This post is going to have to be of the super-quick-first-draft variety because my battery is almost dead, and there’s just no way that I’m going to get out from under this toasty warm blanket to go fetch a power cord. Nonetheless, I feel like I need to document for all posterity what happened last night in Memphis.

Besides the walking, of course. Because I think it goes without saying that there is always walking in Memphis.

Sometimes people even people walk with their feet 10 feet off of Beale.

But do you really feel the way I feel?

(I’m so sorry.)

(I’m just so sorry.)

Yesterday I drove to Memphis because Sister, Janie (our sister-in-law) and I had big plans to go see Dave Barnes’ Christmas Show. I missed it when he was in Birmingham, and since Drew Holcomb & The Neighbors AND Gabe Dixon were also playing, it was a must-see event for me. The mere thought of it was almost more musical happiness than I could bear.

Well.

I wanted to leave Birmingham yesterday morning, but It took a wee bit longer than I expected to get out of town. It’s a long, dramatic tale for another day, but it involved an oil change, a false alarm with a tire, a dropped box of cupcakes, a very short temper, a small emotional breakdown, a good bit of apologizing and a lunch at Chipotle that brought about some restoration and healing. ANYWAY, when I finally turned onto Highway 78, I let out a huge sign and couldn’t wait – COULD NOT WAIT – for a night of great music.

Have I mentioned that I couldn’t wait?

Sister and I got to Memphis about the same time, and around 6:00 we all headed to dinner. After a great meal we drove to the concert, and we were tickled – TICKLED – when we found a parking place super-close to the venue. STEPS AWAY, in fact. The night was full of promise.

There was a huge crowd for the show, which was awesome, and after we claimed a little piece of the back wall as our own (the tables were full by the time we got there), we settled in for our big-night-o-fun. Not too long after 8:00, Drew Holcomb & The Neighbors hit the stage, and the three of us were immediately captivated by Ellie Holcomb’s voice because OH MY WORD. Plus, she had on this really cute dress that I can’t even begin to describe except to say that it was sparkly and flowy and festive-y. Her hair was also a point of obsession with me, but the main thing, the biggest thing, was her voice. And her husband’s voice. Together.

See?

I noticed during the first song that the people in the audience seemed to be talking a lot, but I sort of chalked it up to the fact that there was a big college crowd there and people were getting re-acquainted after a semester away from home. But during the second song, the talking continued. Oh, there was applause at the end of each song, and the audience was enthusiastic enough, I reckon, but they NEVER QUIT TALKING. EVER. AT ANY POINT IN THE SHOW.

Gabe Dixon sang? They talked.

Dave Barnes sang? They talked.

Drew and Ellie Holcomb sang? They talked.

They talked and they talked and they talked and they talked.

By the fifth or sixth song, I was just undone. There were all of those incredibly talented musicians on the stage, and people were talking like they had run into each other at the mall or were trying to kill some time in a waiting room. There were loud, active conversations going on all around us, and when I reached the point when I couldn’t take it for one more second, I did the only thing I knew to do.

I shushed them.

I did.

I said, “SHHHHHHHHHHH!” really, really loudly. And then I said it again. And then Sister chimed in and said, “HUSH!” And then I think I shushed once more for good measure.

You’ll be shocked to know that people were not terribly responsive to our demands for silence.

But seriously – what is up with paying good money for a concert ticket and then thinking that you’re somehow entitled to carry on conversations while people are performing? I don’t get that AT ALL. I mean, if you want to talk while somebody is singing, then maybe you should just stay home, invite some friends over, and listen to the CD. Or get in your car and ride around and listen to the CD. But don’t pay money for a concert ticket and then treat the musicians like they’re background music at Starbucks, for heaven’s sake. Every single person who was on that stage is so stinkin’ talented, and all the Chatty McTalkersons in attendance missed a real treat by not giving the musicians their undivided attention.

IN MY ADMITTEDLY UPTIGHT OPINION, OF COURSE.

All the incessant mumbling and murmuring aside, we really did have a great time. The music was incredible. And when we got in the car to go home, we laughed until we cried about the fact that I thought I could shush a room of 500 people. Apparently when I feel that others are misbehaving I turn into a cross between a PE teacher and an assistant principal. All I needed were some gym shorts, a whistle and an intercom system. And a stack of detention slips, of course.

Please let me know if I can be of service at any of your holiday gatherings.

Love,
Mamaw

I keep thinking that I’m going to sit down and write a nice, semi-interesting update (not to mention that I still have that post-Deeper Still EPISTLE that I’m reluctant to publish because OH, THE INTROSPECTION), but if I take a long, hard look at, you know, REALITY, I don’t really see any way around a little bloggy break. I need to let my to-do list boss me around for an hour or eight tomorrow. I’m going out of town Friday and would prefer to wear some clothes that are clean. And on top of all that, I have three no-wiggle-room deadlines Monday. Just for kicks and grins, of course.

So I’ll see y’all next week. I think it goes without saying that I’ll miss you terribly, but I’ll say it anyway because, well, I’ll miss you terribly.

Happy Weekend Before Christmas, everybody!
____________________________________________

Don’t forget to enter the 6th installment of The Laughing Cow $150 Visa gift card giveaway!

I have a cold. Or allergies. Or something that makes me feel like the left side of my face is about to explode. Perhaps it is some sort of virus, but I won’t really know until I spend several hours Googling my symptoms and convince myself that I have a rare disease whose primary carrier is a gnat that’s indigenous to to the southwest corner of Thailand.

No, I’ve never been to Thailand.

BUT I HEAR THAT GNATS CAN FLY VERY LONG DISTANCES.

Right now my only strategy for dealing with the cold / allergies / plague is to sit here and watch Food Network and refuse to take any cold medicine. It seems like the stuff that’s supposed to make me drowsy always keeps me wide awake, and the stuff that’s supposed to keep me wide awake always makes me drowsy, but just as soon as I try to outsmart the cold medicine and take the non-drowsy stuff before bed, the cold medicine pattern that has been true throughout my adult life will bamboozle me, and the next thing you know I’ll be up at 4 in the morning ooh-ing and aaah-ing over that mineral make-up infomercial with Leann Rimes.

Clearly I’m trapped in A MEDICINAL WEB OF LIES.

Anyway, before I turn off the computer so that I can steep in my stopped-up misery, I wanted to share just a few items of note. They are, of course, completely unrelated, mainly because my eyes are burning but also because I can’t imagine what any of these things have to do with each other.

ALL HAIL THE RANDOM.

1) Several people asked me about the stuffed pork loin that I mentioned last week. I made it Thanksgiving, and it was DELICIOUS. I was actually planning on making another pork loin recipe, but then I ran into my friend Pat at the grocery store, and she changed my entire Thanksgiving meal strategy standing right there in front of the frozen bread products. Her recipe was so much less complicated than the one I’d originally chosen.

So here’s what you do.

Double-butterfly a 3-4 pound pork loin. You can find instructions online about how to double-butterfly. It’s pretty easy, actually.

Nothing like some super-vague instructions to inspire confidence, huh? (Oh, just cut it here and put the stuffing in there and bake it and IT’LL BE FINE, I PROMISE.)

Cook 1 box of Uncle Ben’s Wild Rice (original recipe). Let cool, then stir in one-half cup of chopped, dried apricots.

Salt and pepper both sides of your meat. Spread rice/apricot mixture over the surface of your pork loin. Roll up the meat and tie it with kitchen twine (I followed these instructions for assembly and cooking – just FYI). Glaze the top of the pork loin with about 1/4 cup of apricot preserves.

About midway through the cooking process, glaze the pork roast again. Cook another box (or 2) of wild rice to serve with the roast. I also made a gravy from the drippings in the roasting pan, and IT WAS DELICIOUS. When I make this recipe again, I’m going to add some chopped pecans to the rice and the apricots. Because I’m nutty like that. And also punny.

2) I really don’t think there’s a living writer I admire more than Ann Voskamp. Seriously. She is deeply, profoundly gifted, and the way she puts words and sentences together just takes my breath away. She sees God’s beauty and grace and mercy in everything – IN EVERYTHING – and He uses her to inspire so many of us to see Him more clearly.

I got to meet Ann a couple of weeks ago, and afterwards Melanie and I decided that Ann might very well be an angel among us. She is the only person I’ve ever described with the word “ethereal,” and oh, did I ever mean it. She’s just lovely.

Well.

Ann has written a book called One Thousand Gifts that comes out in January. However, the Kindle edition is hot off the presses, my friends. Or the servers, if you will. And I can’t think of a more wonderful gift – for yourself or for someone you love.

(Thanks, Angie, for the reminder!)

(And by the way, I got very tickled when I saw that the Kindle copy of Ann’s book is delivered wirelessly by Amazon Whispernet. It just seems so fitting. Because Whispernet sounds just as soothing and unobtrusive as Ann is.)

(But if I had a book on Kindle? It would be delivered by Amazon Hollernet. And it would scare you with its loud volume to the point that you would feel compelled to shush it.)

(I’M JUST SAYING.)

3) I feel compelled to publicly acknowledge that I am making significant progress in terms of catching up on this season of “30 Rock.” I have been very – dare I say “embarrassingly” – behind on my TV-watching schedule, but over the weekend I managed to watch four episodes. I have six more to go, and I believe that I can dig deep over the next few weeks and muster the determination and courage necessary to meet my TV-related goals. MOUNTAIN, MOVE OUT OF MY WAY.

I have given up on this season of “Survivor” and “Amazing Race” – there’s just not world enough and time to watch all the episodes I’ve missed – but I’m holding on to hope that “30 Rock” and I will make it. Please do not hesitate to hold me accountable. And as is always the case when I am facing a backlog of DVR’d programming, I would appreciate your prayers.

The end.

I’m still working on a post about this past weekend. So far it’s over 1600 words.

This seems a bit excessive. At least to me. But apparently I walked away from Deeper Still with a spirit of wordiness.

And then yesterday afternoon I had the distinct privilege of helping my child with a visual book report that involved drawing symbols from a book and then using those symbols to decorate a Christmas tree made from construction paper. We both cried, and I basically set a new bar for some staggeringly sub-par parenting skills. I have no idea why the recurring theme for the month of December seems to be “spiritual refining through crafts,” but it’s where we are. I ended up having to apologize to that sweet boy about four different times. Bless that tender, forgiving heart of his. He is better than I deserve.

All that to say: it’s shaping up to be a cuckoo week. Lots of real-life stuff that needs my real-time attention. So bear with me, y’all.

And by all means have a lovely Wednesday.

p.s. There’s a new $150 Visa card giveaway for The Laughing Cow that I posted this morning.

p.p.s. Last night I wrote a recap of Kay Arthur’s message at Deeper Still. You can find it over at AllAccess.

p.p.p.s. I believe that’s all.

Early this morning I sat down and made a couple of to-do lists. I like to write out my to-do lists, preferably with some form of Sharpie product, and lately, as a result of sort of an obnoxious lack of sleep, a to-do list is not an option. It’s a necessity. Otherwise I just sort of wander around aimlessly and think about all the naps I’d like to take.

Today I made a list of the afternoon’s errands, and then I made a list of a few things I need to pick up from the grocery store, and then I made a list of some links I wanted to share. You might think that it would be far more efficient to actually open up a post, type the links and then save them, but that makes way too much sense and assumes that I typically like to do things in a way that would be considered “efficient” or “streamlined.”

So I made my linky to-do list, but after tackling a couple of items I put it aside to talk to a friend about the latest round of developments in Alabama politics and college football. By the time we finished our conversation, I’d sort of forgotten about my to-do list (SHOCKING!) and moved on to other, more important matters. You know, things like reading about Prince William’s engagement and wondering if I’m completely satisfied with my cornbread recipe.

An hour or so later I picked up the to-do list since I was ready to GET CRACKIN’, and as I glanced over it I realized that I had no idea what the fifth item was. It was an abbreviation, and I could read the letters, but I couldn’t remember what they meant. Had absolutely no idea why they were significant or how I was planning to use them in a post. NO IDEA.

The letters were “M-B” – and I am not kidding when I tell you that I tried to come up with any possible configuration.

Mary Beth?

Message board?

Milton Bradley?

Megabyte?

Eventually I took my frustrations to Twitter – mainly to see if someone might say something that would jog my memory – and the responses were hilarious:

Melted butter?

Magnificent bananas?

More bell? (WELL PLAYED, I might add.)

Marsha Brady?

Marlon Brando?

Since I had real-live work to do, I had to postpone trying to solve the M-B mystery, and finally – ALMOST THREE HOURS LATER – the answer popped in my head: MYERS-BRIGGS.

I WANTED TO LINK TO A SHORT VERSION OF THE MYERS-BRIGGS.

Sweet mercy I exhaust myself.

The reason I wanted to link to the short version of the M-B is because I LOVED reading about your different personality types in the comments of the last post. I don’t take stuff like the M-B too seriously, but I do think it’s fascinating. And I have to say that knowing D’s personality type (he’s ISTJ, so we’re opposites except for the fact that we’re both borderline on the I/E scale) has helped me to understand why we react to stuff differently. He is cut and dried, black and white, right and wrong.

I, on the other hand, am basically a wet noodle who moonlights as a peacemaker.

So you can see why we’re married.

(IT’S ALL ABOUT THE BALANCE, PEOPLE.)

(If I’d married another INFP, we’d just sit around the house all day and try to avoid conflict.)

(I believe that’s called enabling.)

Anyway, if you’re at all interested in an abbreviated (but, in my experience, fairly accurate) version of the Myers-Briggs, you can find it right here. Won’t take you more than ten minutes. You can find a general analysis of your personality type right here.

And if you feel so led, come back here and share your results. Won’t that be kicky?

After all, seeing as how I nearly went crazy during the process of trying to decipher my to-do list item about the Myers-Briggs, I don’t think it’s too much for me to ask you to post your personality type in the comments. If you’re into that sort of thing, of course.

But then again, I’m an INFP, so I definitely wouldn’t want to be too pushy.

You just do whatever makes you the most comfortable.

I’d be positively mortified if I felt like you were mad at me.

It’s COMPLETELY your decision.

The end.

Yesterday morning I woke up with the song “Love Rollercoaster” on my mind. It’s one of those songs that makes me remember being a five year-old, and I think it was probably on my mind because I heard it at my cousin’s wedding reception this past weekend. It’s also one of those songs that makes me head straight for the dance floor when I hear it, only I don’t typically head for the dance floor a lot these days because, well, I hate to intimidate people with all my sah-weet moves. In fact, I try to restrict my dancing to the hip-hop dance-offs at church, where D and I are the reigning couples’ hip-hop dance champions thanks to an incredibly inventive routine set to Nelly’s remix of “You Can Call Me Al.”

I can’t even type that with a straight face, by the way.

But can you imagine what a treasure that routine would be if it actually existed?

Or the pretend remix, for that matter?

ANYWAY, since I’m apparently in Dance Fever mode, I’ve been making a mental list of songs that I love to hear when I’m near a dance floor. Which happens about once a year. Usually at a wedding. And surrounded by lots of family members who won’t mock me if I venture into Elaine Benes territory.

Also, since I’m so rarely anywhere near a dance floor, you should probably know that hearing these songs can also result in some unfortunate above-the-waist moves if I’m at a red light. Right now the little man tolerates my crazy, but give him about four years and he’ll be BEYOND HORRIFIED.

All righty. My list. In no particular order.

1) “Love Rollercoaster” – RHCP – I believe I mentioned this one. I prefer the version by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, but I’ll take the 1975 version in a pinch. For nostalgia’s sake, you understand.

2) “Hard To Handle” – Black Crowes – Might be the best group dance song ever. I’ve loved it for almost 20 years, and it never, ever gets old.

3) “Signed, Sealed, Delivered” – Stevie Wonder or Michael McDonald – I double-dog dare you to try to sit still when you hear it. DOUBLE-DOG DARE.

4) “A Little Less Conversation” – Elvis Presley – The Ocean’s 11 version is perfection. And something about this song makes me wish I knew how to dance like Ann Margret in Bye Bye, Birdie. I don’t, of course. But I can pretend.

5) “Hey Ya” – OutKast – Sweet mercy at the catchy. So fun.

6) “Brick House” – The Commodores – I remember seeing The Commodores perform this song on TV when I was little. And Ioved it instantly. It reminds me of Sister and her friend Cliff clearing out the den so that they could teach my cousin Benji how to dance. So many fun memories with this song.

7) “Groove Is In The Heart” – Deee-Lite – I wore out this cassingle when I was in college. WORE IT OUT.

8) “Love Shack” – B-52s – “TINNNNNNNNNN ROOF! RUSTED!” I can still sing every single word. You might find that sad, but I consider it my personal tribute to the music of the late 80s. It was a simpler time.

9) “Sexyback” – Justin Timberlake – Don’t judge me. You know it’s a good ‘un.

10) “Crazy In Love” – Beyonce’ – I think this song is single-handedly responsible for a resurgence in the use of horns in modern music. Granted, I’m not entirely sure that there’s been a resurgence of horns in modern music, but if there has been, then certainly we all owe Beyonce’ a very large thank-you.

11) “You Dropped The Bomb On Me” – Gap Band – This song makes me want to wear some bell bottoms and platform shoes. It almost makes me want to part my hair down the middle with some feathered wings on each side, but not even nostalgia is that powerful.

What about you? Are there any songs that are guaranteed to get you moving? Any songs that cause you to heap untold volumes of embarrassment on your children when you start to break it down in the carpool line?

Do tell.