Author Archives: Lib

Throw-Back-Monday: Way Down Yonder On The Chattahoochee

It was around Memorial Day a few years back. Two of my sisters and I headed out to the quaint little German town about an hour outside of Atlanta – Helen. I had been there once or twice before. It sort of feels like a Redneck version of Epcot. I mean pulling into town, one half expects to see Mickey and Minnie waving from a corner in their lederhosen and dirndl. So of course I love it. Next best thing to Pigeon Forge. AND you drive through Cabbage-Patch country to get there. Being a mad collector of Mattel’s adorable little adoptees as a kid, this just added to the cool factor in my book.

The village looks like something out of Heidi. Well, an American touristy version of what Heidi’s village should look.

Oh, Heidi! WIR LIEBEN DICH!

Oh, Heidi! WIR LIEBEN DICH!

German inspired, tourism with a capital T. But the cheese is what makes it so great!

A rough Hansel and Gretel getting their beer on.

A rough Hansel and Gretel getting their beer on.

Continue reading

facebooktwittergoogle_plusreddittumblr
twitter

Total-Take-Back: Kangaroo Snafu

kangaroo marc

Drunk, sober, or otherwise, there is never a good reason for a grown man to do this. (courtesy of Ms.Politico)

facebooktwittergoogle_plusreddittumblr
twitter

Throw-Back-Monday: I Won A Radio Contest

A throw-back to last Monday …

So I won tickets to see Boston. I don’t k now if it was the fact I actually won something OR the fact I’m going to see Boston OR if it’s the fact I called into a radio show which I haven’t done since I called U93 in South Bend to request Kokomo be played during its top ten heyday (kinda dated myself there a bit, huh?), but last Monday was one of the most exciting I’ve had in quite some time.

Here’s what happened: Continue reading

facebooktwittergoogle_plusreddittumblr
twitter

Throw-Back-Monday: New York, New York

Years ago I was the sole illustrator for a cool greeting card company based in Georgia. It was a fabulous job and I worked with fabulous people. As most companies in the industry would do, we found ourselves attending the National Stationary Show at the Javitz Center in New York City.

It was my first time in the Big Apple and I got to bring Clifford with. We were set up at the Marriott on Times Square. The energy was electrifying. Whatever entertainment I was seeking, New York had it. Whatever drink I desired, New York was serving it straight. And whatever food I wanted, New York was my personal chef catering to my every edible whim.

Clifford and me on Times Square.

Clifford and me on Times Square.

Continue reading

facebooktwittergoogle_plusreddittumblr
twitter

My Dad Turns 70 Today

For my Dad’s 70th birthday today, my oldest sister has written a guest post. Thanks, Karen! And Happy Birthday, Dad! We love you!

In honor of my Dad’s birthday I wanted to share the story of the Great Tomato Contest. Dad liked to have a garden every summer. Summer squash and tomatoes were always planted. I am sure that his interest in this endeavor came from his father; William B. Gross. My Grandpa Gross was an amazing gardener.

Grandpa's garden.

Grandpa’s garden.

Every summer his vegetables produced a bountiful harvest. His sweet corn stood 7 feet tall and his tomatoes were gargantuan!

Grandpa and his wicked tall corn.

Grandpa with his wicked tall corn. 

Seriously gigantic tomatoes.

Seriously gargantuan tomatoes.

They were juicy, red, five-pound monstrosities! Dad’s tomatoes were never quite the same size. If you know my family, you are aware that we are quite competitive. Obviously this has been passed down through the generations because this same competitiveness resulted in the Annual Great Tomato Contest within the family.

The contest was to see who could grow the biggest tomato of the year.

Largest tomato won the title.

Largest tomato won the title.

This was a contest taken very seriously by the competitors. Great thought and care was given the tomato plants throughout the growing season. Secret fertilizers were applied and special techniques were used to maximize the size of the tomatoes. On an assigned day, the best tomato of the crop was taken to Grandpa’s house to be measured and weighed. This contest had been going on for years with Grandpa Gross always emerging as the winner.

Finally, there came the year when Dad announced that this time he had the tomato that would win it all. On weigh-in day Dad attempted to get everyone in the car in order to be on time. He gently picked the tomato and carefully prepared it for the journey across town. Those of you that have small children know that it can be a time-consuming process to load the family into a vehicle in order to be someplace on time. Also it can be quite stressful.

With gritted teeth, Dad finally got into the front seat and began to back out of the driveway with everyone clamoring noisily in the backseat. I remember that I looked to my side out the car window and saw a reflection of our car in the house window. I thought I saw something red on the roof of the car reflected in that window, but didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to make us late.

Dad was almost giddy in anticipation of presenting his prized tomato that was going to top all others that year. We arrived at Grandpa’s house. We piled out of the car and went to see what size tomato Grandpa had grown this year. We thought Dad was behind us carrying his own tomato, but he was still at the car looking in the front seat, back seat, and trunk. He suddenly came into the house and said that he must have forgotten to bring the tomato. It was at that point that I realized that the reflection of something red on the roof of the car was actually the tomato Dad had placed there as he was herding all of us into the car.

um yeah ...

um yeah …

It was a long ride home as we pondered what might have happened to Dad’s winning tomato. There was hope that it might still be intact and could be returned to Grandpa’s house to win the contest belatedly. Unfortunately it was not to be. The tomato was found by the side of the road (not intact in case you were wondering). Grandpa Gross was the winner once again!

It has been many years since the Great Tomato Contest, but Dad still enjoys growing tomatoes every summer. Even though he never emerged the winner then, he is a winner to us and we love him. Good luck with your tomatoes this year!

The Birthday Boy with his little boy - many many (many) years ago.

The Birthday Boy with his little boy – many many (many) years ago. Happy Birthday, Dad!

facebooktwittergoogle_plusreddittumblr
twitter

Throw-Back-Monday: Circles

My dad turns 70 this week (shout out to the Old Man!) so I’ve been reminiscing a bit, going through old photos and the like when I came across some pictures from my first trip to Italy. Ahhhh, the memories!

My dad used to travel to Italy for business in my younger years. I thought he must have the greatest job in the world to be able to travel to Italy. Of course he’d always tell me travelling for business wasn’t what I thought it was and it wasn’t exactly “fun”, either (years later, I now completely understand what he meant by that statement).

I would look at his pictures dreaming of the day I could walk through Rome or sit in a café in Florence. I was even enamored of the pigeons (the ridiculous amount of disease-ridden pigeons waddling over every square inch of cobblestone streets). So when I found myself living in Arezzo one summer, my plan was to document it all like my dad had done. Full circle, if you will. I had my sketchbook, my journal and my black and white film. Yes, film. I noted everything.

I could go on and on about my adventures there, but I’ll save those for another day. What caught my eye were these little gems taken with my trusty 35mm camera.

The Roman Forum

Roman Forum

 

Roman Forum

Roman Forum

 

Roman Forum

Roman Forum

 

Roman Forum

Roman Forum

Twelve years and one trusty iphone camera later, I took this.

Roman Forum

Roman Forum

I’d created my own full circle. Circles are lovely things. They take us back to the beginning, reminding us of where we’ve been and how far we’ve come. These photos reminded me of how some things change (like resolution), and some things don’t (like ancient ruins in the center of a city). The years fly by in a blink of an eye and sometimes, with a little luck, they circle back around so we have a chance to improve the picture. Seize those moments.  They are few and far between.

What Full Circle moments have you captured over the years? Send me your  photos! I’d love to share them with the world!

 

facebooktwittergoogle_plusreddittumblr
twitter

Total-Take-Backs: Press On Nails

So I decided to do some press on nails because I am too cheap for a manicure.

1. I didn’t know I could trim them. So I looked like this.

Really. It looked like this.

Really. It looked like this.

2. One went missing when I was making dinner.

hmmm...

hmmm…

So then I had nine.

The Mystery of the Missing Nail

The Mystery of the Missing Nail

Not cool…

facebooktwittergoogle_plusreddittumblr
twitter

The Mermaids of Weeki Wachee Springs

I saw mermaids. Let me repeat – I saw mermaids. Live swimming, breathing, singing mermaids. In Florida. It was part of my SAGA quest. And it was awesome.

But let me begin at the beginning. I was in third or fourth grade when The Little Mermaid hit theaters. I remember because my elementary school’s music classes were forced to perform a Disney themed extravaganza as one of our mandatory concerts. My class was assigned the entire Little Mermaid line-up that included “Under The Sea” and “Part of Your World.”

When it was released, the Little Mermaid was the best thing since sliced bread. Disney hadn’t had a blockbuster hit (I mean Oliver & Company? Really?) for quite some  time and suddenly they had their new fair skinned, red-headed princess boasting 80’s bangs and bringing in the mega bucks. What could be better?

I hadn’t thought about mermaids pretty much since my musical debut and the animated movie’s overwhelming success (Ariel tends to be one of those Disney princesses I forget exists), till I saw a documentary about mermaids in Florida. And I am not talking about the two hour special on NatGeo or Discovery or whatever channel that tried to convince you of the physical evidence that proves mermaids exist. I saw a show on the history of a tourist trap outside of Tampa. It was tacky, but it was quaint. And above all, it was nostalgic. So it was right up my alley!

The Weeki Wachee Mermaids at Weeki Wachee Springs Park in Florida are SO worth any detour.  As I pulled into the parking lot there were mermaid sculptures on poles. Gardens in front of the gate. It was a bit chilly and sparse that day in March with winter still rearing its ugly head (yes, even in Florida), and though the park is definitely dated, I could totally envision what it looked like in its heyday. I felt like I should have been pulling into the lot in a 1950’s Continental donning a bouffant, peddle-pushers and a peplum top.

Welcome to Weeki Wachee!

Welcome to Weeki Wachee!

Continue reading

facebooktwittergoogle_plusreddittumblr
twitter

Throw-Back-Monday: An Art Garfunkel Concert Anyone?

With the headline of Paul Simon’s arrest today, I was thrown back to my college days where I had an opportunity to see Art Garfunkel in concert.

It was one of those things where I actually hesitated to go for a few reasons:

1. As weird as this may seem, I’m not really a concert goer. See, I’m not a big fan of deviation. I am the girl in the audience who wants the highly processed perfect version I play repeatedly on my system at home. I don’t want to hear new music. I bought a ticket because I bought your album. I didn’t buy a ticket because I think when it comes to all things musical , I believe you have the Midas touch. I also don’t want to hear a scat rendition of your most popular songs, either. There’s a reason the way you sang it for the album made you famous. Please don’t mess with something that made me like you.

2. The cost. The cost is crazy!!!! They are a lot of dough, particularly when you are a teenager, which is when you have time to waste and money to burn (and concerts are one of the few things that can keep you away from your folks all night long with an automatic curfew extension). But to me, that’s a hell of a lot of babysitting gigs and mowed lawns. I could see almost ten movies for the price of one concert (back in the day when my local theater cost $5 a show). They last about as long. And the Dolby Surround lets me catch every word, unlike at a concert where the deafening screams of my fellow goers muffles pretty much every word being muttered on stage. The entire thing ends up sounding like a performance by the teacher from Peanuts. So the ratio of bang to my buck is just not great enough for me.

3. The smell. Inevitably the same smells are prevalent at every concert I have ever been to. B.O., patchouli, beer, cigarettes, baby powder and CK One just don’t mix.

4. Art Garfunkel is not Paul Simon. If you had to see one or the other, I mean, c’mon?

However, regarding the one thing that always seems to matter (and tugs at my  heart strings a little, too) – Art Garfunkel had my hair. I was in.

Art being groovy.

Art being groovy.

Continue reading

facebooktwittergoogle_plusreddittumblr
twitter

Total-Take-Back: Gone With The Wind

Here’s the thing. Gone With The Wind is one of my mother’s favorite films, if not the favorite. She had the book, she had the videos and she eventually had the dvds. I saw the covers. And yes, I do judge things by their covers. I saw the guy who gets the girl embracing with the sun setting behind them and knew how the story goes. I read the synopsis on the back and it didn’t take much guesswork to fill in the gaps, let alone the ending.

Gone With The Wind

Gone With The Wind (http://web.calstatela.edu/library/mmc/100/~g3.htm)

Besides, growing up in the 80s and 90s, the phenomena that was Gone With The Wind had been around for over fifty years. It was ingrained in pop culture. Everyone knew the story of a snobby Southern Belle named Scarlett and her roguishly debonair lover/foe Rhett Butler.  Thanks to Carol Burnett, we knew she wore curtains for a dress. We knew Scarlett would “never be hungry again.” Kids on playgrounds everywhere would say, “Frankly Scarlett, I don’t give a damn” (it was a way of getting away with swearing because you were quoting a classic).

If you were aware of all of this, you were also aware of how ridiculously long the book and the film are. Like The Wizard of Oz, no need to waste your time when you knew the happily ever after.

Except there was no happily ever after. WHAT?!! Continue reading

facebooktwittergoogle_plusreddittumblr
twitter