “fan-flippin-tastic” as my McKoy’s mac & cheese. I hope you took a sweet pause over something as wonderful as a four person-sized slice of coconut pie. In short, I hope your weekend was a little bit spicy, a little bit sweet, a little bit special, a little bit… Something More.

The Exception to the Rule

Hello, blog friends! Remember me? Long time, no see. So much for my promise to myself to blog every day, right? The bad news is that I haven’t lived up to my own lofty expectations (imagine that!) BUT the good news is that you can rest easy that if I’m not blogging, one of two things is happening in my corner of the world. Either a) I have nothing blog-worthy going on (which you know can’t possibly be right) or b) I’m out kicking up my heels and just haven’t had time to tell the tales. If I were a bettin’ gal, I’d bet on the latter.

Buckle up, boys and girls, we’re taking a little Drive.

As much as blogging every day was my intent, it was also my intention to not duplicate topics. If you’ve read this blog for very long, you have figured out that my “No Duplication” policy has basically two exceptions: Christian Kane and Bill Gentry.

Three weeks ago, before the maple syrup hit the waffles after the concert in Lynchburg, Blane, Patsy, Jaime, & I were busy making plans to see Bill Gentry again in Charlotte. To pass the days that were moving slower than turtle speed, we watched one or two youtube videos , learned the words to a few more songs, and chatted with Bill and the band on facebook.

Finally, Saturday arrived and we jetted off to Charlotte for the big show.

We got to Coyote Joe's before it was too crowded, wandered around a little, and then struck up a conversation with a bouncer who asked us if we wanted to go to the Meet & Greet. I think he actually said, “Come to the Mee..” before we were out of our seats like we were on fire, blazing a trail to the back door of the place.

When we walked into the M&G, I immediately noticed that the band was missing two members and I was teetering on the verge of upset but karma was smiling on us and just about the time Jaime walked up to take photos, they walked in. Whew! Good thing; it just wouldn’t have been the same without Eric and Steve. And, since we're facebook friends with most of the guys (yep, in some tiny way, we're "with the band"), they remembered us from Lynchburg and Jaime and Bill laughed over him splitting his pants. When he showed her he was wearing the same pants, sewn up of course, I’m pretty sure I saw 19 shades of blush between the two of them. We shared a round of hugs and some laughter; the night was off to a phenomenal start.

The concert was as unbelievable as I anticipated PLUS some. Just when I think I can’t have more fun than I had at the previous Bill Gentry show, he finds a way to prove me wrong. He raised the roof; we raised a ruckus. Alongside the covers of Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me, Lynard Skynard's Simple Man, and Jason Aldean’s She’s Country (among many other songs), he played most of our favorite BG original tunes and this time, we knew almost all the words. I hated he didn't play Hell & Half of Georgia; I'd been practicing that one and it's one of my favorites (even though I am a firm believer he should have been looking in NC and not in GA!) He noticed that we were singing right along with him although I suppose it would be pretty difficult to overlook our front row, center stage, singing, hollering, cheering, clapping, jumping and fist pumping.

After the show, we hung around for a minute to speak to Bill and he was, as we expected, grateful, genuine, humble, and friendly. What we didn’t expect was to learn that our favorite fella had the flu. Through more than two hours of a high speed and low drag, pedal to the metal, rockin’ country show that moved along with breakneck fury, Bill camouflaged well the fact that he was miserably sick. Just another tribute to how fantastic Bill is; nothing keeps the man from doing what he loves and from taking us along for the ride.

After one last round of hugs and promises to see each other again in Raleigh this weekend, we headed toward the car. But then I saw Matthew standing beside the tour bus so my route to the car veered slightly off course for one last goodbye hug for my favorite fiddle player. He did not, however, let me try on his hat! :)

Without reservation, I believe that I’ve talked to him enough times that I can honestly say that Bill Gentry is one of the nicest people I’ve met in ages. He’s above and beyond gracious on facebook, always commenting back to people and thanking them for coming to see the band. Live and in person, the only thing that overshadows his commanding stage presence is his lively demeanor. Bill’s energy catapults off the stage, bounces off the back wall, runs around the room high-fiving people, pauses to slam a few shots of Jack with the boys at the bar, jumps back on stage, spins a microphone stand, and tosses some beads to the fans, tangling a few into the rafters so that no one ever forgets he was there. He's a flash of frenzied fun; this shooting star is blazing one heck of a hot trail!

Bill Gentry is the life of any party and lucky for us, there’s an open invitation for everyone to join in on the fun. He'll be in Raleigh this Friday; we will too. Hope to see you front row!

Pull up a Chair at... Cameron Bar & Grill

When the world turns upside down and things feel inside out, the quickest and best remedy is to go to lunch with one of my most favorite people on the entire planet. And it never fails that by the end of an hour (give or take a few minutes), the problems are smaller, the blessings become clear again, and the laughter flows with enough force to wash away more troubles than Calgon could ever even think about.

Today was one of those days. A near and dear friend and I met at the Cameron Bar & Grill. With it's fancy black awning and cloth napkins, we thought it might be pricey but we were surprised to find out that the prices were reasonable. The waitresses were friendly and the service was lightening fast.

We fought the urge to resist the specials advertised on the chalkboard- Beefaroni and Martinis. I’m pretty sure the CB&G people didn’t intend for those items to be on a combo platter but we weren’t the only ones who noticed, and commented, on the unlikely pairing.

My friend had some sort of flatbread sandwich with blackened chicken, red peppers (I think) and pesto. She gave it high marks for excellence. I had the club sandwich; I love the idea of a club sandwich- three toasty layers of bread, ham, bacon, cheese, lettuce, and tomato held together with a frilly toothpick. But, is it just me or is a club sandwich about the messiest sandwich in the world? Messy? Yes. Worth it? Also a profound YES! And the fries were perfectly crispy on the outside and fluffy on the inside so I was a happy camper.



This happy camper could have gotten the Girl Scout badge for Elated when the dessert arrived (which I didn’t take a photo of so as to not embarrass my friend who threatened, while laughing, to take her dessert to her car if I pulled out my camera to photograph the rich, gooey, yummy, off-the-diets evidence). My Oreo pie was fantastic but to be honest, the peanut butter chocolate brownie pie on her plate was sensational. Next time, I’ll skip the sandwich and just go for Fries & Pies, the lunch of champions.

And, as the last swirls of chocolate were scraped from my plate, I realized that we’d done something that was so much more important than just having lunch at a fun new-to-us place (that we’ll go back to over and over again, I’m sure). With laughter, we were distracted from looming work worries. With caring candor, she helped me to resolve an issue I hadn’t even realized I was having. With encouraging perspectives, we gave voice and merit to some solid ideas that, only moments before, had simply been lofty notions rolling around in our creative minds.

Lunch was delicious even if it wasn't quite nutritious (you can't really call fries and pies nutritious) but more than it fed the growling bears in my belly, it fed my spirit and for that, I am forever thankful and eternally grateful. Thank you, friend; today was… Something More.

Monday Music Review: Andy Lange

Monday Music Review on Sunday? Yes, because Monday comes quickly and I want you to be prepared in the morning when you roll out of bed in need of coffee and a good tune to get you moving. So, for this blog, the Monday Music Review comes a day early because it’s my party. And that’s the way I want it.

You all know that I think Christian Kane could very well be the center of the entertainment universe. We’ve talked about his music and his movies; we’ve yet to cover his television show, Leverage (which premieres for Season 4 on June 26 on TNT, by the way), but maybe we will soon. I’m sure you’re wondering what a TV show has to do with the Monday Music Review.

Wonder no more. It might be the extra long winding road, roadside taco stand pitstop type of scenic route but I do always get you where we're going sooner or later, don't I?

A few weeks ago, I was watching a DVR’d episode of Leverage; Nate and Sophie were this close to kissing and even though I’d seen the episode before, I was on pins and needles that they’d finally give in to the fact that they’re meant to be together. In the background, the song lyrics floated by... “I’m not sure yet about life, about love, but in time, I’m sure everything will be fine.”  Simple, profound, and hopefully foreshadowing a Happily Ever After for Nate & Sophie.

A little research led me to find the song, Not Sure Yet, and to discover the man behind this lyric, Andy Lange. Welcome to my infinite playlist, Andy.

Andy’s website says his music is a “brilliant confluence of catchy melodies”. I’m not exactly sure what a confluence is but it might have something to do with the fact that Andy Lange separately sings, plays keyboard, strums guitar, and creates other instruments out of objects that weren’t created to be instruments (think 5 gallon plastic buckets as drums). He then overlaps them to make a finished song. I find that fascinating but I also wonder how being a true one-man band works out for a concert. I guess Andy sings and plays one instrument while the sound magicians handle the rest. Maybe one day, I’ll find out live and in person.

Andy reminds me of a cross between Matt Nathanson and Jack Johnson, with clear and simple lyrics, soothing melodies, and a fragile vulnerability that makes me want to find Andy and give him a hug.

Every time I youtube Andy Lange, I find a new favorite tune (many of which are collaborations with a guy you’ll learn about next week). For this moment, my favorites are:

Hold It Against Me: This song is, to be candid, simply perfect. It’s romantic, it’s sweet, it’s unconditional. With the lyric, “You feel like paradise and I need a vacation tonight”, it’s a song you’d use to slow dance in your living room with the person you want to spend the rest of forever with. They say French is the “language of love”; if this sign language interpretation of Hold It Against Me in the link doesn’t make you rethink that notion, nothing will. Simply beautiful.

Wherever: This Lange tune is the ultimate in escapism, with the sweep-you-off-your-feet words every girl wants to hear: “I wanna get you out, I wanna take you away from there, wherever you want to go”. If he'd talk to me like that, I'd probably go just about anywhere with Andy Lange too.

and…

Don’t Lose Your Light: With the sweet sentiment “You’ve turned me around so much I’ve lost track. Maybe someone already wrote a long song about you”, this Lange song had me hooked because, let’s face it, nothing under the starry sky is more romantic than being the object of someone’s love song.

I don’t know where Andy Lange gets his creative inspiration but he makes me want to watch a romantic movie or write a sappy love letter where all the i’s are dotted with hearts. I’m off to find some stationary and my good writing pen. Until next time, friends, make today… Something More!