Comic Mom

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Apology Madness
I'm actually thinking about forgiving my mom, or at least about not calling her a bitch anymore. I really don't know, though. Forgive her for what? Giving birth to me? I mean, really, I don't know why I'm considering this move. Part of me also wants to apologize to an old boyfriend, but again, for what? For being a lesbian? For stripping for money when he didn't want me to? I don't know that any of these things actually need an apology. It's really so hard to figure out everything. I don't want my mom to die without my seeing her, but then again, the ball has been in her court for quite a while now. And this is the woman who didn't want to have anything to do with her dad, my grandpa, when he was dying. So, maybe, just maybe, there's a hint or two of truth to the whole "my mom's a bitch" thing. She does seem to be, but should I try and give her the come uppance that she deserves (hard, being that she seems to deserve a pretty big one), or should I just let it go and forgive her. People are so very, very difficult to understand sometimes.

Death, Death, Almost Everywhere
We were coming home from Cub Scout Day Camp a couple of weeks ago when we heard about Michael Jackson's death. And then, within seconds, we heard that Farrah Fawcett (middle name: Leni, which I have known since eighth grade) had died. Since then, lots of famous folks have died, including Steve McNair of the Tennessee Titans. And what a story that is, in a seeming murder-suicide with his girlfriend (he was married, with four children). Oh, lots of weird things are happening and I found out just tonight that my own maternal grandpa died, about one month ago. My mom did not talk with him, ever, and did not attend the funeral that my Grandpa Smith did not have. Yep. We're a weird bunch, all right. I wish I had met him; he wanted to keep me and raise me himself, after he found out about me, which was too late.

Anyway, if it hadn't been for him, I wouldn't be here right now.

An Absolutely Fabulous Day at Legoland--Happy Fourth of July!
We are real Legoland fans. We used to have annual Disneyland passes, but that got complicted and expensive. First, we were going with a co-op group of pretty awful moms (one of them saw her son once take something from a store and she didn't make him take it back!) and I didn't like that scene. But the big thing was that they search your belongings at Disneyland. Was I supposed to feel safer because they looked to see that a bomb wasn't hidden among diapers?!? Well, I surely did not. I wouldn't mind going from time to time, maybe, to Disneyland. I wrote an article about the searching and someone from Disney wrote me and said that Disney is going to start requiring biometric data for their annual passes. That bothered me more, even, than the search or the rather immoral moms that I then hung out with.

Today's experience, or rather, yesterday's experience with Legoland was scrumptious indeed. I can hardly think of a better place to spend a day that celebrates freedom. Legoland has been an enterprising free market business, as much as any business can be in now-socialist Amerika, and I am amazed at the new ideas and toys et al. that they come up with to make more money and attract more customers. It's up to Mr. Comic Mom and me to say no to many of these ideas, which we did. But the rides and designs at Legoland are truly amazing. I hope soon to post pictures. Partly because of our own economic downturn at the Gingerbread House, with Mr. Comic Mom's job loss in January, we have not been to Legoland since Caleb's birthday, in November. It was fabulous to go yesterday and the fireworks display last night was gorgeous. We also got to see fireworks as we were driving North on the 5 and 405 from Carlsbad (close to San Diego) last night. It was a sleepy drive home and Mr. Comic Mom stopped just south of LAX to let me drive, as I'd napped up until that time. We got home after midnight, as Legoland had stayed open until 9 p.m. Micah was scared by the fireworks at Legoland, but he was also fascinated by them, as we all were; they were totally awesome. Last year, we struggled to find parking somewhere to see some kind of fireworks, as residents of SoCal often have to do. However, all we had to do was to step out of the Brick and Take shop (where you build something and then buy it--I built my first Lego thing, by the way!) to watch a beautiful display right above us. Last year, we found a spot on Topanga Canyon Road to watch the fireworks, which was kinda cool because we were sort of above the level of the fireworks, but I'll take a good day at Legoland anytime over struggling to find parking around the San Fernando Valley.

Micah was able to ride the big boy cars, for ages 6-12, for the first time and I remembered when Caleb was riding in the 3-5 cars. Jadon was happy to ride in those last night. Caleb also was able to ride some rides by himself and Caleb and I had a blast on the dinosaur roller coaster (and yes, I bought the pictures that Legoland takes on the coaster:). It's funny how an amusement park can show you how much your children are growing. We've been going to Legoland ever since Caleb was about 18 months old. Turns out, Legoland is celebrating its tenth anniversary this week, which means that it opened just about the time that Mr. Comic Mom and I moved out here. Wow, just in time for us to have a baby and go. Sometimes, I think that Mr. Comic Mom wanted me to have a baby simply so that we'd have an excuse to go to Legoland (although, like Disneyland, plenty of people without children go there).

To have three healthy and happy children who are growing like weeds and a their wonderful dad is a real blessing indeed. This morning, as I reflect on our very happy day at Legoland, I am extremely thankful to have these blessings in my life.

Tee-Ball Parents
A week ago last Saturday, we had our last tee-ball game of the season. I must admit that I'm going to miss the tee-ball practices and games, the parents who actually care about their children. The whole time, I never saw a nanny bring a child to practice. It was parents, as rare as that sounds in the nanny-obsessed San Fernando Valley. Actually, it did my heart much good to see parents who enjoy being around their children, and who want to see their children succeed. Many times, as Mr. Comic Mom and I were taking Caleb, Micah, and Jadon and leaving the field, we'd see a tee-ball dad throwing to his child. Or we'd find a few dads throwing with each other, their proud sons watching. Or we'd talk with a mom on the way to the car who was interested in her daughter and how much fun she's having. This tee-ball thing seems to be all about fun, as no team wins or loses in tee-ball. Some people have a problem with that part of it, but I rather like the non-competitive atmosphere.

Being around children can make you believe that the world will be a better place one day. Being around these wonderful tee-ball children and their encouraging parents made me realize that for now, I know 14 children who will help to make the world better, at least if their parents have anything to do with it.

Happy Father's Day!
I'm painting the kitchen cabinets orange. Shhhh! Don't tell Mr. Comic Mom. I'm procrastinating on that very task right now because I'm a little bit scared. They're already kind of a washed orange, but the wood shows through and well, I'm going to make them really, really orange.

Why, you might ask, am I doing this task on Father's Day? Well, the truth is that we've been going and going and going for, oh, about three or four months now and in the midst of sports and dance and art and cooking classes and other miscellaneous things, we've been trying to remodel the Gingerbread House. And so, so, so, Mr. Comic Mom really wanted just to stay home and get some things done today, on what used to be the Lord's Day of Comedy and now has reverted, for now anyway, simply to the Lord's Day.

So, we're staying home and getting some things done today. And you know something? It's less stressful, less expensive, and more daddy-oriented than going on some big away-from-home extravaganza. We've been away from home enough lately. And last night, weirdly and wonderfully enough, Nino, who'd come to one of our yard sales (he buys electronics stuff) visited our neighbors who'd called him to buy some of their electronics stuff. In his van, which is loaded with stuff that he's picked up, he had a train set. Somehow, Caleb, Micah, and Jadon charmed him into giving us this train set for free. Being that we're trying to get rid of stuff at the Gingerbread House, I wasn't too keen on the idea at first. But the boys were thrilled when Nino took it out of his van and gave it to six excited little boy hands. The boys were so excited that they even forgot to sneak on the television for the rest of the evening. Or this morning. Mr. Comic Mom is helping them with it and the whole thing is set up and running. It may, as Caleb suggested yesterday, truly be a cool thing to go around the Christmas tree. After all, what's a Christmas tree without a train running around it?!?

Now, back to those cabinets . . .

The Last Comedy Show at Canoga Park Bowl: Who Cares?
Sure, I took copious notes on the last night of comedy at the Bowl. I've written about former Canoga Park Bowl (CPB) bartender, Diana. I've written about James Shamp (see here, here, here, and here), murdered shortly before my family and I got to the bowl, on Dec. 22, 2009, one week before his 49th birthday. I've written about audience regular, Claudia, who was a substitute grandma for my own children. By the way, I felt like something was up with management at the Bowl when I, who has spent a lot of money as a customer at the Bowl, was taking a picture of Claudia's real grandchildren, visiting from Ohio last week, and was told to stop taking flash pictures in the bowling area. No one had ever told me that before at the Bowl and I decided not to spend money bowling that night because I thought, as many pictures as I've taken in that bowling alley, that it was weird to be treated that way. One week later, as I learned that comics are no longer welcome at the Bowl, it made more sense.

I may have even written about Fred Berry's death. You may remember Rerun from ABC's What's Happening in the 70s. When I first started doing comedy at the Bowl, Rerun was hosting the show. One night, after a show, he died. I heard about it on the radio the next night, as I was going to a show in Orange County. Fred was a fabulous host and he used to always make a big deal about my breastfeeding. I don't think I'd even gotten pregnant with my now four-year-old, Jadon, yet. Sure, there've been lots of memories there. Just this year, we used to bring then Tiger and Wolf Scouts, Micah and Caleb, respectively, to the show in their cute Cub Scout outfits while Mommy took a few minutes to do some comedy.

And now, as with this season's tee-ball, as with Micah's time as a Tiger Scout and Caleb's time as a Wolf Scout, as with Mrs. R's cool art class with Jadon and me, as with Mr. Huck's cool art class for Caleb and Micah, as with our wonderful dance classes with Miss Sandra, it's all over now. Although we will probably continue with classes in Burbank, and Cub Scouts will be different but still there, Canoga Park Bowl is no more. Mr. Comic Mom, who now works close to Canoga Park Bowl, will no longer be meeting us after work. I will no longer have a place to go and do comedy on Tuesday nights.

Many thanks to fellow LRC columnist and North Carolina native, Wilt Alston, for suggesting that I will indeed move to something "even more cool." Perhaps. But right now, as my Gingerbread House kitchen is in a state of dismay because I'm painting it, as my boys sleep, and as Mr. Comic Mom has gone to work, I ponder the possibilities. It is at this point, when something as comically wonderful as Dante's Divine Comedy at the Bowl ends, that I contemplate going back home to North Carolina and becoming a Sunday School teacher (although I'd definitely have to drop the whole "unknown stripper" thing). I begin to wonder if this is the end of comedy for me, if I should just go home and be some kind of regular person with some kind of regular job. I begin to wonder if I should go back to teaching or some such.

As strange coincidence would have it, two days after Canoga Park Bowl ends, I was scheduled to produce an Ice House show. For those who wonder what a producer does, it's lose money when people don't come to the show. Last night's show was absolutely fabulous and I don't know what I could have done to promote it better. I had lots of people outside of Los Angeles who seem interested in coming to the show, but people here are so very jaded, I suppose, by living amidst a sea of comics that no one cares to come. The boys and I worked hard to promote this show, even going to Pasadena on Wednesday night to pass out fliers to businesses around the Ice House. Our efforts yielded about four audience members who weren't comics. But we made lemons out of lemonade, as Micah said in his stint on stage last night: Mr. Comic Mom taped the show and we're planning to put it on You Tube. It was filled with great comics: the wonderfully evil Mike Muratore, the ever-gracious and hilarious Jason Hadley, comedy guru Bobbie Oliver, and Branson, Mo. comedy winner Steve Halbert, and of course, me and the boys. It was a great show, too great to squander, and the world outside Los Angeles will soon be able to see it.

And it was a fabulous and unconventional Father's Day gift for Mr. Comic Mom, patient videographer, wonderful husband and father, who's been so busy coaching tee-ball and such lately that I haven't heard much laughter from him. Until last night. He got a greyhound, his favorite naughty drink; some tasty chicken strips; and some wonderful laughs. I really love to hear him laugh. So, so, so, despite paltry attendance from the L.A. crowd, and the end of comedy at Canoga Park Bowl, last night's show was a smashing success. The Bowl is gone and without meaning to sound too Shirley McClain, James' spirit seemed to tell me that it was indeed time to go on Tuesday night. But really, who cares? As Gymboree with the fabulous Stan Taffel and Gretchen Morgan ended when both those great teachers left and my boys moved on to dance and tee-ball and baseball and art and Cub Scouts, comedy at Canoga Park Bowl has ended and we will move on to something else, yet again. Perhaps life is all about moving on to something else.

I came home with three wonderful and loving little boys last night and their wonderful father helped to give them a bath and we all went to bed safely and healthily in the temporarily messy and being remodeled Gingerbread House. Sure, things are uncertain now and things have changed from what they were even one week ago. But I still have the very things that are most important to me. In fact, without my family, none of this comedy stuff would mean anything at all.

Comedy at Canoga Park Bowl is No More
I went to Canoga Park Bowl to find out last night that it was the last comedy show, just after the show's sixth anniversary. I hate last nights of comedy shows: Lucy's LaundryMart, for instance. However, Lucy's was at least planned and last night's was not, although closing the show makes sense after the absolutely horrid night last week. I felt strange vibes from that place. And last night, as I was leaving, I went by James' memorial. A car was parked right beside it, as if it had never been a memorial. I know this sounds crazy, but I felt James' spirit tell me to leave that place as I was snapping three final pictures of the memorial. So very much of my life these past few years has been lived at the Bowl. Jadon had a birthday party there in November and we also celebrated Mr. Comic Mom's birthday there with a cake this past December. Wow, I'm really still in shock from all this. I plan to write more later and post more pictures:

Dante, right before he goes on stage for the last show:

Part of me felt so very sad last night and part of me felt somewhat orgasmic, as if I'd just been set free. I explained to the boys, who were waiting when I got home, about what was happening. Caleb said he was sad about it, but glad that I wouldn't be going anymore. Since James' death, I think we've all been a bit worried about going there and usually, the boys go with me. We read some of Richard Wilbur's Opposites and went to bed. When I woke up this morning, I had this weird kind of feeling, as if someone had broken up with me and I was able to sleep to forget about it. Upon waking, however, I quickly remembered. What will I do without Canoga Park? Probably good things, but still, it's extremely sad. Extremely.

Here's a picture of Rebekah and me:

By the way, Rebekah is the star of the new Eating Out III. I ain't makin' that up! And yes, there are gay guys in it, too. :)

Goodbye Dante's Divine Comedy at Canoga Park Bowl!

Why I Won't Be Going Back to "Fantastic Sam's"
Look, I know that some people are probably going to read this and go, "Well, what did you expect?" And really, perhaps I am one of those people. In other words, I'd heard that you could get a really bad haircut at these places, but I'm telling you that we've had quite a week. Some journal readers may even remember a picture of the guy who usually cuts the boys' hair: Denny. He gave Jadon his first haircut and he has done a fine job of cutting Caleb, Micah, and Jadon's hair for about four years now, at the Yellow Balloon. And yes, we were supposed to go and see him on Wednesday for a pre-dance-recital haircut, but honestly, we had so much going on that I had to cancel. On Wednesday, from 1 p.m. until 8:30 p.m, we were at or around Burbank, taking classes. I had a proposal to do Wednesday night and an interview with a potential proposal writing client on Thursday morning at 8 a.m. Then, after the interview, which went well, I took the boys to an art show in Ventura, their very first art show! It was really cool, but with traffic, it took us over an hour and a half to get back to Burbank on Thursday night for dance class.On Friday, we had Caleb's piano lesson; my orthodontist appointment in Beverly Hills, which was rescheduled from earlier in the week and which, being that I'm about to get these braces off my teeth, I didn't want to miss; and then a haircut for me at my regular place in Santa Clarita. My regular stylist was supposed to cut their hair, but traffic from Beverly Hills to Santa Clarita was very bad and we were so late that she could only do my hair. We were supposed to go to Caleb's baseball practice after that, but we came by the house to get his baseball stuff and found out that practice had been cancelled because of rain earlier in the day. Whew! I thought, now I can take them to Fantastic Sam's or some such and get a haircut. Mr. Comic Mom suggested Super Cuts, which was near our house, but I also had to buy a gift certificate from the dance class at PF Chang's in Burbank and we ended up going to Burbank. Caleb and Micah's experience at the Fantastic Sam's there was good, with both non-native English speakers communicating well with me on what I wanted them to do with each boy's hair. That's the thing, though, each child had a different hairdresser. By the time things got around to Jadon, I assumed that the third hairdresser would be just as good. In fact, I told her to cut his hair like his brothers' hair and I said, specifically to keep it long on top. At one point, I went over and she said something about his cowlick, as one of the other hairdressers had. Yes, I know he has a cowlick. Just like my cowlick. Just like the cowlick of his brothers and of my mom. Evidently, cowlicks are quite hereditary; Denny told us that. In fact, the cowlick is not something that ever causes a problem with Denny. The third non-native English speaker did not ask much more but proceeded to chop his hair off so that he looked as though he was going into the Army. I should have, of course, watched her more closely. Now, I'll admit that currently, I'm editing some Department of Defense proposals, but honestly, as most of you know: I ain't much for the military. In addition, I absolutely can't stand the short buzzcuts of said military for my children. Some people are into that kind of haircut and that's okay for them, but it's not at all my cup of tea. I almost became physically sick when I saw my little boy's hair. I paid and left, but the more I looked at it, the sicker I became. I went back in and asked for a refund, telling the third hairdresser that he had a dance recital the next day and that she'd ruined his hair. Here's something that really angered me: She tried to sell me on it: "It'll be great for the summer!" Well, I don't really give a crap about the rest of the summer, by the end of which, I certainly hope that his hair has grown back to its wavy self. I care about tomorrow; that third hairdresser didn't even apologize, and it took her what seemed like forever to figure out how to give a refund. I am extremely thankful that I took dance pictures of Jadon pre-haircut and of course, he doesn't much care--thank goodness! "It must have been a miscommunication," the third hairdresser said, understating what happened and still not apologizing. Yes, it certainly was. And it was hairdresser incompetence as well. But you can bet that we won't be going back to the Fantastic Sam's in Burbank. And I told them so.

In the scheme of things, this probably isn't a big deal, or at least I'm trying to look at it that way. I've got a child who is beautiful, no matter the haircut. And for someone who had the cord wrapped around his neck twice at his ceasarean birth, Jadon is indeed very lucky to be with us. And we are indeed lucky to have him. I also think about the time that we were at Henry's tacos and in what seemed like an instant, he ran to the edge of the sidewalk, right beside busy Moorpark Drive. Fortunately, when I looked up and saw what happened and yelled for him with every shred of voice that I had, he returned quickly and safely. So, we're lucky to have him, as we are lucky to have all three boys. I am very thankful that everybody is healthy and that we are all together. And I will keep these things in mind today, at the dance recital, when I look at my baby's chopped off hair. It's only hair. And it will grow back!

Becoming a Native: Tonight Show Musings, et al.
I've often joked that I've lived in SoCal for ten years or so; therefore, I'm a native! And it is strange that today, I figured out a way to get from the shop of our tailor, Enzo, in Santa Monica after I picked up Caleb and Micah's hemmed pants for the dance recital, to Burbank for dance lessons, very easily. It's great to have Mr. Comic Mom as my GPS guide; I always call him when I need to figure out directions and he's always helpful. However, I'm beginning to know this town pretty well myself, which really scares me. Another way that I know I've been living in this crazy place too long is that I don't even think about going to, say, The Tonight Show, or all those places that tourists yearn to go. When I think of Burbank, I think of the library for storytime or of dance classes or of Larry's Hot Dogs (yum!) or Caleb's baseball practice or Micah's tee-ball or Jadon's art class that we take together with Mrs. R. (By the way, many thanks to my NCSU friend Todd McGee for correctly spelling tee-ball for me; I'm such a sports ignoramus that I didn't even think about the "tee" being like a similar one in golf. Therefore, I had previously spelled it "t-ball." What a sports doofus I am--thanks, Todd, for setting me straight on this one.)

I think of Johnny Carson Park, where we once went for an Easter Egg hunt, but I don't think of actually ever going to a taping of the Tonight Show, which I sometimes see people in line for when I pass by the NBC Studios in the late afternoon. Although my comic friends Tim Chizmar and Crazy Marvin recently went to a taping of this show, I don't really think much about going. Now, however, according to this article, the show is moving to nearby Universal City, a crowded place that has a very Blade Runner quality to it. And now, Jay Leno, whom I saw once at Charlie Goodnight's in the 80s, soon after I started working at WKNC-FM, is going to be leaving and I've yet to see the show. When Mr. Comic Mom and I first moved here, by the way, before he was even Mr. Comic Mom, he and I were walking near the Sherman Oaks exit of the 405 when we crossed the street and saw none other than Jay Leno in one of his fixed-up cars. Or so I thought. "Nice car!" I yelled. There was no top on it, so it was easy to chat with him. "It's not finished yet!" he yelled back. Well, maybe I'm somewhat of a car doofus as well. Oh, and there was also another time, around Halloween, when Caleb was around four, that we went into the Whole Foods while Micah, and then-baby Jadon, and Mr. Comic Mom stayed in the car. Caleb had on some kind of Halloween outfit and everybody was saying how cute he was. It was right after a Tonight Show taping, around 7 p.m. or so, at the Coldwater Canyon Whole Foods, and there was Jay Leno, buying some cheese or some such. Typical of SoCal, not one person seemed to notice Jay. However, everybody was noticing my son. So, even at four, my eldest was upstaging Jay Leno.

Who knows how long we'll continue to live in this Den of Iniquity called Los Angeles, which Charles Bukowski called, in a poem of his that I recently read, "this fucking place." Well, that's Bukowski for you. But often, an apt description. Nonetheless, we have our dance classes, and tee-ball and all the other stuff that makes for a growing family life. And we often forget about the glamour. And I just forgot also to mention that Enzo is an uncle to Carson Daly. See? I've really been living here far too long.

Comic Mom Happenings
Ice House Father's Day Show: Let's Make It Happen!
I am trying to produce a Father's Day show at the Ice House Annex on Thursday, June 18th at 7:30 p.m. Fathers get in for only $6, if they buy tickets before June 1st. We have some great comics lined up for this show, including the Serial Killer of Comedy, Mike Muratore, as our headliner! I need to pre-sell 20 tickets by June 1st to make this show work. If you would like to see this show, call me about buying tickets: 818-231-2574.

Canoga Park Bowl
It's the Peni$ Game Revival, Tittie Tuesday, and the Lord's Day of Comedy, all rolled into one special comedy extravaganza:
Dante's Divine Comedy at the Royal Room-Tonight!
Canoga Park Bowl
20122 Vanowen St.
Canoga Park, CA 91306
Every Tuesday Night at 8:30 p.m., see these great comics:
Byron Gathier * Tricia Shore * Jay Cramer * Mel Kohl * Dan Barton * John Diresta * Rebekah Kochan * Last Comic Standing's Dante * Ken Pringle * Greg Vaccariello * Marie Lake * Rashad Varma * Mike Muratore

Lulu's Beehive
Also, come see me and other great comics every Friday night!
Lulu's Beehive's Early Show
6:30 to 9:30 p.m.
Lulu's Beehive
13203 Ventura Blvd
Studio City, CA 91604

Read My Latest Journal Entries
"Carolina Delights"

"Hey, Somebody Likes Me!"

Peni$ Game Find-A-Word Book: Coming Soon!
That's right, we hope to have the long-awaited Peni$ Game Find-A-Word Book ready for you to purchase by Father's Day. More details coming soon!

Carolina Delights
As helicopters hover overhead, par for the course in Los Angeles, I sometimes long for the comforts of North Carolina. Even though California is a gorgeous place, there's not much country ham or sweet tea, if any, and there's no good barbecue. In case any Yankees are reading, barbecue means pulled pork, not some ketchup-based sauce contraption that you put on beef ribs. This weekend, we cooked some chicken and dumplings and last night, for dessert, I thought I'd make the following tasty treat. To me, this wonderful concoction tastes like "Mulligan's Stew Cookies," which I made as a child. Mulligan's Stew was one of those public television shows that we were forced to watch in the government schools of Wilkes County. Having said that, I absolutely loved it, as I did most other t.v. shows, especially the ones that got us out of some dumbass assignment. Anyway, I recently helped to edit our church's cookbook, which I greatly enjoyed doing, and here is one of the recipes:

Carolina Delights

2 c. sugar
1 stick butter
1/2 c. milk
1/2 c. peanut butter
1/4 c. cocoa
2 1/2 c. quick oats

Combine sugar, butter, cocoa, and milk in a sauce pan. Bring to a boil. Continue boiling for 1 1/2 minutes. Remove from heat. Add oats and peanut butter. Stir until mixed. Drop from teaspoon onto waxed paper or foil. Allow to set. Cookies are best served while still warm. Very good cold also.

I might add here that these things are fabulous at any step of the process. I tried sampling them throughout, i.e., before the peanut butter and oats, before the peanut butter but after the oats, etc. There's just no point at all in this recipe where anything is lacking. My four-year-old woke up this morning asking for them. That's a testimony for tasty if there ever was one.

A Very Sad Story
I can't stand the L.A. Times--no secret there--but tonight, I was skimming through the Friday edition, which we receive at the Gingerbread House, and saw an extremely sad story. an extremely sad story. Brock and Davina Husted made a wonderfully cute couple. She was expecting their third child. He'd built wrought iron gates for the rich and famous, such as Oprah Winfrey and Mel Gibson. Brock and Davina lived in Ventura County. For those who don't know Ventura County, it is an absolutely lovely place. Further south than where this murder took place, Caleb and Micah attend Cub Scouts. The boys took a chess class last fall in the City of Ventura. I take every possible chance that I can get to go to Ventura County. It seems a welcome respite from the hustle and bustle of L.A. County and when we've gone to beaches around the Ventura area, the people we've met have been fabulous. Therefore, it seems especially horrid when, in what's left of small California beach towns, a murderer would use the beach to access a house with an open door and murder a pregnant woman and her husband. And yet, it happened. This past Wednesday night. There is talk that it was a random murder and talk that it was done by a hit man. The murderer was wearing a motorcycle helmet and a jumpsuit. Although I certainly hope that the thief is caught, nothing will bring back the two beautiful parents who died in this tragedy; nor will anything bring back the baby that was due to be born later this year. The couple's 9-year-old son and 11-year-old daughter were in the house at the time; supposedly, the son witnessed his dead parents in the hallway of his home. He and his sister ran to a neighbor's house for help. What a terrible thing for this little guy to go through and although his sister was asleep during the actual murders, she must live with the pain of such a horrible event for the rest of her life. There will be no baby in the fall, as the family had hoped to welcome. It is a sad, sad story indeed, in the middle of beautiful and homey Ventura County. Please keep the children and the rest of the Husted families in your thoughts and prayers.

The Luckiest Job in the World
This entry is not the one that I originally wrote. I'm about fed up with Live Journal. I wrote an entry, saved it, and it didn't show up. So, in an even bigger rush, I am now having to rewrite it. This live journal thing is making it harder to write and I am very angry as I write this, but I hope that I can capture the essence of the original entry:

It is so very easy to forget, as I'm busy carting around children all day, how very fortunate I am to be a mom. I'd taken Caleb to his piano lesson and had a few minutes to vote against all the California propositions that are trying to raise taxes (but it's for the children, for the mentally ill, etc.). I went to the furniture store, where we usually vote, and there sat three wonderful grandparent-looking types, helping people to vote. They'd only had 100 people or so in today, as opposed to 800 or so in the presidential election. The grandpa-looking guy told me that he didn't know where we'd be voting when the furniture store, which has been there as long as we've been in California, closes. It is now going out of business. As I voted and then looked for Micah and Jadon, who both thought that hiding under the furniture was great fun, I thought of how relaxing it would be to just hang out there for a while. I jokingly asked the voting trio if they'd like to trade places with me, as I rattled off my to-do-list this afternoon: pick up Caleb from his lesson, take Jadon to dance class, take Micah to t-ball. "Why yes!" said the grandmother-looking woman who'd told me that she liked my Southern accent when I gave her my name and address. It seemed so very tempting to me to sit there, in the midst of half-price furniture items, talking to adults all afternoon. While it seemed to her a most wonderful thing to be carting around my lovely guys. "Three boys!" she said, with excitement.

Sometimes I forget how wonderful it is to be a mom. I get so bogged down in getting everybody to everywhere that I sometimes forget how lucky I am to be doing this job, although I consider motherhood more of a state of being than a job. I am fortunate indeed and when other people see how lucky I am and tell me so, it helps me to remember it myself. I am much more thankful now that I am a mom.

Acupuncture: I love it!
Recently, on Facebook, I mentioned something about a fabulous acupuncture experience. Things had been seeming to go in a very downward spiral for me. After Mr. Comic Mom got a new job, however, I started going more or less weekly to Brandon. You can read more about him at http//www.herbalroom.com. Things have been much better for me, emotionally and physically, since I've been going to Brandon.

I hope to write more about acupuncture, et al. soon, but I need to get ready for baseball, et al. this evening, including a gig at Lulu's Beehive before the night is o'er.

Losing My Obamafriends
Since I found my natural family, I've lost a lot of supposed friends. They've been leaving in droves. The first, who helped us move to California, being that she lived in Los Angeles at the time, had enough of our friendship when I suggested that she stop dating married men. I know; I should be more tolerant, but really, it seemed to cause her a lot of problems and frankly, I was tired of hearing about those. Another false friend, a bridesmaid in my wedding no less, couldn't quite deal with all the bad yet factual things that I've been saying about the government schools. Being a teacher herself, an "educator" as she blatently reminded me when she called to tell me she didn't want to read any of my stuff anymore, this one is a high-salutin', goose-steppin' member of the NEA, which the Communists of America list on their Web site. Uh, she didn't want to hear that last part either. Another, a manipulative little number who worked her way into signing the North Carolina marriage license, which I allowed via my own guilt and supposed loyalty to her, stopped talking to me either because I found my mom or because I didn't like the fact that, instead of paying attention to her daughter, she put her on drugs at about age 10. Legal prescription drugs, of course, but I remember how much her daughter's personality changed into that of a robot, with a distinct stare in her once-joy-filled eyes. It hurt me and it's no skin off my back that the former highness doesn't speak to me anymore.

Then there was the former godmother of our children, who'd promised to help raise them spiritually, who didn't like it when I suggested that her upcoming divorce might be causing her some stress. Could I really make up this crap? I know it seems unreal and I know that these people have some real issues, but then again, she and I had been friends for more than a decade and I'm very glad that she threw her little hissy fit before my children had grown that attached to her.

This last loss, however, was a shock to me, coming, as it did, in a rather hectic week, the week before Mother's Day. Almost two years ago, when we were in North Carolina and this little number had treated us all to pizza one night, she and I were in the car together and she told me about a friend of hers who'd called her and said she didn't want to talk with her ever again. She also told me, much to my surprise, that the reason she didn't have children is because she wasn't able to, after an abortion years earlier. After I published this article, however, she also decided that she wanted nothing more to do with me: http://www.lewrockwell.com/shore/shore17.html

Who's next? I don't really care anymore. Most people are pretty crappy and if I don't have any friends, that's okay. I do have a wonderful and loving husband and three fabulous boys. And really, I don't care much about anything else.

Anybody Got Some Vodka?
The next time I try to produce an Ice House show, get everybody ready for t-ball, baseball, and dance pictures, and prepare for Mother's Day, all in the same week, please take out a switch and tan my hide good. Fortunately, the Cub Scout campout for this weekend was cancelled and I've hardly been happier, ever in my life, for a cancelled event. As it was, we finished the dance pictures around 1 p.m., with a picture of the boys in their dance costumes and I in mine. I guess I never realized how much I miss dance until I started taking it again this year. What started out as a tap for fitness class resulted in a ballet class that places me in the recital. In my class, there are two mother and daughter combos and one father and daughter. My own boys have their own classes, but who knows, maybe one day, we'll have some classes together. In fact, our wonderful teacher, Miss Sandra, has let Caleb come to a couple of my tap classes and dance with the adults.

"Your sons take dance?!?" comic Phil Perrier said after the Ice House Annex show on Thursday night, when I told him I'd missed my jazz dance class and had to leave Caleb and Micah's class early for the show. "Aren't you afraid they'll turn out to be fags?"

Well, no, I'm not, Phil. If anything, Caleb, who's surrounded by two beautiful little girls in the recital tap dance, has certainly enjoyed being in a room full of women. Micah's not complaining either. And Jadon said of his class, in which he is the only male, "It's full of beautiful women!" Now, my money's betting that my little guys will be just as straight as their dad. And believe me, their dad is one of the straightest guys in the world.

Sure, I went a bit crazy on the picture snapping, but they sure do look like handsome young gentlemen to me. And no, I'm not a bit biased.

Mommy's Night Out Comedy at the Ice House Annex: Tonight!
Come see the DIY Network's John DiResta, the Tonight Show's Phil Perrier, Stand Up Academy's Bobbie Oliver, Jason Hadley, Les Kurkendaal, Comic Mom Tricia Shore, Crazy Marvin, and Fia Perrara.

Whether you are a mom or you have a mom, this show is worth the drive to Pasadena!

Mommy's Night Out Comedy
Ice House Annex
Thursday, May 7th at 7:30 p.m.
24 North Mentor Avenue
Pasadena, CA
Tickets are $10 at the door; $8 before 6 p.m., and $6 each for groups of five or more. There is a two-drink minimum.

Call Comic Mom Productions at 818-231-2574 to reserve your tickets!

Finally, A Lew Rockwell Column!
Sure, I stayed up way past my bedtime last night, until almost 6 a.m., but I have finally written another LRC column, which should be published in the next couple of days. Hooray! Maybe this funky writer's block that I've been having will go away. :)

Yard Sale!
We're having one at the Gingerbread House this morning. Please stop by and buy some of our junk! Micah, by the way, is the only one with any sense in this family: He's still asleep. :)

Ode To A Couch
We are trying to spruce up the Gingerbread House these days, mainly by getting rid of the enormous amount of crap that we've accumulated in the past nine years or so that we've been in California. For those who are keeping score, no, we never intended, consciously at least, to be in California for over a year. Those who kindly remember such trivia will remember that we planned to go back to North Carolina after I finished the screenwriting program at UCLA. However, I got pregnant with Caleb during that year and then, we bought a house, and then I got pregnant again. And again. And here we are. Here we are, three sons and almost ten years after we left North Carolina (right after a hurricane that flooded most of Eastern N.C.); we are still in the Gingerbread House. Mr. Comic Mom is coaching Micah's t-ball team and our three children have been born at Cedars-Sinai Hospital. Little did I dream, growing up in a tiny North Carolina town that was not really a town, that my first three sons would be born in such a trendy and star-studded place. Yet, here I am, with three children, a helpful husband (also father of said children), and a mortgage, living in Los Angeles.

Nonetheless, I have wonderful things happen that amaze me here, in the midst of the Den of Iniquity itself. Mr. Comic Mom's dad is planning to come to L.A. near the end of May. A bit of background: We haven't seen him in over two years. And so, between that and Mr. Comic Mom's new technical writing contract job, we have lots of incentive and a bit of money to spruce up the Gingerbread House. I am itching to replace the couch that we got when we moved in. It was a fabulous couch, very soft and velvety and green, and I've nursed many times on this couch; possibly, I've even conceived on it. But as the boys have grown older, it has become messy and torn. I perused Craig's List last night for a new one. Followers of my lesbian blog know that I've used Craig's List for other, more devious, perusals. Nonetheless, it's a great place to find furniture. Well, saying that, I can tell you that only a few items met my high standards last night and I only called about one. The owner of what will be our new couch is named Jason. He lives in Hancock Park; for those of you who know Los Angeles, that's a long way from the confines of the San Fernando Valley, where I am one of the few exfoliating, homeschooling, breastfeeding, lesbian comic moms. No doubt about that.

Jason was particularly kind, in this city of devilish behavior, to open his home to two adults and three children, all weary t-ball-laden travelers. We'd come from our practice in Burbank, down the 5 South to the 110. On the way, we passed Dodger Stadium and the boys asked if there was a game tonight. Sports aficionado Mr. Comic Mom informed us that there are 162 Dodger games in one year. We also talked about Manny Ramirez's $45 million salary, and we saw his smiling mug on both Spanish and English billboards, the Spanish one as we rode through Koreatown. It was like a mini-vacation to get to this couch.

The couch is awesome, by the way, and I only wish I had a picture to show you, although, if we'd taken one, we probably wouldn't have downloaded it by now. :) Our schedule has been hectic, even on the Lord's Day. Jason had returned from having lunch with his Grandma prior to his meeting us. He was absolutely wonderful, claiming two nephews and a daughter on which to practice good behavior toward children. Gosh, I love people who treat my children with respect.

The couch is red and black and it was featured in a design magazine, while it was in Jason's former apartment, which was in Hollywood. Jason works in film, of course. Look, even our General Practitioner in this crazy town is married to a Lennon Sister. It's hard to throw a rock in this bizarre town without hitting someone who's made it, wants to make it, or is making it in the film or television industry. I hope that Jason does make it and part of the reason that I wish for his success, besides the respect he showed to our whole family, is that he is a fabulous designer. He painted his living room in a totally awesome way and it is obvious that he is a very creative soul.

Sometimes crazy crap turns good in this town and I am able to realize that some people are awesome and nice and are meant to be in your life, if only just to give you a couch on which to rest your weary bones. By the way, I considered it a pretty good sign that the boys, including Mr. Comic Mom, flopped down on the to-be-in-the-Gingerbread-House-if-all-goes-well couch at first chance. Everybody seemed quite comfortable. And for a mom, the ultimate test is that everyone is happy.

I'm working on getting rid of a lot of crap at the Gingerbread House and bringing in only stuff with good vibes. I think that Jason's awesome and well-designed couch is a good start.

It doesn't hurt that I saw a Bible beside Jason's laptop--again, good vibes from that. And it also is cool that every time I bring fabulous new things into the house, I am inspired to get rid of even more crap and surround myself with beauty. Thanks, Jason, for the inspiration.