My friend and I only talked for about 2 minutes, so I stood there to finish my cigarette and daydream (my feet were tingly, I was very relaxed, and it was a beautiful day). Shortly, I noticed a young man on a bicycle. He approached me and asked, “Could you spare a cigarette?”

Me, sort of dumbfounded, “Uh, sure, yes.” I reached into my purse to give him one. Rather than leave on his bicycle, he continued, “Do you know if there are any shelters around here?” as he motioned in the direction of the apartments across from Wendy’s.

I told him that I didn’t know of any assistance programs in this area, and asked, “Why do you need a shelter? Where are your parents?”

“My name is Nathan”, he proffered a handshake, and I accepted it with reservation. “I moved here from California with my girlfriend after being dishonorably discharged from the Marines.” He looked down, then looked me in the eye, “I wouldn’t follow orders, and the Marines don’t tolerate disobedience.”

He continued his story, “My mom is (I can’t remember now) and my dad is incarcerated in the State of California. My girlfriend (I can’t remember that now either) and we were evicted from our apartment. I don’t have any place to stay. I’m going for a job interview at Wendy’s at 3:30.”

I apologized for not knowing any sort of community organizations to help him, but I told him, “I’ve only got a small bit of cash, and you can have these ($4 and 4 cigarettes). I’m sorry I only know how to rescue dogs. Here’s my card if you need any other help” and I gave him one of my newly-printed cards with my phone number on it.

Something about Nathan made me care and want to help him. I’ve thought about him several times since then, but since I hadn’t heard from him, I just hoped he was OK.

At 2:04 today I got a phone call from a local number, but it was unfamiliar to me. It was Nathan calling from the In-Town Suites Extended Stay nearby.

I asked, “How are you Nathan? Did you get the job at Wendy’s?”

He replied, “Yes, I did, and I start work tomorrow.”

Me, “Where have you been staying?”

Nathan, “I’m at this hotel, and I asked if I could use the phone to call you, but I’ve been sleeping at The Park.”

Me, “Have you eaten?”

Nathan, “Yes, I ate last night…”

Me, “Well, I just put a frozen pizza in the oven. How about I bring you some?”

Nathan, “How long do you think it will take?”

I told him that I’d just heated the oven, so it was going to take me at least an hour to meet him at The Park.

I cut the pizza (after eating 3 tiny pieces myself) wrapped it in foil, then started thinking, “What else do we have on-hand here that he could eat?”

I scrounged through our cupboards and made a care-package of Uncle Ben’s Ready Rice, a foil-pack of tuna, the 3 applesauce packs in the fridge, some of the plastic utensils and napkins I keep in the kitchen-drawer, a pack of cigarettes, and my last $20.

As I was getting these things together, I realized that I was alone, and I didn’t have anyone to go with me to meet him.

I thought about stopping at the City Police Station, but I didn’t/don’t want to get him into trouble with the law. All I could think about was the real-life nightmare that my family lived through not so long ago.

Since it was daylight, I decided to forgo the police and take a spin over to the park to look for Nathan. As I entered the big parking lot on The Parkway, a City Police cruiser pulled in behind me and followed me. I felt relief to know the police routinely patrol the park. Since I didn’t see Nathan, I went back around the “block” again. I reentered the parking lot about 10 minutes later, and there he was.

He had a big smile on his face once he recognized me. I lifted the bag out of my partially-lowered window (my purse beneath my legs, phone in my pocket, and the doors locked). As he took the bag, I told him, “Next time, I’ll meet you at Zaxby’s and treat you to a good meal.” Nathan looked cold, but he wore jacket. I was relieved about that because I was looking for something to keep him warm at night and couldn’t find anything in our closets.

Nathan smiled and said, “Thank you.”

I watched out of my rear-view mirror as he disappeared back into a wooded area of the park, and I drove back home.

Anyway, I’m sitting in this stinky room, awake too soon because one of the drapery hooks is off the rod.  Sunlight hit my eyes at around 6:30 this morning.  I tried to turn over to avoid the light, but then I had to pee.  I tried to keep my eyes half-shut and stumble into the bathroom, but they opened on me.  I am awake.  Too early.

I got some breakfast and lots of coffee.  I’m on a carb overload as of now.  I will regret that too, later on today.  

So, as I was Twittering my friends about meeting up in Sante Fe for TequilaCon ‘09 , I began thinking about last year’s big bash in Philadelphia (home of Hall and Oates) and Lisa’s neck of the woods.  Michael and I arrived in NY from Singapore May 1, stayed the night in NY, then drove down to Philly.  TequilaCon ‘08 was the first thing we did as repatriated Americans.  

We’ve been repatriated almost a year, and the year has flown by!  The opportunity to actually meet these on-line friends IRL (in real life) is so cool!  I am a very lucky lady, I know that and am very grateful.  I am missing Lisa right now, but I know she’s with us and wanting us to have a blast.

I will Twitter about stuff that I think is cool, and I’ll try to post here before the big BeerHer bash tonight.

Right now, I need a shower, but I will wait to wash my hair until I get to Sante Fe. This room stinks.  I am an idiot.

John Oates at soundcheck Charlie's far-right

We arrived at Chastain Park  at 4:00 at the will-call window to meet David Brunetto, a rep for Hall & Oates.  He took us into the venue for soundcheck with John and the band (apparently, Daryl does not do soundcheck).  When the band was finished with soundcheck, it was time for us to get to meet John. 

We planned on getting our passes autographed, and  I’d brought a pad of nice paper for him to sign, but at the last second Michael said, “Hell, just ask him to autograph your shirt!”  Holy moly, why hadn’t I thought of that?  Thank goodness he was with me to keep me from passing out!  I was shaking like a leaf and felt like a doofus, but John was very laid-back and friendly.  Whew! 

After meeting John, we got to go on stage and I could finally see up close and personal, Charlie DeChant’s saxophones and flute.  OMG! OMG! I’ve been playing along with him on my saxophone forEVER!  I love, love, love Charlie!  

Once I’d finished ogling his equipment (Hey, Hey, Hey! You  ol’ horn dogs! Stay with me here!) I checked out the tour bus for the crew.  Michael stayed outside and took pics of the stupid geese on the pond.  ;-)

We ate dinner with the band (I was having a hard time NOT staring at Charlie).  We’d been instructed not to take photos or bug the guys because this was their down-time before the concert.  I behaved, only because I didn’t want to get thrown out of there, and I’d yet to meet Daryl.  They served pasta, and I purposely avoided the spaghetti and red sauce because I was terrified I’d slop some on mah boobies.  I made it through the meal, no-sauce-sloppage.  That is,  until I decided to eat a piece of garlic toast.  Yep, you guessed it, that sucker flipped out of my fingers, landing on my lap and then on the floor.  I swear I’m such a freakin’ klutz.  What’re ya gonna’ do, eh?

David took us into a room backstage where we awaited Dary’ls arrival.  One guy in particular appeared even more excited than me!  His wife finally whispered to me, “Gah! He’s such a girl!”  LOL!  David had us line up so that we could get this over with as quickly as possible, you know, Daryl’s a very busy man, etc.  Yeah, yeah, OK, but I want to spend more than two seconds with the man!!!!  As we stood in line, I kept quizzing Michael, “Is my hair OK?  What about my lipgloss?  Is the food mess very noticeable?”  He assured me that Daryl would not notice the food stains on my shirt and that, yes, I looked good.  Good heavens, what  would I do without this beautiful man who married me 31 years ago???

Darryl and David Brunetto

Eventually we hear that Daryl’s approaching the room we’re in, and in he walks wearing glasses, a black leather jacket, black shirt, jeans, black boots, and OMG he was HAWT!! HAWT!!HAWT!!  My heart was racing and I kept trying to get pictures of him with my iPhone, but people kept getting in the way…

(<—–yes that one).

 David made introductions and once again explained “the rules” to us.   Oh yeah, David Brunetto sort of reminded me of Dave2.  I suppose because he’s tall, dark, and handsome except with curly hair.  DUDE, check it, he’s got a lanyard, and it looks like there could be a Bad Monkey on it. 

I thought it would never be my turn, but David was careful about moving everyone along quickly.  

We walk up to him….AND MY, OH MY, and OMG and all of that…He’s SO tall and handsome!  I’m all aquiver with excitement.  Michael’s guiding me up to him, and I’m feeling all goofy and high-school-girlish.  Duh!  We shake hands.  I really wanted to plant a big fat kiss on him, but I refrained because I was too skeered and shaking in mah sandals!  I just kind of handed him the passes I wanted him to autograph.  He signs them, and then I nervously asked, “Um, could you please sign my shirt too?”

He seemed a bit surprised about it, but then I showed him that John had signed the right side of my shirt.  As he was getting ready to sign ME, he said (I’m paraphrasing), “You know, just after you met John, his son, Tanner, was out running around playing, and he saw a man collapse.  John did CPR and saved the guy.  So you’re safe with us!”  All the while he’s telling ME this story, I’m ogling him, but hey, at least I remember the story.

I had the most wonderful time meeting these guys.  I’ve been “in love” with them since the very early 70’s.  They started the concert with “Maneater” promptly at 8 p.m.  Chastain Park is in the heart of Buckhead, and there are decibel level laws in place, so there was no need for ear-plugs (yes, I always pack them).

We had great seats, and obviously we were there early.  We sat and watched as people sat-up their picnics with tablecloths, candles, wine, booze, and lots of yummeh-smelling food.  As 8 p.m. struck, and the band began to play, people continued to “stroll” into the amphitheater lackadasically setting-up their picnics and talking all the while.  Michael and I looked at each other like, WTH is up with this shit?  

Charlie DeChant played his solo in “Maneater” and I was the first to wOOt, holler, and applaud his performance!  Charlie even peered around the speakers to “bow”.  Nobody was paying attention — except for us!  Why the hell would you pay money to see a band perform and not LISTEN to them?  Michael and I were both embarrassed and appalled by the audience at Chastain.

As the evening wore on, the audience seemed more intent on socializing and drinking than enjoying  H & O’s performance.  Anyone who knows me also knows I enjoy my martinis (or whatever), but this audience was despicable.  I’m still pissed that Michael had to ask the people behind us to lower their voices so that we could hear the band.  

Atlanta audiences, get your acts together — or the acts won’t want to come back to entertain YOU!  I know that we’re reconsidering attending many concerts lined-up this summer.  I don’t want to hear some drunk-ass dude behind me sound like a fool when I’ve paid to hear beautiful music.

Even with the drunk-ass dude ruining the concert for us, meeting John and Darryl was a night I will NEVER EVER forget!

Thank you, Michael, for doing this for me, baby.  I love you ALWAYS and FOREVER!

 honey-dos.  We decided that since his birthday is Friday and his friends are throwing him a not-so-surprise surprise party that night, we would celebrate his birthday.  Our tradition has always been that the birthday honoree gets to pick the meal, and he chose one of his favorites, Texas Hash.

My mom got the first recipe from an old Betty Crocker cookbook.  She gave me a new Betty Crocker cookbook when I got married, but Stupid Betty changed the recipe to something completely different (although it tasted ok).

I was tweeting about it, and one of my new Twitter friends asked for the recipe.  I was going to post then, but Petro and I were having too much fun talking, sippin’ on some Stellas, and taking goofy pictures of each other in the garage!  We were up until 2 a.m.

Geeky’s Texas Hash