Last month, Blink-182 announced a string of shows they’d be playing in L.A. to celebrate the 10-year anniversary of their self-titled album that was released November 18, 2003.
All the ruckus surrounding the shows reminded me that I had my own “Blink” anniversary coming up . . .
Today, November 14, 2013, is my 10-year anniversary of seeing Blink-182 for the first time ever (they were my absolute favorite band back then and I attribute a lot of my personality to their music and fart jokes, so this was a big deal).
The trio set out on “The DollaBill Tour” to support the self-titled release, returning to smaller venues they’d played when they were first starting out. Tickets, as the tour name suggested, were being sold for $1. The day they went on sale, I was on the phone with my mom in my high school’s office making sure she got 4 tickets for my three best friends and me. And she got ’em!
After weeks of clock watching, the day finally arrived. We drove 120 miles to the Quest Club in Minneapolis with about an hour ’til the doors opened. Time moved like molasses in January while we waited (in 20 degree weather with no coats, mind you), but we knew it was time we should be savoring. Before we knew it, the line was moving.
We finally made it to the front of the line. One by one we had our tickets scanned and entered the venue. Until the ticket man scanned my ticket . . . “ERROR” flashed across his scanner. He tried again — “ERROR.” “Looks like we’ve already scanned this one,” the ticket taker man said.
Tears poured down my face as I realized what was happening. My mother, bless her technologically confused heart, somehow printed two copies of one of the tickets. Meaning we only had three tickets.
MY LIFE IS OVER!!! This is the beginning of the end of happiness!! How could the universe have forsaken me?! WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYWHYWHYWHY!??!?!
I was completely heartbroken.
Thankfully, by the kind grace of the ticket man who was obviously a little uncomfortable with my unabashed weeping, I was slipped a ticket from an envelope he’d been holding. All he said was “Have fun.” I gave him the best hug I’ve ever given anyone.
The roller coaster of emotions I ran through in those 5 minutes all but heightened the entire experience for me. The perfect euphoria I entered that night, watching my favorite band play all my favorite songs to my best friends and me, is still unmatched with anything I’ve ever done or seen.
So, a very happy anniversary to a day that changed my life and cemented my obsession and love with music! And to those best friends I share the memory with who are still my best friends to this day.
Here’s hoping 2014 will be the year for Lullaby Renditions of Blink-182!
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Growing up in a theater family meant that Halloween was a pretty big deal at my house. I mean it – one year the makeup and wardrobe department of my parents’ theater was called in to help with my costume (I was McCavity the Mystery Cat from Cats, and I really wanted the costume to be authentic). And because of this, it was one of my favorite holidays (although, to be honest, I think I loved every single holiday when I was a kid).
Even when I was a little kid, I liked to be frightened. So during October, my Dad and I would usually watch a few scary movies together and we would turn off all the lights in the house to enhance the eeriness. One movie we all had to watch every year was Halloween is Grinch Night, which was a TV movie starring The Grinch, whom most people know from his Christmas movie only. But this one puts him in a much spookier setting (not too spooky; it is a cartoon after all). The whole thing is on Youtube, if any of you would like to make it one of your family traditions.
A few days before Halloween, we would all go pumpkin shopping at our local pumpkin patch. I would peruse the aisles of orange gourds, searching for the perfect canvas upon which I would carve my masterpiece. Once I found one (it was usually ginormous), my Mom and Dad would pick ones for themselves, and the following night we would carve. I would draw the scariest face possible and then my Dad would help me cut out the pieces. My Mom always roasted the pumpkin seeds after, which is one of my favorite fall snacks. Then we’d set them out on our porch, light ‘em up and bask in the glow of our artwork.
Halloween night started out with my Mom putting on Young Frankenstein, her favorite Halloween movie. All the neighborhood kids would come over to my house, because it was like Halloween Headquarters. My Mom would make a bunch of food and set it out buffet style for the kids and their parents to eat before heading out to Trick or Treat. She would also put out dry ice and play the same “eerie sounds” CD every year (EVERY year. She still has it, actually!) to make our front porch extra scary.
I still love Halloween, and even though I don’t go trick or treating anymore, and don’t have a porch to put scary pumpkins on, I do get dressed up (and I still watch Halloween is Grinch Night every year!).
Have any little ghosts that need to be quieted? Try these not-so-scary Rockabye Baby releases!
Happy Middle Child Day, my fellow “neglected” ones!
How nice that there is a day to commemorate our oh-so-prized place in the family. And in case you were wondering who else is in our posse, there are some icons in the group: Martin Luther King, Jr., JFK, Ernest Hemingway and Madonna, to name just a few. (Bet you never thought you’d see those four names in the same sentence.) The 14th Dalai Lama, too, actually.
I am not, of course, a person of such stature. Maybe I wasn’t overshadowed enough as a child to be determined to rise to fame later in my life. Though there’s still time for me, right?
While it’s widely assumed that being the middle child in the family is a drag, I think being born around a major holiday is worse. Talk about being forgotten… But to stay on topic, in my circles growing up, the middle child tended to be the rebellious one — craving attention, say psychologists — who always got into trouble, thus, embarrassed their parents often, but also was the most social and had a large circle of friends.
What people considered rebelling and troublemaking was what I still remember as really living. Is it because I was sandwiched between two siblings that caused me to sneak out in the middle of the night with high school dropouts or drive at ridiculous speeds down the 101 freeway while changing out of my school uniform? Or was it because I knew that whatever happened, my family would take me back no matter what? (As long as my name didn’t appear in the papers.)
I should face it…I was a reckless, clueless middle kid. As an adult, I know that now. I don’t think either of my sisters has received a speeding ticket to this day. I got one a few days after getting my driver’s license. My good friend always jokes that hearing about my middle-child teen misadventures reminds her of those rock videos featuring private school girls gone bad. (“Crazy” by Aerosmith, for example.)
Now that I’m a mother, I just pray that my only child, for now, will be more like the 1960s TV character Gidget when she’s a teenager. (My husband and I honestly racked our brains to come up with a current music video featuring teenage girls who are respectable by our standards but couldn’t come up with one. Can you?)
And while I didn’t grow up to be a major spiritual leader, legendary writer or material girl, the love I received from my family — even as a middle child — was enough to get me out of trouble, and living the very PG life I live now. So I have no complaints.
I honestly wouldn’t trade my place in the kid lineup with either of my sisters. I enjoyed pulling out the middle child card whenever I needed sympathy, I enjoyed seeing just what I could get away with as a teenager, I definitely learned the importance of compromise and, most of all, I love that I have two best friends for life.
Happy Middle Child Day to me.
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If you’ve yet to pick up a present for your father, there’s still time to spoil him with lullaby renditions of his favorite bands. Let’s face it…any day is a good day to show the father in your life how much he rocks!
Our Alternative Parenting bundle is specially priced for $55 through tomorrow, June 17! And it includes Lullaby Renditions of Nirvana, Weezer, Foo Fighters, Radioheadand Pearl Jam for only $55.
Want to know which record stores will be carrying Lullaby Renditions of The White Stripes on VINYL for Record Store Day? Check out our list of retailers below.
Not seeing your favorite record store on our list? Head over to the Record Store Day website and see if they’re listed as a participating store. If they are, call them and urge them to order Lullaby Renditions of The White Stripes for the big day!
I’ve been a mother for eight months now, and people always ask me what I miss most about my life before baby… (That ellipsis was me thinking.) Um, less laundry? Less responsibility? Less trash? More sleep?
One thing I do miss about my pre-baby but not pre-pregnancy life is my dream world. I don’t know about you other mothers or mothers-to-be, but when I was pregnant, the places I went to and the things I did in my dreams were way, way, way beyond my imagination.
I lived like a rock star in one, had NC-17 adventures in another… (that ellipsis was for me blushing) and often, I even flew around like a superhero. So I travelled everywhere. That was my dream life when I was carrying little D.
Maybe it was hormones; maybe it was my subconscious getting all my wild tendencies out in my dream world before settling into motherhood. Or, maybe, it was my little girl who sent me out on all these crazy escapades, giving me the most fantastic slumber life saying, “Hey, mama, enjoy this time; I’ll be a great adventure, too.”
But these last months, you know how eventful my dreams were?
I woke up this past weekend a bit confused and told my husband, “I think I just went to the grocery in my dreams. Or did we actually go?” In another dream, it got even duller and I didn’t go anywhere: I cleaned the house. Where’s the fun in that?
Is my wild dream life a thing of the past?
Is my greatest fantasy getting chores done?
Will I ever fly again?
I decided it was time for a big helping of my life before baby. I went out. Without my husband, without baby D—and certainly not to the grocery store.
I joined two non-parent friends and my older sister and BFF—both of whom also wanted a “Mama’s Night Out”—and ventured out on a Saturday night in Hollywood as we did before we had children (or were pregnant with them). We ended up at a very L.A. club that required being on a guest list, didn’t have a proper marked entrance (very Swingers-esque) and didn’t get happening until after midnight.
We had overpriced cocktails and danced as if we were teenagers, thanks to the DJ, who was spinning tracks from artists from our generation versus the 20-something crowd who ruled the place: Prince, Beasties Boys, The Cure, to name a few oldies but goodies.
We didn’t get home until after 1 am. And when I opened my bedroom door, there was my husband and baby fast asleep in bed. I stared at them for a while and thought, this night was even better than I had anticipated. Not because I got to go out without them, but because of what I came home to every night that I didn’t have 8 months ago. (Well, most nights, around that hour, I’d be nursing that babe of mine).
In that moment I decided that the two hours out in Hollywood was real life and my family life is the dream—though, very G-rated with occasional mature language (I blame hormones!)—even with the empty pantry, mountains of laundry and cluttered rooms.
But I’m hoping when I wake up next weekend, my husband and daughter make my dreams come true and those undone chores will be figments of my imagination. Yeah, I’d totally make them my Valentines if they did.
Make the mother in your life’s dreams come true this Valentine’s Day with a selection of Rockabye Baby CDs that will softly rock her and her baby to slumberland.
Now through February 14, we’re offering free domestic shipping on your entire order!
Unless you’re living under a rock, you know that millions of households and every bar across the country are gearing up for the big game this Sunday, the Super Bowl, arguably the biggest sports event of the year—except in our household.
You see, I married into a hard core basketball-loving family. The only reason you see any football playing on our television is if it’s being featured in a Hollywood feel-good flick.
Over the years I’ve tried to at least find a couple of hours of the week for me to have my NFL block of time. I’d put Monday Night Football on after work, but when my wife saw it was on, she’d never give me any peace to enjoy this great American pastime: watching a bunch of dudes tackling, running and grunting as I kicked back and drank a couple of beers.
When I became a dad last year, I finally got an ally in the household, a best friend forever, an NFL fan (whether she liked it or not) to follow the games with. So when the season started, I was determined to finally make this a football household.
My daughter, Little D, and I had dates for Monday Night Football and weekend games. I thoughtfully would send my wife to nap during those times and turn on the game while baby busied herself with her toys nearby in her playpen. D would happily respond excitedly to any of my cheers or grunts to the NFL action. She thought it was funny. This was our game.
I even joined a fantasy football league with my friend James and a few of his friends to really show my commitment this season, and named my team, Team D, for good luck. Team D actually kicked a– for those first months. (Honestly, I had no clue what I was doing.) But as the season went on “football D” went by the wayside, while I became more consumed with adventures with D outside the home. Now James has been stalking me because he wants the $30 I agreed to throw into the fantasy league.
But with Super Bowl just days away, I think it’s time to bring Team D back to life, because this Daddy and Daughter have a game to play—and I come out a winner every time. (We just have to make sure we get Mommy out of the house or to bed.)
And, guys, don’t tell James where to find me, all right?
For you football fans who need your peace to enjoy the big game, here’s Daddy in Training’s top picks to send your little ones (or significant others) to slumberland.
Baby’s cries making you wish a hero would save you? Fear not, parents, for these peaceful renditions of Nickelback’s best-loved songs will remind you what quiet sounds like. This is your child’s very own lullaby.