Yesterday this beautiful Sun Conure and I became fast friends at the pet store, and I am really fighting the urge to bring him home to Philly and Brutie. Since our visit I've done some research and Sun Conure's only live about 30 years - not the 80+ years with the need to write other parrots in your will like the pet store dude claimed. I can handle 30 years! They can also learn pretty awesome tricks, like playing dead, going night-night, and barking like a dog. OK, that last link isn't a clip of a Sun Conure, but it makes me smile. My wee birdie is the cutiest, cuddliest thing, I can't believe I'm a bird person. He actually rolled over on his back so that I could rub his belly, and was cocking his head at me when I called him pretty and whistled quietly in his ear. He was grabbing at my finger and engagement ring so gently too, I couldn't believe how sweet and affectionate a bird could be. But the responsibility of owning a bird has set in. The whole covering them at night, cleaning a bird cage, and needing to set time aside to play with Brutie, a Birdie, AND my husband every day is too much stress.

I think I'll name him Sunny and visit him at the pet store often.

I have a very musical family. My Dad played the acordian (This was the only instrument he was allowed to play being Italian 'n all.) and my Mom played the piano. My Mom actually wanted to study music in college before deciding to major in romance languages.  But music was sortof forced on her growing up. She was only allowed to study classical pieces, and enjoying rock bands like the Beatles was not allowed. Her father, my Grandpa, was a real musician. And being very traditional, he didn't understand the musiciality of these new genres of music back then. He made his first guitar as a boy in Puerto Rico, and taught himself to play by ear. Adding the ability to read music didn't become part of his natural talent until he was an adult. My Grandpa, Felipe (Neri) Orta, is known in Puerto Rico as a living master of the cuatro, and has had the privledge of playing with other cuatro giants. I've heard my grandpa play countless times, but have only heard him play as part of a band once or twice so my latest findings on the internet of my Grandpa has me totally struck by his passion for music.

Noting his importance in the history of the cuatro is Kacho Montalvo on the Cuatro Project, "I must differ each time I hear that the Institute of Puerto Rican Culture or [IPR historian] Paquito Lopez Cruz rescued the cuatro from oblivion. I believe the cuatro was rescued by the musicians and the troubadours that went on radio and struggled against a commercial system that would not play their music, to appear on early Sunday morning programs. Those programs saved the cuatro, and in New York Efrain Ronda, Tito Báez, Tuto Feliciano, Juan Gonzalez, Nieves Quintero, Yomo Toro, Pepe Rodíguez, Ladí, Neri Orta, they planted the seed. Plus several cuatro makers that kept making the cuatro in New York, are the responsible ones. Without craftsmen, arrangers, troubadors and composers, you can't have players."

Shown in these videos, you can easily spot him since he's the only one with a full head of white hair. I can't even begin to express how thankful I am to have moments like these documented.

 

 

 

The ride in to Lexington from my house is long, and the new road construction projects near the Kentucky Horse Park make it longer. There are cops everywhere ready to give tickets that will carry a double fine for speeding in work zone. I should've stopped for coffee, I thought to myself. This ride has the potential of turning me into a zombie. The last thing I heard before pulling into a Speedway gas station near work was a terrestial radio DJ talking about the things that make him white trash. Examples from this conversation included enjoying independent wrestling events, eating pickled eggs or wild onions from the backyard, and picking the Waffle House as their first restaurant of choice. God, I STILL have a hard time relating to southerners, I thought to myself. Have morning radio talk shows really gotten this bad? Tomorrow my car will finally be equipt with Sirius radio so that I can listen to Howard. I've been a subscriber to Sirius ever since his announcement that he was moving to satellite radio, and had a car kit up until we moved to Kentucky.

There's something about coffee from a gas station that get's my heart pumpin' unlike any other coffee - including top shelf coffees like Starbucks. After a dreary ride like this, I needed to snap myself out of it. So I make my favorite gas station coffee concoction (20 oz cup with about 10 tablespoons of french vanilla creamer and super strong java) "Oh my gosh, are you paying for my coffee?!", I whispered to the older man in line before me. I thought I heard him say this to the cashier, but couldn't be sure. I don't think I came across as dumbfounded as I felt. "Thank you so much. Have a nice day." And I left.

As I left I thought I should've listened to Oprah and paid for someone else's cup of coffee. The fact that I didn't will bother me until I do. When I pulled away from the gas station the man waved to me from his truck, I waved in excitment back, and wondered if he pays it forward all the time.

That's what I've been calling Big Brute, "Hey there, Mr. January!" Phil and I went to an event on Saturday night in support of the Scott County Humane Society. We never really need an excuse to hang with our neighbors (we really did luck out - our neighbors rock!), but proceeds went to an excellent cause with dinner and dancing. The highlight was their silent auction where guests bid on Starbucks coffee, doggie dishes, handmade purses, and your pet's photograph in their 2009 calendar! Brutus and his neighborhood pals (a.k.a. the three amigos), Annabelle the Pomeranian and Winston the Labradoodle, will be photographed by a professional  and their photo will be used for January!  To prepare for their sitting, Brutus and Winston played on Sunday morning to sniff eachother out. Poor Winston is still a baby, and looked like he wanted to crap his pants when Brutus played at full force, but they quickly decided to become best friends after a half hour of supervised playtime. Now we have to bring little 3 pound Annabelle into the mix. The three of them together will certainly make for a fun foto!