Sunday, December 31, 2006

Romance Specialist

A few months ago I was fortunate to play a wedding event at the ultra hip Shade Hotel in Manhattan Beach. The point of the event was to show off the venue to wedding planners in hopes of netting more bookings.

The property was impressive. I was momentarily perplexed, however, as I tried to figure out how to turn the faucet on in the rest room. I took a picture of it in the "on" position so I would be able to get it there again if I had to.

One of hotel rooms was open for viewing. It had received the once over from the hotel's "Romance Specialist".

The cellist (another woman) and I were both impressed by the especially romantic touch the rose petals provided.

We agreed that the secret to creating romance in a room was an abundance of rose petals.

I couldn't wait to come home and show my dear husband Bob the romantic room. He took one look at the pictures and said, "What a mess. Who's going to clean that all up?"

I tried to explain that women don't consider rose petals strewn around the room "a mess". We actually tend to find them romantic.

Four months later Bob had to go out of town for two nights on business. I'd had an early morning recording session and was returning home to an empty house. Imagine my surprise when I walked into our bedroom and saw this:

Even Bob the Bear was decked out for the occasion.

How many people can say they're married to a true Romance Specialist?

Saturday, December 30, 2006

Recreational Eating

I have perfected the art of Recreational Eating. Since I fall woefully short when it comes to other forms of athletic activity, I am grateful for my prowess in the R.E. arena.
I come from a long line of exceptionally gifted cooks and bakers. Some of my earliest triumphs in R.E. were made possible by my Grandma Ann. Her Sunday prime rib dinners complete with Yorkshire pudding, creamed onions, creamed brussel sprouts, creamed spinach....I'm drooling all over the keyboard.....losing focus......must eat...........Okay, I'm back. Her Sunday dinners opened my eyes (and mouth) to the realization that I could be a truly, truly gifted R.E. athelete.

My mom Barbara has inherited all of her mother's skills and added some that Grandma could only dream of. You talk about your fine eating! Nothing could top the amazing meals that Mom prepared for the 6 of us night after night after night. I still dream of Chicken Kiev, that cornbread with onions, cheese, and sour cream baked on top, Dilly bread, her killer macaroni and cheese. My R.E. skills were further honed during the years at my mother's table.

My dad is no slouch either. He followed Grandpa into the bakery world. I remember with great fondness our nightly guessing game about what Dad brought home from the bakery for dessert. Is it Napoleans? Eclairs? Chocolate Chiffon Cake? Banana Whip Cream Cake? Kuchen? May I please have seconds?

I worked along side my dad in the family bakery for 17 years. Now there's a place to hone your R.E. skills. On second thought, it would be your Professional Eating skills, wouldn't it. In fact, I didn't do much in the way of R.E. or P.E. at work. Would one, after all, be eating paper clips if one sold office supplies or fan belts if one sold cars? I reserved my R.E. for social events, family get togethers, ball games, holidays, waking up in the morning...

I'm sad to say that the current season of R.E. must come to an end. I'd love to continue practicing my craft, but my wardrobe does not sufficiently accomodate my championship frame. Perhaps it would be better, then, if I got back to practicing my flute.