#7 - SHS Mini Band Reunion - July 10

High School can be a drag for lots of kids and the beginning of blossoming for others. For me, I think it would have been a daily torture if not for being in the band. The unique thing about band is that it spans all grades, it is mostly non-competitive, has students of all body types and scholastic levels, and meets almost every day as well as some nights and weekends. It is almost impossible to spend that much time with people over as many as 9 school years and not form some strong and lasting bonds.

Two of my older brothers started saxophone when they were in elementary school. By the time Dan got to high school, he was allowed to use a school instrument and I was able to pick up the old silver Buescher and became hooked from day one.

The truth is that band was (and is for the most part) really awful during elementary and junior high. Kids start and drop like crazy, you meet for a limited time, and you all just sound horrible. In junior high, we met before school twice a week. It took stamina and desire to keep playing. I think if I hadn't been motivated by seeing my brother Dan's high school band concert and understood the eventual outcome, I may not have been able to sustain. I loved going 'back stage' and meeting the 'musicians' and couldn't wait to be playing with some of them.

Our high school band director, Al Tinkham, was a pretty good guy unless we pushed his buttons to the point of making him throw his baton across the room. He had a good sense for picking music that the audience enjoyed and was the right mix of challenge for his students.

Somewhere between Jr and Sr high, I met Pam C (clarinet). We eventually became joined at the hip and were known around school as a set more so than as individuals. We began adding ‘players’ to our core ensemble: Tom (trumpet), Dave (trumpet), Julie (flute), Carolyn (flute), another Pam (sax), Phil (trumpet), Tony (sax), Maury (flute), and so on. When you have to play parades in crazy layered wool and leather outfits, ride busses packed with kids and large instruments, march behind horses, and sit in the freezing cold at football games to play “Star Spangled Banner,” you have no choice but to be silly, laugh at it all, and create stories for a lifetime.

When Pam invited me to a high school reunion of people connecting on Facebook, we simultaneously thought it would be great to see who we could get from our band to join us. We found Tom in Maine and Dave still in RI but Carolyn was on tour with the Pat Methany band! During the days leading up to the reunion, we all perused our past and scanned and sent pictures from the good old days to each other. It was lots of fun and allowed us to remember things we had all but forgotten.
In this picture: Marianne, Pam, Tom, Dave

On the morning of the reunion, I took an extra long shower since Truman had been sprayed by a skunk the night before and I was sure I smelled. I made my way to RI in a steady sheet of pelting rain and sluggish traffic wondering if this was actually going to happen. Two missed exits and several phone calls finally got me to Pam's house where we went directly to Friendly's to begin our reunion with Tom over a trio of patty melts. We caught up on family and looked through photo albums and yearbooks to study-up for the evening.

In this picture: Mike, Pam, Maury, Tom, Marianne, Dave

Walking into a school reunion after more than 30 years is a somewhat surreal experience. You look at the faces as you walk by but your brain can't process fast enough so you awkwardly scan to the chest where the name tag inevitably was placed and try to make out a name. Did that help? Not always. Do they recognize me and think I am a snob for continuing by? Finally someone yells “Marianne!!” And I know it is Tammy without checking her name – I even knew her husbands name: win-win. After hugs and chatter, we made our way to the back of the bar where our band of bandies had made camp. I hoped I didn't smell like skunk. That is where we found Dave – 30 years later.

He was definitely not that tall in high school. More hugs and memories to share. So many stories were forgotten but when you are with the people in them, they come back. About 10pm we ordered up some greasy snacks and laughed about Tom still being accident prone, Dave coming from a perfect family and raising a perfect family as we had all thought he would, how Pam attracted all the boys but swatted them away like flys, and how I always instigated trouble. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

In this picture: Pam, Tom, Marianne, Dave, Mike, Lusine

The next morning, Pam and I went back to the yearbooks to look up names and marvel at how there was no way that could be the same person! We dressed and drove to Dave's for a cookout and met his perfect wife and perfect kids. Tom and Dave's best pal from high school, Mike, and his beautiful little daughter Lusine also joined us. We got to tell the stories again to his family and each time, a few more details were remembered and added.

I knew these people so well yet I didn't know them at all. Strangers in a way that I felt completely at home with. I didn't want to leave because even though I had forgotten so many details of our past, I clearly remembered that we were all great friends and shared so many laughs, and sometimes tears, together. And it seemed enough just to know that.

I sure hope we don't wait 30 years to do this again!

#6 - Meeting a NASA Astronaut - June 5

Nestled in the heart of the Berkshires, for the last 70 years in a historic 1870 Victorian, is the melodious Berkshire Music School. It was there that I spent 2 years as the Marketing Director for special events, classes, and fund raisers. The music school teaches strings, winds, piano and voice to students of all ages. It is heartwarming to see a 4 year old girl playing a tiny violin or a 65 year old woman singing opera – all in the same recital.

One early summer morning, before the rest of the staff arrived, I took a self guided tour of the nooks and crannies of the old home. In one of the closets, I found a dusty collection of abandoned and forgotten violins. Several months later, these became priceless works of art and were sold at a very successful one-of-a-kind art auction. During the auction planning, I created a website used to promote the violins and the artists who created them. Through the site, I received an email from a women in California who loved the concept and was wondering if we had a poster to sell. I said “Yup!” and began working on one immediately. That poster is the muse for this Blog.

In the early 80's, Stephanie Wilson was a clarinet student at the music school and scholar at her high school with a great interest in astronomy. She went on to study engineering science at Harvard and aerospace engineering at the University of Texas. Diligence and persistence got her accepted to the NASA Space Program in 1996 and she is now a veteran of three space shuttle flights: STS-121 in 2006, STS-120 in 2007, and STS-131 in 2010.

In preparation for her 2007 flight, NASA called various places in the Berkshires on behalf of Wilson to request objects to be flown in space. The music school decided to send one of my violin posters (but not before I signed the back in big bold letters!).

STS-120 Discovery (October 23-November 7, 2007) launched from and returned to land at the Kennedy Space Center, Florida. Designated as flight 10A in the ISS assembly sequence, it was also a crew rotation flight, delivering an Expedition 16 crew member and returning with an Expedition-15 crew member. During the STS-120 mission, the Node 2 module named “Harmony” was delivered to the International Space Station. This element opened up the capability for future international laboratories to be added to the station. In addition, the P6 Solar Array was re-located from the Z1 Truss to the end of the port side of the Integrated Truss Structure. During the re-deploy of the array, the array panels snagged and were damaged. An unplanned spacewalk was successfully performed to repair the array. Wilson was responsible for robotic arm operations for vehicle inspection and EVA support, and she served as the Flight Engineer assisting the Commander and Pilot with space shuttle systems. The mission was accomplished in 238 orbits, traveling 6.2 million miles in 15 days, 2 hours, 23 minutes.

Source: http://www.jsc.nasa.gov/Bios/htmlbios/wilson.html

In May, 2010, Tracy Wilson (no relation) phoned me from the music school to say that NASA called and the poster was being returned home and she would like to invite me to a special ice cream social to commemorate the event. I thought the poster had been 'lost in space' after all this time! It was hot and sunny when Stephanie Wilson drove up to the music school on June 5 wearing her blue NASA jump suit and carrying a portfolio of goodies from outer space. During her last visit home, she signed a violin from our auction and we were able to display it in its new case with an official NASA patch. At the same time, she produced my little poster that had traveled well over 6 million miles to a place that will only be visited by the most minuscule percentage of Earthly inhabitants. She had signed the front and accompanied it with an official patch and mission collage. When she turned it over, I saw my big bold signature verifying that it really was mine. Wow – this is kind of cool!

Students and parents surrounded Wilson to get autographs and hear tales from space. I had a long list of questions but time was limited and I decided it was best to just listen. Someone asked how she felt about the shuttle program being phased out and she said it is time as the technology was outdated and would need to be redesigned and replaced but could not be upgraded. The shuttle has 5 computers each with 28k of memory! I asked what her hope was for the future of space – the ultimate desire. She said NASA's main concern is to continue trying to travel to other planets. Stephanie said from space you could see the deforestation of the Earth as well as the Gulf oil spill and miles and miles of highway and homes. We are depleting the Earth. I wasn't exactly sure what NASA wanted to do. Send humans to live on other planets once we over populate? Ship our garbage to Neptune? Or send the BP execs to Uranus? Whatever it was, we are now working with the Russians to maintain the space station and continue to explore space and beyond.

Stephanie Wilson is smart, gracious, personable, and interesting. She had many stops while home in the Berkshires as well as receiving an honorary degree from Williams College. Maybe if I have the opportunity to talk to her again, I will get to ask her about space hair care, eating, showering, and, of course, space diapers.

Seeing my friends from the music school, Kathy, Sandy, and Tracy, was also a treat. In some ways, it feels like I never left.

The Violin Auction Website  (note: Google Pages are not supported anymore)

#5 - First Golf Tournament - May 26

I am mostly right handed but sports oriented in my left hand which has always been my main excuse for never playing golf. I attempted it many years ago due to frustration of the men taking a golf day or playing with clients, etc., while the women held the office together. But no one ever had clubs for me to use and I couldn't manage to swing right, so my efforts ended without a fight. Then the child bearing and raising years extinguished any glimmer of a thought of golf and pushed it even further away into the way-back pile and teetering on the never-ever pile.

But, last year, after being laid off :( from a great job, I grabbed a set of women's lefty clubs at a tag sale and signed up for lessons with a friend. Even when I put my kids in lessons, they never seemed to get any further than the driving range, and here I was, week after week, trying to smash balls as far as I could – which wasn't very far – but never playing the actual game. However, once people hear that you are taking lessons, they all want to play with you.

In the fall, I was invited by pals Barry and John to play at the GEAA and then I invited Wayne to play at Cranwell with a gift certificate I had won. We played for fun and didn't really keep score of the 9 holes but I do know that in bowling, my score would be coveted. Dave asked me continuously but I refused repeatedly because golfing with him would be like playing basketball with Michael Jordan. It would make my inabilities seem like disabilities.

Now almost 7 months later, Dave asked me to play in a tournament to which I promptly said no. Then I said no to his text and no to his email. He even had Amy from his office call me and entice me with free stuff, good food, sunshine, and beer. Alright, already! But don't have any expectations of me!

May 26, 2010 – The Pittsfield Rotary Club Golf Tournament at the Pittsfield Country Club
Team CompuWorks: Dave, Joe, Amy, Marianne
Format: Scramble

I was excited to finally wear my pink/brown/white plaid shorts and pink top but sadly the thermometer forced me to rethink my choice and 3 outfits later, I had on a sleeveless collared top and loose quick-dry shorts. I dug my clubs out of the garage and tossed them into the car. I remembered that Wayne had done some club swapping so I wasn't even sure what I had in my bag but was excited to find a sweet hot red driver. Perfect.

When we got to the club, we collected bags of tees, raffle tickets, 2 cases of beer mugs (I have no place for these!) and Dave bought each of us a Mulligan. A Mulligan is a 'do-over' card. I was thinking that I would like at least 18 of these. Dave wanted to hit a few balls but I just wanted to go see what was for lunch. Yum – fajitas, homemade guacamole, assorted salads, fresh brewed ice tea, and cookies.

We loaded our cup holders with cold bevies and took off down the path to hole #14. Teeing off feels a little like being on stage. I don't mind being on stage when I know what I am doing but this is different. People who are much better than me looking at my stance, my grip, my swing, and all making comments that are going to have absolutely no effect at this point. We each hit our ball and, ironically, seemed to choose Amy's as the best ball more often than not. I don't think mine was ever used. I am usually pretty good at putting but Dave was in the putting zone (good thing because his driving was way off!) and I didn't even get a chance to putt on most holes. Luckily, I have no golf ego and if I had any at all, it was gone after 8 holes in 90 degree record heat and humidity. I much preferred sitting in the cart sipping ice tea. When we got to putting green #1, the sprinklers went off – Amy and I took the opportunity to run through the refreshing spray. Hole #8 was by the water as were the cottonwood trees. The fairway was filled with big fuzzy white seeds which made it impossible to find your ball. Joe and Dave both lost their balls, Amy's was dead center, mine was hot pink. #8 was also a turtle crossing so we had to watch where we were driving.

After many of my shots, I called “Mulligan!” but I soon realized that this Mulligan was not going to be played by me and that it actually had a street value. We made par on most of our holes and I ended up selling my Mully back to Dave as my contribution to the score. The very last hole was birdied thanks to a beautiful putt by Amy. I screamed for joy in solidarity for my female teammate but mostly because this torture was over and cold brew and hot buffet awaited.

It's now been a week since I played in that tournament and got this blog completed. If I had finished it last week I probably would have summated that golf is torture and I just don't get the appeal. But the pain and exhaustion have worn off and I suppose I am looking forward to playing again in a less pressured situation, fewer holes, and actually counting my strokes so that I can work to improve. I love being outside and the Berkshire scenery is amazing – that could just get me to come back again. But frankly, I still don't really get it. Maybe I should stick with the pole dancing....?

#4 - Mother's Day Race - May 9

I was the fastest girl in the 6th grade at Anna M. McCabe Elementary School. I was selected to represent the school in the 50 yard dash at Field Day competing against the other elementary schools in the area: Raymond LaPerch, William Windsor, and Old County. This meant way more than the end of year 5th grade Spelling B where I tied David Surprenant for the win. No one could catch me – years of running away from 5 brothers who wanted to pulverize me for any or no reason at all was about to pay off big.



I was in a fog of self-imposed pressure at the starting line in a ragged pair of hand-me-down Keds. Usually I ran barefoot at home because shoes never fit me right. I couldn’t even tell you who I was racing against. I could see the finish line – right there – just 50 yards away – not far at all – I can do this! Ready! Set! Go! As the adrenaline rushed from head to toe and I took a colossal breath and clenched my teeth, my foot slipped on the lousy gravel track and in a fraction of a second, my view was of several fannies getting away from me. I didn’t lose, but I didn’t win either. I was crushed. My racing career ended that day quicker than it began.

Fast forward 40 years and I am on the starting line again. The pressure is a little different this time. I am not going to win and have no chance of it but I risk becoming an even bigger dork because I am running with my kids - teens.

When I started this 50x50 blog a month ago, I thought my daughters would be the last to sign up – they didn't really get it and they don't make great efforts to spend lengthy amounts of time with me. But when people started signing up and coming up with cool ideas, Becca surprised me by asking me to run the Women's Running Race on Mother's Day with her. I was very surprised for several reasons:

1. I didn't think she wanted to do anything with me (after all she is nearly 18 which means you suddenly become independent, abundantly intelligent, and rich)

2. I don't run. I don't like to run. I don't run.

3. I had secretly hoped that Mother's Day would be spent at some kind of Belgian Waffle mimosa fruit cornucopia crispy bacon type of all you can eat palace.

I had no choice but to say 'yes' exuberantly. She only gave me a little more than a week’s notice which made getting ready for this arduous 2.1 miler a true challenge. Becca and Andrea have been running since they were little. Their daddy started signing them up for kid's races early on and he now runs a girls summer running club. Track Club

Becca made varsity XC for 4 years and ran track for 3. Andrea is the sprinter on her track team but she does not like distance (neither do I). I always feel like I could get there much faster on my bike. I made some efforts to go out for walks and jogs, hit the treadmill once, half hour on the lateral thigh trainer, but it was really hard with working, cooking, band, band parties, concerts, and socializing with Japanese Rotarians.

As luck may have it (?) Becca was out way too late the night before the race and didn't sleep well and Andrea decided to join us but only if we mix lots of walking with the running. Whew!! This just might work! On race morning, we woke to wind and flakes and I instantly regretted this decision. Andrea made me an English muffin, since time was short, and the three of us grabbed hoodies and gloves and headed to the start. Dave was already there with camera and stop watch in hand as he was the official race timer (don't you think he should have been home making me an omelet?). We got in line with 200 other women ranging in age from infant to 80. Bang! Run! We were off but immediately decided we should save our energy for the crowd of spectators up ahead. I thought the middle of the pack was a good place to be and had my eye on a few women I refuse to be beaten by but the stroller infants were way too fast. We ran past the on-lookers (mostly men) and smiled for our shots before moving into a quick stroll for the long hill.

This is Becca's last few months at home as she gets ready for college and life beyond. I should be proud of the daughter we raised and the job we've done but, actually, I feel cheated. I'm not ready to let go and be done. I am aching for the days when I could throw them in the car and head to the beach with a cooler lunch and make sand castles all day. My role now is handing out cash and rides and yelling “lock the door!” from my bed when the last one comes home. She is struggling to break free and I am latching on. However, that action creates friction and friction makes sparks and sparks ignite and “Holy crap! When the heck are you leaving?!?”

We crested the hill and felt a sigh of relief as the rest of the race would be much easier – mostly level and some gradual downhills. I hope that's how the next few months will go, but I know better. The last half mile was a smooth slope and we ran the whole rest of the way in - crossing the finish line together. Bittersweet.

As we waited for the results, knowing there would be no hardware for any of us, I noticed a young mother standing with her family. She looked to be in her 20's and was holding the hand of her 1 year old daughter while using all other available limbs to rock the 3 carriers on the floor holding her newborn triplet daughters. They were all perfect and beautiful and I overheard her telling someone that she never sleeps. I suddenly felt completely unworthy of exploiting this mother's day and wanted to offer my help to this overwhelmed young mother. If I had any advice to give her at all, it would be to cherish every moment, the good and the bad, because it all goes by in a flash.

xo

Mom

#3 - Meeting Japanese Rotarians - May 6

Konnichiwa!



“What happens at Gail's, stays at Gail's.” That was the story last time I had dinner at Gail's. I warned everyone that I would be blogging this event but that didn't stop them (and Gwen wasn't even there!)….

The Pittsfield Rotary Group Study Exchange received 5 guests from Japan for a few weeks in New England – this week was Pittsfield – and tonight was “ladies night” at Gail's. Gail hosted 3 women from Japan; Mika, Nana, and Tama; and 12 women from Pittsfield (the boys took their guests golfing).


I had so many questions for these ladies but the Americans far out numbered them which made it difficult to address my list. During appetizers of nuts, artichokes, spicy green beans, and mini quiche, Nana told us that she thinks American men are more gentlemen-like than Japanese men. She also thought that our generation had more male/female equality than her mother or her grandmother.

Nana 松岡 奈々 was recently married which gives her more 'power' in their culture than being a single woman. She has married a man about 22 years her senior and a very well to do auto parts manufacturer. Nana is a dentist. They take a trip (usually business related) every month and recent excursions have included Hawaii, Dubai, and Egypt.

The single women, Mika (landscaper) and Tama (massage therapist), told us that there are functions that they are not allowed to go to without a male escort. And the women in Japan must walk behind the men. They think that men holding doors for women in the US make them way more attractive and gentle and I suggested they stay a little longer before coming to conclusions.

These women felt that their generation was somewhat equal to men but definitely not their mother’s or grandmother’s generations.

The ladies were dressed very similar to us but can wear Kimonos out whenever they prefer in Japan. Nana loves kimonos but Mika would rather wear them only to special events like weddings and funerals and the like. Nana shared pictures from her wedding and Mika helped explain the costumes. Brides wear a traditional wedding kimono called shiromuku (white kimono robe), and grooms wear montsuki (black formal kimono). In a traditional Japanese wedding, the brides hair is also styled in the traditional hair style called bunkin-takashimada and adorned with beautiful gold combs and accessories called kanzashi. A white wedding hood called tsuno kakushi is meant to hide two front golden "tsuno", or horns, during the wedding ceremony to symbolize obedience. Ya lost me here. The horns symbolize jealousy and selfishness - attributes that should not be displayed at a wedding in front of the groom and his family. It symbolized her resolve to become a gentle, obedient wife. For the record, I clearly displayed my horns at my wedding so there would be no surprises in the years to follow.

All the ladies are staying at big homes with gorgeous acreage – very different from their small apartments in Tokyo. Mika is planning to ride a horse at the farm she is staying at and Nana was stunned to see a deer on the lawn of Gail’s house. This resulted in a lively discussion of Berkshire wildlife that has been recently spotted: bob cats, black bear, beaver, fox, wild turkey, and deer. The ladies began to giggle and speak to each other in Japanese. Finally they revealed that they thought the topic was hysterical as they never have such sightings in Japan – only cats and dogs and many of them are road kill. Tama was glad she hadn’t seen any “skanks” which we soon realized meant “skunks” – I told her there were plenty of skanks around if she wanted to see some.


Foreigners always make me feel stupid with their knowledge of many languages (and how we Americans struggle with just one). Nana said English is taught starting in middle school but it is not easy to retain since only Japanese is spoken in Japan. She took more English classes as an adult. Their lettering is the same as Chinese but Chinese is very different and they are not able to speak it. She also said that they are not very comfortable around foreigners because they grow up in such a pure Japanese environment.

After dinner, and a few glasses of wine, everyone was comfortable enough to get to the real questions. Nana stood up and announced that there are several American shows that they watch with great interest. One was “The L Word” which I have never seen but it revolves around west coast lesbians and the shenanigans of their daily lives. The women were very surprised that Massachusetts allows gays to marry as it is still kept somewhat hidden in Japan. The next was “Desperate Housewives” and finally, with great excitement, “Sex and the City” with “Carrie Bradshaw”! These shows allow them to learn English and American culture – good grief! What about “Little House on the Prairie”???

So…..one particular episode stuck out for these sophisticated ladies of the Orient. When Carrie and her posse spent a week in LA, Carrie scored an appointment with "the city's premier [bikini] waxer to the stars." Carrie later complained to her friends that she had been “mugged” and felt like a “hairless dog.” Samantha informed Carrie that this was known as a “Brazilian wax” and warned her that it is known to make her do crazy things. Miranda added that it is popular in LA because “the men are too lazy to go looking for anything.”


Now then, Nana, of course, wants to know if this really is popular amongst American women and while I rapidly shook my head side to side with a long low “NooooOooo!” some of the other ladies were up and down with “Uh huh.” WHAT?? While no one was forthcoming with any personal details, Courtney, our teen representative, said it was very popular with teenage girls. WHAT?? They barely got it – now they want to remove it? I don't understand.

Jen wanted to know if I had ever had anything waxed. No. Eyebrows? No. Legs? No. Bikini? No. Folks, I just had my first pedicure 2 years ago – let’s ease into this! Jen said “we must get yee to a waxer!” Guess what? I saw the wax scene in the “40 Year Old Virgin” - Kekkou Desu! (NO Thank You!!)


Steve Carell gets waxed: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w91ARapNx-c

The following evening was another party at Gail’s with all the delegates attending as well as several American Rotarian families. We were treated to Japanese specialties cooked by our new friends: miso soup, Japanese noodles, okonomiyaki (Japanese pancakes), onigiri (rice balls), and daikon (large radishes). In turn, we treated them to a camp fire and S’Mores.

My time with these visitors was way too short. I was just beginning to bond with Nana and friends and it was time to go. There is so much to learn about each other’s lives and cultures and I feel that I had just barely wet my appetite. But I am glad for the experience and another opportunity to complete a 50x50. Tomorrow is another day….


Domo Arigato!!

#2 - Pole Dancing Class in CT - May 1

In April 1979, I was a grill cook at the McDonald's in Smithfield, RI. I was actually a 'certified' McDonald's grill cook which meant I had been tested and interviewed on all things grill and could train others to be as great. Working as the smiling, cheerful greeter and cashier was Susan B. and on a particular day that spring of '79, I decided to say hi to her and a friendship was instantly born.

Sue and I were very similar – both worked at McDs, both started at Rhode Island College, both drove Scamps, and we were both a bit shy with a certain level of untapped reserve. For some reason, when we got together, the reserve was uncorked and you might as well have been adding a little baking soda to a cup full of vinegar. We erupted...

During the course of many years, we both married Daves, both moved out of RI, both had two children (she had two boys, I had two girls and our two oldest will graduate high school this year), and we both lost touch. Once she moved to CT from NH, I called her on her birthday a few years back and we picked it right up again. Now we try to plan a few eruptions throughout the year.

When I announced my 50x50, Baking Soda thought hard to see what she could get Vinegar to do. I reminded her that this was not a triple-dog-dare kind of event but rather like step-outside-your-comfort-zone and have a new experience with an old friend. So, inspired by a Teri Hatcher visit to Oprah, Sue suggested (keep an open mind till the end) that we take a Pole Dancing class. I said yes immediately (after saying no to her first suggestion).

Filled with buyers remorse, we searched the internet and called the studio for information and to make comparisons about ourselves vs other potential clients. We decided that we were at least in the bottom section of the upper half. Deep breath, let's do it.

Sue drove us from bucolic Colchester to seedy downtown Hartford. Inside 'Pole Control', we had to fill out forms with personal info and a contact person – in case of injury. We were hesitant to give addresses and phone numbers because we still felt that we were in the midst of a drug deal or signing up to work the nearest corner. Why did this feel so dirty?

Amy took us into the studio and got us warmed up. It was only Sue and I as two other young women who arrived without an appointment were sent away. We have yet to figure this out. Amy had us rotate our necks and stretch our backs and legs to help prevent injury. The studio had a wall of mirrors and several, perhaps 9, poles throughout the room. We picked the 2 in the back, of course.

Ashley, a certified pole instructor, came in and suggested we remove our flip flops. We did not bring our stilettos which meant we had to stand on our toes the entire time. This, in and of itself, was a workout that took great efforts to maintain. Standing on your toes allows your walk to be sexier, apparently. Try it. Ashley was was cut – her arms looked like that of a steal worker and abs were hard and defined with an inked butterfly splayed across them. Sue and I simultaneously sucked in our baby pouches.

First lesson was the three main hand positions. Make a mitt with fingers close together and thumb outstretched. Grab the pole above your head for position #1. Even with your head for position #2 and at your hip for #3. She turned the music on and “Big Spender” played as we gyrated our hips and got back on our toes. We moved to position #1 and did the “sexy cat walk”around the pole. Lift your legs high like you are riding a bike and push your hips out on the way down. The pole actually rotates with you which makes it a little easier to make great big sexy circles. The wall of mirrors was becoming a problem, though.

The next move was the “chair.” Arm in position #1. Sexy walk around the pole to a count of seven then bring the other arm to #2 and lift your legs to a seated position while swinging around the pole. Doesn't that sound easy? Suddenly, I felt like 300 lbs of dead weight – how did I get so heavy? And the circulating around the pole made me want to puke! This is hard! Back on your toes, sexy walk to seven, lift, swing, point your toes! OMG STOP! The room was spinning! Sue was on the floor laughing, Ashley was telling us how good we were doing and how we should definitely think about taking more classes.

Next we had to learn the Ballerina: Sexy walk to seven, leg perpendicular to the pole, wrap your knee around it, position #1, position #2, swing, head back, smile, heavy, dizzy, fingers slipping, falling...hands are burning!

Now the fireman position. We are not contortionists which made this more difficult than pretending to be ballerinas. Arm snakes around the pole as does the thigh, loop foot around bottom of pole as you swing, head back, NO! What? Show me again. Slower, one more time.

Ashley said we were her best students and it was time to put it all together 5, 6, 7, 8, walk, #1, chair, toes, ballerina, walk, toes, sexy, fireman, twirl...Ashley was now upside down halfway up the pole as Sue and I were still picking ourselves up from falling off our imaginary sexy chairs. Where does my thigh go for fireman? Which hand for ballerina? It was hopeless – hands burning, bodies getting heavier, and so so dizzy. I prayed that the 50 minutes were up and we didn't have to learn about astronauts or try to go upside down. I really was hoping for that on the way over but now I knew it meant a certain phone call to my emergency contact if we so much as attempted it.

Sue and I took some pictures, grabbed a t-shirt and hat and ran out before our parking went to another hour or smooth-talkin Ashley could get us to sign up for the advanced level. We sat in the car for a moment numb and nauseas and surprised that we had just endured such a grueling workout when we thought we'd just be learning a few knew household tricks. We also realized that there would be no opportunity to showcase our new skills or practice and perfect the fireman. So, I guess our pole dancing days started and ended all in the course of 2 hours.

I think if it wasn't for my incredible inability to keep from getting nauseas when I even watch someone twirl, I would consider Pole Dancing as an excellent way to regain my upper body strength. I lost it all after having shoulder surgery from a ski accident a few years ago. I would love to have arms like Ashley but, luckily, there are no pole classes in Berkshire County – I'll have to stick with Zumba for now.

We drove home with grins and giggles, glad we did it but knowing that we would probably never go back or ever be able to show our stuff (you should all be grateful). Therefore, it will remain a moment in time between two old friends and another 50x50 mission accomplished. So, the only thing left to do after an intense workout like that was to head over to Harry's Famous Drive-In in Colchester for the best burgers and fries served road side!

#1 Boston - April 24-25

*** #1 Baseball Weekend in Boston ***

I was born on December 20, 1960, and brought home as a gift to my three brothers on Christmas Day. My oldest brother immediately began whispering the names of the Yankees into my ears to make sure I became a fan; Berra, Maris, Mantle; as he did to each of his subsequent 6 siblings. Despite my father's best efforts to take him to Fenway and Pawtucket Red Sox games, all 7 children were wrongfully swayed and became die hard Yankee fans. I was able to celebrate the Yankees winning the Series 9 times since my birth. Sadly, my dad only saw 1 Red Sox win, and by then he may have converted to the Diamond Backs since he had moved to AZ.

In my current home, we are split down the middle – Becca and I are Yankee fans and Dave and Andrea are Red Sox. This usually isn't a problem (unless the Sox are losing).

So, when Dave said he got 4 tickets to Fenway for Andrea's 16^th birthday, I wasn't exactly overjoyed but I immediately put on my tolerant hat. I love baseball games so it really shouldn't matter what the team is, right? But this was an opportunity to wrap some other fun around a trip to Boston.

Boston – April 24, 2010

Target leave time: 9:45am

Actual leave time: 11:15 am

Participants: Marianne, Dave, Andrea, Jess (Andrea’s friend)

As soon as we got to Boston, we went to Fenway to get our will-call tickets for the next day. We parked right by the gate, got out of the car, and within seconds, our neighbor, Ward Johnson, was yelling to us from the Cask'n Flagon. He suggested we take the park tour – so we did!

The team was having batting practice when we entered the stadium which limited some of our access but we got to take lots of pictures and hear lots of stories. Fenway will turn 100 in 2 years which will make it a historic landmark and prevent it from ever seeing the wrecking ball.

Since our game was the next day, we headed to the hotel to check in and then to the North End for grub. This is the first time I went to the North End without having to burrow under a scurvy urine-filled overpass to get there. Walking the new greenway above the big dig was amazing – what a great improvement to Boston! I love waking into the North End – the crowds, the lights, tiny streets, and FOOD! We were so hungry and knew that lines would be growing quickly so we took a side street and went into Assaggio Ristorante and got seated immediately. A glass of chianti and bread dipped in olive oil and parmesan held us over as we waited for our baked artichoke. I ordered veal saltimbocca but I must say that being a fabulous Italian cook makes me overly critical and I think this one could have been a bit better. I was a little disappointed but still stuffed and pleased with just enough room for a cannoli at Cafe Vittoria. It was a long day but still not done. We walked off our meals strolling the greenway to Faneuil Hall. Andrea and Jess shopped at Newbury Comics and Dave and I watched the numerous groups of giggling bachelorette parties evidenced by their veil strewn tiaras. Next stop, the subway to the theatre district for a 10pm showing of Blue Man Group.

This was actually my 3^rd time seeing BMG but I thought Andrea and Jess would love it and I was able to score ½ price tickets. There was a cold vent blowing right on us so we had to keep our coats on and hoods up. The show was exactly the same as it was some 10 or more years ago but still funny and unique. When it was over, we were so tired, so we hailed a cab (on the wrong side of the park) to take us back to the hotel. Sleep came quickly.

In the morning, we made no gallant efforts to get the day going. We had 4 showers to get through (and 2 were teenagers) and we had to pack up. We left just after 11am and took the T to Fenway. Since the lazy morning took up most of our lunch time, we hit the vendor carts outside the park. I had a chicken teriyaki with peppers and onions while sitting on the curb straddling my water bottle. I was a little jealous of the patrons sitting in cafe tables outside the Cask'n Flagon having beer and drippy cheesy burgers served to them but when game time arrived and they impatiently waited for their checks, we crushed our foil wrappers and took off.

On our way to our section 30 row 15 left field line seats, we saw another neighbor, Dan Ford. When I say neighbor, I'm not talking about someone who lives in the Berkshires, I'm talking about my tiny cul-de-sac – small world? I think so.

The forecast said rain but the blue and white sky said “not today folks.” I made the kids take every sweatshirt they own and I had Under Armour under my turtle neck (did I mention that I was a Girl Scout?).

Play ball! Red Sox vs Baltimore Orioles

The colors of the crowd were mostly red, white and blue with a spattering of Baltimore orange, and specs of bright yellow food schleppers . Dave secured a lemonade and bag of peanuts and the girls had ice cream in little hats all before we even took our seats. Andrea and Jess took off their sweatshirts to display their fan shirts. I unzipped my coat…a little. I wanted a beer to go with the peanuts but at $8.75 for a plastic cup of Bud Lite, I decided I could wait for a frosty mug of girly beer with floating fruit for $4.25 when I got home.

The game began and the crowd settled in. I won’t go into game details because you can catch that in other blogs, but I will tell you that every game I go to, anywhere, anytime, goes into extra innings and in the 7^th inning when Baltimore tied it up, Dave looked at me and said “Oh no, your extra inning curse is kicking in!” At least it was only one inning. There was a bit of a rally in the 10th and the Red Sox scored two runs to make it 7-6. There is nothing like a line drive hit to left field causing 37,000 people to collectively scream “YEA!!” just to have it caught and hear 37,000 painfully defeated “awwww’s .” Sox lost.

ESPN - Sox vs Orioles

I will admit that I had a great time. I sang “Take me out” in the 7^th and did the wave in the 8^th. I Ohhh’ed and Ahhh’ed when I was supposed to and felt (a little) bad for the loss. I think Sox and Yankee fans are actually very similar. They are incredibly passionate about their teams, and their teams are defined by their beautiful and beloved cities, oh, and the food vendors even sound the same: “Get yaw beah heah!!”