Mr. Costello, 2017

Sunday night, Mr. Rosenberg and I went to see Elvis Costello at the Greek Theater in Los Angeles. Listening to Elvis Costello sing is on my list of things that make life really, really good and I've been fortunate to see him live a number of times.

Now that we're older, (Elvis and I) he plays at theaters that have assigned seating instead of the standing/dancing shows of the past. I'm at a point in my life where I appreciate assigned seating.

This year he is touring in celebration of the 35th anniversary of the release of one of his best albums, Imperial Bedroom. This record came out the year I graduated high school and it has followed me around ever since.

It was a wonderful concert and a beautiful night in an outdoor theater. I encourage you to do the things that make you happiest, as often as possible.

Excuse Me?

We're sorry, did you say something?

From the Smacksy Archive: Bob's First MLB Game

Photo by Phil Reagan

Bob and I have been keeping up with our plan for me to read aloud one old blog post each night at bedtime. We've been going in chronological order from the beginning.

Tonight we read the story of when we took Bob to his first professional baseball game. Bob was three. You can read it here: Go Baseball Bats!

When I finished reading it, he asked me to read it again.

Smacksy Sunday Links

Making a marriage magically tidy.

Things I am too old for.

Lobsterman.

Handmade shoes. Fascinating.

Broken things with googly eyes in Bulgaria.

And a cat playing the piano.

Happy Sunday.

Smacksy Saturday Photo: Downtime

When you had a baseball game last night and another one this morning, what do you do in the two hours until your next game? You go out to the back of the field and play some more baseball. Obviously.

A Costume

"Bob! We've got to go! We can't be late for your performance!"

"Mom! Where's my white shirt?"

"What white shirt? You don't have a white shirt."

"The one for the dance-thing! I totally told you about it!"

"You totally did not."

"Okay, well I need a white shirt. Or I can wear a plaid one."

"You do not own either of those things."

"But, Mom! I have to look western!"

"I don't know what to tell you Bob, but we've got to leave."

"Wait! This shirt is perfect!"

"Your gray, Tulowitzki Colorado Rockies shirt? How is that perfect?"

"Mom, Tulo is appropriate for any occasion."

A Story About Levi

In one of his previous placements from the dog rescue, Levi lived for a short time in an assisted living. He did not end up being the right fit there ultimately, but the residents loved him. In the evenings, the folks who wanted a visit from Levi would leave their doors open so he could wander in. Levi kept to the first floor, never venturing up the stairs.

One morning, Levi was not in his bed in the lobby. They searched for him in the dining room and the music room and all of the first floor resident apartments. They worried that perhaps he had somehow gotten out. Even though he never climbed the stairs, they eventually went looking for him on the second floor. Still, no sign of him.

The employees spread out through the building. He was finally found on the third floor. He was curled up sleeping at the foot of the bed of a woman who they soon discovered, had died overnight. She didn't pass alone. Levi had been at her side.

I wish you all could meet him.  He's such a good boy.