Scenes from my fantasy life

Breaking news: This weekend, I watched an entire half-hour infomercial for a Time/Life collection of CDs from the '70s. I grew up with that music—my mom always had the radio on in our house—and I knew every single song they played.

I had the rare chance to zone out because I was away at an event in San Diego. Nissan debuted their fourth-generation minivan, the Quest, and through my work with Redbook I got invited to speak about work-life balance at a lunch for bloggers. (They sprung for the plane ride, my hotel room and a massage, which was nice, as another part of my fantasy life involves being a jet-setter or a lady who lunches.) I thought the Quest was impressive: I liked the wood-paneled dashboard, the rear seats you could easily pull up and down, the low-ish step for getting into the back, doors and a trunk that opened with a push of the button on the handle, a Blind Spot Warning System in which a light on the oversize side-view mirrors flashes if a car is passing (so you won't turn and hit it) and actually beeps if you veered toward it (I tried, just to see what would happen). Here 'tis:






I got to chat and laugh with a wonderful bunch of women: Ciaran from Momfluential, Lori from A Cowboy's Wife, Kim from Traveling Mom, Elizabeth from Traded My BMW for a Minivan, Jamie from Blonde Mom Blog, Romy from Romy Raves, Theresa from Rock On Mommies, Amy from BabyCenter, Caryn from Rockin Mama, Sondra from Happy Healthy Hip Parenting, Sugar from Sugar in the Raw and Courtney from My DFW Mommy.


I forget how bad the entire state of California is for my hair until I see pictures like this. Anyhoo, we got into a good discussion, we ate good food, we had our own hotel rooms (heaven). So there I was, lying in bed at 11:30 p.m. propped up by three pillows because there was no Dave to hog them, and I got sucked into the Singers & Songwriters infomercial. (Word, my friend Sheila Weller wrote a book about Carly Simon, Carole King and Joni Mitchell, Girls Like Us, it's an excellent read).

Then I had a five-hour plane ride home and the entire time, I was singing the songs. I mean, not like I was doing plane karaoke or anything, but the elderly guy next to me slept, and the engines were loud, so I could sing softly: "I'm leaving on a jet plane... Sunshine on my shoulders... Sarah smile... Bye, bye Miss American Pie... In my mind I've gone to Carolina... You're so vain... If you leave me now...." As I sat there I thought, I want to learn to play guitar. And get a gig singing in the pub in town.

Dave, Max and Sabrina were at the airport waiting for me and I was ecstatic to see them. Max was wailing, because he wanted to go somewhere on a plane and meanie parents that we are, we wouldn't let him. At home I bathed the kids, picked up the entire house because nobody else has that talent, caught up on mail and chores and generally got back to reality, where there isn't spare time to take guitar lessons or, for that matter, watch infomercials, although there is plenty of opportunity to drive a minivan.

But, man, I'd really like to learn how to play guitar. And sing in the pub in town.

OK, if you had the time, what would you learn how to do?

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