October. That pink month of football.

 A whole month of men in pink? From football stadium to football stadium? This is what I have to say.
ENOUGH.

We get it. You want us to think you care about women, are socially aware and are behind the movement to find a cure for breast cancer, to provide medical care, and the resources needed, to encourage early diagnosis... blah blah blah.
 According to the article by Amanda Hess that ran in Slate four days ago,

"A Crucial Catch’s annual effort includes stenciling football fields with breast cancer ribbons, recruiting star athletes to don baby pink in commercials supporting the effort, and selling fans on rose-tinted team-branded gear. Some of the proceeds of those sales are donated to the American Cancer Society, but “the league declines to say” the percentage it’s actually forking over—and either way, the apparel conveniently promotes the Giants and the Cowboys (and specifically encourages female investment in those brands) alongside women’s health. One particularly grim stat: Ticketmaster capped its 2012 A Crucial Catch donation at $40,000. That’s just $1 for every woman who died of breast cancer in 2012; one study found that patients with metastatic breast cancer cost the U.S. a combined $12.2 billion annually in direct and indirect costs.

  Read that again, The league decline to say the percentage it's actually forking over.... really??
Truth is- YOU ARE HOGGING THE MONTH, stealing limelight for other charities, lining pockets that, hell, are mink fur and gold lined already.
 And more than that. The pink is annoying, and bothersome. How many plays were missed when we thought that flag was someone's dropped towel?
  My thought is this. Pink does not equal a breast. What about pale hairy men with breast cancer? African American women? Don't make me list all the different kinds, colors, shapes of tits out there. Please, please, email me one if it is hot pink.
 I know, I know. I read all about the ribbon, the color choice, the background ((you can read it here) but what about the other choices how the fashion industry wanted to make a bull's-eye, how someone else suggested the upside down purple ribbon with the tear shape?  You want men to promote and back breast cancer awareness? Maybe we need to have a beautiful healthy breast be the symbol. Hats shaped like boobs. Make your own shirt. Wear your bra on the outside of your blouse. Have men see what a mammogram looks like, how it feels. Send around self- check cards, posters, post the HOW TO in a humorous way. These shirts are better than the ribbons.

 Come on. 

 More than early diagnosis, is the need to educate women on prevention. Healthy eating, exercise and maintaining a low BMI, plus reducing the daily intake of alcohol all play a part in reducing the risk of breast cancer. Europeans have been promoting this type of frontal attack on the disease for years. ( They have a single day of BREAST AWARENESS.)

 I learned more about breast cancer prevention and statistics in a European 3 minute video than I gathered from 16 convoluted pages of American medical literature, where blame was placed on genetics, cigarettes, hormone therapy, radiation in the work place, birth control pills, oh yeah, and some non-conclusive dietary and physical activity habits.

 Give back the pink. 1980 is calling.

 Step up to reality. We want to be taught, not accessorized. 

I'd listen more if one football player told one story each Sunday about his experience with breast cancer.

Especially if he was wearing these.

It's just like high school, or is it?

A woman said to me today, "This is ridiculous, isn't it? It's just like high school."
 I laughed, and wondered what she'd been like in high school and if she realized even speaking to me about the issue made her seem the most immature of all the involved parties.

For many women, high school was a horrible experience that they would never choose to re-live-- as seen on a recent Glee episode, where the OCD Ginger chick felt ostracized, the powerful bitch wanted even more power and the fame hungry talented girl just wanted her recognition.

 Reality check. That's not just a high school mentality. That's corporate world positioning. That's teachers vying for tenure. That's a political fight between Democrats and Republicans. That was me trying to make a point a few weeks ago in a room of print happy writers.
And strangely, that's probably the same thing this broad has to deal with on her job with men and women all day long.

To tell me I can't mention the people in the story by name- ever... is fun. Really thanks for the story idea. To say something is high-schoolish is to say it won't matter in another four years... but doesn't EVERYTHING matter?

 Every time we hurt someone's feelings, every time we act out of impulse or anger, every time we made a bad decision about a friendship or a lover, every time we lie. These decisions - made as a high school aged person, or an adult will not only matter in the here and now- but in the future.

Of course, in the moment, I listened. (while taking notes - call it character study for the novel). I tried to tell the woman that I was sorry she'd felt it necessary to waste her time and mine, that if she would take the time to read through the lines, ask the right questions and actually make a committed decision, she could have laid the problem to rest long ago.
When she'd let me, I told her the truth, I inserted my opinion, and mostly I chuckled to myself, that A. she didn't want to hear any other sides of a story, except the one she was choosing to believe and that B. some ass- backward uneducated people in the world feel like it's their right to abuse authority, in any shape or form.

Don't you hate the guy who drives up in the Mercedes to collect the free turkey at Thanksgiving, the woman who sues for the hot coffee she spilled on her lap at the fast food drive-thru. Don't you despise corruption at any level and those people who imagine they are above it all?

Mostly, I guess I am disappointed in mankind. That the idea of freedom of expression, of personal communication and private interaction and even, a good old-fashioned tossing down of the gauntlet in the most polite way ever to say,"Oh yeah. Bring it!" has been pushed to the wayside in favor of some dumb-assed sophomoric life approach wherein one feels abdicated by saying "you tell him that she told her that I said that to them and now, I don't want to talk about it any more, so it's over."

All that says to us, the wiser ones is .....you're a fucking moron.

Regrets for the shoe I didn't buy that day

IMG00474
Originally uploaded by Another Good Thing

One day- at band camp..
I mean, at the shoe store...I had an opportunity to try something different. I had to make a choice, and I was unsure. It wasn't that I didn't like the shoe, it was that I wasn't sure we were compatible. I mean the first thing I thought of, red, suede, can't go out in the rain, and then I realized it was more than that- now I'd have to shop for a dress to match, and that is never a good thing to be thinking-
I mean, you're just dipping your toe in and not ready to truly commit, the last thing you want to be thinking about is the future, will this go with that and will something end up giving me more pain than the moment of pleasure I'm feeling right now gazing at he gold lining...and then there's the idea that, a single slip, a tiny mispurchase and you may be in for a whole new dress, another decision, another possible thing to regret.

wait. we're still talking about shoes, right?

Naked Woman That No One Wanted

From Ananova:
Naked blonde turns tables on builders


Burly builders fled when a naked blonde rushed at them on a construction site in the Austrian capital Vienna shouting: "Who wants me?"

The hard-hat hunks ran for cover when the woman turned the tables on them on the building site beside the city's main railway station.

"We like to chat up girls as they walk past - it's a tradition," said one builder.

"But this woman was too much to handle and we just ran and hid until the police got here. No-one liked to think what would happen if she caught one of us," he added.

Police spokesman Mario Hejl said: "It turned out no-one wanted her. The woman was detained and was put under a doctor's care."

He's a Magic Man.

Everyone knows this guy: He's MAGIC.
I met him once.
I used to do promotional modeling in California. One of my jobs was to appear at a David Copperfield Show in San Diego. This must have been around 1986-1987 He was in his hey dey then, and me? I wasn't impressed. I'm the girl who likes to expose the tricks, watch the hand they don't want you to watch, see the angle to camera can't. So, of course I went backstage.
What I found was a David Copperfield double.
Right after his "I've disappeared from this part of the stage and reappeared in the back of the audience trick." yep

Still, I thought he was hot. And a guy with magic hands? well. 'nuff said.
But I was in a relationship and I declined the drinks and backstage sit-in and instead went home and pretty much forgot all about it.
I followed his rise to fame- him becoming the 57 million dollar man.. a man with a private island.

As with most celebrities, he ran into a bit of girl trouble.. some claims washed away and some are still sticking around. Like this one from 2007:

A Seattle woman has filed a lawsuit stating that illusionist David Copperfield repeatedly sexually assaulted her two years ago on his private island for two days. The woman, 22, claims the magician raped her and sexually assaulted her on two other occasions and even threatened to kill her. Two years ago, David Copperfield invited the woman to his $50 million private retreat on Musha Cay after meeting her at a show in Washington state. One of Copperfield’s assistants invited the alleged victim backstage, where she was told about potential work on the island that might lead to “modeling opportunities,” according to the suit, filed on July 29.
When the 22 year-old woman on the island, that is only reachable by private boat, on July 27, 2007, “she realized no one else was in attendance other than . . . Copperfield,” the suit states. They had dinner and then went to David Copperfield’s room to watch a movie.
“Copperfield then attacked [her] and sexually assaulted her” and “threatened to kill her,” despite the victim’s attempt to fight him off, leaving her “extremely traumatized,” her filing charges.

“This lawsuit is extortion for money, plain and simple,” Copperfield’s lawyers say. “Unfortunately, false claims like this only hurt the women who really have been abused, women who really need our help.”

TMZ.com reported that other women have claimed that Copperfield uses his shows to target attractive women. The woman took photographs of the alleged crime scene with her cell phone and did not bathe so as to retain DNA evidence. Upon her return to Seattle, she went directly to a hospital and a "rape kit" was assembled. Some of her clothing was taken as evidence. FBI agents arranged a

Sting operation in which the woman met Copperfield and he allegedly offered her a US$2 million bribe, if she would drop her rape charge against him.

Magic Man? maybe not.
Odd how I mistyped his name first off-- coming up with Copperfiend. And because I like to expose truths...
here's a sneak peak at the way one of his "magic" tricks is really done.


David Copperfield Revealed - For more of the funniest videos, click here

Words to the wise.

"Whatever you give a woman, she will make greater. If you give her sperm, she'll give you a baby. If you give her a house, she'll give you a home. If you give her groceries, she'll give you a meal. If you give her a smile, she'll give you her heart. She multiplies and enlarges what is given to her. So, if you give her any crap, be ready to receive a ton of shit."

This is why I speed.

Tom says it's a testicular pleasure. And while, as a woman, I can't quite get on board with that reason, I cannot deny the sexual reference, nor my need for speed. Maybe it's the pleasure it brings me, when the driving fast is combined with the illegality of it. It's like sex- but not like this kind of sex. It's like all the best parts of sex: the power, the control, the excitement, the pleasure, the adrenaline rush, the possibility of getting caught, the newness every time, the rise in blood pressure, the release, the chance to do it all over again.
Just please don't tell the 15 yr old who is vying for his learner's permit this week.

On my FACEBOOK page, I linked an small speeding article written by the talented and amazing Tom Chiarella from Esquire in a section about minor violations... why we do them and what's the cost? Read it, read the whole magazine, for good ness sake and sure, if you want? Friend me.

Frankly, I know I speed more than is necessary. I'm usually not doing it because I'm late, except for that time my pedicure ran over and I almost missed my plane to London, and then I compounded the speeding indiscretion with driving solo in the HOV lane. What the hell.. in for a dime, in for a dozen, I say. I wasn't stopped for either. And they held the plane for me.

I used to drive according to whatever was on the radio. Even now, I find myself cruising along minding all regulations when the Spa channel is on, but when I twist the dial to garage rock or alternative and hair band satellite stations.. all bets are off.

I have my favorite speed spots. I know where the potholes are and where the Sheriff tucks his long white car in the bushes. I know a nice long stretch of smooth blacktop from Atlanta to Myrtle Beach where 110 feels like 40 and a curving road on the way south where I can pass car after car after car even if the lines look like doubled yellow.
I have learned to turn the music down and appreciate instead the growl of the engine, the whine and shudder of downshifting gears, the blast of air in my face and the whipping of hair against bare shoulders as I'm slammed back in my seat.

When you say it like a good ole' country boy, it's MUCH funnier

Actually, everything in the South can sound much more funny to a born and bred Yankee. It's almost like a suave Frenchman telling me to take out the garbage. I swoon.

Sure, sometimes, Southern accents sound choppy and angry, even less than smart... but sometimes they are so charming and sweet, your pants practically fall right off.

What I like the best are the common working man accents. Nothing pretentious there.
Take the other day, when Mr. Bugman came to spray for ants.

I explain the problem we're having with a few pesky critters in one corner of the kitchen, and oddly enough in the bedroom above- where P tends to leave plates of orange slices out overnight.

He looks around then calls me over to see.
"Yes, Ma'am. I see the problem. C'mon down here and take a look. Now that-" (he points to a tiny spider) " - is a telltale sign you got yerself an ant problem." ( and here I thought the ant trail across the counter and down to the floor was the tell tale sign)
Bugman says, "You see? He was probably keeping the population down for you." ( and how many ants can a two ant-sized spider eat, Mr Bugman?)
"Don't worry," he says. "I'll take care of him for you." He leans in and with a thick index finger, squashes the little spider with a tiny pop- then wipes his finger on his Dickies and smiles at me.
oh yes.
He says, "And now I'm gonna take care of those ants."
Sensing a ripe opportunity for illuminating conversation, I say, "Your brochure says there are many species of ants that may require different treatments, is that right?"
"Yes Ma'am.We have 14 varieties right here in this area." He squats to spray something lethal from his backpack of death. "But the Argentinians? They're the troublemakers."
He wanders off to another room. I notice he has slipped some sort of paper covering over his shoes, and I wonder if a medical procedure is imminent.
"Is that right?" I say, following him. "Oh, those Argentinians..."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"And so, how will you treat for them versus other ants?"
"Well, we try to provide a smorgasbord ( yes- he said that) of food for them."
"Uh-huh."
"See, they forage for different things during the day. Carbohydrates, proteins, sweets... so we want to attract them with our bait-"
"I see. (thinking maybe I am part Argentinian Ant) And then?"
"Then we draw them outside." He smiles. "And kill them."
"Oh."
"Yes, Ma'am."

Later he wants me to come outside where he has sprinkled something sure to make neighboring cats sick, and show me the trail from the mulch to the siding, where he has been watching worker ants leave my house to take his poisonous bait back to the colony. He assures me it is all very interesting, something I should squat right down there under the Gardenia bushes beside him and watch. And I do, for a little while, trying hard not to think of the movie ANTZ and those big bug eyes.

3 Death Cards in my Tarot Today=Obituary Post

Another person I wished I'd had the pleasure of meeting.


From the NYT 3-20-09 By WILLIAM GRIMES (read complete here)

“We are not after all intended to be consumed.”
So begins Lionel Ziprin’s “Sentential Metaphrastic,” a “poem in progress” of more than a thousand pages. “I reduced it to 785 pages,” Mr. Ziprin told The Jewish Quarterly in 2006. “I call it the longest and most boring poem since Milton’s ‘Paradise Lost.’ ”

Mr. Ziprin, a brilliant, baffling, beguiling voice of the Lower East Side and the East Village in all its phases — Jewish, hipster and hippie — died last Sunday in Manhattan. He was 84. The cause was chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, his daughter Zia Ziprin said.

For decades, Mr. Ziprin, a self-created planet, exerted a powerful gravitational attraction for poets, artists, experimental filmmakers, would-be philosophers and spiritual seekers. He ran his apartment, on Seventh Street in the East Village, as a bohemian salon, attracting a loose collective that included the ethnomusicologist Harry Smith, the photographer Robert Frank and the jazz musician Thelonious Monk, who would drop by for meals between sets at the Five Spot. Bob Dylan paid the occasional visit.

"He was larger than life and so far beyond a certain kind of description that I am bamboozled,” said Ira Cohen, a longtime friend. “He was much larger than a poet, though that’s hard for me to say, as a poet. He was one of the big secret heroes of the time.”

“I thought I was living in the Bible,” Mr. Ziprin said in a documentary produced by Jon Kalish for public radio in 2006. “ My grandparents were like biblical people. The only problem I had as a child, I looked outside, and there were automobiles. There’s a big contradiction.”

While undergoing a tonsillectomy, young Lionel — called Leibel or Leibele by his family — was badly overanesthetized. After emerging from a 10-day coma he developed St. Vitus’s Dance and epilepsy. He was seized by fits of uncontrollable laughter and experienced hallucinations. For the rest of his life, he saw visions and conversed with the spirit world.

A man of many words, he managed to write his self-portrait in just a few:

I have never been arrested. I

have never been institutionalized.

I have four children. I am in

receipt of social security benefits.

I am not an artist. I am not an

outsider. I am a citizen of the

republic and I have remained

anonymous all the time by choice.

Because March is Women's History Month...or Life Tips from Thelma and Louise

I should talk about the role of women in history- how we have changed the world both with our own actions and voices and also by our encouragement and support of those weak-kneed bumbling idiots ruled by two heads, yes... men.

I could send you HERE to test your knowledge of the role of women in our history.
or link you to historical books and films that toot the feminine and not so feminine horn of achievement...
or I could just offer this:

13 Life Tips From Thelma and Louise

1. You get what you settle for. “I still have to ask Darryl if I can go,” Thelma said. “He never lets me do a g-d damned thing. “You get what you settle for,” said Louise. Darryl treated Thelma like crap - but the thing is, she let him. She took everything he dished out without speaking up for herself, and that’s now way to achieve your life goals.

2. Stay connected to your friends. Women need each other. We need to talk, gossip, laugh, cry, pray, exercise, eat, and vent together. And, like Thelma and Louise, we need to get out of town together….not that I’m saying you need to drive cross country, kill a guy in self-defense, or run from the police to bond with your girlfriends! But, you do need support when you’re setting and achieving goals.

3. Celebrate your differences. This life tip from the Thelma and Louise movie involves not just tolerating your friends’ differences, but celebrating them. Thelma was a married stay-at-home housewife with a domineering, annoying husband. She wasn’t as mature or jaded as Louise, who worked as a waitress in a coffee shop and had a lot more life experience (including being raped in “past life”).

4. Take care of yourself. Always, always watch your back, even when you’re having fun, even when you’re surrounded by people you trust. At the bar a few hours after their road trip, Thelma drank too much and ended up in the parking lot with a guy - Harlan. Louise stopped him from raping her. “We’re just having a little fun,” Harlan said. “In the future, when a woman’s crying like that, she ain’t having any fun,” Louise said, voice trembling. “I should’ve f-ked her,” said Harlan. “Suck my —.” So Louise shot him. “You watch your mouth, buddy,” she said. Louise knew not only how to take care of herself, she knew how to take care of Thelma, too. And Harlan.

5. Keep a cushion of money in your account. You probably won’t need it because you’ve just murdered a rapist, but it’s still a great life tip from the Thelma and Louise movie. Always have three months of “mad money” that you can easily access, just in case you lose your job, run into health problems, or decide to take an extended vacation. Not having a fluffy cushion of money is a common financial mistake many women make - and it’ll stop you from achieving your life goals.

6. Trust your gut. Louise did not want to pick up that hottie hitchhiker (Brad Pitt); her gut instinct told her to stay away. Thelma, who doesn’t seem to have much of a gut instinct to trust, wanted to give him a ride and wouldn’t stop talking about it. So, they ended up giving him a ride, and it was the second biggest mistake they made.

7. Pick your battles. “He is an asshole,” Thelma said about her husband. “Most of the time I just let it slide.” This life tip from the Thelma and Louise movie isn’t about letting things slide; it’s about knowing where to draw the line. Setting your boundaries is about self-respect. People will treat you the way you let them - in fact, you teach people how to treat you by how you treat yourself and what you’ll take from others. To achieve your life goals, be aware of how you let people treat you…and how you treat them.

8. Figure out why you’re into the bad boys. Despite their different personalities, both Thelma and Louise were totally into bad boys! Thelma found hers on the road (J.D., the hottie hitchhiker who taught her how to rob a store). Louise’s bad boy boyfriend was hers all along. It’s cool to be into bad boys - as long as you don’t expect them to change.

9. Buckle up for the consequences. This life tip from the Thelma and Louise movie runs throughout the whole movie: If you’re hooked up with a bad boy or the most decent husband in the world, be prepared for the natural consequences. Like what? The possibility that you’ll get hurt - whether he’s never around when you need him or he’s around a little too much. Or, he could steal all your money…like J.D. did to Thelma and Louise. Don’t let this stop you from taking risks to achieve your life goals, but just be prepared for what happens next (both good and bad!).

10. Take turns being strong. Louise was the strong woman throughout most of the movie. Until J.D. stole their money; then, Thelma became strong. Sex with J.D. gave her the self-confidence she needed to take control of her life. By the end - when Thelma was putting the crying cop into the trunk of his police cruiser - Louise wasn’t the only strong woman in the movie. Thelma overcame her fear and grew into a strong, self-confident woman.

11. Take risks to get what you need. Thelma, in her new role as the strong woman, robbed the store to get the money that they needed to get to Mexico to start their lives over again. Now, I’m not advocating robbery. I’m stressing that this life tip from the Thelma and Louise movie is about taking risks despite your fears, and taking what you need to achieve your life goals.

12. Be open with your friends, because keeping secrets creates distance. Louise waited until the end of the movie to tell Thelma that she was raped in Texas, in her earlier life. Throughout their friendship, Thelma never really knew Louise - she didn’t know her motivations, fears, or past experiences.

13. Be comfortable with loose ends. The last life tip from Thelma and Louise has to be about the ending. Ah, that glorious, mysterious ending in which we really don’t know what happens next! Could they actually get away? Will there be a sequel? That’s exactly how life is. We don’t know for sure how it’s gonna end because it’s never really over…until it’s really over.

Hot Men in Tights. My Kind of Circus.

Going to see KOOZA tonight.
As an early Valentine's Day date... any way to avoid the mandatory, lame dinner date on the 14th.

The Benefits of Married Sex

Am I the only one who thinks Hollywood is taunting the singles out there by releasing this movie right before Valentine's Day?
He's Just Not That Into You
(which I think should be.... SHE'S Just not that into YOU, pal.)

He's Just Not That Into You trailer


Sure, I know quite a few single folks who are single by choice, but for those who are still looking for Mr. or Ms. Right, I will bet they all agree- Valentine's Day sucks.

Even though I never read the book,( see an excerpt here), just thinking about all those dating woes...the misunderstandings and the starting over is exhausting.

Yes, there are benefits to being married. Even if some days you have to remind yourself over and over why you said I do.

For instance,
The benefits of Married Sex.

The expectation is lower. Both in regularity and spontaneity.
You don't have to drive to get it.
You bought the sheets and probably changed them.
There is no need to brag about your body's glory days. He was there.
Night eye cream can be HOT!
Stretch marks acquired from birthing his child are very very sexy.
You can skip the erotic dance moves and candles and get right down to business if you want.
There are a lot less questions.
Saying "not now" is not a rejection, merely a postponement.
Morning breath is forgiveable.
He knows how to lock the door and when the kids interrupt, he'll understand.

A non-traditional Christmas tale, which still might have a moral.

She had been dating him since college let out for the summer. She was calling him the summer boyfriend, the guy who was friends with her girlfriend's boyfriend, a guy her own sister used to have the hots for. Convenience and revenge made for an interesting coupling.
He repaired speedboats, played basketball and could dance- well. For those things she could forgive his moodiness, his mumbling, his desire to spend more time with the guys than her. Summer turned to Fall, and they were still an item. She went to his family functions, hung out at his house, teased his dad about liking the WWF.
It seemed only natural that she would buy him a gift at Christmas. She'd listened to the dropped hints, checked his clothing sizes and splurged when a sale came up at a popular men's store.
Two weeks before Christmas he broke up with her over the phone.
She unwrapped the clothes, tore up the boxes and returned everything to the store, telling the clerk her boyfriend has decided to ask for skis instead, what a crazy guy, huh?
Then she took the money, bought booze and drugs and went to an old high school girl's holiday party, sharing a ride with her sister's fiancee- a guy who had always been nice to her and now was even nicer that she had booze and drugs and was willing to share.
The ex-boyfriend turned up at the party with a bunch of loud mouthed guys and she left with her sister's fiancee, a guy who touched her thigh in the back of the car and tried to kiss her- promising he'd never tell.
She slapped him and warned her sister, but six months later they were married. At the reception, the band played Bad Moon Rising and she made out with one of the groom's brothers in the limo- a man who told her he was divorced.
By Christmas, the sister's marriage was over, he'd left her a week after returning from the long honeymoon, leaving a goodbye note on the counter next to the garage door opener. He and his brother- the not really divorced at all one were going into business together, and his girlfriend wanted him to move in.
Merry Christmas.

Clarencecarterclarencecarterclarencecarter

Girls Night Out.
when the evening starts by slipping into a shirt that says,"Let's get sheetfaced."
you know you're in for some fun.
The badass druglord Mexican joints nearest to Netherworld lost our business this year as we traded in tequila for vodka and "The Cap'n". Courage in the form of lemon drops. You're buying it, aren't you?add a few vampire teeth and some glow in the dark lipstick that we smeared everywhere but forgot to check if it worked...

unless you have a vampire phobia... then just use your own teeththere was much shoving, screaming and laughing... especially for the First Timers
Noticed more couples on a weeknight than normal.. is this really first date material? I guess, if you want to see if your new man screams like a pussy.
This guy tried to get us to listen to the rules, but some of us were playing with our Crackberries and some of us were trying to drink the secret stash of Red Bull and Vodka and others were trying to figure out if this was a new gang in town or just some more overpriced apparel.There was more waiting and make up tips
Inside was fun
outside was a surprise in the 3rd outhouse and afterward- we went to a dead bar- to round out a ghoulish night. I think I would have been dead today if I had drunk their special:

When Golf is Not a Gentlemen's Sport.

On the way to see SPIDERMAN and Mickelson, we saw mile long lines for gas and a dead body in a front lawn. (The cops were there, but no one bothered to cover the guy up. I wanted to stop and take pictures, but the husband was pretty sure that wasn't a good idea- given the neighborhood we were in and the kind of people gathered around the body, yelling at the cops.)

Before we were allowed into the PGA Tournament at East Lake, we had to leave cameras and phones and backpacks in the car. I have to admit to a few moments of Blackberry withdrawal in the hours we were there- and was eager to point out all the people that slipped by security with THEIR phones. Hey. Not fair.
I only wanted a few pictures of my own and maybe some short video of the on the course interactions between players- you can hear their conversations- and the photos would have been great, especially when the pros started hitting people instead of trees.
By the time we followed Mickelson and Villegas to the 9th hole, we had already seen a guy get hit on the arm, another in the shoulder and BAM a minute later, Anthony Kim ( who was a little bit like the bratty spoiled boy you all hated in Junior High?) tee's off and whacks some guy in the temple! It was the loudest sound I have ever heard- louder than a golf ball hitting a hollow tree. We were right across from the guy, and saw him go flying. There's Kim looking on front the left in the white pants and big belt buckle.The local paper had another shot of the poor guy on the paramedic golf cart, a close up frontal view, though the bandage waas in place. When we saw him, he was gray-white and mumbling. My husband made a joke about the liability clause on the back of the the ticket, and a few people slipped theirs from their pocket to read the fine print. One thing we knew for sure, there would ba a lawyer in the crowd. And a doctor too.
From the AJC:

"There was a scary moment on the ninth hole when Anthony Kim’s errant tee shot struck a spectator in the head.Medical staff attended to 48-year-old David Whitfield of Atlanta, who was OK despite the crater-like abrasion on the side of his head.“Seeing that guy? … I thought I killed him,” Kim said. “It was an awful feeling to look down and see a golf-ball-sized impression in his forehead, and it’s cut open. “It was probably the nastiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Kim said it didn’t affect his game and refused to blame the incident for his back-nine 37, his highest round of the week.“I was hitting it terrible anyway, so I can’t say that threw my game off,” Kim said. “But obviously when you see that, you just feel for him and his family, and I was hoping and praying that he’d be OK.” Kim stood nearby when Whitfield was examined and left behind an autographed golf ball."

That is one expensive golfball.

All the ladies and quite a few Columbians followed Camilo Villegas, waiting for him to get to the green and give us his signature move. Nice.

Even nicer when he went on to win on Sunday. Well deserved. This kid is someone to watch for.