You Drive the Wagon, I'll Ride Shotgun

With the non-stop coverage of the Olympics on television, and the water cooler talk everywhere focused on Michael Phelps Mania, it is hard not to at least be sensitive to, or tuned into, the madness and excitement that is the Olympics in Beijing.

Two weeks ago 90% of the American population probably couldn't name two swimmers, and now the whole country is signing up for swim team and hankering to own a Speedo. My red, bleary eyes are a dead giveaway that I've been staying up way too late to catch the action.

A moment of reflection is due, however, for all of the other bandwagons I've willingly climbed up on, and the few I've deftly managed to avoid.

Bandwagons I've Joined:

College Football - This is not one I'm ashamed of. Despite not having grown up a Dawgs fan (my parents weren't southern, and I only got turned onto it in high school), when you take one look at an SEC tailgate, with the Dawgs gear out in full glory, you fall instantly in love. I'm not apologizing for this one, and keep my Official Bandwagon Member Certification in my top drawer. Go Dawgs!

iPods - Embarrassingly, I still tote around the first generation iPod. It's vintage! And, it is by today's standards, enormous and weighs about 10 lbs. The battery won't hold a charge but it plays great if it is plugged into a dock or my car's adapter. And, what kind of commuter would I be without those clever little white earbud headphones?

The Cubs - I live 4 blocks from Wrigley Field and therefore it would be illegal not to like them, and all kidding aside, those Kosher hot dogs are just too damn delicious.

The Bears - Who doesn't like sitting outside in the wet snowy icy rain when it is 14 degrees outside? And talking smack about our own (lame) quarterback?

The Bulls - I tried. the games are pretty boring these days, and the United Center is just too hard to get home from. Raise your hand if you couldn't give a damn about a league of thugs who make too much money and act like idiots off the court? However, buy me a few $8 beers and spring for the ticket, and I'm in.

Gyms - Egad. I tried it for a few years here and realized that just paying the $60 monthly fee doesn't make you lose weight. If only. I'm pretty sure that my checkbook was the only thing getting any skinner during those long and torturous years of bandwagon-ness.

Sororities - I did it. So sue me. I also wore pearls and jean jackets, date party t-shirts and frat party sweatshirts. Forgive me for my sins, but it sure was one helluva way to meet people at a huge school. Sorority Rush was one giant sanctioned bandwagon, wasn't it?

Halloween - Despite looking hideous most years, I have dutifully concocted a silly costume and tromped all over town like an oversized (and overserved) child. It was much more fun than that a the time, but maybe that was the vodka talking?

Vintage Posters - You know the ones. Yes you do. Turn around in your living room and you'll likely see it, touting a wine or a European destination. They quickly became the rage in about 2000, and I have a huge one in my dining room. I love it, but it isn't that clever when everyone else has one, too.

Hair - Where do I begin? I permed it in elementary school (Lord help me). I teased and sprayed my bangs in middle school. I hot-rolled my hair every morning before high school, and wore it long because that's what the popular girls did. I got to college and in a pseudo-rebellious move, I cut it all off (oooh wasn't I brave?). Then, when I accidentally ended up with a mullet, I started growing it back out. then I moved to Chicago and realized I could use a shorter 'do to seem older in business meetings. Cut it to my chin. Then realized (and was told a former not-so-tactful colleague as much) that I looked better with it long. It's been long since. Should the trend swing back short, I sure hope I miss out. Because I'm clearly not ready (or in the station of life) for the Mom Haircut just yet.

Leather Pants - I think it is still too soon to discuss this one. I'm pretty emotionally scarred by the memories (and the photographic evidence), but at least I never had a Ross Gellar experience while wearing (or removing) them.

Politics - Not as much of a bandwagon-fan there, but inspired by what this election offers. Change is good, and needed, so I'm game. If the wagon makes young people vote, I'll drive.

Blackberry - I confess. Mine is not a Blackberry, but a Blackjack. Yet I'm addicted just the same.

Thongs - Yes. Underwear. I said it. And, I'm admitting it. I turned from a thong-hater, to a swears-by-it thong wearer. Too much information? I know. But, if you give the Hanky Panky brand a try, and can get a second mortgage to cover it, buy some. You'll thank me.

Oversized Shades - I feel a bit like Paris or Nicole, but in my huge sunglasses, I look cool.

Going Green - I recycle. Isn't that enough? No. I know. But I'm working on it. I have just been asked to participate in an interactive marketing program for the household brand method, so I'm gonna up my participation in the green movement. How globally conscious of me.

Facebook - Not afraid to announce that I love it. I'm not a creepy stalker, or a pedophile, or a mom with four gorgeous kids on display. Just your average user who likes to see how people are, who got married to whom, and where everyone lives. Ok, and stalk the occasional ex. Isn't that part of it?

Mac Revolution - Maybe "revolution" gives it too much credit, but I do love my Mac. And, I swear I'll never own a PC again. And the store? So fun and gadgety.

Harry Potter - While I wasn't the fan that was in the Border's Bookstore at midnight, I did read the first three or four, and actually was quite surprised at how much fun they were to read. Until I got publicly ridiculed by a mother to her six-year old on the bus one day for "reading a kid's book." I lost interest shortly thereafter. Coincidence?

Jewelry - Slap bracelets, jelly bracelets, chandelier earrings, chunky plastic necklaces, fake diamond studs, Swatch watches, braided ribbon barrettes, grosgrain ribbons in our hair, scarves in the summer, stone jewelry, turquoise jewelry, etc. I could keep going. I know that most of these are trends in fashion (brief, painful and fleeting) but they seem like a bandwagon at the time. I couldn't swing a cat outside on Michigan Avenue right now without knocking over at least a dozen sporting the latest jewelry or fashion bandwagons.

Weddings & Babies - I fully admit this isn't a bandwagon, but given the number of bridal showers, bachelorette parties, weddings, engagement parties and baby showers I've been to, and the sheer volume of announcements and invitations littering my stainless steel fridge, I'd have to say that something's in the water. I'm going thirsty for now.

Stainless Steel Appliances - Didn't occur to me until I wrote the above, but its true. I'm a convert and cringe a little when I think of the pre-renovation brown fridge and pink stove. Shudder.

Chicago - You'd think I was the president of the tourism office here, I love this place so much. I think that is a healthy addiction, no? I am pretty sure the city loves me back. Besides those few parking tickets...

Blogging - This one is clear. But you're here, aren't you? And still having fun? I'm good enough, smart enough and funny enough? And, gosh darnit, people like me? (Maybe add a comment here just to confirm my suspicions that someone other than my mom, sister and Jenny are reading me daily).


Bandwagons I've Avoided:

Footwear - Those Greek lace-up sandals look painful, cowboy boots and skirts just look ridiculous. Oh, and if you live in L.A.? UGGs aren't for you. Personally, I always thought they were hideous (and sortof still do), but then I tried on my friend Brenna's and dear God in heaven I have to own some. At least the weather here warrants the ugliness.

Jeans - Let's call a spade a spade. Those high-waisted things are atrocious - don't those girls own a mirror? I don't need anything accentuating my girl-pooch, or drawing attention to my crotch.

Alternative Medicine - Short of a pleasant massage, I've never been treated in anything resembling Eastern Medicine. I've not tried cupping (too vain), herbal supplements (too cheap), chiropractic care (too skeptical), acupuncture (too afraid) or those God-awful fish that eat the dead human flesh on your feet (too disgusted).

Tattoos - We've already covered how this is not my thing. I'm just ever so glad that I was strong enough not to cave in high school.

Belly button piercings - Short of almost getting dragged into it in Amsterdam (I blame Mandi and the 12 beers), I didn't succumb to the pressure. My stomach is so glad - I'd probably have to dig it out and have it surgically removed from the gentle rolls I'm gathering down there now, and that's not sexy one bit.

Hybrids - Mostly because I'm fond of my Jeep Liberty, and far too lazy to sell the thing. It's possible that I'll convert after this one is paid off, or when gas prices go to $10 a gallon. At that point I'll have no choice. (I do have a bike in case you're wondering, but I'm far too wimpy to bike to work).

What other bandwagons have you jumped aboard, or deftly avoided? That's all I can think of.

Maybe I'm a joiner, not a rebel?

I know, I know. Hide your surprise.

So Tacky

Now that the weather is warming up, and the wool coats have been (optimistically?) put away for the season, women everywhere are sporting their new spring coats. Trenches, lightweight jackets, and coats in all sorts of lovely spring colors are the new "black wool" replacement.

I have a pet peeve related to this wardrobe item. I know, I know. Who has a pet peeve about spring coats?

The peeve is actually about ALL coats, but seems like a good thing to mention now. I consider this post a favor to all females, a "do good" moment for me towards all humanity.

UNTACK the back flap. Seriously, ladies. The manufacturer puts weak string in a little X down at the bottom of the back flap to protect the flap from tearing while it is shipped, unwrapped and sold to unsuspecting women. The threads are supposed to be cut before wearing the coat. It's called a kick pleat for a reason. You should be able to kick backwards through it! (See it up there on the right? NOT tacked together. Separate.)

I can't tell you how many women are running around Chicago (and likely all across this great country) wearing the back flap still tacked down. It looks silly, MUST make it harder to walk, and doesn't show off the cute little details that make these women's coats so fashionable.

Do me (and all of your fellow ladies) a favor. Because, let's face it, men don't even notice you're WEARING a coat, much less get the minutae involved. Just UNTACK the flap before wearing it.

I have other things to be peeved about, and trust me, I'll share them with you. Until then, just consider yourself warned. I'm half tempted to go up to women I see on the street and rip the offending flaps apart.

Now THAT wouldn't win me any friends in public.

A Standing Ovation

I must admit I was one of the guilty ones yesterday. You know the ones...the people in Chicago that see the forecast for warmer temps, and push the season a bit with their wardrobe selections.

Given that we've been in a deep freeze for months now, the prospect of the temperature hitting the upper forties made me very happy. So did the unending sunshine that accompanied it. Therefore, it seemed perfectly natural to shed the socks/boots and put my bare feet into pumps for the first time all season. I did it.

Walked at lunchtime for quite a few blocks, and noticed the rubbing on the insides of my feet. These are not new shoes, mind you, but my poor winterized feet just weren't ready. By the time I left the office to head home, they were practically raw.

My aching feet and I got onto the bus, and it was already full. I stood near the back, on those pained and blistered feet, and plotted, planned and prayed for a logical new CTA bus/El amendment:

I propose: a single row of seats behind the existing priority seating for those poor souls that have made poor footwear choices that day.

Those with feet that are swollen, pinched, blistered or raw. Those sporting stilletos, new shoes, pointy fashions or just cheap imitations of comfortable. The chair, instead of having the universal handicap sign of the wheelchair on the upholstered back, could just have a footprint on it. Very graphic, simple, and universally translated to mean 'feet.' This row could feature ladies or gentlemen who just need to sit. Who can't imagine the ride home teetering, balancing or otherwise contorting any longer in their footwear mistake.

Now that's a CTA proposal I could really stand behind.

Out of the Closet

I just saw on one of the entertainment websites that Katie Holmes has a 1,500 square-foot walk-in closet in the $30 million house to which they're making $15 million in renovations.

I'm going to need a little time to get over the jealousy that is searing through my bones. That closet is larger than my entire apartment, by the way.

But, alas, I don't have to live with, and pretend to love, Creepy Tom Cruise. The baby is cute, though.

Wonder how big HER closet is?

Almost Famous

I walked right through the set of a motion picture this morning.

No, I didn't miss my flight back from LA. And, yes, I was fully awake.

In fact, I was dressed and on my way to work. Sure throws off that "she was just having a dream" theory. I had just crossed the bridge over the Chicago River, and then I see the ginormous movie camera on a huge black pivoting thingy. My cousin "in the biz" says that's called a crane camera. Ok then.

I see the crane camera, and then spot the sign below that says something about a motion picture being filmed, and that they're not held responsible if you are caught on camera doing something stupid like picking your nose. Or wearing ugly shoes. They're not liable.

As you may expect, I love movies, television and am especially fond of anything that involves showing Chicago off to the world. Only if it makes our fair city look good. Which, incidentally, half the time it does not. It was NEVER summer on "ER" and "Save the Last Dance" makes this city appear totally and completely dank, dark, scary and gang-infested. Which a lot of it is not.

I digress.

So, back to the set. I was quite pleased that they didn't stop me from walking through, but rather allowed me to enter the set, and cross through the "action" even after the director shouted just that.

Quiet on the set! We have a REAL LIVE CHICAGO COMMUTER COMING THROUGH. Oooh. I add authenticity.

Anyway, I didn't recognize the actors, but did notice that one guy had fake tears running down his face. Or was that the cold wind? The female actor was watching me walk, and in my head, she was thinking "that's just what I would be wearing if I worked at a cool Michigan Avenue ad agency." Yeah, probably not. She was probably eyeing the craft services table and was musing on her next latte purchase from Starbucks. But a girl can imagine, can't she?

I was secretly thrilled to be wearing my sunglasses (for that added vibe), and was really glad I'd put in the extra 10 minutes to straighten my hair. And put on lipstick.

Because you just can't risk looking dowdy, homely or otherwise unhip when your 10-seconds of fame hits the editing room floor.

In the Land of Smurfs

I bought new jeans right before the holidays, and have worn them a few times, and washed them twice. They are a really dark wash, and slim enough to tuck into high-heeled knee-high black boots.

But, damn them, they turn me blue.

If I am inclined to put my hands in my lap, rest my hands on my knees, or otherwise come into contact with these denim monsters, the result isn't pretty.

By the end of the day, my hands are a pale shade of blue. It even comes off on the hand towels in the bathroom.

By the time I left the Bulls game last night, I was downright tinted.

I looked like a giant Smurfette.

But, they sure looked good with the boots.