Pass the Kleenex...it's time for the LOJ Musical

I should know better. 

I have a 19 year old son and 14 year old daughter...I know better. 

Why I thought I could watch my daughter make her musical theater debut without taking Kimberly Clark WITH me was a bad decision. Turning on the saltwater faucet before she even stepped on stage was the unexpected part.

Every year, Lake Oswego Junior HS performs a musical production under the steadfast direction of the drama teacher Joe Theissen. And every year, I am STUNNED at the quality of production this one man is able to pull out of 100+ 13- and 14- year old adolescents. I can't even get a carload of girls dropped off at the mall without drama, he has them dancing and singing...in TUNE!  

This year's production is Beauty and the Beast. If you're a parent with a child under the age of 20, you surely have the DVD memorized, even if you haven't had to watch it for several years now. You may even have remnants of Halloween Belle's and Beasts in the rafters of your garage.  As one of those parents, I will tell you that this production is not to be missed, even as I warn you that you might be singing Tale as Old as Time for the next week. My daughter, Maggie, is Mrs. Potts. Yes...I raised a teapot with a slight British accent and I'm darn proud of it. 

With hardly a dry eye in the house and some friendly teasing between parents over our emotional breakdowns for our very own candlesticks, forks, spoons and villagers...the reason behind all this has become clear to me. It's less about the "pride" we feel. I mean, of course, we're proud. "Oh, honey, I'm so PROUD of you. You did SO well."

But really...deep down...we know that this is a first definitive step to the edge of the nest. These productions show us that our little ones really are growing up...who knew that this kid who can't pick up a towel and who appears to have lost most of his or her sense of hearing, especially when you're talking, is standing on a stage on their own...speaking carefully memorized lines...singing their hearts out in public (sometimes sounding astonishingly good) and showing us a glimpse of the adult they are becoming all too quickly. 

Great. Now I need a kleenex again.

Performances are running next week, Thursday 2/25 and Friday 2/26 at 7pm and two performances on Saturday, 2/27 at 2pm and 7pm. Tickets are available. And bring your own tissues.

Off to the Pub

After my annual pre-birthday trek to Jake's in downtown Portland for raw oysters and an icy cold vodka martini...I decided to trek some more over to the pub just down the street from home for a bit of music and cheer. I have come to the decision that a real neighborhood pub just two blocks from my door is officially going on my "must-have's in life" list. (right behind espresso, bordeaux and chevre)

From my vantage point in lovely LO I have several bars within easy walking distance, however, there's something about Maher's that always makes it my first choice. My pub is owned by real Irish people...you know, like, from Ireland. Can you imagine? In an age where most restaurants and "pubs" manufacture their atmosphere (think Applebee's or Olive Garden...wait, on second thought...DON'T) it's wholeheartedly refreshing to know people who bring to life simply what they do best. Which in this case is great food, a genuinely warm welcome and, of course, a perfectly pulled pint of Guiness...every time.

Maybe it's the lure of perfectly prepared Steak and Guiness Pie or colcannon that calls me. More likely, it's the family friendly atmosphere where you can catch up on the local gossip with your neighbors, and wind down after work without breaking the budget. Now, lest you think me the gullible type...well, I am, but that's another story...I dragged my "real" irish friend currently living in the horrifying suburbs of Beaver-killmenow-ton to join me and evaluate the authenticity of the experience. In no time at all, Carl and the Maher's were swapping stories of home and the next thing I knew I was joining in with the musicians singing Dirty Old Town, and all before the first pint was done.


I began to wonder why there are so few "Maher's" in the US, thought better of it, and ordered another beer.  Cead Mile Failte!