Ready to launch into some fiction? Although this piece will appear in Demo Tapes: Year 3 (which I’m still hoping to release in conjunction with this charity push of mine), why wait?

In Moving the Celebration, the band has to sift through the verbal diarrhea that comes with their manager. The guy’s good at what he does… he just never shuts up.

There are changes afoot for ShapeShifter. New challenges to face. Including a few they don’t know about yet…

Remember, gang, we’re doing this because I’ll be donating at least 50% of my royalties in November and December to charity. See the contests page for full details, including a link for a direct donation. I’ve got some prizes for you, if you’d like to make a difference that way.

Today’s student can be tomorrow’s Lady Gaga. Let’s make sure our kids have the chance to experience the power and beauty of music.

Need to start flashing back from the beginning? Follow this link. As each new flashback gets posted, I’m going back and including the link to the next one. By the end of October, you’ll be able to hopscotch all the way from the first to the last!

Today’s Musical Hanukkah Celebration Flashback lets us begin the look back at the 2008 posts — the third year of the Musical Hanukkah Celebration’s existence.

Since this coincided with the release of The Demo Tapes: Year 1, bigger and better was the way to go.

In Byline: Chelle LaFleur — Gearing up for Musical Hanukkah Year 3, Mitchell outlines to Chelle all the changes. There are many.

Check it out. And remember once again, I’ll be donating at least half of my royalties in November and December to charity. The contest page will tell you more.

Would you like to donate directly? Go ahead; the link’s on the contest page. I’ll be doing random drawings and giving prizes — books! — to anyone who chooses this option.

If you’d like to catch up on your history, here’s the link to the first Musical Hanukkah Flashback. From there, you can follow each flashback forward to today’s. Need to go forward, to Flashback #8? Please do!

Note from Susan: if you click on Green Hair Week, you’ll learn a little bit about Jim Shields and what happened to Mitchell. While this piece is a companion to my novel, Trevor’s Song, and will probably feature in a Demo Tapes anthology somewhere down the road, it has no spoilers for anything already in print.

“The guy just makes my skin crawl,” Mitchell said, trying to suppress the shudder. “We need to be off this tour and done with him.”

“Has he done something to offend?” JR asked.

Mitchell paused, waiting for JR’s usual verbal onslaught. It didn’t come. JR was actually, for once, quiet.

Trevor flicked his cigarette from the corner of his mouth onto the ground. He didn’t bother to grind it dead. “What the fuck does it matter? The guy’s a fucking powder keg. Up one minute, down the next. All in our faces about shit we can’t control, then making like he’s our best friend.”

“He’s too volatile,” Eric said, nodding.

Mitchell thought about that for a second, then nodded. Perfect way to describe the dick. Volatile.

“Backstage is a powder keg,” the guitarist went on. “We all hate being there. C’mon, JR. There’s got to be a way to get us off this tour. Daniel and M here say you’re getting all sorts of offers for us to open for better acts. I think you need to take a longer look at some of them, even if it means we take a break.”

“It hasn’t all been bad with Jim,” the manager said. “You had a nice long break in Phoenix and it turned out to benefit you quite well”

“My hair turned green,” Mitchell said. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the manager until JR shut up.

“But the break refreshed you. It taught me and your booking agents quite a bit that we’ll be discussing once it’s your turn to headline but for now, you’re not quite ready to headline, so it’s all opening acts for you still and really, Jim Shields isn’t that bad of a guy Why can’t you just finish up this tour like we’ve planned It’s really not that much longer”

“Because,” Trevor said, taking his time as he lit up a new cigarette. It was for effect, Mitchell could tell. Hell, most of Trevor’s cigarettes were for effect. His own bad boy version of being demure. Or something.

“I need more of a reason than that, Trevor. You have a contract with Jim You signed it and were perfectly happy to You were excited, even, and so was I This was going to be a good thing, bringing you new fans and getting you into cities you’d never visited before.”

“Because,” Mitchell growled, “if you don’t get us away from that asshole, I’m going to shove his microphone stand up his ass and make it come out his mouth. I don’t give a shit about contracts or opportunities or anything like that. I care about not being yanked around by this asshole anymore.”

He was aware of everyone around him cringing, of his voice rising, of the pressure in his cheeks that meant his face had turned red. Trevor would probably tell him later that viens had popped. He didn’t care. Didn’t care about any of it. He’d had enough. The band had had enough. It had nothing to do with his fucking green hair and everything to do with unstable dickhead Jim Shields. This is what it had come down to. It was a matter of survival, no matter how fucking dramatic that sounded. No one could live like Jim was making them live.

Mitchell would be damned if ShapeShifter was going to have to keep trying.

Yup, this is a Three Word Wednesday prompt: demure, offend, volatile. And I’ll link it at The Weekend Writer’s Retreat, also. AND at Friday Flash. AND Sunday Scribblings. That might be all, but who knows? I do like to increase my fan base!

2007’s Musical Hanukkah Celebration turned into The Year of Springer, didn’t it?

You guys claimed you liked him. Heck, I like him. He’s a good egg, and I’m all about good eggs.

This was our final post from the 2007 Celebration. And yep, you guessed it: it features Springer. This is called The Day After, and that’s exactly what it is. Go read it and you’ll understand more.

And now for our usual reminder… we’re doing this to bring you guys up to speed before November and December hit. During those months, at least 50% of my royalties will go to charity. Mark your calendars so you remember to buy a book or three! Books make great gifts and yep, it’s about that time of year to start thinking of this stuff…

If you’d like to start at the beginning of the Flashbacks — and at the beginning of the celebration — you’ve got a grand idea. Would you like to see what comes next? C’mon. You know you do.

Be part of something big. Musical Hanukkah 2010.

Man, what a busy day yesterday turned into. That means you’ll need to move fast to get over to Suzan Harden’s blog, Wild, Wicked, and Wacky. I did a three-question interview you’ll want to check out — and am giving some goodies away, as well.

Hurry, though. The entry deadline for the goodies is tomorrow. Thursday. The sixteenth.

Now, I’m not the world’s hugest Queen fan, and I totally didn’t get the significance of Queen with Paul Rodgers.

That doesn’t mean the idea of a behind-the-scenes book about the pairing doesn’t get me all excited. Especially after these three I mentioned last time. And after the fact that Iron Maiden somehow inspired this post (and gave us Wardrobe Girl), I think it’s fairly well established that if it’s about rock and roll, I can pull inspiration from it.

(Then again, this particular oldie was NOT inspired by rock and roll but by my very own grocery store. So who really knows what’ll inspire me — and when. Maybe I should instead say that by reading all these nonfiction rock books, I’m picking up the details that fill in the cracks of my own music industry background and allow you guys, my readers, to live and breathe this world with me as accurately as possible.)

Anyway, here’s the latest book: Rockmos!

Only 111 are going to be printed. Boo for me and the hopes of getting a review copy. A small percentage is going to be donated to charity (nothing like what I’ll be doing in November and December this year!), and all prices that I’ve seen aren’t in US dollars.

Still, I can covet…

And just like that, the 2007 Musical Hanukkah Celebration was over! Before we leave it behind, though, here’s a Thursday Thirteen recapping the night’s success.

Yeah, I’d LOVE to see this sort of success happen for our real-life charity. But I’m not as big as my fictional band (yet).

That’s why YOUR support for my fundraising endeavor is so very important. Picking up my books or making a direct donation (use the link above to get there!) will help. Like the band says later on, this is about letting us little guys see the difference even five bucks can make. (And this is where I remind you e-book lovers that Trevor’s Song is only $4.99 at Smashwords!)

If you can wait until November or December to buy a book, that’s best. But if you need to buy it now, go for it. Your support NOW will help me donate more than 50% of my royalties in November and December. I’ll explain how later on. It’s all about covering expenses and all that icky financial stuff.

Need to go back to the first flashback? Move ahead to the next one?

This fourth flashback is one pulled from real life. Not mine; I’ve never been hit by a cop. But someone I know. It seemed like the perfect thing to happen to poor Springer.

Go back and read it for yourself, why don’tcha?

And remember, in November and December, as part of this year’s Musical Hanukkah Celebration — the fifth! — I’ll be donating at least 50% of my royalties to charity. Read more about it via this link.

Don’t forget to leave some comments. Here or on the flashback posts; they are all welcome!*

Need to go back to the first flashback? Or move forward to the next?

*Spammers need not apply

“Mom,” my son said that day. “When I bring my trombone to school this year, will you drive me? There’s not enough room in our seat on the bus for it.”

I raised my eyebrows at my son. My first-born. “I thought there were only two of you in the seat.”

“There are,” he said, so earnest I could have died. My kid’s loaded with charm-in-waiting. It needs to be properly unlocked and groomed. “But Bernardo’s backpack is so big, it’s like there’s three of us in the seat. Once we add my trombone and our winter coats, well, he already sticks out into the aisle.”

“Why’s his backpack so big?” I ask my son, giving him a sidelong look. After all, my son has brought home exactly one textbook so far this year. One.

My son shrugged.

“You don’t think he stuffed a dead body in it, do you?” I asked.

All that gorgeous robust color drained from his face. “I… don’t … think so.”

I leaned in to whisper, “Does it smell?”

“No!”

“Then there’s probably no dead body in there. But what else could be in there?”

What followed was a feast of the imagination. An inflatable raft. A fold-up bike. Rabbits, multiplying. But no books. No textbooks. Certainly no papers that had fallen to the bottom and jammed up the works; it was only the third day of school.

“A first-aid kit! Lunch! A little school bus that magically grows to the right size when it’s pulled out, just in case he misses the bus! A monster! A giant stomach that will eat the bus seat if it escapes! An operating table!”

On and on we went. I’m sure that no matter how hard we try, we’ll never figure it out.

“You know,” I drawled after awhile, when our ideas had started to run low. “We could ask Bernardo what he’s got in there.”

“Mom,” my super son said, “what’s the fun in that?”

Believe it or not, this really is fiction. Based on real life. Maybe. Perhaps. I’m not telling. At any rate, it’s a Three Word Wednesday piece, and I’ll hook it up for my Friday Flash as well as link it over at the Weekend Writer’s Retreat. It fits over at Sunday Scribblings, too! Be sure to stop in all those sites and check out more good fiction!

I’m typing this with a cat on my lap, so please ignore any typos. I should mention I’m also using a laptop. And I’m short. That means not a lot of real estate for a cat AND a computer.

Welcome to my life.

Let’s focus on what really matters around here. No, not more griping from me. Books!

First up is the new one from Nikki Sixx, who sorta pissed me off by saying he didn’t want The Heroin Diaries to become a PSA for suburban housewives. I’m a writer, thankyouverymuch, even if I am home all day long and live in the suburbs of Mars. And besides, Nikki, you wrote a book I related to. Bite me.

His book, once the biting is over, is called This is Gonna Hurt. It’s a memoir. It’s a photo gallery. It’s Nikki and it’s gonna be all-around cool. I hope.

And yes, it’ll have a soundtrack from Sixx AM. I hope you guys remember how much I liked the soundtrack to The Heroin Diaries. If not, here’s a link to some thoughts on the subject from Chelle.

Not enough real-life rock and roll for you? I know. I don’t delve into it here on the Meet and Greet nearly often enough. I’m making up for it today, I suppose.

Next up is I’m in the Band, written by the ultra-gorgeous (or so I perceived her when in my 20s and seeing White Zombie for the first and only time. Only? Hmm. Maybe not…) Sean Yseult. Yes, Sean’s a woman. And she’s compiled ELEVEN years of tour diaries into this one book. I’m in heaven, and not just because of the Spinal Tap reference there. Sean’s diaries went to eleven, everyone!

STILL not enough?

Yeah, for me, either. So now let’s move on to Corey Taylor. Maybe you’ve heard of his band, Stone Sour. Or that other side project he’s got. I think it’s called something like Slipknot. His book is called The Seven Deadly Sins, and it talks about the WILD years with Slipknot. This is a Susan Must Have book.

Hell, all three of them are.

So… if you’ve got connections or are in the know or what have you, why not send your favorite rock and roll writer a review copy? I’d be glad to read and review it over at Rocks ‘n Reads, where all the cool book reviews hang out…

(Damn. Only one of the three has a buy link up at Powells.com. C’mon, publicists! I NEED these books! And no, I can’t buy them myself. Seen my royalty checks lately???)

Today’s flashback to the Musical Hanukkah Celebration takes us back to 2007 once more. It’s a Thursday Thirteen post from the days when Thirteening was an Internet phenomenon. I truly miss those days, you know.

The idea of the post was to give readers — most of whom only stopped in on Thursdays — a background into the event. That in and of itself makes for the perfect flashback.

Stop in and refresh your memory. Mark your calendars for November 1, which is the start of the two-month period during which at least 50% of the royalties I earn will go to charity. Want to know more about THAT? Check it all out here.

If you can’t wait until November 1 (because books make great gifts!), that’s great, too. Go buy a book or three now and I’ll be able to donate more than 50% to charity come January 1.

Need to go back to the first flashback? Or move forward to the next?

This actually took place a week ago, but I’ve been so blown over by the experience, it’s taken me this long to get my thoughts down.

I don’t remember how it happened, only that it was March or April of this year when I realized that one of the authors I follow on Twitter is a local man. Mitchell James Kaplan. He was mentioning appearances he’d be doing around the city … and dammit, I couldn’t get to a single one.

He’d written a book: By Fire, By Water. It’s a historical novel, set in the time of the Spanish Inquisition. And it’s about Conversos and Jews and Christians and Columbus and real people and some fictional ones…

By Fire, By Water sounded PERFECT for my book club.

So I pitched it to them. I suggested we read it sooner rather than later (we’ve got over a year’s worth of books waiting to be read) so that we could invite Mitchell to join us.

He did.

This was the first time we’ve had an author visit us. We’ve gone to hear Rochelle Krich speak at the Mystery Lover’s Bookshop, and we’ve had India Edghill call in, but I’ve never given up my spot on the loveseat for an author.

Let me tell you, Mitchell is a delight. He’s SO FUCKING KNOWLEDGEABLE, it’s a week later and I’m still letting what he had to say sink in. He’s soft spoken and smart as a whip. A gentle soul, too — the sort who always intimidate me, the force of nature that I am. He’s led a really neat life up to this point; it really puts my own self-perception to shame.

And the book? I’d heard from some online reviews that it started slowly. One had even said it never picked up.

While I found the first ten pages to be a bit tough going, I also found them filled with lovely sentences. (One of my book club members ran off with my copy of the book or I’d list some here). Just gorgeous writing, stuff I hadn’t expected from an ex-screenwriter.

But then I stopped focusing on the writing and let the story suck me in. It’s a great story, broad in its ambition. By Fire, By Water isn’t just a phrase used in the upcoming High Holiday services, it describes this book, too. The silversmith’s forge. The inquisition and the burning of a character at the stake. And the subplot of Christopher Columbus. Fire. Water.

If you’re in a book club, I suggest you read this and see if Mitchell can Skype or Webcam in to visit with you guys. If you’re in the Pittsburgh area (or near enough to make the road trip worthwhile), go see him. If you’re out of the area, why not see if you can work out something with your local bookstore, to make a visit from him worth everyone’s time and energy?

And the rest of you, go read this book. Here’s a buy link to Powell’s. Mystery Lovers’ Bookshop might have some autographed copies left. Why not ask?

Now, what you all thinkin’? No, not you boys and girls here in our city. Them boys and girls Philly way. They must not got brains up there in the city of freedom ‘n all, ’cause otherwise, why else would they be so stupid as to throw their beer bottles — and I hear tell not all of ’ems empty, either — at Jim Shields?

Folks, you know what that Jim Shields does when things come flying outta the air, aimed in his direction. He done the same thing, over and over, for years.

It ain’t funny. It ain’t cool. Those riots after he throws the microphone down and storms off the stage? It’s only a matter of time before someone falls down and gets themselves all tramped to death. And then all everyone can talk about is the negative: how rude Jim’s fans are and how uncouth and how they all ought to be put to death and they hope Jim himself will fall off the face of the Earth and…

Really, boys and girls. Let’s put our hands on our knees and hold ’em still a minute. Stop and put your brains into that there ON position. I know that spot scares some-a ya, but if you can’t make yourself do it just this once, there ain’t no hope for humanity that old Chelle here can see.

This garbage has gone on for years. It’s the same each time. Some idiot thinks it’ll be funny to get under that thin surface-a Jim’s skin. The first bottle flies. Jim warns y’all. Someone else decides to go for it. ‘Cause it’s funny to watch Jim’s face go red and it’s cool when the music — which you paid a pretty penny to hear, mind you — stops.

And when that second bottle, or the third, or however many it takes afore Jim sees it, when that bottle catches his eye, it’s so funny to watch him try to break his his microphone when he throws it afore he stomps off stage.

Now, it’s true that Chelle’s seen toddlers act with more class than Jim Shields shows. But today only, we not talkin’ ’bout Jim. We talking about you. And how it only takes one idiot bottle thrower to ruin an expensive night for thousands. You really think Jim’s gonna come back Philly’s way again so soon? Not when this is the third time in a row this garbage has gone down, boys and girls.

Seems to me some folk need a field trip down to the Liberty Bell so’s they can learn what freedom really means. It don’t mean bein’ able to throw bottles at a guy who’s playin’ music so you can kick back and rock out. Freedom means somethin’ far from that.

You heard it first and you heard it here: it’s about the music, not the tantrums. Leave poor Jim alone already.

Yeah, I suppose I ought to apologize to the people of Philadelphia for smearing them so badly in this piece. But… c’mon. They’re in Philly. As most of you know, West of Mars is outside of Pittsburgh. There’s that cross-state rivalry and all.

And yes, this IS based on some real-life antics of a certain star who’s been known to cause riots when the bottle rockets start flying…

Yep, that was year one I linked to the other day. One lowly post.

Not so for the second year of the Musical Hanukkah Celebration! I introduced a new character, Springer, and shared more of the inner workings from the band with you.

If you can find something that ushered in 2007 Hanukkah Celebration before this post did, show me the link and I’ll stand (very publicly) corrected. In the meantime, since I believe this is the first post from the 2007 Celebration, I’ll share it with you today.

This is the post that saw Springer come into the world. Thirty Bucks, I called it.

(reminder! At least 50% of all royalties I earn in November and December will go toward charity. The good news is that if you buy before November, you’ll help bump that percentage up anyway!)

Need to go back to the first flashback? Or move forward to the next?

Yes, I promise to have some actual content here for you soon. In the meantime, once you’re done refreshing your memory about Musical Hanukkah Celebrations Past, head over to Darcia Helle’s blog, A Word Please.

I’ve dropped in for an interview. And there’s a picture of me, too! (wearing one of my all-time favorite t-shirts. AND with makeup on! Woot!)

I know, I know. The first night of Hanukkah isn’t until December 1 and that’s still three months away.

BUT.

This year’s Musical Hanukkah Celebration is shaping up around here to be the biggest and best yet. Not only will ShapeShifter be playing, but so will some familiar faces. I’m hoping to have a really amazing t-shirt for you (hopefully designed by my good friend Lakota Phillips) and maybe, just maybe Demo Tapes: Year 3.

Since many of you are new around here, or may have merely forgotten, for the next two months, I’ll be posting flashback links for you. Whether it’s your first visit or your eighth, come join in the miracle of Hanukkah — ShapeShifter style.

Reminder: at least 50% of my royalties in November and December will be donated to charity. The more books I sell, the higher that percentage will go!

Here’s today’s flashback link. Give it up for Chelle LaFleur and the post that started this whole thing off, back in 2006.

Want to read in order? Here’s the link to Flashback #2.

… and so the promo for Trevor’s Song begins! I’m hanging out at Alice Audrey’s blog today, talking about Trevor and why we all like him so much.

There’s a giveaway with a catch, as well… stop in and see what I mean.

In the meantime, I’m still trying to settle into the school year and get my thoughts in order. Much to share with you guys this week!

Note from Susan: If you were here a year ago, you may remember our Wardrobe Girl, Loren. I actually have other fiction I wrote right after I wrote that one, but never posted. We’ll have to fix that. In the meantime, here’s something to keep you entertained.

Before tonight, Loren would have told you she didn’t have a prayer of fitting in with this crowd. They didn’t like chicks in the first place, let alone girls like her who were on the road to hide from something. Maybe — hopefully, although Loren wasn’t sure if there was hope anymore — heal a bit.

Maybe she’d been wrong to hold herself back, to abstain. From the fun, the camaraderie, the deep, dark nights spent drinking and swapping tales as the bus rolled them toward another city they’d never get to see.

But now here she was, proudly wearing the halo they’d made her from those plastic things that went around six packs of beer and soda. She wasn’t drinking, but then, neither was Roberta. A woman shouldn’t drink too much on the road, Roberta often told her. Especially with roadies like Monkey around, even though he wasn’t part of this current group. Nope, this was RP, Hambone, RP’s girlfriend Maureen, and a couple others whose names Loren couldn’t remember. She knew their faces, though. They were all young, like her. They’d chosen the road instead of anything else — college hadn’t been an option for most of them. Not like it had been for Loren.

Who knew; maybe it was still an option for Loren. She wasn’t ready to think like that yet. Heck, it was hard enough just being here with a group of people, watching them drink and listening to them talk.
Wearing their halo and smiling as they sounded like they meant it when they said they were glad she wasn’t locked away in her bunk or sitting in a corner, staring at the walls. “You’re too mopey,” they told her. “Smile.”

She’d been hearing that a lot from the crew lately. Even from the band. Smile. Like there was anything to smile for. Or at.

Hambone told a joke and everyone cracked up. RP tipped over backward and Maureen and Hambone pulled him up, laughing even harder. Loren watched and, for the first time since she’d joined the tour, didn’t feel like they were laughing at her. She didn’t feel quite so raw inside.

Roberta caught Loren’s eye and nodded knowingly.

Loren had to touch her face to realize she was smiling, too.

And then her halo slipped down over one eye. She heard herself laugh.

Ready for this week’s links to prompt sites? Here ya go… Three Word Wednesday, Thursday Tales, and Friday Flash. And let’s not forget Weekend Writer’s Retreat, too!

We actually got back from vacation last Friday. Where’ve I been? Why am I hiding Trevor from you?

Well, I’m not hiding Trevor. You can buy him in print and e-book form. He makes a great gift.

However, me… yeah, I’ve been hiding. I’ve been spending the last few days of summer vacation with my kids. I’ve been processing what turned into an interesting vacation and since it’s about what happened in my personal life, no, I won’t be talking about it here. This isn’t a place that’s about me. This place is supposed to be about my fiction and I’ve replaced the fiction with myself way too much of late.

Some things on the horizon:
A HUGE blow-out for the Musical Hanukkah Celebration this year.
I’d like to get Demo Tapes 3 ready to release in conjunction with the Musical Hanukkah Celebration (I told you I was going big!), but I’m not entirely certain I can.

And some behind-the-scenes stuff:
Better networking to bring in new converts to the Trevolution
More help at Win a Book. I love its success, but it’s starting to eat up too much of my time.

and other stuff, too. Cross your fingers that I can pull it off.

But for now, I’m off to check out the Three Word Wednesday prompt and, as my kids head off on the big yellow bus tomorrow, getting back into the swing of things. I’ve missed this place. Hope you’ve missed me, too.

Yeah, so the Boy Band and I went down to the new Consol Energy Center today. If you follow me on Facebook (and you should!), you might have seen my status updates as the signs downtown changed. This is new, it’s exciting, it’s wonderful. Having a new venue in the city, where hopefully more bands will stop in and perform inside of…

Oh, yeah. Hockey. And man, does the ice look GOOD.

Walking into the Consol, I expected it to be all stiff and shiny. Almost overwhelming in its pomp and ceremony.

HA.

It was like slipping into a boyfriend’s shirt. The Boy Band and I agreed it was like coming home.

We wandered around. Holy smoke, the food prices! I thought they were bad last year, but NINE BUCKS FOR A PIZZA???? Hello, Consol and Pizza Hut people… I can get a pizza that feeds six of us for ten bucks. At the POOL. (and it’s good!)

Yeah. At four bucks for a bag of popcorn, even, I’ll be doing most of my eating at home, thankyouverymuch. What the heck; it’s healthier in the long run (although there is a fruit plate that’s priced at … ready? Six bucks!).

We went up to our seats (or what we think are our seats; we could only remember the section number and seat numbers, not the row.) — yes, as I’d feared, we are further back from the ice than we had been in the Igloo. But I gotta say it now: the sight lines are fantastic. I don’t think the players will be the tiny ants I was expecting them to be. If I can’t be ON the bench — not behind the bench, not in the first row behind the glass, but ON the bench. Butt on bench with the players — I want to be right where we are.

And the seats! Oh, I think the Tour Manager is going to be very happy with them. I know I was. They have great lumbar support and I suspect they’ll be great for doing multiple overtimes in once the playoffs come (me? Optimistic much? Nah.).

The women’s room at the top of our section has more than three stalls! Of course, this means less to joke about as we wait in line, but…

I was surprised to see that the toilets don’t have automatic flush. And that the faucets in the sink have those annoying water-wasters where you push the lever and can’t adjust the hot or cold or how long it’s on. And this is a LEED-certified building? At the highest level??? Sheesh. I thought the water would NEVER shut off.

Then the Boy Band and I wandered down to the club level, where a few of the boxes were open for inspection (we went into all the hoity-toity areas, in fact. I figure it’s the only time we’ll ever do it, so why not???). They are quite lovely and that private bathroom is something to covet. But the seats?

Yeah, they’re leather. They’re high-backed.

And after two minutes, they made my back hurt. I can’t imagine spending an entire game in them.

I’ll stick with the unwashed masses, thanks. Even if access to what they’re calling the Upper Bowl is confusing, limited, and probably a guaranteed death if we ever have to evacuate fast. That was probably my biggest complaint — but it’s also possible that once we learn our way around, we’ll find better ways up and down from the ground floor.

So now all we need is to wait for that puck to drop… I’ll be there with one or the other of my boys. I can’t wait.

In the meantime, I’m taking off for a few days R&R down at the beach. We’ll be back this time next week or thereabouts. You guys behave, peruse the archives here (can you say Musical Hanukkah Celebration? I’m already laying plans for the biggest and best yet), and buy my books. I got hockey tickets to pay off.