What do you want to be when you grow up?

Greta makes it sound so easy -- she wants to be a princess. But, I always struggle with this one, and everyone else probably does as well. Especially difficult, at least for me, is attempting to straddle the music and law worlds. Last night, I sang at an open mic with the keyboard player for Etta James. His name is Dave Mathews, and he was really cool and encouraging. Nights like these make me regret not pursuing music more seriously. But, then, the life of a musician is often a struggle. Isn't it better to juggle the stable job and fulfilling hobby (tiring as it may be)? In fact, people who are happy with their chosen professions always make me suspicious. It's human nature to want something more or different, right? Not too long ago, I found a printout that my high school guidance counselor gave me, telling me to pursue law and music. The moral is, maybe we weren't meant to be just one thing when (if) we grow up. And part of growing up is simply accepting it

Pedicures, Gs, first words, and "the new god" of youtube

Well, I managed to get a haircut today so that I look somewhat presentable for my first day back at work tomorrow. I also got a massage to relieve stress' vice-like grip on my shoulders. What did I forget? Oh yeah, a pedicure -- Greta to Mommy: "Mommy, is that babyfood on your heels?" No, dear, just old, sandpapery skin.

She really is amazing. Not quite 3, I caught her drawing the capital letter G over and over again on several sheets of paper. The first one I thought was a fluke, but when she kept doing it, I realized she must have simply taught herself how to do it. While I'm bragging, Johnny (almost 10 months) now says "mama" and "dada" -- and I think he now knows what he's saying.

But enough about real life. How about some fantasy? The best video I have seen in a long, long time captures a feigned "spontaneous" group dance number in Union Square (June '08). If this doesn't make you wish you could be free, then you are far too well-adjusted and clearly don't work for the man. And if you need some impetus to watch it, here's a comment by a youtube user: "What? Why doesn't this vid have a trillion views? It's like... the new god" Oh, so quiet

new music....

No long sob story this time, just some new music I've been enjoying. Now that I'm past the age where I can stay out late in bars and check out new bands, and now that most music labels are past the age of being viable in this digital world, I'm discovering that I'd probably would have really enjoyed being an A&R rep. Oh well!

1. Esperanza Spalding -- saw her on Leno this week. It's difficult enough to play an instrument while singing. But to play syncopated stand-up bass and sing like Ella, that's just wrong! Precious

2. Jamie Lidell -- Ok, not a new find, but I just went and saw him (for the 4th time) recently at Bimbo's. He's a British blue-eyed soul singer, but also a superb electronic musician. Here's his older hit, "Multiply" He also penned the song "A Little Bit More" featured in a Target commercial. His new album "Jim" is chock-full of classic-sounding soul songs, and is one of the best albums I've purchased in a long time.

3. The Ting Tings. I seem to like all those i-Pod commercial musicians, like Feist and CSS. This duo rocks! Have any new music to share? Discuss!Great DJ

another (funnier) prom story....

Here's my friend Patrick's prom story - a truly talented writer (he's the one hosting the adult prom on August 9. What are you doing that evening?.....):

It's a funny thing about high school. Most of us thought we were awkward, alone and nobody understood us, even the cool ones and the jocks felt like outsiders. And to be honest, I think many of us spend the rest of our lives either trying to live up to and or, moving beyond who we were in high school. In a conversation I had with my mom a few years ago, I said to her I find it difficult at times to come to grips with turning 40, because I can still remember clearly being 14. Her response was "how do you think I feel?". My mom is 77.

About high school. Well, duh. We were teenagers. Have you taken a look at them lately. Two weeks ago I spent 4 days in the company of about 100 teens and pre-teens for a show at Theater Artaud. I can say without a doubt that with the exception of maybe 2 very outgoing boys, everybody was awkward, uncool, nerdy, stupid, loud, an idiot, unfinished, young, nervous, self conscious to the point of being afraid of not the adults but each other. Ever year I get older, 44 now, I look back and realized I had not a chance with Kim Dennis, who was a senior when I asked her to my junior prom. It was my year of blackouts, because there seems to be not much I can remember during the period from when I stopped thinking she was so crazy looking with her afro/bouffant hairdo, to me realizing she was the love of my life and had to ask her out, only to be confronted with her completely transforming herself that year from bookish honor roll model student to cheerleader hottie, honor roll student. The best thing she ever did for me was to graduate a year before me. But there is still one thing that haunts me to this day. During a dance that was held at the school late one Friday night, she came to the back of the darkened cafeteria and stood with her back to me for about two songs. I was so broken, dejected, crushed that I couldn't even say a word to her. It was only when I was an adult looking back on that moment that I realize what she was doing. It is probably the singular moment that I wish I could relive. Maybe when the day comes that I see Elvis and grandma standing in a while light of peace and love shall I get a do-over.

I never went to my prom. For one, I attended a technical high school in Bridgeport, Connecticut. A school that had a 3 to 1 population when it came to boys versus girls. If you can imagine, I left high school at 6 feet 2 inches tall, weighing 135 Lbs. And this was in the days before the crack epidemic. Some of my friends even referred to me as "Bones", not the doctor from Star Trek, but just in physical appearance. But I two years after I took a friend to hers because her boyfriend who was attending law school asked me to. So, I guess I am one of the only men who ever got asked to a prom by another guy. They got married years later, had a daughter, then got divorced. All before I moved to San Francisco. Let that be a lesson to my younger self. Be careful what you wish for...

As I have gotten older I have also gotten some insights into what girls find attractive at that age. Hair. Heide Kline was voted best hair because she was one of the few natural blonds and had the Farrah Fawcett feathered hair thing going for her. Those of us with kinky short and curlies didn't have a chance, no matter how high you could pile your outdated Afro.

I attended my 20th anniversary and found Heide still looked pretty much the same, the hair a little darker, shorter and she was coping with an ex-husband who left her and a teenager daughter. He was her prom date also. Thing was, she was not a friendly person and seemed to only hang with the same gang, even though she traveled from Miami, to get there. I by the way, got the award for farthest traveled. Seems folks still live within 20 minutes of were we grew up. In all aspects of my former life, I too probably should have stayed in that area had it not been for my musical wanderlust. I mean, I had a good job working as a reporter for the third largest newspaper in the state and was saving up money through my 401K Plan to buy into a condo, maybe find a nice gal, have a kid or two and settle in for a long life in which I would check out at my desk surrounded by empty peanut shells, only to be found the next morning after my co-workers realized I wasn't sleeping, as usual...

Well, that's all been shot to pieces now. The gal and I broke up in 2001, and she has since moved back to Korea. The $13,000 in savings have all been spent in hotel rooms and gas stations during my travels to realize my dreams, settling in to San Francisco with just enough to make the down payment on my studio which I struggle to keep open each month, but been at it since 1995.

So in essence, I am trying to live the impossible dream of attending my prom and having a good time with people I want to be around and have fun with and maybe save the world while I am at it. Or just my soul.

returning to work, high school proms

It's only a few days before I go back to work, and I don't think I've ever had so much red wine in such a short amount of time! I'm sure it will be fine once I get there, but I'm worried about how Greta will adjust with the trifecta of a new preschool, a new nanny, and an absent mommy. So, in order to reduce the stress, I've taken to corresponding with a musician friend of mine, who is planning an adult prom/murder mystery night on August 9 in San Francisco. Instead of blogging about the kids, here is an excerpt of an e-mail to my friend regarding my senior prom. Oh, and no slight meant to Santa Rosa - I actually love it there now, but in high school, you know, everyone wants to escape the town they grew up in. Do you have any memorable stories about your prom? Post them in the comments so I don't feel so alone in my loserdome! Here's my prom story.....

My prom was weird -- I guess most people's are. I didn't have a boyfriend at the time. I mainly hung out with the drama and artsy crowds, but my guy friends in that group already had dates. Nobody asked me, so I ended up asking a dreadlocked skateboarder (replete with half-pipe in his backyard) to come with me. I hadn't even talked to him before, except to say "hi" in the quad at lunchtime. But I liked the way he looked, wearing those thrift store bermuda shorts and all. His image fit in with the reggae and ska I was listening to at the time. Even better was his name -- Ron Regular. True story.

Before the main event, Ron and I had several stilted phone calls, in a lame attempt to get to know each other. It didn't really work, although I did get to see him skate on the afore-mentioned half pipe -- he was pretty good. On the evening of, in an effort to break from the suburban hell that is Santa Rosa, we went to dinner in San Francisco at a place called "Squids" with my two best girlfriends and their dates. My friend Cathy's date came out of the closet shortly afterward, so needless to say, these weren't matches made in heaven. Also, whoever thought squid would combine well with an abundance of cheap liquor wasn't thinking.

After dinner, we returned to Santa Rosa in time to catch the prom's fading hours. The dancing with Ron, what little there was of it, was awkward at best. Turns out, we didn't have much in common, so I spent most of the night hanging with my girlfriends. It was our one and only date.

For years afterward, I felt like a loser (a) for having to ask someone to my prom, and (b) for asking someone I didn't and would never know. In my adulthood, whenever the topic arose, I tried to loosen up and recount my story, my inner voice reassuring me that it was "so long ago." Yet, inevitably, I'd find myself quickly changing subjects for fear that the shy gawky girl behind the confident facade would be exposed. But now that I look back on the experience, I'm thankful I wasn't one of those "lucky" girls who went with their dreamy high school sweethearts, and who happily remained in Santa Rosa to start making babies in their youth. Not that there's anything wrong with the route they took, but I'm rather grateful that the only reminder I have from my prom is the story I can (reluctantly) tell about it.