My sister’s show last night was wonderful. It was like old-home week, too: a bunch of Rhode Islanders showed up, a bunch of Siobhan’s friends from college, I saw a couple of people I haven’t seen in a long time. It was wonderful. To have everyone come together in support for Siobhan. And Bill McCabe showed up too! That was awesome. It was a good crowd, a good mix.
Siobhan looked gorgeous, she sounded great. She played a couple of new songs. And, hooray, she played “161”, one of my all-time favorites. There are 162 games in a baseball season, and she wrote this song as an ode of hope and longing, a song of Red Sox love, after opening day of 2002.
One game done and hope abounds
and I’m already hearing World Series sounds.
That one quote alone explains the entire Red Sox fan psyche.
There is a ghost of Babe Ruth floating over Fenway. Lyrics here.
Everybody got very into it. Great to hear the guffaws of laughter throughout the room.
Everyone’s a baseball fan.
Afterwards, we all went over to the Parkside Lounge, sat in a corner, drank beer, ate an alarmingly large volume of Chex Mix, watched the snow coming down, blowing across Houston like wraiths, and talked like maniacs. There was some kind of a burlesque show going on in the back – so as we had our conversation, random phrases from the burlesque MC came out to our ears.
“Do you like The Onion?”
“Oh my God, I read it every day…”
“It’s hilarious – I’ve been reading them for years…”
“COME ONE! COME ALL! COME AND LOOK AT SOME BOOBIES!”
There would be a pause in our conversation. We were stunned into silence. After one of these interjections, I said, “Boobies??”
They actually said the word “boobies“, which seems rather juvenile. Isn’t a burlesque show supposed to be a bit more erotic, a bit more … suggestive?
The MC, by the way, was a woman who was no larger than 4 feet tall, wearing very thick glasses, and a man’s suit. A man’s grey suit. She came over to our table and said, “Burlesque show starting in the back in one minute.”
It was so specific. One minute.
But we preferred to stay over by our Chex Mix, and watch the snow coming down outside, than see some …. boobies.
Perhaps it is our loss.
But anyway – it was a wonderful night. Very proud of my younger sister. Very proud.
What have you got against “boobies”? It makes them sound so wholesome and fun. “Breasts” is far too clinical and the other alternatives are a bit too coarse for mixed company. You can mention boobies in front of your mom.
That’s been my preferred term for years, ever since a certain bachelor party with the requisite trip to the nudie bar. A friend, who was a bit blotto by that time, sat grinning from ear to ear, sighed happily and said simply, “I like boobies.”
As an added bonus, I bet all this talk of boobies will increase traffic to your site. Do not speak ill of the boobies.
Oh, I have nothing against boobies! I do not mean to speak ill of them. I have a rather nice pair myself. It’s just the WORD. And also the fact that it was emanating from the back room in this oddly disembodied way…
I accept your theory that it makes them sound “wholesome and fun”. I can accept that.
And when I posted this – I did not think of all the Google freaks who are going to get to me now.
I had to take down my one-line post about the daughter of Kurt Cobain (can’t even say her name!! SO MANY people are looking for information about her) because you would not believe the MANIACS who were getting to me through Googling her. I got more traffic from that one teeny link than anything else.
I also posted something once where the word “dumbbell tenements” was used. It was a quote from a book. I have nothing interesting or original to say about “dumbbell tenements” but apparently, there are massive amounts of people on this planet who want to know more about “dumbbell tenements” and get to me through Googling that word.
Very strange.
Oh – by the way – VERY funny story about your blotto friend.
NO-MAH!
Wish I could have stuck around for the post-show fun, but working early is a pain in the ass.
Man, I missed a good night. I like Chex mix, love boobies, and, oh yeah, it would have been nice to see Siobhan sing also. Maybe next time.
What cool lyrics!
That little sis has some real talent…
thanks sheil! your comments were so nice. i’m so glad you like “161”. sometimes i feel like a big goofball for playing it, but i am serious when i sing “I wanna marry Nomar!” DEADLY SERIOUS.
Maybe marrying you would cheer No-mah up, Siobhan.
I think he needs cheering up.
You’d just have to deal with the OCD gestures, but that’s no biggie.
You were great – it was great to see you perform again.
My darling!
Was so excited to read the details of Siobhan’s gig the other night!!! so glad that it went well…was dogsitting and fucking my dysfunctional ex-boyfriend…
Know that I’m reading this thing and keeping up to date with the comings and goings of the House of O’Malley.
Love you, Sheila, and Miss you all much.
Hunter
PS, Spalding’s missing, do you have him in your cellar?
Hunter!! You do realize these are public comments right? That everyone now knows that you are fucking your dysfunctional boyfriend??
We missed you very much at the gig. Rachel manned the CD table very well …
With her eyepatch?!
Guess not, that’s SO 2003!
The eyepatch!!
oh God, those were the days.
And Hunter – I can’t believe it about Spalding. I swear he’s not in my cellar, as much as I admire him. I’m not Stephen King’s Misery.