emjayne

It's a Barnum and Bailey World

Esquire Magazine voted Nye's Polanaise room the best bar in America in 2006.  The best bar.  I had never been.  It's this funky little dive right over the bridge from Downtown Minneapolis.  So last night, when Kev was in town, we headed over there.

And we ended up singing karaoke at the piano bar.

"I want to sing," I said while paging through a song book and chewing a prime rib bite covered in horseradish.  Our waitress, a real gem of a gal (she looked like she was a "lifer" server and was the perfect definition of Minnesota Nice), explained to us how the piano bar worked.  We were seated in gold, glittery booths and listening to an elderly lady croon.  I mean croon. 

"This place is three-quarters empty," I negotiated with Kev. "If I ever have the courage to do karaoke, it's tonight."

"You realize it's different singing with a piano man than a television screen," he explained.  But I knew he was going soft on me.  He would sing.  I picked out a couple of songs and we moved our winter coats up to the piano.

My first song was Paper Moon by Frank Sinatra.  Kev kept pushing the microphone in front of my face, but I didn't care if that thing was 10 feet from my face.  I was just doing it for fun.  A couple regulars followed me up, then Kev sang a terrific, terrific rendition of "500 Miles."  The woman sitting next to me eyed him up a couple of times.  Oh, Frank in the day must have made women melt all around him.  Crazy.  A man sings a song and a woman stares. 

And then I sang "Leaving on a Jet Plane".  This time the regulars weren't that interested in my mediocre singing, and they got a little fidgety as I sang.  And I suddenly became aware of the fact I was singing, in front of people. Nerves fizzled up inside me.  I forgot the "just for fun" mantra for a moment.  I faltered off a bit, when Kev leaned in just close enough for me to hear.

"You're nailin' it," he said.

And all the fun returned.

Kev puts the fun back into any situation.

Sometimes life can be so good.  On a Tuesday night.  At 11:00 p.m.  With a bald man named Mike struggling to play Scotch and Soda on the piano.  And a young man next to you hitting every note like butter.  And your heart is still singing because you actually had the balls to do karaoke for once.

And I nailed it.

Overheard at Walgreens

A grandmother, mother, and son are waiting behind me at Walgreens.  The son is pre-teen, almost taller than his mother.  While the mother and grandmother are engaged in conversation, the son moves in very closely on his mother, almost to embrace, but not quite. 

Then I hear, "Stop it now, you've got to quit smelling my neck in public."

This, ladies and gentlemen, is what happens when you breastfeed your children too long.

Rejuvenatin' in the North Woods

This was my home for the past weekend.

Eleven friends joined me in a drive 4 hours north of the Twin Cities. We piled into this gorgeous home on Lake Vermillion.  When the sun rose over the lake on the first morning, I almost had tears running down my cheeks it was so beautiful.

I'd say I'm getting stronger, but that's a lie.  I am strong.  These two years have proved that.

It's just that winter is thawing out in my life and things are finally starting to bloom.

We sat in a hot tub that overlooked the lake.  Deep fried two turkeys and had a spectacular dinner to go with it (including home made ice cream). Hiked around the lake and went ice fishing. Played Jenga for hours. And hours. Told stories around candlelight.  Burned old letters. Enjoyed heated tile floors. Pushed cars out of snowbanks in the driveway time and time again.

There's so much more and I'll tell you soon.  But for now, I just want to say it was good for my soul, it was good to be with family.  It was good to get my car stuck in the driveway in the middle of the night, pray for a little help, and realize how truly bright the stars are when it's dark outside.  Cold air can feel so good in the lungs.