Here We Are Again

A momentous weekend of nothing in particular for the Dohs. We had painters at our house at 6:45 Saturday and Sunday, which meant that I was up, showered, and caffeined by 6:30 am and got a lot of housework done before 10 am. Although I haven't given you an update on the garden for a while, it is one of my greatest pleasures. The roses and Mexican evening primroses are almost finished and the first lilies bloomed this morning. The zinnias look like miniature fireworks. We finished the little terrace this weekend, planted some hollyhocks along the fence, and placed a ceramic bird bath with art deco designs on it with a little pot of yellow daisies. It is starting to come together after five years of hard labor.

I've also started my first furniture refinishing project - and it sucks. It's a cherry bedroom set from the 1930's. Much too modest for a style, I would say it is Mission if I had to put it in some category. So far, I've stripped and sanded the bedframe slats, the footboard, and one drawer. Only 9 more drawers, a headboard, and two dressers to go! Woohoo!

My take on Live 8:
1. London clearly got the better end of the deal. Better acts and longer concert.
2. I would have paid for a Live 8 ticket just to see the performance of Bittersweet Symphony by Richard Ashcroft and Coldplay. Although I didn't get to see the whole thing because..
3. MTV and VH1 covered the event horribly. If there was any smidgeon of doubt that music is incidental to these corporations, Live 8 removed it. Why did they interrupt every song to show us the vapid VJ banter? Did they realize that it was almost criminal to interrupt Comfortably Numb during a historic reunion of Pink Floyd to tell us that "we were watching history?" No, we're watching your sorry asses while history is being made BEHIND you.

The evolution of a generation. I watched the first LiveAid on MTV because, at 14, I was decreed too young to go. The coverage of the original event was respectful. Bands played their sets without interruption. Commercials and VJ's were limited to the time it took to set the stage between acts. Looking at the ADHD-inspired coverage this time around made me feel old.

Speaking of which, I found my first gray hair this weekend. It was glimmering like a silver fish at the bottom of a muddy creek. I plucked that little bastard and gave it to my husband, who laughed at me and gave me a hug.

Sigh.

posted by Zippy Buggleshorts @ Tuesday, July 05, 2005