CALL ME HOSTESS. Well, I do hope to post those long-overdue entries, but I have some great guests coming: JAD + husband today, and the day they leave, my brother is coming for a couple days! Solo! My sister-in-law, who gets to stay behind with two wriggling boys, is a saint.

How geeky is it that I think this item from Sunday's New York Times is way cool?

"On Saturday and Sunday, the New Bedford Whaling Museum in New Bedford, Mass., will play host to its eighth annual marathon reading of Herman Melville's "Moby-Dick." The event begins at noon on Saturday with a reader costumed as Ishmael standing at the stern of an 89-foot ship model. It moves to the Seamen's Bethel (called the Whaleman's Chapel in the novel) for a singing of the Navy Hymn. It continues at the museum, mostly under hanging whale skeletons, but Chapter 40, "Midnight on the Forecastle," is read in the museum's life-size replica of a crew's living quarters."

MERRY CHRISTMAS. I hope yours was as enjoyable and relaxing as ours here.

We began our merriment last night at my sister's. I used to host Christmas Eve at my house and I do miss doing that. Without a house I really don't decorate much and I rarely cook. That one night a year of hostessing was fun and made me feel somewhat useful. Anyway, we had the festivities at LKT's and I helped out a bit (I bought the seafood tray from Dixon's, for example). We started the day with a walk and a jaunt to the supermarket. It's pretty fun to shop with her.

My uncle and his family now live in East Peoria and they joined us for food and games. We laughed and laughed and an excellent time was had by all.

I have written about this before, but I sincerely love -- and like -- just about everyone in my family, even my extended family. I might not always agree with them or understand them, but I do enjoy spending time with them. So last night was a joy for all of us.

During our second walk of the day today, my brother said he hadn't laughed so much in a very long time.

Really? I asked.

Yes, he said, I haven't been doing a lot of laughing this year. But 2004 will be a lighter load for him. He's starting a new job that really is tailor-made for him, and I couldn't be happier. Neither could he.

We took two walks because we absolutely stuffed our faces last night and today, and because the sun was shining and it was not cold. (People in Nashville might disagree, but by Peoria standards, it was very temperate.)

We also took two walks because as much as I love my two nephews, both under the age of 5, it's sometimes good to get away from them. So when they're napping, you'd better make the most of the time you have. Christmas is fun with two nephews, both under the age of 5, because it's non-stop action. They love tearing off the wrapping paper and stacking the presents and playing with things right away. And they will give you a hug if their parents tell them to. That's the best part.

I forget what good minds they have, and how they hold you to what you promise. Early in the day, as we sat and read ALL his new books, my older nephew BRT made arrangements with me to walk down to his house tonight, see his new toy, watch a video and put him to bed. By 8 p.m., as his bath and bedtimes loomed and because our East Peoria cousins had returned for a second night of games, I figured we would postpone those plans to another night.

When I shared that thought, the waterworks began.

I immediately reversed my position. I felt like a heel. We did walk to his house (we ran, actually, and yes, I ran too ...) and played with his new favorite toy, T-Wrecks. "This is a great toy," he told me. "It is the most fun ever." It is a 4-year-old boy's dream: a Hot Wheels track with a little generator that shoots cars up into a 36-inch-high Tyrannosaurus Rex's mouth. Eventually, when the mouth is full, a little lever forces open his mouth, he emits a roar and all the cars shoot out. It is the most fun ever.

I like spending time with my family collectively, but it's nice to spend time individually, and that's what has been great about this trip. My mom was with me in Nashville and on the ride home; I'm staying with my sister; my nephew and I experienced the wonder that is T-Wrecks; and my brother and I had some good time together today. My dad gets to spend some quality hours with me tomorrow resolving some car issues. Lucky him.

NEW TRADITIONS. For the second year in a row, my mom has come to Nashville to see Opryland Hotel in all its glory. That's the main reason for the trip, but I'd like to think it's so we can have a little time to ourselves before the holiday onslaught. (Please see Dec. 11, 12 and 15 entries from last year ... you can do this by clicking on the "rearview mirror" link on the right hand side of the page.)

My dad brought her down on Friday night and promptly left on Saturday morning. Mom and I went and got a manicure, then had brunch at Jackson's and threw a little cash around the shops in Hillsboro Village, particularly Social Graces. I love that place and can never get out of there for less than $30, it seems. We then breezed through the library and checked out a bunch of books and films, some of which we got through during her visit.

Saturday night we had reserved for our Opryland excursion. But where to eat? We decided on Old Heidelburg, a German restaurant just a few blocks from my place. I've walked by it a thousand times but have never been in (it's mainly a lunch place and is open just a few nights a week for dinner). It's not a trendy place, but it's a place that is strangely charming. They have an incredible escargot soup. Really. I'll eat just about anything, even escargot. This soup was velvety, delicious and the vegetables in it were wonderfully crisp. The escargot were not.

We had a wonderful meal and the proprietress came out to see if we were among the theatergoers (Tennessee Performing Arts Center is right across the street). We were not, nor were we among the hockey game attendees. We were just a mom and daughter out for a last meal before plunging into the abyss that is the Opryland Hotel at Christmas. With its food and ambience, I was already a big fan, but then a little old man came through the dining room with an accordion and announced he would play any waltzes or polkas we would like to hear. He launched into "Frosty the Snowman" -- polka style -- and I vowed to support Old Heidelberg as much as possible. I'm just a sucker for an accordion. (There's another neat German place near downtown, the Gerst Haus, which is very Hofbrau-like. Old Heidelberg is more like Jumer's, but less oppressive in its decor.)

On we went to Opryland Hotel, and since I have FINALLY mastered the secrets of the Ellington Parkway, getting there wasn't as bad as we had thought. Since our reserves of patience were still high, we decided to brave Fantasy in Ice. On a Saturday night. The Saturday night before Christmas. It was semi-insane. We finally got into the display, where they issue parkas, and people kept saying, "It's cold in here!" I wanted to yell, "Yes, it's cold in here! It's Fantasy in ICE, people. More than a million pounds of ICE! What did you expect?" But I shared these thoughts only with my mom.

Fantasy in Ice was nice once, but we wouldn't do it again. We thought the skating polar bears were nice and Santa's workshop was fine, whatever. The real centerpiece of it all was a life-sized Nativity scene in ice. It was detailed and gorgeous. That was worth the price of admission. Once.

The Opryland Hotel was nice too, just to be with my mom and to mill about. I can't say anything bad about Gaylord Entertainment -- owner of the Opryland Hotel, Grand Old Opry, General Jackson Riverboat and the Ryman Auditorium -- because they saved and restored the Ryman. That covers a multitude of sins.

Sunday was church, of course, and brunch at Red Wagon. I absolutely adore Red Wagon. The food is incredible, the decor cool, the crowd hip. I have made an executive decision: JAD + husband and I are having New Year's Eve dinner there. I believe they will thank me.

After brunch we did what almost always do on Sunday afternoon: drive around and look at all the places I could live but won't. We looked at the City View Lofts in East Nashville, still very nice but glad I didn't buy; Row 8.9n in Germantown, still very nice and kind of wished I had; and a new development by the group that did Row 8.9n, just a block or two away. It's under construction and we actually walked through the units (alert the attorneys to the "attractive nuisance"!) Fine. They are fine. They actually have a city view and particularly one of the Capitol, which is very important to me. But I can't imagine going there. It's just too far away from Old Heidelberg.

PINKIES RAISED. VGG, HER and I finally made it to the Hermitage Hotel for tea. Exquisite.

For months we've been talking about it and we scheduled a "strategic planning session" for this afternoon there in the beautifully decorated lobby. They brought out porcelain tea sets for each of us, finger sandwiches and petit fours and wonderfully flavored tea.

The three of us sat and talked about strategic planning for the requisite 45 seconds, then moved on to other topics. Mostly we just enjoyed each others' company and expressed how fortunate we are to work with people who delight us. And who like formal tea.

Our strategic plan? To have a meeting like this once each quarter.

SLIDING SCALE. Our foursome went to dinner tonight to my favorite place in Nashville, Tin Angel. Come and I'll take you. On me. Your money's no good there.

I had venison and it was fabulous. We talked about a lot of great stuff. K updated us on her romance, which seems to be going swimmingly. B confessed she has posted an ad. I'm trying to persuade DMJ to do it. Told her I'd write the ad for her. I'm not jumping in yet, though. I'll take my rejection in person, thank you very much.

We compared deal-breakers, which we will probably do again at K's impending wedding reception. Pretty much we agreed the longer you're on your own, the pickier you get, which seems to defy logic, but it's true. B said she'd look past a couple less-than-desirable qualities for a guy who could fix a lot of things around the house, help put up the Christmas tree, and tell you when a mechanic is trying to pull one over on you. We all laughed at that one.

MY FAVORITE HEADLINE OF THE DAY. Former Gov. George Ryan Indicted - breaking news from the Associated Press: "Former Illinois Gov. George Ryan was charged in a federal racketeering indictment today with taking payoffs, gifts and vacations in return for government contracts and leases while he was secretary of state."

You go, federal prosecutors.

My second favorite headline of the day: "Thurmond's Illegitimate Daughter Speaks Out." A great lady. An incredible story.

I ENJOY BEING A GIRL. How much have I been talking about manicures and lip gloss and stuff? So much that my team bought me a home kit for paraffin dips. I'm not kidding - that was their Christmas gift to me. Two of the women have already invited themselves over for a manicure party.

It's pretty cool. My hands shall henceforth forever be silky soft.

VIVA NASHVEGAS. Yes, it's almost 3 a.m. Just got back from the Jack Emerson tribute show and it would have been a bargain at double the price. I got in for a mere $30.

Read 'em and weep:

(this isn't even a complete list)
Tim Krekel
Webb Wilder
Sonny Landreth
Billy Joe Shaver (with Will Kimbrough)
John Hiatt
Steve Earle
Jason and the Scorchers (went on at 1 a.m.)

I could just cry with joy. It was 1986 all over again ... they played a set of all early Scorchers and it SMOKED. Jason was wired and sweaty and full of energy. He has to perform as Farmer Jason in less than 12 hours at the Country Music Hall of Fame. Good luck with that! The crowd was with them (the hearty 40 or so souls that stayed until the end included luminaries like Tennessean writer Peter Cooper (who looks amazingly like MKR), ex-Wilco drummer Ken Coomer, former Slow Bar and current Grimey's owner Mike "Grimey" Grimes, Jack Emerson's former business partner Andy McLenon, and a couple other people who were somebody, just not to me. Yet.).

I'm somebody too, you know. I'm the most inhibited woman in North America because even when the band launched into "I Don't Want to Know," my all-time favorite Scorchers rocker, I could not dance with abandon. That's kind of sad. I was dancing inside.

I'm also the person who drank a pot of Snow Monkey Plum tea before going to the show because it is powerfully caffeinated and now, shaky and weak, I am WIDE AWAKE.

Where else could you see a line-up like that? And feel that you are surrounded by some of the greatest musical minds as you stand in the little club?

Steve Earle said Emerson always believed that Nashville is a rock 'n' roll town, and that it still is. Jack Emerson was integral in all of those acts being born and developed and successful. R.I.P., Jack, and many, many thanks.

TRUE CONFESSIONS. I really like the people I work with. They surprise me sometimes ... You know I have a secret tattoo on my forehead that says, "Tell me everything." And they are no exception - they tell me everything.

In my first meeting of the day, one guy told me he's remarrying his ex-wife. This is fabulous news. I've secretly been hoping they would reunite for some time now. Last year he was hit by a car and she was very involved in nursing him back to health. Whenever he talked about her or about things that happened during their marriage, I could tell. So, unbeknownst to most people in the office, they're doing the Vegas thing over the holidays.

Then in the next meeting I was talking with another guy about his daughter's upcoming wedding. Turns out it's been accelerated a few months due to a grandchild on the way. We sat in silence for a few moments and his eyes said it all. We talked about it for a while and agreed that we both know a few marriages that started in similar circumstances and turned out well.

Fortunately my third meeting was cancelled. I wasn't sure what would turn up in that one.

Here's my true confession: I spent $15 on an eyelash curler. Seriously. What's up with that? It works great, by the way. I also bought some fancy lip gloss that I figure costs about $1.75 each time I apply it. Makes me feel like a movie star when I wear it.

I'm going through a strange I-want-to-be-pretty phase. I went after work tonight and got a manicure, which is such a bizarre practice. I can't even believe I do it, but there I was, with the Vietnamese teenager talking on the cell phone while I chose a nail color. I always choose the plainest, most subdued color. Wonder what that says about me?

Wonder how the Vietnamese teenager - Andy Tri Nguyen, according to the posted license from the state of Tennessee - ended up in this strip mall in suburban Nashville? Wonder what he is talking about on the cell phone, then to the other manicurists? Wonder what secrets Andy would tell me if he saw the tattoo on my forehead?

CAN'T SLEEP. Just got back from the Bluebird Cafe and saw a great band backing singer Mark Germino. Two guys from work said they wanted to see something at the legendary showplace so we picked this show and what do you know, it featured some musicians I recognized (half of Webb Wilder's backing band) on stage and in the crowd (John Prine!)

Yet again, may I state, I love this town. And I love the guys from work. How cool is it that they were willing, after a very long day, to stay up late and rock a little. Never underestimate insurance people.

The opening band featured a lovely mandolin player who sported a gorgeous A-style mandolin. It's the very mandolin that I have ordered. Nope, I can't play a note, but I plan to learn. I originally had my heart set on an F-style mandolin, but when I saw and heard this A-style a few weeks ago at a local store, I revised my order.

I'm buying the mandolin through the Tone Chaperone (previously referenced in these pages). He was Mark Germino's lead guitarist tonight. They played a version of "The Tennessee Waltz" that almost had me in tears.

Tonight was the first of three power-packed music nights this week. Friday and Saturday are going to be amazing ... stay tuned. Common denominator: Tone Chaperone is playing all of them. How many songs does a professional musician have to know in order to keep a full slate of gigs? It boggles the mind.

It's been kind a of full day. We started with the monthly all-employee meeting (I had to bring Krispy Kremes in as enticement for attendees) and this month we did a surprise skit. It was a tremendous success and provoked gales of laughter. I hope people also learned a thing or two about a major project our company is undertaking. What I learned is, I write best about insurance when I'm lampooning it.

A MOMENT OF SILENCE PLEASE. Let us stop to mourn the loss of my beloved original Palm Pilot. The guy from IT just pronounced it dead (after he expressed amazement that such an old model was still in use in this building). I feel like a part of myself is gone. Fortunately I think most of it is still on my hard drive here at work.

I bought the Palm Pilot many years ago (4+) at a Best Buy in Bloomington-Normal, IL, and it has served me well. I have recorded my deepest and my most shallow thoughts. I have planned 1,000 tasks that I never completed. I have listed my dreams, my aspirations, and all the videos I will someday rent.

It has been to England and France and many states. However, it rarely went to the video store, so that video list hasn't shortened much in 4+ years.

Someday I'm sure I can learn to love a different Palm Pilot. In fact, we are going to try that theory now with a company-supplied Palm Pilot. However, I know it will never be the same.

Godspeed, my personal digital assistant.

TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE. Concerned citizens (read as: my brother and sister-in-law) recently forwarded this piece of news from the hometown paper:

"East Peoria's riverfront park is now open to the public. The project has been in the making for about 4 years now. In that time, the then empty space behind the Super Wal-Mart has now been turned into a recreational area. It's filled with paved walking and bike paths, benches and night lights. About a million dollars in local and state funds went into developing the park. And local officials say East Peorians now have a place of their own to enjoy the view of the Illinois river. There are also plans to put in restrooms, a fishing dock, and a playground. " - Peoria Journal Star, 4 Dec 2003

Well, that is wonderful, since they've been promising to do that for, oh, about a decade. I do appreciate that the park is becoming a reality. I'm afraid, though, it will only highlight what a colossal waste of land East Peoria caused when they allowed that monstrosity to be built.

In case you didn't know, I hate Wal-Mart. Won't spend a cent there, nor at any Walton-owned establishment. Do what you want. But I won't support them. (This caused an awkward moment recently when I asked a bride-to-be where she was registered. Guess I won't be buying them anything on their list.)

Jason recently sang a song about his feelings for Wal-Mart. He hates them too, but he said it much more delicately and artistically. I love that guy.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD! My dad came to visit for a few days in September and we had a wonderful time. One day we went for a walk and, since it had been just weeks since his angioplasty, I was inquiring into the whereabouts of his nitroglycerin. He was not amused. �I�ve been in this body for 62 years and I think I know it pretty well,� he said. So off we went down to the Bicentennial Mall and around James Robertson Drive, across Lower Broad and over the Shelby Street Bridge and up and down the many hills.

He�s been in that body for 63 years today and it has been many places: the Sand Hills of Nebraska, the vast emptiness that is South Dakota, the Benson neighborhood of Omaha, the South Side of Chicago (churches and otherwise), the true Comiskey Park, the sell-out-corporate-named current home of the White Sox and dozens of major league ball parks. I think he has probably been in Wrigley Field once, but if he has, he�s not telling.

His body has been to Fort Knox and Fort Dix and Fort Benning and Southeast Asia, a number of colleges until one finally gave him a diploma, the paint pit on the line, then a series of corporate offices. It has probably logged 50,000 miles on Interstate 74 in its lifetime.

It�s been in the crawl spaces and basements and attics and garages of many central Illinois houses. It has spent countless hours at the Gamble�s Hardware in Peoria Heights, a few at Haberkorn Ace Hardware, and many at Nena True Value.

It has been in the coronary intensive care unit. And the maternity ward (five times now). And the nursing home and the funeral parlor. It has been at music recitals, cross-country meets, college commencements and even up front at two weddings (one its own).

It has been at countless model railroader conventions. And it was probably one of the better looking bodies there. �Nuff said. Lots of Southern Gospel concerts too.

The body never met a Dairy Queen it did not like.

These days you will see it strolling on the same route in the neighborhood, chasing after two little grandsons, taking rests in the living room and hiding in the back of the garage to partake of major projects and televised sports.

It is older and slower and grayer but probably the happiest it has ever been.




No one who knows me will be surprised to read that I completely and totally love my Dad. He gets better with age, mellower in some ways and more inflexible in others (like whether he will carry nitroglycerin with him). I see him trying to �see things differently� (a little joke of ours) and reaching beyond his comfort zone in many ways. I�m very proud of him and also very grateful for the many things he has done for me, not the least of which was supporting my move to Nashville, where he likes to visit.

Happy birthday Dad!