It’s what it means to me

After scoring a just barely passing score on the citizenship quiz over at NewMexiKen, I was starting to maybe feel a little, well, un-American.

But then on the drive home, I got to thinking a bit. And something came across the radio that changed my mind.

It was the pre-game show for the San Francisco Giants at the St Louis Cardinals.

As you know, before each baseball game, it’s mandatory to play the national anthem. On this first of July night, in that fine midwestern town, the Star Spangled was performed by some children from a local elementary school.

And as those kids honked and wheezed their way through our nation’s anthem, the kid on cymbals at least a half beat off bombs bursting in air, the rest of the children blowing notes resembling my car horn, I felt a familiar sense of pride.

I love hearing caterwauling children shriek out the Star Spangled. I love third grade bands lumbering through the difficult tune with all the heart and gusto of Francis Scott Key himself. I both giggle and get a sense of solemnity at the same time.

Hearing those final words, “…the home of the brave”, the ump call “play ball!” and I settle back in a plastic stadium seat with a beer and a dog, that always gives me a safe, satisfied, proud feeling of being an American.

I realize that there are people living under tyranny, people who can’t get a fair election, people who don’t know where a next meal comes from because their stuff was taken by their government. Sometimes I can’t even fathom how hard that must be.

And ok, sure, I totally blew that there are 9 and not 11 justices on the Supreme Court. And ok, I muffed that senators last six and not four years….

But damnit, as we head into this Independance Day weekend, I’ll step up and say I’m as much of an American as I need to be.

I know that’s true, all because of a bunch of kids from Missouri and the magic of AM radio.

This is so me

Do you ever have those moments in life where something happens that is just *so* quintessentially you? I mean, you can’t deny it, just has “that’s totally me” written ALL over it.

This happened last evening when I came home from work. I found two packages waiting for me. Items I’d ordered separately had managed to arrive on the same day.

And it was Karen-day a’go-go.

The first item opened was this:

It’s *fabulous*. A pretty pink CZ sparkler of a cocktail ring. I loooove cocktail style rings, the bigger, brassier and more obnoxious the better. Yes! I’ll wear the rings others will eschew as “too big.”

Plus! I got this one on a killer deal. I mean, an amazing sale at an already discounted site! This thing is full of fire and pizzazz and I totally have the outfit to wear it with this weekend.

Total girl-type “squee!” action when I opened this up and slipped it on and it winked at me and fit perfectly.

So satisfying.

Then, ready to move on, I opened the other package. And it was this:

That there’s my new Buck knife. Not the first Buck knife to come into my possession, only the latest. I bought one of this same model (in gray) for The Good Man a couple birthdays ago, and have been lusting for it since. Compact, fits into that 5th pocket you got in your jeans. Small but powerful blade. Love. It!

Plus, got it in rockin’ red! Oh yeah, baby!

And as I sat there, giddy, with my new pink ring in one hand and my new Buck knife in the other, my loving husband remarked, “That’s my girl!”

That’s just Karen being Karen.

Manny being Manny

Got lost in the MJ kerfuffle, but…a repost from NewMexiKen.

“Manny Ramirez’s assignment with the Albuquerque Isotopes amounted to two games, eight innings total, four appearances at bat — two ground outs, a strike out and a walk. Big deal.”

(video from ABQJournal.com here.)

Big deal indeed. I’m still chapped he got to play any sort of professional baseball before finishing up those last 50 games suspension.

Ah well, his return means that the very red hot Juan Pierre will likely sit.

And my “I think I can” SF Giants are only seven games out of first.

Remember when the Dodger fans greeted Barry Bonds with boos, cat calls of “cheater” and hucked batteries at him? Will they do the same for their own returning cheater?

Hmm?

Oh yes indeed!

Another idea The Good Man had first, but wasn’t fast enough to capitalize on:

Shoes from a vending machine

To be fair, The Good Man’s idea was more along the lines of “you know, you should buy a bunch of cheap flip flops and leave them in all our cars….”

This after me whining, *again*, about aching feet.

I remember “back in the day” when I could wear bangin’ shoes all day long and not have trouble. Ah the continued joy of becoming a cranky old fart (it’s only getting better!).

I *totally* think that these Rollasole people could do a flip flop version too!

**this post brought to you by the girl who totally wanted to wear her Fat Babies under her wedding dress…but got veto’d down by the skinny harpies at the place who made the gown. Feh!