Those Tickets Had My Name on Them

(Photo G00gled ~ Stones 1972)

I'll be at The Eagles concert in Nashville in a couple weeks.

This got me thinking about my "concert days" back when I was being a *Pennie Lane*.

It was my junior year. 1972

The radio stations were all abuzz about The Rolling Stones coming to Cobo Hall, Detroit, MI.

I HAD to go.

There was this nerdy guy, Paul, in one of my classes. It was known that his dad was somehow affiliated with different venues and Paul was always able to get tickets to anything he wanted.

I decided I was going to the Stones concert via Paul. (I know, don't say it.)

So I entered flirt mode a couple weeks before the concert. Sure enough, he asked me if I wanted to go.

In the meantime, (yes, MEAN having a double entendre here) Karin and I were hanging out at Hart Plaza, downtown Detroit, and met a couple guys. I started dating "Ray" and still kept Paul on the side, until after the concert of course. (Again, I know ... shhhh)

The concert was on a Saturday night. I bought a new outfit (probably something short and tight) to wear. The tickets were 3rd row center, main floor. (First row was crappy at Cobo, you just saw security thugs and your neck hurt from looking up)

Early Saturday morning, I got the dreaded call from Paul. He couldn't go to the concert. Right. He said he had come home in his father's car drunk the night before so he was grounded.

I held my breath waiting for him to offer me the tickets. He didn't.

He said he was going to go out on Woodward Ave. while his dad was at work, and try to sell them. Chit. "Try" ... right ... everyone and their brother wanted tickets to the Stones.

A couple hours later, as I sat home bumming out, Ray called.

He was so excited, "Nancy, you're not going to believe this." I just scored the most awesome Rolling Stone tickets for tonight ... can you go?"

:::blink blink:::

(Let me guess, 3rd row center?)

"Sure Ray ... how did you get tickets?"

As the words came out, I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "I was on Woodward and some guy rolled down his window at a stop light and said he had Stones tickets for sale, so we are going!"

I never told Ray, I never told Paul.

I did go out with Paul a couple times after that, not to a concert, just because he really was a nice guy. And Ray ... well I was 18 and he was 28, I knew that was not a good long term thing.

Bently, Incognito

I've posted a lot about Bently, our Pit Bull.

I guess I should come out with it.

He's not really a Pit Bull.






He's a Hockey Mom.

Sarah Palin:

"Do you know what they say the difference is between a hockey mom and a Pit Bull?"

"A hockey mom wears lipstick."

Barbie, I Still Like This Girl

It started with this:

I saw the 35th Anniversary Barbie set and remembered my long lost, played with Barbies and the many clothes and accessories I had for her. And so it began. Over 10 years of collecting.


It grew to over ??? I don't know how many. Every time I tried to count and inventory them, I'd get messed up, more so with the bottle of wine it usually took to attempt the task.


A few years ago, I decided to start selling some of my collection. I sold, and sold, and sold some more. I've shipped these babes to every country in the world except the mid-east and Russia.


This past weekend, I moved them to Caitlin's old bedroom and sorted them. There are some I will never part with but my intention is to start selling again. I still have some more I need to separate and sort, but I need to get a couple more shelves brought up from the basement.

I have boxes of vintage outfits and a couple vintage dolls that I don't display since they are out of their boxes. I have just about every Hallmark Barbie ornament and a pink Barbie Christmas tree, and everything else Barbie you can imagine. Thanks to my fellow collector Debbie, I even have Barbie martini glasses.

*some shelves have dolls 2 and 3 deep!

Mystery ... Unsolved

Maybe you can help figure this one out.

See these T-shirts and various tops?

Each one has a hole in it.
Yes, even the brand new ones.

Smack dab in the middle of each shirt by the "belly-button" area.

I looked at where my seat belt lays ... nothing, no metal or plastic buttons nothing to snag onto.

My desk? Nothing. It's a smooth Corian top and the drawer has nothing it could snag on.

Belts? Nope, rarely wear them and when I do, it's not with the clothes I wear to work.

Hoodie zippers? I though I may have a zipper that has a sharp piece on the inside that catches my T's ... but most of these short sleeve T's are new, this summer, and I haven't worn a hoodie.

NO! I don't have a pierced belly-button. I would if I was younger or if it wouldn't get lost in the roll when I sit down.

So I just forget about them.

Until...

I went to lunch with my sister Sandi.

She commented on the light pink T I was wearing (that Sonia made).

I said, "Yea, I like this too, but I'm bummed because look, (as I poke my finger through the hole) I have a hole right here."

She said, "OMG, I get those on my T's !"

::: blink blink :::

Then I proceeded to tell her how ALL my T's have this hole, all in the same place.

So do hers!

Hu?

We don't have any similar daily routine that would explain this.

Please anyone?? Any ideas ?? Suggestions?? Do you get these holes too??

Now I am spooked because it's not just my T's.

If nobody can figure this out, I will be totally convinced my sister and I are being used by aliens to satisfy their pleasures. But via belly-button?