Naw..but Karmin with one of it's members from Nebraska is probably just as cool.
If you haven't yet, then get out your computer, oh wait you probably have your computer or Internet getting to device handy if you are reading this...well anyway go to YouTube.com and check out Karmin. Or you could just click on this link.
I'm really loving these guys. Their covers are pretty hot, but also I'm absolutely digging their original stuff, and I don't know what it is about lead singer Amy Heidemann but she's entertaining to watch. She's got some fantastic facial expressions that make me giggle inside, very electric. Can I use that? Electric well, she's got something. And she's corn fed so that makes it even better, as she hails from Seward, Nebraska.
I think these guys have "it". They appear to have actual talent, and even some personality. And apparently they will have their next album dropping April 24. Dropping? Who am I? lol...
Showing posts with label Nebraska. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nebraska. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Going home
So it has been almost a month since Mr. Vasey, Flaire, Steamers and I returned from our very quick trip back to "The Good Life" ... back to Nebraska.
There are some things that I really miss about my hometown, and about Nebraska in general.
First and foremost there is Runza....
Oh how I love me some Runza
There really is nothing like a Swiss Mushroom Runza with Runza fries and everything dipped in a little tub o' Runza Ranch. Runza seriously has the best freaking Ranch in the entire world. It's a little bit like heaven on earth, I'm sure, actually no I'm positive it's heaven on earth. My mouth is watering just thinking about it....oh Runza how I miss thee.
If you have never had a Runza sandwich, then you need to go to Nebraska and have one. It truly is something that everyone should experience. I won't even go into details about how wonderful a Runza sandwich is becuase honestly I don't think you can handle it. Lets just say that it really should be considered one of the great wonders of the world. Those triangles out in the desert have got nothing on a Swiss Mushroom Runza...nothing.
The second thing about my home town that I especially enjoy is the purple house. It's somewhat of a landmark there.
"Where do you live?" one might say..."Oh just turn left at the purple house...."
Or someone lost, needing directions, "How do you get to the high school?" and once again..."Just turn at the purple house and it's a block down on the left."
We don't know street names, just landmarks...and the purple house is one of the best landmarks in town.
She is a majestic beast...a little weathered with time. But there is nothing cooler than having a purple house in your hometown. Especially a purple house with turquois trim, a psychadelic privacy fence and 2 Dish Network satellites in the front yard....
Ya I know, its really not much of a street.
I also took Mr. Vasey down to the crick. (It's crick not creek in these here parts) There was something I really wanted him to see.
This is the same crick that a few of us would tube down in the summers. When the water was high enough, all these rocks created "rapids" and gave us our thrill. This kind of tubing is not tubing for wussies. Many a teenager, myself included, usually came away with a few abrasions due to slipping off said tube, falling on said rocks and getting pushed downstream. But none of us died, none of us needed rescued...all in good fun. No one got their eyes poked out either.
So I made Mr. Vasey take a little walk with me, while I told him a story about the mystery of the Medicine Creek...
The old folks say that a terrible thing happened here about 70 odd years ago... a bunch of teenagers were down here at the crick 'parking' (if ya know what I mean) when the great earthquake of 1950 happened, I believe it was a 9.0 on the ol Richter Scale, and the earth just crumbled beneath them all and launched them straight into the water... They all perished, under her mighty current, they were helpless. The townspeople left the cars in the exact spot where they fell in. They were too devasted, losing so many young people, and also in rememberance of what happened that terrible night. They also used the wreckage as a lesson to the younger generation, to keep their hands to themselves....
No one is sure how many lost their lives that fateful evening. Some say 50 others say 100.
But legend has it, if you go down to the Medicine late at night you can hear their screams and water splashing as they gulp for air and fight for their lives...
Just kiddin', that's not really what happened...but the truth isn't nearly as exciting. Apparently these cars are there simply to stop or slow down erosion. To make sure the banks of the Medicine Creek don't wear away too much and take over the golf course, which is on the other side. See wasn't my story way better?
After our exhausting hike through the wilderness on the banks of the Medicine Creek, I thought I'd capture the tranquility of our downtown. On a Saturday afternoon, most businesses are closed, which allowed me to have my pick of parking spaces.
I really wish I could've seen Stan the One Man Band....
The main reason for the trip though wasn't to go sightseeing. It was really to celebrate the union of a very special pair. The patriarchs of our family. The people who raised seven children out on a farm south of town, the grandparents to over 20, and great-grandparents to gosh...I really don't know...but it's a lot, more than 20. But they've been together for over 60 years, and still share the love they had as newlyweds back in 1949.
So with our bellies full of my Uncle Roger's prime rib and cheesy potatoes, and a red mustache from drinking too much red drink (Kool-Aid to those of you not as saavy as Mr. Vasey and I) we said good-bye to Nebraski. It was a good trip and of course we'll be back.
Although one other thing worth mentioning is this.
If you ever find yourself driving along Interstate 70 in Kansas, make sure you look to the north.
There are simply hundreds and miles of windmills, and we decided that they change direction with the wind as well, becuase we swore they were facing the other way on the way up to Nebraska.
And they are huge, I kinda wanted to get out and go stand by one but they were pretty far off the highway, and probably a lot further away than one realizes. Plus Mr. Vasey said "no". But they gave us enough tailwind to push us along, back home to Texas.
So there you have it, all the sights and sounds from the heartland. From Nebraska "The Good Life"
Thursday, September 10, 2009
I'm not a hick...I'm correct
So I'm back from my big, bad, fly-by-the-night trip to the heartland, to "The Good Life", that's right....Nebraska. (I'll have more on my trip later.)
I was talking to Spanks McDuders last night on the phone, we stayed at her casa in the sprawling metroplex of McCook. (pop. 7,994) She wasn't there for the weekend, she decided to take off to California to visit another friend of ours, so we had the run of the place. On the phone last night she asked me. "Um, so I come home, and my dictionary is out, left open to the 'L's' what's that all about?"
It took me a minute to remember, you see after spending the day with the family on Saturday, Mr. Vasey and I retired to the hacienda de Spanky with an 18 pack of Coors Light. I distinctly remember getting the dictionary out but I couldn't remember what we were looking up...
"The only L word that came to my head, that the two of you would be looking up was lesbian, but it was open to the 'lu' page."
Hmmmm still thinking....no we weren't looking up lesbian, pretty sure we both know what the meaning of that is..."Oh yes!" I told her. It all started coming back to me, "we got into a discussion about accents and how, I don't have an accent becuase I'm from the midwest," and he, Mr. Vasey that is, said that even though I'm from the midwest there are things that I say that are distinctly midwestern. Like how I put the word "right" in strange places in sentences, or I say "pop," and not soda or what the people round here call Coke, even if they want a Pepsi they say Coke (now tell me how intelligent that is?) and how I refer to lunch as lunch, supper as supper and dinner can be either or.
Mr. Vasey was brought up that dinner is always the evening meal. And brought up to believe that is correct way to refer to the evening meal. Referring to it as 'supper' is just country in his opinion.
It actually brings me back to a time when his mother called to ask me over for Christmas Dinner one time....the conversation went something like this.
"So I was wondering if you would like to join us for Christmas dinner?"
"Sure," I say. "Would that be dinner-lunch or dinner-supper?"
She, clearly confused by my question, responds. "Well, dinner-dinner."
Me, clearly confused by her response, had to ask again, "So...like dinner at night or like dinner at noon-time?"
"Well...dinner..." she says.
Finally we get it figured out, she meant dinner, the evening meal....
Well I have always been brought up that dinner was the big meal, or a fancy meal. Lunch is just lunch, you have a samich or maybe a burger or something, but if you have a roast for the noon meal, where the whole family sits down and eats, that's a dinner.
For instance, after mass on Sunday we would have a Sunday dinner, a roast or some other hearty meal, and for supper on those days we would have popcorn and milk...num num...
But there would be occasions where the big, sit down meal would be the evening meal, so instead of it just being a supper of goulash or spaghetti, we would have pork chops, mashed potatoes and gravy or something, that again is a dinner.
Just to be clear breakfast is always breakfast as the morning meal, that is unless its brunch.
So that's the way I've always referred to dinner, the big meal, the sit down meal. And Mr. Vasey thought I was wrong. So we looked it up in the dictionary. And just so that everyone else can be clear. Here are the definitions we found.
Lunch: a light midday meal between breakfast and dinner; luncheon.
Supper: the evening meal, often the principal meal of the day.
Dinner: the main meal of the day, eaten in the evening or at midday.
So there. Never doubt a midwesterner when it comes to issues of speech...
Take that "ya'll" I'm fixin ta open a can o woop ass up in herra.
I was talking to Spanks McDuders last night on the phone, we stayed at her casa in the sprawling metroplex of McCook. (pop. 7,994) She wasn't there for the weekend, she decided to take off to California to visit another friend of ours, so we had the run of the place. On the phone last night she asked me. "Um, so I come home, and my dictionary is out, left open to the 'L's' what's that all about?"
It took me a minute to remember, you see after spending the day with the family on Saturday, Mr. Vasey and I retired to the hacienda de Spanky with an 18 pack of Coors Light. I distinctly remember getting the dictionary out but I couldn't remember what we were looking up...
"The only L word that came to my head, that the two of you would be looking up was lesbian, but it was open to the 'lu' page."
Hmmmm still thinking....no we weren't looking up lesbian, pretty sure we both know what the meaning of that is..."Oh yes!" I told her. It all started coming back to me, "we got into a discussion about accents and how, I don't have an accent becuase I'm from the midwest," and he, Mr. Vasey that is, said that even though I'm from the midwest there are things that I say that are distinctly midwestern. Like how I put the word "right" in strange places in sentences, or I say "pop," and not soda or what the people round here call Coke, even if they want a Pepsi they say Coke (now tell me how intelligent that is?) and how I refer to lunch as lunch, supper as supper and dinner can be either or.
Mr. Vasey was brought up that dinner is always the evening meal. And brought up to believe that is correct way to refer to the evening meal. Referring to it as 'supper' is just country in his opinion.
It actually brings me back to a time when his mother called to ask me over for Christmas Dinner one time....the conversation went something like this.
"So I was wondering if you would like to join us for Christmas dinner?"
"Sure," I say. "Would that be dinner-lunch or dinner-supper?"
She, clearly confused by my question, responds. "Well, dinner-dinner."
Me, clearly confused by her response, had to ask again, "So...like dinner at night or like dinner at noon-time?"
"Well...dinner..." she says.
Finally we get it figured out, she meant dinner, the evening meal....
Well I have always been brought up that dinner was the big meal, or a fancy meal. Lunch is just lunch, you have a samich or maybe a burger or something, but if you have a roast for the noon meal, where the whole family sits down and eats, that's a dinner.
For instance, after mass on Sunday we would have a Sunday dinner, a roast or some other hearty meal, and for supper on those days we would have popcorn and milk...num num...
But there would be occasions where the big, sit down meal would be the evening meal, so instead of it just being a supper of goulash or spaghetti, we would have pork chops, mashed potatoes and gravy or something, that again is a dinner.
Just to be clear breakfast is always breakfast as the morning meal, that is unless its brunch.
So that's the way I've always referred to dinner, the big meal, the sit down meal. And Mr. Vasey thought I was wrong. So we looked it up in the dictionary. And just so that everyone else can be clear. Here are the definitions we found.
Lunch: a light midday meal between breakfast and dinner; luncheon.
Supper: the evening meal, often the principal meal of the day.
Dinner: the main meal of the day, eaten in the evening or at midday.
So there. Never doubt a midwesterner when it comes to issues of speech...
Take that "ya'll" I'm fixin ta open a can o woop ass up in herra.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
114 South Lincoln Street
The house at 114 South Lincoln Street in Wayne America holds a lot of memories.
This was the house I lived in my senior year of college. It was pretty rough living there, what with the rent being an astronomical $42.50 month (Well $85 total since I had a roommate). I'm not really sure what this says about Niner (my roomie) and I...but on more than one occassion we were unable to pay said rent, as we were broke. Both of us had jobs and still had trouble coming up with $42 a month to pay rent. Luckily our landlords were cool...
This house was the house that 'you had to know someone' to live there. And how I came to live there, well that's another long story. But for this blog post I just wanted to talk about the granduer of this beautiful home.
Pull Switches
The house was pretty darn old. It was at least 80 years old when I was living there, as Niner and I pulled up the 'tile' in one of the upstairs bedrooms and there were newspapers under the tile dated back to the 1920's. And so I'm guessing at some point electricity was added to this house somewhat as an after thought.
The only actual light switches in this house were for the porch light and for the front living room. The rest of the house was pull string switches. I'm a wuss when it comes to being in the dark, so I would have the light on in the living room, then have to walk to the kitchen, pull string light, then back to the living room, shut off that light, then up the stairs, pull string light, then back to the kitchen, shut off pull string light, then into Niner's room, pull string light, back to the stairs, shut off pull string light, then to my room, pull string light, back to Niner's room, pull string light, then finally to my bed.
Yes I know I could've walked in the dark, or just skipped a few of those lights, but my room was dark and Niners room was messy and I had to walk through her room to get to my room and god only knows what I'd step on walking blindly through her darkened room. Plus if I couldn't find the pull string in the dark, I would get panicked and start frantically swinging my arm in the air like a blind mad woman searching for the pull string. And it seems the drunker I was the more vivid my imagination would turn my clothes strewn about my floor into, snakes, gators or goblins inching thier way closer to nip at my toes. It just wasn't good for my heart.
The bathroom
The toilet in this house was also apparently an after thought. It was built under the stairs, again fashioned with a pull string light. The coolest thing about this bathroom was the bear claw bathtub, the most uncool thing about this bathroom was its lacking of plumbing, in which case I mean, it lacked a sink. So after using said toilet, one must either wash up in the tub, or in the kitchen. Which is where the only sink in the whole house was located.
But something really cool was waking up on a nice spring day, going down to the john only to find a nice little mushroom had grown out of the base of the toilet where the actual toilet met the floor. Really was a great way to bring the outdoors in...
Additionally, since there was only a bathtub in this residence, this also became the decline of my cleanliness. It was just such a pain in the arse to bath everyday. When you wake up 15 mins before class is supposed to start, and go from classes to work to home again, by the time you walk in the door at 9 p.m. taking a bath is the last thing on your mind.... no more like 'hey where's E-Z E? (E-Z E was our beer bong) and whose place we at tonight?' was more the way our minds went. Plus we had a theory about cleanliness. "Cleanliness is next to Godliness" so for some odd reason, when we went out after getting all gussied up, no one would hit on us, but if we went out after not bathing for a week, the guys were abound....Thinking back now, it grosses me out somewhat, kinda makes me think "what kinda scent were we putting off?"
The bedrooms
The bedrooms (bedrooms being a term I use very loosely here) were connected. As I stated before, I had to walk through Niner's room to get to my room. She had the only closet, I had a makeshift rod just sorta hangin on the wall. I was able to utilize about 10 percent of the rod, as the other 90 percent was being used by someone elses clothes. Whose clothes? I have no idea, apparently the landlord's son (who used to live there but was in the army or something) I don't know I didn't ask questions. You tend to not raise much of a stink over such trivial things when your only paying $42/month for rent.) There was also a dresser that didn't belong to me filled with someone elses clothes. Really the only thing in the room that was actually mine was a fan, my clothes (which were mostly on the floor)and a crate that I set my clock on. The bed wasn't even mine. Which also thinking back kinda grosses me out, cuz who knows how many people actually used that bed. Well I guess I'm still alive, so it couldn't have been too bad.
Gas heater, toilet explosion and learning a life lessons
So the house had just one gas heater located in what I guess you would call the dining room. It was supposed to heat the whole house. Though heating an 80 year old home when the temp outside is 15 below freezing and the wind chill factor was 30 below freezing doesn't really do a whole lot. One Christmas break, Niner and I both left for about a week to go home, and the pipes busted. We came home to a black soot explosion in our bathroom. Sewage everywhere. It was disgusting and had been siting there for god knows how long. Lesson #1, don't turn the heat completely off when leaving on break, cuz yo pipes will break.
So with this heater, lets just say our heating bills were high. And since our rent was so expensive we went a few months without paying the bill. Though in climates such as ours in Northeastern Nebraska, we found out that they won't turn your gas off for not paying your bill. We were quite pleased with this. So we continued to keep our house all toasty and warm. This is where lesson #2 comes into play...Then came March, and in March in Nebraska, ol Mother Nature can sometimes surprise you with a nice warm day, or maybe even a few nice warm days, like 3 in a row...the 3 in a row being the operative phrase. Yes apparently the gas company isn't allowed to shut off your gas unless you have 3 days of temps above a certain temp. And we had apparently reached that threshold, as I came home one day to discover no more heat. And furthermore a $500 gas bill for not paying for like 3 months. Well it was March, almost April...I was moving in May....we'd be ok...hmmmm not so much.
Nebraska is quite notorious for teasing it's residents with an early spring only to be side-swiped by an April blizzard or freezing rain. We knew this and we didn't care, when the temps dropped, we just bundled up to watch TV, sipped cocoa spiked with peppermint schnapps, I signed on for a few extra overnights at my job, we made it through, we're midwestern girls, takes a lot to bring us down.
And leaving
I moved out that May, after graduation, though I didn't walk, they probably wanted me to pay my parking tickets or something, in order to walk across the stage. I was taking a stance, I thought it was BS that I had to pay $30/year to park on campus, so I just reused parking tickets I got previously, placed them on my car and went to class, this worked for a while but after some time, the campus cops got wise to my game, and started issuing me tickets again. I ended up having to pay those tickets to to get my diploma, my mother was begining to get suspicious that I didn't even graduate since I didn't have a diploma to prove that I did. And yes I realize it would've been cheaper to just buy a damn sticker, hmmm maybe I actually learned three lessons living in that house.
So that spring after classes were done I left Wayne America and the house on 114 South Lincoln. I left my cat Doogie with Niner, I left my area rug, my futon, my chair...everything that didn't fit in my Cavelier and went home. Off to join the Navy...or so I thought. Who knew then that a few months later a couple of planes would crash into some buildings and send everything into a tailspin...
This was the house I lived in my senior year of college. It was pretty rough living there, what with the rent being an astronomical $42.50 month (Well $85 total since I had a roommate). I'm not really sure what this says about Niner (my roomie) and I...but on more than one occassion we were unable to pay said rent, as we were broke. Both of us had jobs and still had trouble coming up with $42 a month to pay rent. Luckily our landlords were cool...
This house was the house that 'you had to know someone' to live there. And how I came to live there, well that's another long story. But for this blog post I just wanted to talk about the granduer of this beautiful home.
Pull Switches
The house was pretty darn old. It was at least 80 years old when I was living there, as Niner and I pulled up the 'tile' in one of the upstairs bedrooms and there were newspapers under the tile dated back to the 1920's. And so I'm guessing at some point electricity was added to this house somewhat as an after thought.
The only actual light switches in this house were for the porch light and for the front living room. The rest of the house was pull string switches. I'm a wuss when it comes to being in the dark, so I would have the light on in the living room, then have to walk to the kitchen, pull string light, then back to the living room, shut off that light, then up the stairs, pull string light, then back to the kitchen, shut off pull string light, then into Niner's room, pull string light, back to the stairs, shut off pull string light, then to my room, pull string light, back to Niner's room, pull string light, then finally to my bed.
Yes I know I could've walked in the dark, or just skipped a few of those lights, but my room was dark and Niners room was messy and I had to walk through her room to get to my room and god only knows what I'd step on walking blindly through her darkened room. Plus if I couldn't find the pull string in the dark, I would get panicked and start frantically swinging my arm in the air like a blind mad woman searching for the pull string. And it seems the drunker I was the more vivid my imagination would turn my clothes strewn about my floor into, snakes, gators or goblins inching thier way closer to nip at my toes. It just wasn't good for my heart.
The bathroom
The toilet in this house was also apparently an after thought. It was built under the stairs, again fashioned with a pull string light. The coolest thing about this bathroom was the bear claw bathtub, the most uncool thing about this bathroom was its lacking of plumbing, in which case I mean, it lacked a sink. So after using said toilet, one must either wash up in the tub, or in the kitchen. Which is where the only sink in the whole house was located.
But something really cool was waking up on a nice spring day, going down to the john only to find a nice little mushroom had grown out of the base of the toilet where the actual toilet met the floor. Really was a great way to bring the outdoors in...
Additionally, since there was only a bathtub in this residence, this also became the decline of my cleanliness. It was just such a pain in the arse to bath everyday. When you wake up 15 mins before class is supposed to start, and go from classes to work to home again, by the time you walk in the door at 9 p.m. taking a bath is the last thing on your mind.... no more like 'hey where's E-Z E? (E-Z E was our beer bong) and whose place we at tonight?' was more the way our minds went. Plus we had a theory about cleanliness. "Cleanliness is next to Godliness" so for some odd reason, when we went out after getting all gussied up, no one would hit on us, but if we went out after not bathing for a week, the guys were abound....Thinking back now, it grosses me out somewhat, kinda makes me think "what kinda scent were we putting off?"
The bedrooms
The bedrooms (bedrooms being a term I use very loosely here) were connected. As I stated before, I had to walk through Niner's room to get to my room. She had the only closet, I had a makeshift rod just sorta hangin on the wall. I was able to utilize about 10 percent of the rod, as the other 90 percent was being used by someone elses clothes. Whose clothes? I have no idea, apparently the landlord's son (who used to live there but was in the army or something) I don't know I didn't ask questions. You tend to not raise much of a stink over such trivial things when your only paying $42/month for rent.) There was also a dresser that didn't belong to me filled with someone elses clothes. Really the only thing in the room that was actually mine was a fan, my clothes (which were mostly on the floor)and a crate that I set my clock on. The bed wasn't even mine. Which also thinking back kinda grosses me out, cuz who knows how many people actually used that bed. Well I guess I'm still alive, so it couldn't have been too bad.
Gas heater, toilet explosion and learning a life lessons
So the house had just one gas heater located in what I guess you would call the dining room. It was supposed to heat the whole house. Though heating an 80 year old home when the temp outside is 15 below freezing and the wind chill factor was 30 below freezing doesn't really do a whole lot. One Christmas break, Niner and I both left for about a week to go home, and the pipes busted. We came home to a black soot explosion in our bathroom. Sewage everywhere. It was disgusting and had been siting there for god knows how long. Lesson #1, don't turn the heat completely off when leaving on break, cuz yo pipes will break.
So with this heater, lets just say our heating bills were high. And since our rent was so expensive we went a few months without paying the bill. Though in climates such as ours in Northeastern Nebraska, we found out that they won't turn your gas off for not paying your bill. We were quite pleased with this. So we continued to keep our house all toasty and warm. This is where lesson #2 comes into play...Then came March, and in March in Nebraska, ol Mother Nature can sometimes surprise you with a nice warm day, or maybe even a few nice warm days, like 3 in a row...the 3 in a row being the operative phrase. Yes apparently the gas company isn't allowed to shut off your gas unless you have 3 days of temps above a certain temp. And we had apparently reached that threshold, as I came home one day to discover no more heat. And furthermore a $500 gas bill for not paying for like 3 months. Well it was March, almost April...I was moving in May....we'd be ok...hmmmm not so much.
Nebraska is quite notorious for teasing it's residents with an early spring only to be side-swiped by an April blizzard or freezing rain. We knew this and we didn't care, when the temps dropped, we just bundled up to watch TV, sipped cocoa spiked with peppermint schnapps, I signed on for a few extra overnights at my job, we made it through, we're midwestern girls, takes a lot to bring us down.
And leaving
I moved out that May, after graduation, though I didn't walk, they probably wanted me to pay my parking tickets or something, in order to walk across the stage. I was taking a stance, I thought it was BS that I had to pay $30/year to park on campus, so I just reused parking tickets I got previously, placed them on my car and went to class, this worked for a while but after some time, the campus cops got wise to my game, and started issuing me tickets again. I ended up having to pay those tickets to to get my diploma, my mother was begining to get suspicious that I didn't even graduate since I didn't have a diploma to prove that I did. And yes I realize it would've been cheaper to just buy a damn sticker, hmmm maybe I actually learned three lessons living in that house.
So that spring after classes were done I left Wayne America and the house on 114 South Lincoln. I left my cat Doogie with Niner, I left my area rug, my futon, my chair...everything that didn't fit in my Cavelier and went home. Off to join the Navy...or so I thought. Who knew then that a few months later a couple of planes would crash into some buildings and send everything into a tailspin...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
