I have never enjoyed that transition from Christmas to the New Year – the sudden acceleration of time just as the world has come to a peaceful slumber. Perhaps it’s because I’m not good with transitions in general, but rather than making resolution’s and celebrating a new beginning, I find myself gritting my teeth and hanging on for the ride. At least that’s the feeling I remember having – it’s been a while. For the last three years, like clockwork, I have been sick from the day after Christmas through March or April. And, not just a little sick. One year I had such a fever that the skin on my feet shed like a snake’s skin. I spent one whole January throwing up and in a state of delirium, my eyes swollen shut with conjunctivitis, so basically I had not time to be anxious or resolve anything. I just waited for spring and was thankful to lift my head again. I went to work this past year trying to combat this – losing weight, exercising, working with a team of doctors to become healthier in general in the hope that this would help. I prayed and turned my attention to doing things I loved. I backslid a bit this past November – gaining back some weight and letting the exercise slide after an autumn of biking, but I have a new elliptical machine in the cellar and have set up my bike for indoor riding and am concentrating on eating salads again. The thing is the New Year has dawned and I am healthy, not a sniffle in sight and this is pretty much a miracle. I’ve got all this extra time and it’s pretty amazing. I’m resolved to enjoy it.
My Christmas Presents
I admit it. I had shopped and wrapped, organized and shopped again, written articles, mailed Christmas cards, corralled and coerced relatives and friends into celebrating the holidays until I wasn't much in the mood to celebrate them myself. By the time Christmas Eve arrived and the family started to gather, I was hoping that Santa might stop by with a fresh dose of Christmas spirit for me. And, he did. He came in the form of two family members -- my brother John and his son Avery.
My brother John wore Christmas on his sleeve, well, his neck actually, when he arrived wearing the very ugly Christmas tie I had given him on his birthday (Dec. 12). First thing you have to know, I intended it as a joke. Not for a minute did I consider it a beautiful tie and second, my brother John is the type of guy who dresses up every holiday. On Halloween, the year after Bush ran against Al Gore, he dressed as a Hanging Chad. So the guy is unique and has a sense of humor. Thus, I couldn't quite understand why he seemed to declare my birthday gift pathetically ugly and not suitable to wear to work. Once again I professed it wasn't meant to be taken seriously. BTW, I also gave my brother an itunes gift card and some other gifts so the ugly tie was not the only birthday present he unwrapped from me. I was kind of sad that we didn't share the joke, so when he appeared at my door on Christmas Eve wearing the red sequined accessory with white wooly tip, I took it for what it was a grand overture, a homage on my behalf. It made me smile and the Christmas spirit began to slowly find it's way back.
I felt it in full force a few minutes later when my 8 year-old nephew Avery arrived with a pile of gifts. Gifts he had picked out, purchased, and wrapped himself, all with his own money. When my one niece opened hers he proclaimed "That cost $10." He gave his cousin, my nephew Christian a bag of Krullers and me, a roll of lifesavers wrapped and addressed to "Anty Bee." And, he had purchased local -- the gas station and downtown store!
I had friends who complained this holiday that the focus is too much on gifts not enough on the true meaning of Christmas. I think both my brother and my nephew gave gifts that exemplified exactly what Christmas is about -- and I don't mean ugly ties and cheap food -- they gave of themselves, they thought of others, they brought a smile to the faces of those around them, chiefly my own. They acted in the spirit of Christ and the spirit of Santa -- they showed love.
Writing Projects
I haven't been blogging much lately, but that doesn't mean I haven't been writing. I had three articles due by New Year's -- one on real estate sales, one on Rutland Regional Medical Center and one on the things we do for our pets. Each is either finished or almost so. I also had my friend Joan's (Waffles' breeders) annual Christmas letter to get out to all the people who had received puppies from her over the years and I've been working on a short story. Inspired by my work last year with the Hubbard Hall Writers' Project, I decided I needed to get some of my own writing projects out of my head and down on paper. The story isn't done yet and on the face of it isn't the most cheerful of subjects -- about a man who runs a pet crematorium -- but I think it has soul. I hope it will be one of many dog-focused stories and expect the follow-ups to be about happier themes. In the meantime, I have begun exploring the option of turning some of my photo collages into Kindle covers, I hear there's a market for them and many people have commented that my collages already remind them of book covers. My first attempt will be a collage to go along with the dog story, but I needed a Labrador model. I'm hoping to still take some more photos of some other friends dogs in the next couple of weeks to get a variety of shots to use, but one of my friends from my photography classes offered me the opportunity to take a picture of her brother's dog, Abby, who is a partial Lab. Today, I visited my friends house and got a number of shots to use for the collage in addition to this pretty portrait. I think she enjoyed modeling. When the collage and story are done I will let you all know.
Merry Christmas
Merry Christmas everyone! I know the blog has been rather silent lately. I hope to change that in the New Year, maybe before. Life has been in flux lately, lots of projects both personal and work related. And, it was nice for the pugs and I to take some time and enjoy the family today. Waffles got the tug-of-war toy that the animal communicator suggested she was craving and she and Alfie launched a tug-of-war game while the rest of us opened presents. For the moment, I just wanted to drop by, say "hi" and leave you all with this holiday photo of Alfie. Enjoy this season. We'll be talking to you soon...
Santa Claus Came to Town
I know the blog has been quiet lately, but not for the lack of things going on. I've been busy, real busy and much of it is writing and dog related. And, of course, it's almost Christmas. I have three articles to write before the holiday season is up. One of them is called Pet Love and it is for Upper Valley Life Magazine. It is about all the interesting things we do for our pets such as pet massage, training, pet Reiki and animal communication. Me and the pugs have been busy experiencing them all. I'll write more about that later and of course, you'll have to read the article, but this post is about another pet-related experience. This weekend while my nieces and nephews gathered across town in restaurants and libraries to see Santa, the pugs and I headed off to Country Animal Hospital, our local vet, dressed in elf costumes and Santa hat to see Santa for ourselves. In spite of the beginnings of a snowstorm, turn out was great with dogs and cats all making an appearance to sit on Santa's lap and have their pictures taken. The humans were awarded with cupcakes, cookies and hot cider. My elfin pugs brought smiles to the face of my vet, staff and even Santa. My niece and nephew, who had seen "a creepy Santa" at the library, wholeheartedly agreed that the pugs' Santa was closer to the real deal. I explained that Santa had to hire helpers to dress like him, but he didn't want anyone to mistake them for him, so he only hired mediocre look-a-likes. My pugs, however, seemed content with the doppelganger -- excited just to be out and about on the blustery winter's day, and, to be at the vets without having to get a shot.
My Pet Love article explores the interesting array of things we do for our pets, the reasons why we do them and the ways in which they cement the animal-human bond. Chasing two wiggling dogs down, dressing them in costumes and hats, and loading them in cars with hyper nieces and nephews may beg the question why, but I like to think I took my pugs to see Santa for the same reason so many parents take their children. It's fun, it's magical, it brings smiles to many faces and so often these aren't only the faces of the little ones.
Dog-Ma Author Interview: A Second Go-Round
Dear Readers, I am having trouble with my Internet connection tonight so I can't link back to my former reviews and interviews with Barbara. There is also a recent give-a-way that ends Thursday that I posted in my blog. If you want to learn more look back through the blog archives or check the book review link on the side of the page. And, if you haven't read the book you may want to read it. Last March I had the opportunity to interview Barbara Boswell Brunner, author of Dog-Ma: the Zen of Slobber. I had reviewed her book on this site and she was kind enough to do a Q & A about writing and her dogs including Izzy pictured below. Barbara spoke with me again recently to update readers and followers of this blog on how the process has been in promoting her book and how she is doing. Below is also an excerpt from the book. Dog lovers will surely enjoy.
Barbara's vivid and dramatic stories, told with a wicked sense of humor, will make you laugh out loud. She definitely gets what living with rescued dogs (nine of them!) is all about.
When Barbara meets her future husband, Ray, it is love-and dog-at first sight. Over the course of thirty-two years, seventeen relocations and nine dogs, their mutual love of dogs guides them on their unconventional path. The love that Barbara and Ray get in return is literally lifesaving, with one dog attacking a lethal intruder and another discovering Barbara’s cancer. Her own survival story underscores the story of how her dogs become survivors themselves.
Each new dog adds its own dynamic to the family, sometimes upending it. From Turbo (whose Spock-like ears may have provided super powers), Barbara learns about the will to live; Lexington demonstrates incredible patience and an inexplicable love of golf; Madison teaches that laughter is truly the best medicine and that the whole “nine lives thing” is not reserved just for cats; Morgan should be sainted for tolerating Izzy, who is as cute as she is bad. Barbara is certain that somewhere in doggie heaven there is a poster that says “If you are sick, injured or in need of really expensive medical care, FIND THESE HUMANS!”
Throughout 2012 and 2013, Dog-Ma has been on the Bestseller lists of Kindle, Amazon and Goodreads aswell as being named as a finalist in the 2013 Next Generation Indie Book Awards in the animal/pet category and presented with a medal at the Harvard Club in New York City - May 2013.
Buy the Book.......
Amazon.co.uk Amazon.com Barnes and Noble Kobo
Book Excerpt Chapter 1 Blood
It is everywhere. The stark white walls shimmer with droplets like a Jackson Pollock painting. My hand pulses with pain as I struggle to separate the combatants, one collar in each outstretched hand. Rivulets of red run down my arm and I am unsure if it belongs to me. I cannot, I must not fixate on it. My heart pounds until I am sure it will escape my chest; each beat pronounced and strong. My predicament is clear: let go of one and the other will perish. I must hang on and wait for calm to prevail. Breathe deeply. Show control. No, TAKE control. I try convincing myself this will all be over soon. I cannot scream; it would only exacerbate their fury.
Time slows as though the clocks have momentarily stopped. With each breath, the pain of my hand surges through my body. Morgan shakes her head and dots of red splatter onto the floor. The soft white fur surrounding Izzy’s mouth is stained with a cocktail of gore. Her blue-clouded eyes sparkle as she gazes blankly in an undetermined direction. She cannot see her intended adversary, having been robbed of vision a year earlier. Her snarls are guided by her nose; her anger guided by fear.
As my muscles strain to maintain the distance between the combatants, I hope for a reprieve. I struggle to control one hundred and twenty pounds in one hand and twenty pounds in the other, tenacity compensating for the smaller stature. Deep claret tones slowly ooze through her long white, wiry fur. I can already see her eye beginning to swell shut, like a prize-fighter on a losing day. Morgan is dripping blood. Izzy’s tooth has ripped a gash in the tender velvety lining of her ear. She shakes her head to ease the pain. If I wasn’t so damned pissed off I could appreciate the artistry of the spatter, with flow and movement as intricate as any piece of MOMA artwork.
“Leave it!” booms from around the corner. Ray extricates Izzy from my hand, gently coaxing her to settle down. Izzy’s maniacal temper has not eased, evidenced by her continued struggle for freedom. Izzy has only one mission: kill or be killed. It does not matter that the Rottweiler is six times larger or has jaws that could crush bone. She must prevail. Failure is not an option. She is a terrier.
Ray has a soothing effect. Izzy feels safe in her human dad’s arms.
They have much in common: determination, stubbornness and moxie: two peas in a pod. Where they differ is in temper. Izzy has no control over hers. When the anger switch flips in her tiny little brain, no one can turn it off. She is focused to a fault, her tantrums often triggered by the fear of her sightless world.
Morgan sighs. She is ready to be released. She quiets easily and quickly. She is a gentle giant, not a fighter. She bites only to defend herself. If her intent were to eliminate her assailant, it would happen in one quick snap of her jaw. She cannot understand why this monster was brought into our peaceful home. We were a happy family until Izzy appeared. She is the Anti-Christ. She is pure evil. Our home has become a salient battleground with opponents always vigilant, wary of the other, waiting for the first sign of war.
Finally, the opponents are separated, sent to their respective corners. Equanimity has settled in, not like a comforting blanket, but a static-filled one; on edge and ready to snap at the first sign of friction. I wonder how our family became ensnared in this violence. It wasn’t always this way.
There was a time when our home was a sanctuary of Zen-like calm, a respite from our hectic professional world. We rescued abused and abandoned animals, provided them with comforting shelter and loving care. Yet, here I sit on the kitchen floor, assessing the multitude of damage, wondering where we failed.
This is where it begins......
About the Author
Award Winning Author, Barbara Brunner grew up in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania with her parents, sister and always a dog, or two or three. She graduated Summa Cum Laude from a small women's college in Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania. Meeting her husband in Washington, DC, they continued together on a journey as self-proclaimed dog addicts. In the ensuing years, she founded three successful businesses in the Pacific Northwest and is a prolific fundraiser for breast cancer research. She and her husband are retired and now reside in Southwest Florida with two dogs and copious amounts of dog fur. She is currently working on indulging her well known flip flop addiction.
Barbara is available for book readings, autographing and speaking engagements and may be scheduled for your book or dog event.
Follow the Author...
Website, Blog, Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and Goodreads
"My inspiration for writing this book was driven by pure emotion and my desire to invite the reader to step into the journey of my utterly insane true-life stories." – Barbara Boswell Brunner, Author, dog-ma
Book Tour Dates
Author Q & A: Barbara Boswell Brunner
Welcome to Pugs & Pics Barbara. Thank you for being willing to talk to us again.
Q: It's been awhile since your book Dog-Ma: The Zen of Slobber came out, how would you say response has been? Do you have any anecdote you can share regarding your favorite comments or responses?
A: The response to the book has been wonderful and beyond my wildest dreams. My original intent was for my dad to be able to remember all of our dogs as he retreated into Alzheimer's. He lived long enough to see it published and seeing the joy in his face while holding his copy will be a memory I always treasure. After he passed, my husband and I had the daunting responsibility of cleaning out his apartment and one of the items we accidentally donated to a thrift store was dad's copy of Dog-Ma, on which I had placed a very personal cover page note for him. Several weeks later I received an email from a woman who had purchased that book, started reading it and realized what she had in her hands. Though my father lived in PA and I in FL, this book had been found by a woman visiting family in PA, who also lived in Fl, very near to me! Serendipitous. We met, found we both have a passion for dogs and rescue and have become fast friends.
Q: What is the most important thing you learned about writing and marketing a book from this experience?
A: Writing a book is the easy part, though it may not seem so at the time. Marketing is challenging and demands constant attention. It is very difficult for a self-published author to get their books out into readers hands. Social media has given us a platform and if used wisely can aid in the process. Selecting the proper channels and knowing when and how to promote is tricky. Having experienced people along the way to assist is necessary. Using experienced bloggers and book tour managers is essential and the experience is magical when it works.
Q: When I first interviewed you gave some advice about writing a memoir -- "Define the message and then tell your story." First, how would you categorize the message of your book and second how did you go about defining thins? I find this is often a challenge for my students as well as myself --what is it I am trying to convey with this story?
A: The message within Dog-Ma can be viewed on the surface that by seeing the humor in the nutty and comical things our animals do on a daily basis life becomes more fun. If you look deeper, I think the message is that no matter what these crazy animals do they must be loved and accepted and never become "throwaway animals." Adopting an animal is a lifetime commitment, not a short term "while they are cute" commitment. It breaks my heart to see senior dogs or those with challenging personalities in the shelters. If there is one message I could shout from the mountain tops it would be that. I am not sure I even thought about that message as I was writing the book. I believe it is just a part of my soul and being. So as advice to your students I would have to say that you have to have belief in what you are writing, you must become a participant in your story, feel your characters and your message will become clear.
Q: Now that sometime has passed is there anything you wished you had done differently with the book -- any story you wish you had included or left out, for example?
A: Simply, yes. Every time I reread it there are things I want to change -- things I wish I had said differently. Some of the things I wrote about offended people. They were not meant to, the stories I told were true. These things really happened to me and to my dogs. It makes me sad that some people felt hurt by my words. It was certainly not my intent. Things that I found humorous, others did not, but I suppose that is what makes the world more interesting.
Q: As someone who has lived with so many dogs what is the one piece of advice you would give to someone considering getting their first dog?
A: I recommend visiting the shelter you are going to adopt from with every family member. Visit with the dog you are adopting and make sure there is a connection. Don't adopt a dog just because it is cute or because it looks like one your Aunt Sue had. Really get to know each dog that is available. Personality is so much more important than looks. Isn't that so true in dating, as well? This animal is going to be a family member. Make sure it is a good fit so it will last for life. Don't overlook senior dogs or dogs who are specially-abled. They have just as much to offer as puppies and often come housebroken and trained. As always remember Adopt, don't Shop!
Q: I asked before and have to ask again, how is Izzy doing today?
A: Izzy is doing extremely well. For those who do not follow her on Facebook (and yes, she has more followers than me) here is a quick recap. In May, she had a very small window of opportunity to have one of her eyes operated on, in hopes of giving her some vision back. The cataract had started to become hyper-mature and if we did nothing we would have no chance of regaining vision. We had just a week to make not only the decision to have the surgery but to organize the plans to travel two hours away to have it done. The post-op care was daunting and I had to make a spreadsheet to keep track of her drops and medicines. There was something we had to do to her or give her every walking hour of the day for many weeks. However, the operation was a smashing success and she now has full vision in her right eye. She is back to her old self, playing ball, chasing geckos, and running no-stop. She just had a checkup with her eye surgeon at the end of October and were told the surgery results could not have been any better. Sadly, we lost Morgan in September to bilateral renal cancer. As much as Izzy fought with Morgan, she still mourns her. We often find her in Morgan's bed. She sniffs the cover and sighs. Sometimes she will roll around in it, but she will never sleep there. I am sure she misses her.
Q: And finally, what are you working on now? Have you begun a new book?
A: I have started two new books and cannot seem to get very far into them. Losing Morgan took us by surprise and I believe once I have been able to fully process what happened it will become the next book. Canine cancer has taken four of my dogs. I want to write about it as a cathartic exercise and be able to donate the profit to canine cancer research.
Malcolm
This past weekend we took my niece Ellie to the pet store to look at the birds. I fell in love with an umbrella cockatoo. There were many other parrots there, even another sulfur crested cockatoo, but this one seemed to be watching and interacting with me. Cooing sweet nothings, so to speak. Tonight I returned to the pet store, found the bird and tonight he was talking up a storm. He mimicked my statements of "I love you" and "You are so smart" and then even imitated my conversation with my mother. I fell in love. There was something so peaceful about looking into this bird's eyes. It felt like he knew my soul. The sign said his name is Malcolm. I hear Umbrella cockatoos can have a lot of behavioral issues. It's a good thing then I can't take him home. But it's kinda sad -- he looks like he may love me, too.
Writing Prompt: What Makes You Laugh? The Tree is Up
As a night owl, there is something about the warm glow of Christmas lights to keep me company through the night. The house grows cozier with the addition of the Christmas tree even if it is fake and pink. I consider the color of my tree a statement. For years I fought having a fake Christmas tree and then one day I stumbled upon the pink tree for sale and decided if I was to go fake I was really going to go fake -- no pretend pine for me. This one is magenta and full of ornaments that are special to me including a number of pug ornaments. I even have a pug Santa.
I put the tree up the day after Thanksgiving because my niece Ellie was here and I wanted her to have the experience of the tree. She looked at it and just laughed. What a wonderful reaction -- pure glee! I felt like I had achieved the ultimate achievement -- my candy-pink pug tree had not only elicited a smile but giggles and wide eyes. What could be better?
Writing Prompt: What makes you laugh? Write about it.
Remembering Vader, Meeting an Aquaintance
It was a dark and stormy night…well, at least a dark and really cold one. So dark that I had a difficult time finding the driveway to the home I was supposed to visit. I was on my way, my pug Waffles, in tow to conduct an interview for an upcoming article in Upper Valley Life Magazine on “pet love” -- the interesting services we will pursue for our pets. This interview was with a woman who does animal reiki and while she had provided me with her address, this time my GPS failed me. When I finally found the building, I was equally perplexed on how to get inside and nervous as I have never brought one of my pets to an interview before. Waffles had accompanied me to one of our writers’ workshops with Jon Katz and was on her best behavior then so when the interviewee suggested I bring her along and allow her to try some reiki on her I agreed.
Waffles and I roamed the perimeter of the fence, but I was unable to figure out how to open it so we eventually climbed a long snow-covered slope to the woman’s front door. No one uses the front door here in New England – never. She opened the front door and said, “I can’t believe you braved the front door!” I looked at her and immediately realized that I knew her. She had mentioned that she had once worked at the Upper Valley Humane Society, the place where I frequently took my former pug Mira for obedience classes. Vader would accompany us and everyone liked him so much they would allow him to walk around inside the class. He was old by then, 9 or 10, chubby, but not so old that he didn’t enjoy taking part in the class. I think he liked to show off to Mira that he already knew sit, and stay and come. But he also had a calming effect on some of the other dogs and he became a favorite with all the teachers and volunteers. I think we took the class four times earning four different certificates just because Mira and Vader enjoyed themselves so much and people enjoyed them. It turns out that the woman I had come to interview was one of the assistants in the class, a woman with as calming an influence as Vader. I could easily understand how she could be successful doing energy work.
No sooner had I declared “I think I know you,” then she said, “Maybe. Our you Vader’s mom?”
“Yes,” I replied and while I started to tell her he had passed, she was already saying, “Oh my gosh, I was just telling someone about him today.”
Vader and Mira had taken the last class at least four years ago. He has been dead for at least a year, but this woman not only remembered him but also had been talking about him that very day. She volunteers at a local library and one of the children there told her he had a black pug. She said she knew a black pug and told him about Vader. “Vader was quite a presence!” she said to me.
He must have made an impression for her to remember him so many years later. We conducted the interview, met one of her Lhasa apsos, had a reiki session and reminisced about Mira and Vader. To learn about the Reiki, you’ll have to read the article when it comes out (I’ll be sure to post it), but suffice it to say Waffles and I left calm and happy even though she managed to have a huge accident on the woman’s floor. She claimed not to mind and I believed her. She was a true dog person, I knew.
“Let’s keep in touch,” I said on the way out. “We dog people are our own tribe.”
“Yes,” she said. “I love being part of a pack.”
So do I especially one that shares my memories, sorrow and joy.
Seeing Lisa Marie
My first introduction to Elvis Presley was a boy in our high school, who had a glass eye, dressed in leather and must have imitated the King or maybe it was just the high neck of his leather jacket that conjured this image, but in any case I associated him with Elvis and the connection was not good.
Then somewhere around my junior year I saw Elvis’s 1969 Comeback Special and I fell in love. I made my friend Sheila watch (I don’t think she cared much for him before this) and the attraction spread. She had introduced me to Neil Diamond and Stephen King, so this was only fair. We watched that special over and over until we knew it by heart and it created a mild obsession with Elvis’ ever since.
In college we had a book named Orion, complete with a cassette recording that claimed Elvis was alive, living under the name Orion and the recording was of him singing. I visited Graceland while on a trip to the National Pug Specialty amidst Hurricane Rita. My friend Joan, who was driving, let us do a flyby tour, taking pictures at the gates, and allowing us a quick walk thru so I at least got to see Elvis’ grave.
I admit I first became obsessed with Lisa Marie Presley because of whom her father was, the fact that she was married to Michael Jackson, and that she was only a year younger than me making us peers of sorts. But as the years passed, I began to love her for who she was – she struck me as a survivor, someone striving for her own identity and staking her claim to it despite all the hype around her. My Mom was a fan of both Priscilla and Lisa Marie so it was something we shared as well. When her first album came out I bought it and then the subsequent ones. I loved watching her on Oprah, always finding her somewhat angry, somewhat nervous, but always honest and direct. I liked that.
All this is my way of introducing where Sheila and I were tonight – in White River Junction at Tupelo Musical Hall for the last night of Lisa Marie Presley’s Storm and Grace tour. I have to admit it was a surreal experience. I think perhaps because I wasn’t there so much for her music as to see her. It wasn’t just about her Dad although that was a big part of it, it was also because, like I said, I kind of identify with her and did I mention it’s really cool to see how much she looks like her dad.
I was even a little nervous to go. Would I be cool enough to be in the audience of music royalty? Honestly, this worried me, although it needn’t have. The audience consisted of your average Vermonters, many, if their age was any indication, were there because they were Elvis’ fans. Because we had never been to Tupelo before Sheila and I left early to check out the venue first before dinner. We got there around 5:30 and the town was dark. Not just the Freight House where Tupelo is, but also the whole town. “Must be because it’s a Sunday,” Sheila concluded, but the street lights weren’t even on.
We had dinner and headed back to Tupelo to find any icy driveway, limited parking and a long, long line. Someone eventually came out and told us to go wait in our cars. There had been a power outage earlier (That explained the dark town) and they were doing a sound check. We skated our way back to the car, waited for 10 minutes and returned back to the line. I needn’t have worried about looking cool. As the above pictures indicate, all that mattered was staying warm. Sheila and I huddled in our long black L.L. Bean coats looking like penguins waddling in the crowd. They eventually let us into the lobby and eventually the concert.
Lisa Marie was fascinating, skinny, tense, and entertaining all at once. Some people paid extra for a meet and greet. I settled for a t-shirt, a CD and a wonderful memory and I’m glad my best friend was there to share it.
