1,000 Guns

Yay. They've taken 1,000 guns off the streets of Boston. How absolutely lovely a round number that is! How very nice and round and PR-rific is that number! There's something crooked in such an even number. But I'm sure it's better than "993!" or "Well, we really got 1,012 guns, but we only had 1,000 gift cards."

The Boston Globe wrote: The 1,000 guns, Menino said, represented ``1,000 potential lives that were saved. The firearms we received were exactly the type of firearms we wanted. They can no longer cause harm to any of Boston's residents."

What the hell does "exactly the type of firearms we wanted" mean? Are they glad the Minutemen weren't handing in their muskets? I'm reading it more like "The guns came from exactly the people we wanted," read: Dorchester and Roxbury residents. Violence is so out of control there, I am glad something, anything - however PR-stuntish and questionably impactful it is - is being done. However, what else is being done? Things are at a tipping point and the city doesn't seem to care. I mean, when the local minister decides after much thought and years of living in the community he serves to move to the suburbs because he'd rather keep his teenage son alive than make a point, there is a problem.

So, after all this, the police have run the serial numbers and identified a few of the 1,000 guns with minor crimes but no homicides. One thousand guns and not a major crime. Does that give any else a chilly feeling in their spine? I'm probably just being cynical but I can't help but think that these gun buy-back programs are like canned food drives where people reach into the back of their cabinet, skipping over the Le Sueur Early June Peas and the Chunky Chicken Corn Chowder and throw a few dented cans of chick peas toward the fight. Or any "drive" for that matter. Seems to me Menino collected a bunch of acid-washed jeans and B. U. M. equipment sweatshirts. The good stuff is still out there.

Raised on the Radio

So the day before I leave Florida, Sara calls me from an after work happy hour thing.

-Guess what?!

-What?

-I just won tickets to JOURNEY and DEF LEPPARD!

After much laughing...

-They're in town?

-Yep! And we're so going!

-Well, how can we not? I mean it's JOURNEY and DEF LEPPARD!! Didn't you and Jess just see Journey with NotStevePerry recently?

-Totally and NonStevePerry rocked! I LOVE NotStevePerry! He looks and sings just like RegularStevePerry except he's in the band!

-Awesome. Isn't that weird how I was just telling you how I heard that "now it's your turn girl to cry! nah nah nah nah nah" song and we were trying to remember the lyrics?

-Yeah. Do you think OneArmDrummer is still in Def Leppard?

-We'll he better be!

We had dinner plans with friends so we arrived late, figuring we'd miss most of Def Leppard and be there right in time for NotStevePerry. We parked at the Hard Rock Hotel and took the shuttle over to the amphitheatre and chatted with the driver.

-Has Journey come on yet?

-I think they're done. Def Leppard should be coming up now.

-Wait. What? Journey with NotStevePerry is OPENING for Def Leppard??

-Yep. They've got a new singer too.

-Different from last year?

-Yep.

-NotStevePerry Two? StevePerry 3.0? WTF?

Sara and I were really thrown over the line up. Maybe they just flipped coins or something but we thought Journey would be the headliner. But now that I think about it, there was that whole Def Leppard Summer. Maybe they are a bigger draw. Hmmm. This reminded me of the time I went to a concert where Bad Religion was OPENING for Blink 182. COME ON. I'm still mad about that.

So we missed Journey and saw all of Def Leppard. They still had OneArmDrummer and other than the singer not being able to hit the high notes anymore, they rocked the house. Much better than I expected. They had even aged well.

Sadly, I cannot say the same for the fans.

Independent

So, here I am in sunny Florida. Staying at my friend Sara's, driving around in her VW while she's at work, sodomy bunny guiding the way

What? I didn't name the bunny.

Anyway, things are good. Weather is good. Etc. Etc.

Last night after dinner we stopped by our favorite pub, The Independent. The Independent is cool in that it has all these crazy yummy beers from Belgium and the like, the place doesn't get too crowded, has a fun style and the bartenders are really nice. We drank a beer called Triple Carmeliet, made by the nuns of that order I believe as there was a picture of chicks in habits reaping in the barley or something on the front.

It's a fun place because it's pretty much populated and bartended by a bunch of locals. Put this bar in any other city and it would be beersnobby, but here in St. Pete the bartenders offer suggestions without describing the beer down to every element, you can bring your dog in with you, you can smoke if you want to. It's hip without being hipster, special without being snobby. Here are some photos from a few months ago when I was there

and check out what the beer fridge looks like

and the people. My friend Sara and some librarian chick. We know she's a librarian because, get this: People talk to each other here! I love her pose.

I don't know the dude on the left.

John K. Colleen the bartender called him and told him to come down just to tell us the story about why he cannot drink wine or champagne (don't mix John K with a $75 steak, a wine tasting, and the Sri Lankan embassy).

Some nice dude originally from Egypt.

Ralphie (some nice dude originally from New Jersey.)

Other random people

So now you get the vibe of the bar.

Last night it was not crowded and Sara and I were chatting with Kyle the bartender about sea kyaking, the Florida Keys, and him getting robbed in the Bahamas when two chicks of the South Tampa ilk come walking in. Most of you don't know what that means, but I kid you not, most women in South Tampa look, talk, and dress like Tara Reid.

Yes I can hear the collective "HOT" from my readership but when you go to an event there and there are 500 Tara Reids and all the guys look like extras from The O.C. and everyone is talking about American Idol it's rather disturbing.

Anyway, the two girls come in and the following conversation ensures:

Kyle the nice bartender: What can I get you ladies?

Chick #1: Um...I'll have a wine.

Kyle: Well, we have just a few but they're pretty good, what kind do you like?

Chick #1: Um..maybe I'll get some beer. Do you have Miller Lite?

(Sara snorts beer, I pull out my blackberry to get this down for future reference. Yes, we're snickering but I said the bartenders were snicker-free not us. heh.)

Kyle: No, I'm sorry. We mostly have specialty beers. What kind of beers do you like and I can recommend one for you?

Chick #2: Are you the owner?? (big smiles)

Kyle: No, he just left.

Chick #2: (disappointed, stops sticking out her chest so much) Hi, I'm Kaitlin.

Chick #1: Hi I'm Krissy.

Kaitlin: We just had sushi next door.

Kyle: Oh yeah?

Kaitlin: Yeah, normally we don't go drinking on a Sunday night (gives me and Sara THE EYE. We smirk and take big gulps of our non-Miller Lite) but we didn't go out last night cuz we were soooo hungover from Friday.

Kyle: Heh (hands them their beers)

Krissy: OMG, this glass is so cute!

Radio Shack

RadioShack confuses me. It's like the man nipple of the mall. Why is it there? How can they stay profitable on sales of speaker wire and 9 volt batteries? Sure, before the age of the mega electronic/entertainment/computer store it was the place to go. But not many people need to install a pair of wood-paneled shelf speakers in their airbrushed van nowadays. That place is so useless, yet somehow totally necessary.

Yeah, they've segued to mobile phones, but I'm not buying it. Either they are a mob front or one of these days all that coaxial cable is going to start sending signals from the mother ship.

Boston Pops Psychology

What's up with Dr. Phil and his wife Robin hosting the 4th of July Celebrations here? Totally random.

I don't know how I feel about Dr. Phil. His ego (or his PR machine) seems to grow exponentially by the year and his methodology is such boiled-down behaviorism the show should just be called "Hey genius, how 'bout ya just don't do that and we'll call it a day?" but I guess he does help some people.

Personally, for me it's all about ROBIN. ROBIN is the X-factor. ROBIN is all supportive wife and sideline cheerleader at the moment but you can see she resents having to double-time it down the aisle at the end of the show because her Texas-sized husband won't slow down his pace for his little wife and her manolos. I'm just waiting for her to lose it one day and pull a Kitty Dukakis.

You know, Grandma...

When I was living in Florida my sister called me upset.

"I took Grandma to her doctor's visit today."

"Was everything OK?"

"Oh yeah, shels healthy as a horse," she says.

My grandmother is 78 and other than arthritis has had no health problems. Occasionally she suffers from anxiety and panic attacks, something that runs in our family, and thankfully something I have managed to avoid. In my opinion it's more nurture than nature with the women in my family. There might be a genetic component, but really I think its about how they have learned to handle stress, which is basically to not handle it. Exercise? Do some Yoga? Talk about it in a constructive and non-bitchy way? Perhaps not marry an alcoholic? Nah. Let it fester. Eat a bowl of pasta and yap on the phone for two hours with your cousin in the same situation.

My sister was the high-strung one, the kid throwing the temper tantrums, unable to calm down, then the high-pitched teenage screaming and then the twenty-something stress. There's definitely a chemical component there -sometimes she can't calm herself down - but it's also that her tantrums were so ear-splitting that my parents backed away like she was a grenade and didn't teach her how to deal. My sister has been on a mild anti-anxiety medication every now and then but has the healthy understanding that it's something thats needed for a period of time but not forever. She's learned to deal with her stress instead of medicate it and she's learned it the hard way and on her own and is now a pretty healthy and very successful adult. I give her a lot of credit for it.

Why do so many people think stress or anxiety is wrong? Yes, there's the kind of anxiety/panic attack disorder that doesn't let you get out of bed or out of your house or take a shower, affects your life negatively in all sorts of ways and comes on for no reason. That's the kind that might take you to a doctor for a solution. But you know, I've had plenty of anxiety and stress and it's a good, natural reaction. It's helped me change bad things in my life. For example, if you can't pay your bills it's natural to have anxiety. You SHOULD have anxiety. Hopefully that anxiety will get you to fix that situation. Create a budget. Get a better-paying job, or a second job. DO SOMETHING. That's what your body is telling you: Fix the problem. Why is that seen as wrong and something to be medicated? Oh, finals are stressing me out, I need a Prozac? What the hell? Finals have been stressing people out for eons. How dare you attempt to avoid that universal experience?

So, months prior to this doctor's visit, my grandmother had had a panic attack, a bad panic attack. Probably to do with some severe illnesses in the family and her worry over it. At the time she was prescribed a light daily medication maybe Celexa or something, I can't remember, and an emergency Rx of Klonopin to be taken if another severe attack came on.

Well, apparently grandma liked the Klonopin.

"Rebecca, she took two Klonopin before we left for the doctor's! She's 4'8"! Ive never seen her like this. She was walking into the bushes!"

"What did you do?"

"Well, I had to talk to the doctor, of course."

"You narced on Grandma??"

I know this is not really funny, but cmon, how many times can one say that?

"Yes! I narced on Grandma! She lied to the doctor about how many she took and he gave her a lecture and wouldn't give her another prescription. She was pissed! And pissed at me for saying something."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes. That's not a medication you're supposed to be taking every day. So I looked her right in the eye and said:

You know, Grandma, we'd all like to take a Klonopin every day..."