Feet, don’t fail me on Friday… and while you’re at it, keep my knees in line and my hips on the up-and-up. Oh, and the toes, watch out for the toes.
On Friday, May 16, I will be revisiting the site of one of the most triumphal and awful experiences of my life: The Grand Canyon, one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World, and the place that resulted in my having to have both of my big toenails pulled out with surgical pliers (while I was awake and aware of what was going on).
The trip was to have celebrated the 10th anniversary of our initial crossing, but since I have done my best to wipe the memory of the Dreaded Toenail Incident from my brain, I miscalculated, and my intrepid partner Kellee and I are in fact doing the big traverse on the eight-and-a-halfth anniversary of the big event.
If you are a single male, you missed a rare opportunity to find some hearty, woman-stock of child-bearing age at Tempe Town Lake on May 5.
More than 500 women gathered for the inaugural Esprit de She triathlon and duathlon. Depending on the race they entered, the ladies tallied up to 16 miles’ worth of swimming, biking and running … or running, biking and running … or if you’re me, swimming, biking, running and pissing people off.
Suffice it to say, these women have stamina – and after wearing themselves out (or working themselves into a lather) – they might have lowered their standards and perhaps would have been more amenable to your romantic entreaties. Or not.
Although I wasn’t amenable to (or eligible for) those romantic entreaties, I did survive the inaugural Esprit de She Triathlon in 1 hour, 55 minutes, 23 seconds with my dignity intact (more or less) along with my gangrenous toe. It was not a personal best, not by a long shot.
Two shakers of Tony Chachere’s Original Creole Seasoning (both open).
Three boxes of assorted teas. One dozen plastic go-cups from various Mardi Gras parades. An unopened jar of cayenne pepper. Half a container of Morton’s Sea Salt – Extra Coarse. A half a jar of creamy Jif peanut butter. A half-jar of Thrill Your Grill Pork Rub. An unopened bottle of Mrs. Dash Grilling Blends – Chicken (No MSG). Three sets of stainless steel barbecue skewers. A bottle of black pepper. A brand-new container of Weber brand New Orleans Cajun spice mix.
One bottle of Uncle Steve’s Pure Ribbon Cane Syrup “rich in nature’s flavors” and three-quarters’ full – this, in a box on the floor of the closet, right next to the hamper full of wet towels.
All I gotta say is: WOW. Adjectives, exaltations, exhortations, interjections and run-of-the-mill adverbs all fail to do justice to the show we saw last night: Muse at US Airways Center in Phoenix.
Here’s what I knew about Muse going into the show:
1) We had free tickets in the skybox seats directly across from the stage… with a full bar and semi-private restrooms, plus nice comfy armchairs and a fully catered meal.
2) Um, I think some of their songs are used in those commercials… and didn’t they have that song in that Tom Cruise movie? And aren’t they the theme song for the NCAA basketball tournament. Something madness? I was only passingly familiar with them since I spend the majority of my radio time with NPR (and it’s a news / jazz channel)
3) Muse is one of my nephew’s favorite bands, and in our efforts to reach out to the young people and try new things, I figured I should be adventurous and broaden my horizons.
For those keeping score at home: Muse 4,827 – Horizons, shattered.
Best concert I’ve ever seen – but more than seen: Experienced. They had lasers, people. Lasers.