It feels like all we ever do is work in our yard.  But it’s not true.  It just feels that way because instead of surfing every other weekend or paddling, we’re weeding.  But, the weather has been less than cooperative so technically, we’re home anyway.  And the weeds are there so really, it’s something to do.

We have gotten away from the weeds a few times in the last few weeks and each outing has brought me back to memories in college and high school and even grade school.   Please join me for a little stroll through memory lane.

New Kids on the Block.  Oh yes.  I went to their show (again), this time headlining with the BackStreet Boys.  I didn’t want to go.  Once of NKOTB was enough for me.  But growing up, my sister was obsessed with the boy band.  So obsessed, she put a giant poster size puzzle together and glued it and put it on her wall.  It’s still in the basement of our childhood home and haunts, er, greets Kevin and I every time we go home for a visit.  I will admit, I loved belting out BSB “I Want It That Way” with thousands of other adult women, just like I do on long drives with Mar and KMJ.  And the most hilariously awesome part is how much they play up the sex-appeal.  I was embarrassed FOR them with all the hip thrusting and self touching going on.  Not attractive (although thousands of other screeching adult women would surely disagree).  Anyway, the good news about this concert viewing was it got my sister and her family to Seattle – which doesn’t happen often enough.

Soundgarden.  We just got back from the Gorge late last night where Chris Cornell sang his face off.  According to Kevin, his voice was meant to be heard at the Gorge just as Eddie Vedder’s was meant to be heard at Benaroya (that was also an awesome show, by the way).  It took me back to highschool where a lot of my friends were “grunge” and wore flannel on 90 degree sweaty hot days, wore holy jeans and wrote nonsense all over their jansports with a sharpie.  I was only sort of grunge.  My Mom wouldn’t let me put holes in my jeans or write on my jansport or smoke pot or sneak booze into class AND DRINK IT.  I did listen to ”grunge” music though.  It was an awesome combination of Soundgarden, Pearl Jam, STP, Nitty Gritty Dirt Band and the Aladdin soundtrack in my five-disc CD player.  I was so cool.

And then in college, I actually remember Spoonman playing in Red Square on my long walks to Balmer.  I picture him everytime I hear that song.

Sonics Night at the Mariners.  We really could have cared less about the game.  The draw were the Sonic legends.  The Sonics that don’t exist anymore because Howard Schultz sucks (but his bagels are awesome!).  The championship that now belongs to OKC Thunder because Clay Bennett is a liar.  It wasn’t until this night that I realized how much I miss the Sonics.  Working there was definitely the coolest job I’ve ever had.  How many people can say they did on-court promotions during half-time, ran in circles with giant flags that spell “S”, “O”, “N”, “I”, “C”, “S” in the 4th quarter of a tight game to get the crowd pumped, told Charles Barkley he should lay off our donuts since he had a game in an hour, watched the end of games from the cat-walk to drop T-shirt parachutes on unsuspecting but grateful fans, collect sweaty seat covers after the games and watch the same fans come game after game to cheer on their beloved team?  Not many.  I am lucky.

Seeing the Sonics greats reminded me of the good friendships I developed from working game nights and their influence of a basketball stadium tour that is halfway complete.  And it reminded me of  how much I loved basketball.  I was never really good.  But I loved to play with my Dad on summer nights.  I was so much in love with basketball, in junior high, I would set up a TV outside with full on extension cords and a TV sun block, so I could watch NBA Inside Stuff and the games to follow while doing homework outside in the sun.  Those were the days of the Dream Team, Clyde the Glide, the Mailman, John Stockton in his short shorts, David Robinson and Muggsy Bogues, Grandmama (LG) and Shawn Kemp.  Basketball just isn’t the same anymore.  And it’s even less the same without the Seattle SuperSonics.

Our recent trip to Paris (please refer to previous posts) was also a walk back.  My sophomore year in college, Gramma, Krista and I went to Paris for a week with my mentor Mary Ann Sanger and a group of students from SFCC.  One of the students in the group was Marisa.  I had known Marisa because we were both awarded the same scholarship our freshman year.  But we were acquaintances.  Because of this trip, we became friends and have since been all over the world together.  Paris reminds me of some of my favorite people and my first trip to Europe….where it all began.  I credit Gramma and Mary Ann for instilling the travel bug in me.  For that I am forever grateful.

July was full of weeds.  But better, lots of good memories, new and old.