Subourbon Mom


Live Music – Live a Life Les Ordinary
December 21, 2021, 5:00 pm
Filed under: Food/Drink, Middle Age | Tags: , , , , , ,

Last weekend I was lucky enough to go see one of my favorite bands, Carbon Leaf.  Not only are they talented musicians and great performers, they also went to college with Hubby and I.  So, shout out to Carbon Leaf for still living the dream, even though we have kids, wear readers and pay mortgages.

When the time came to get ready, I was paralyzed with uncertainty.  What does one wear to a concert when you’re 50, and the band is 50, and its 35 degrees outside but you know its going to be 80 inside? I texted my helpful friends and these are the answers I got:

  • Slippers
  • Leg warmers
  • A banana clip
  • Esprit or Benneton sweater

But the most helpful was “Jeans, boots, cute long-sleeved shirt over tank top with a jacket you don’t care gets beer spilled on it so you can tie it around your waist when you have a hot flash.”

So there’s that.  Now I have to factor hot flashes into my wardrobe choices as well.

In the past, we would have forgone food and just pre-gamed at somebody’s house. That usually ended with someone holding someone else’s hair and running eye makeup.  As grown-ups, after a dinner and a couple of bourbons later we arrived at the concert walking straight and smelling like fried food.

Once inside, I was relieved to see we were age appropriate. See, the thing about being 50 and going to bands and other places is we either tend to be the creepy old people who get side-eyes from the youngsters, or we’re the youngest by 20 years getting side-eyes from the Q-tips. This time, there were two generations present – us, and our children. Carbon Leaf plays music both sets can enjoy. In fact, the younger crowd knew more of the sings than we did.

So, we danced and sang along, and I was secretly smug that I was getting my steps in, when I noticed something glinting on the floor. I picked it up – it was a pair of readers.

Omg.  That’s who I am now.

I used to find money on the floor at concerts, or maybe even a tiny bag of weed. Now it’s readers, and the woman in front of me was just as grateful I found those as she would have been back in the day if I’d picked up her bag of weed.

When the encore was over, my jeans were covered in spilt beer and bourbon, and I had in fact stripped off my jacket because of a hot flash or two. We headed out to get our requisite CD (yes, we still listen to them) and t-shirts to support the band.  Unfortunately, all I was concerned about when I selected my t-shirt was that it was soft, gray and had the band’s name on it.  I didn’t really pay attention to the actual design.

Once you see it, you can’t unsee it.  If you don’t see it, you are a better person than me.

Because I am super immature and have a 12-year-old sense of humor, this will forever be a sleep shirt, not for public.

The bottom line is, going to that concert reminded me of how much we need connection to our friends, our past, and our sense of fun and adventure. Stomping my feet not only got my steps in, it also reminded me of how much I love live music and, like the band members who are still living the dream, sometimes you just have “live a life less ordinary.”

Enjoy some Carbon Leaf – The War Was In Color (possibly their best song):

And “Life Less Ordinary”



Metamorphosis: Morning Me to Monster Me
February 6, 2021, 7:00 am
Filed under: Food/Drink, Middle Age, Misc. Humor | Tags: , , , ,

Morning Me (and by morning, I mean 6:00am) is half-asleep, full of optimism, lists and plans to eat fruits and vegetables all day.  I’ve scheduled my water and stretching breaks from the computer.  Sometimes I even decide to skip a shower so I can have some extra time to write my stories before the real world starts intruding.  In my mind, I’m sitting by the window, calmly sipping a cup of coffee, musing about what my latest characters are doing, or what the next blog topic will be.

I’m also feeling pretty superior to, well, everyone because I have control of my life.  I’m ready for anything.

And then one or all of these things happen:

  1. I realize it’s winter, and I still have the upstairs thermometer set to FRIGID because I’m 50.  I know I’ll have to sprint to the bathroom to take a shower to warm up, or put on my new Comfy (a Snuggie on steroids) that I got for Christmas and hope I don’t have any zoom calls later. I am not molting back into human form once the Comfy is on.
  2. I make the mistake of reading the news on my phone. Then, because I’m disgusted by the partisan slant, I read the BBC news to get a more balanced view. This is followed by a quick check of what’s new on FaceBook Marketplace, because who doesn’t love thrifting from their bed?  Suddenly it’s 8:00 and there’s no way I’m taking a shower now because… I’m adulting.
  3. I step out of bed and realize I didn’t do my stretches the day before and my feet are acting up again. There’s no way I’m going for that early morning walk. Now I have to take a shower to loosen up my feet and leg muscles, but by the time I’m done with the shower, I’ve already had two freak-outs about work or something else in my life, and that picture of coffee sipping by the window isn’t even a distant memory anymore.   

Afternoon Me, or Monster Me, is like Dr. Jekyll to my morning Mr. Hyde (or is it the other way around?).  Afternoon Me has changed into sweats. Afternoon Me’s styled morning hair has been yanked back into a ponytail with a scrunchy from 1988, because I realized on a video call that I need a haircut and a dye job. There are three half-empty cups of coffee on the windowsill and zero glasses of water. I’ve eaten a bologna sandwich at my desk with a side of cookies. Afternoon Me has gone from planning to sip coffee by the window to planning to drink a (large) glass of wine and declare it’s Cereal Night.  Again. 

I don’t know about you, but despite Afternoon Me’s ragged appearance and snarky mood, I still have hope. All is not lost because, if it was, I wouldn’t be Morning Me at all.

So, here’s to all the Morning Me’s out there and all they represent for us. May your Morning Me always be there for you.




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