My weekend in pictures! (with captions...)

In an effort to forget about my unemployment blues, I thought I'd create a multi-media post about my weekend. Let's see how this works ...

First, click play on the video. You don't need to watch it, just click it.

Okay ... now scroll ...

Opening band: Grace and the Nocturnals - actually pretty kick ass...

Ooooooooo!!! LIGHTS!!! Quick, where's my pacifier and necklace??

On their last song, all members of the Nocturnals were wailing on the drums.

Why? I don't know, but it was kind of rad.

Eat your heart out, "real" L Word...

Hi. I need a haircut.

I. LOVE. HER. (and her band...)

So much love ... I even forgive the skinny jeans ...

a Johnny Cash pose, for some Johnny Cash covers ... mmmmmm ...

What? You can't see Brandi Carlile? NEITHER COULD WE. 

These two did a LOT of standing. I did a lot of fuming....

Rock n' Roll cello #1 of the night...

Okay ... so she tells us that she and the band are going to unplug, and sing this song acoustically ... in the Nokia Theater; a 20,000 seat venue. And you know what? It was a beautiful, fun, and awesome moment. Especially since the audience was miraculously douche-bag free ... (minus the go-go dancers in front of us...)

Seriously, this place is HUGE.

and seriously ... she belted that song out like a champ. Diaphragm and all!! (hush)

Lara's got a crush on her drummer (far left) ... can you blame her?

Wailing on a guitar ... and every lesbian's heart ...

See that red bandanna in her back pocket?? Any woman who can honor Johnny Cash 

AND Bruce Springsteen in an hour is aces in my book!

...and now... THE AVETT BROTHERS! I have dubbed them Alt-Appalachian.

...and Rock n' Roll cello #2!

This is about how far from the stage we were ... 

They were working pretty frakkin' hard ... note the loss of jackets and the loosening of ties. 

I imagine, that had we been closer, we would have been unintentionally rained on....

I kind of love their bass player... nerdy chic!

Yeah ... they play multiple instruments ...

I kind of want to learn how to play the banjo...

Did I mention they play multiple instruments??

am I the only one who thinks they look like they could be the long-lost brothers of Wyatt Earp?

DAY 2

The Costa Mesa Dog Park

"Oh boy! Throw the ball, mom! Throw the ball!"

"Hey you guys, BRING BACK THE BALL!"

"Oh mom, I sure do love the dog park!"

"I love it so much, I wanted to take some of it home with me..."

Mud...

More mud...

"Does it help if I give you the cute eyes??"

"How about the happy face????"

"He's such a doof."

...Yeah, he totally plopped down in a big old mud puddle, and became the object of giddy schadenfreude from the other puppy moms (*&#^$%@). Which resulted in my running home, washing him as fast as I could, and then going to go see Godspell at the university. 

The mud wasn't so bad, in comparison.

MISCELLANEOUS

My purse/bag/thing!

The dogs have had this stuffed animal for over a month, and the only thing they've been able to rip is his tail. Not bad, eh? 

And in case you're hankering for some more music...

"Always remember there was nothing worth sharing, like the love that let us share our name..." 

Brilliant.

This is the song she sang unplugged, which they also show in the video. 

Seriously rad.

They did this cover at the concert ... it was pretty far out.

Grace Slick would have been happy, I think. 

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So there are dog parks, and then there are DOG PARKS ...

I know I've written about our adventures at the dog park before ... but believe me when I say that not all dog parks are created equally.

So my little Garden Grove dog park is great. I mean, besides the fact that I seem to get hurt every time I go there ... It's a great place to take the dogs for an hour, play some ball, and then go home. It's not very big, and at most, I've only seen 7-8 dogs in the big dog park at a time - but it's easy, clean, and convenient. Sure, there are giant holes void of dirt where dogs have had a digging party, and where I consequently twisted my ankle the afternoon before show - but still. As a tax payer, I'm glad it's there. We don't have much in Garden Grove, but doggoneit, we have a dog park!

[it's called the Barking Lot!]

[long-story short: I stupidly attempted to stop a pack of 6 huge dogs from chasing a tiny, white yippy thing last week. I lost. Oh Barking Lot, why must you hurt me so?]

But today ... today I decided we needed a change. Hagrid and Hermione, while completely kind, happy, sociable dogs, are not ... playful. I don't know if it's because they never learned how to play (you have to remember, they have 5 and 3 years of history that I don't know anything about), or that they just like each other better than any other dog that's come along. But they do not "play" with other dogs ... that wrestling, running, jumping, pouncing thing that normal dogs usually partake in with each other - yeah. No. 

The irony of this, is that when they simply *see* another dog in a vicinity they could potentially get to, they will LUNGE with the power of Thor to get to this new dog - one morning on a walk, they almost knocked my step mother over with their crazed enthusiasm. They pull, struggle, and barge their way over to the other dog ... and then, just when you think they're going to pounce, they stop, smell the strange dog's nether regions for about 10 seconds ... and THEN - 

They're done. That's it. Like nothing ever happened. 

At the dog park, when they're off leash, this usually results in the two of them (and any other dog that might be in pen) running along the fence, following any new dog and owner as they approach the entrance. They run and bark and wag their tail, completely enamored. The other dog comes in - they smell - and then they trot away. WHAT?? And I'd like them to play with other dogs - don't get me wrong - I'm grateful for who they are. I'm grateful that they don't maul other dogs, or get too rough. I'm REALLY grateful that they're generally so charming, and that people think they're sweet. But still. When one takes their canine forever friend to the dog park, one anticipates their furry pal to frolic and play with others of their species. 

So today I thought, "Maybe they just don't care for the dogs at the Garden Grove park. Maybe it's like kids at school; they just don't gel with these dogs! Yeah, they just need new friends! I'll try a new park!"

And so I researched. Yes, that's right - I researched dog parks. Don't laugh - there are 10 (ten!!) in Orange County. On a Friday afternoon at 5:00 p.m. - well, half of them were immediately tossed out for being too far away. I narrowed it down to the two others I could get to easily, using surface streets: The Huntington Beach Dog Park, and the Arbor Dog Park in Seal Beach. I had heard some iffy things about the folks at the HB Park (and apparently, it's laden with wood chips, rather than grass), and so to Seal Beach we went. 

Let me put it this way: The Arbor Park compared with the GG Park, is like comparing Disneyland to a Kindergarten play ground. It was doggie wonderland! 2 acres of grass with shady trees, and the dogs! Oh the dogs, dogs, dogs, DOGS! There must have been close to 50 running around, of all shapes, sizes, and breeds. Big dogs, little dogs playing together in intense grassland bliss! Most of the mommies and daddies were over the age of 35 - which I have to say, was a welcome relief. I find some of the younger owners to just be ... elitist and cliquey. Let me give you an example of the kind of conversation I overheard. 

Doggy Dad 1: "I don't know about you, but I was the number one man of the house before we got our guy."

Doggy Dad 2: [good natured chuckles] "I hear that. Our guy's just taken over the whole house."

Doggy Dad 1: "Does your wife prefer his company to yours, too?"

I stopped listening at that point, for obvious reasons. 

Then, one of the little dog mommies was admiring Hermione, and said,

"She's so sweet!"

"Yeah ... she sure can be."

"What's her name?"

"Hermione."

"Oh ... what's that mean?"

"Well, it's a British* name ... and is also a character in the Harry Potter series."

"Ahh. I think I'm one of two people who's never read Harry Potter."

* I realize Hermione is actually Greek in origin, but since the British seem to be so fond of it, that was the easy explanation.

Anyway, It was a splendid time. Hermione did play with some of the little dogs for a while, which was so nice - she misses those little pups. Hagrid trotted around the circumference of the park at least three times. Smelled other dogs, chased as many tennis balls as he possibly could. There were a few people who brought camping chairs (there weren't too many benches at the park), many owners brought huge tote bags with them, like most people would with human babies or toddlers. But instead of toys, diapers and bottles, the bags held poop bags, water bowls, and tennis balls. Yet another example of how owning a dog is like having a child. 

Or in my case, children. 

But here's what I'll say about the Garden Grove dog park. It's paid for by the city ... and therefore, our taxes. Apparently, the Seal Beach park requires that non-residents of the city pay for a $12 non-resident dog registry for usage of the park - which I didn't know until after our outing. The Huntington Beach and Costa Mesa parks ask for donations, as the parks are operated by private citizens. 

My park might be small, and I might have a statistically high chance of injury when I go - but it's free. And in my little life, that counts for a lot. Clearly.

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Welcome to the Dog Park...or...Once again, I'm not a cool human.

So apparently, there's a completely foreign and unique culture at Dog Parks. When Lady was alive, we didn't bother going to the dog park very often. She was so incredibly submissive; she'd walk in, sniff a butt or two, and look back at me with bored eyes as if to say, "Uhm. Okay. I'm ready to go home now." It was the same at the Dog Beach. She just didn't care.

My other favorite childhood dog, Shadow, was way too smart to be lured anywhere than wherever it was that she wanted to be. That's a convoluted sentence, but suffice it to say, she was her own dog. We let her roam free most of them time - she *desperately* hated getting into cars, so we were never afraid of her getting abducted, and she was too loyal to run away. Any time we tried to lock her up, she'd find a way out of wherever it was. Shadow at a Dog Park would have been like putting James Bond in an undersea box with 25 locks. She'd just be out in 30 seconds.

Skipper - the mad scientist dog - would have gotten us kicked out of the dog park. Skipper was too smart for his own good - the crazy genius - he probably would have taken out some other dog's eye, just to see how it worked. He was, unfortunately, the Ted Kaczynski of dogs.

Taking an unwilling dog to a dog park park is like a parent taking a nerdy kid to football practice - only the parent gets any satisfaction. And the kid just grows up hating sports, and resenting aforementioned parent for "making" them participate. Ah childhood! Keeping therapists in business since 1875.

Anyway. I've had a lot of dogs, but I haven't had a lot of "dog park" exposure. I tried taking the pups on July 4th, but there were no other dogs. So I attempted to play fetch with them, while they succeeded in ignoring me and smelling every single square inch of the lawn - three times.

So we tried again today. Success! We hit the puppy jackpot! Eight other dogs to play with, as well as 4 smaller dogs in the lawn across the way to look and bark at! Bliss!  

There were only three dogs there at first - a purebred Husky named Yuki, a hound-mutt dog named Milo, and a dog that could have been Hermione's twin named Layla. Yuki, Milo, and Layla's owners were there, sitting on a bench together - one human per dog. I asked if it was okay if we could join them, and they said sure. I let Hagrid and Hermione off the leash - mass amounts of sniffing ensued. I asked the humans about their dogs, and received very basic answers. It was pretty clear from the get go that all three humans knew each other. Okay, fair enough. Three friends bring their dog to the dog park every Thursday at 5:00 p.m. Seems normal and fun and charming. I'm the outsider, I should shut up and let them enjoy their afternoon. The only question I get asked is:

"Is he a purebred?" This is in reference to Hagrid.
"Uhm, you know, we got him from the Golden Retriever Rescue of Southern California - they say that he's a purebred. I wonder if he has some shepherd or something, somewhere down the line. He has some atypical Golden markings, and his hair is a bit shorter than most Goldens."
"Oh."

The talking amongst themselves ensues.

.....uhm.....okay.

And so I play with the dogs, throwing the tennis balls I brought with me. The Husky, Yuki, was a sweetheart - she was a tawny brown and white with crystal blue eyes. She liked me a lot. She did not like Hagrid. She made it clear that she was the Alpha, and no ass-sniffing from anyone was allowed, least of all him. Hagrid carefully slunk away to smell the other dogs. Milo, the hound-mutt, was a humper. In fact, I think that was the first thing he did upon meeting Hagrid, before I even clicked Hagrid's leash off. And Hagrid looked up at me, trapped, eyes pleading, "Uhm, Mom? Who is this freak?! HELP ME!!!"

Milo's owner was trying to be helpful, but proved mostly ineffectual. Her soft cries of, "Milo, stop," clearly inspired nothing but more humping on Milo's part. It continued for at least the next 35 minutes, off and on. Milo made Hagrid his bitch on multiple occasions. Hagrid was trying really hard to be patient, but he'd reach a breaking point and challenge Milo by jumping in the air, and trying to out-maneuver him, but this only excited Milo more. Poor Hagrid.

Milo only tried to hump Hermione two or three times, and each time, Hermione bitch-slapped Milo like Shiva.

Layla, the other yellow lab, seemed nice enough. She liked to chase the balls I was throwing, but much like my dogs, often had sudden, furious bouts of ADD, and wouldn't return the second half of the "fetch" deal. Which resulted in me throwing and walking, walking and throwing. Ah well. It gave me a task, and a reason not to be the awkward "new human" at the Park, trying to wheedle my way into a conversation I'm not remotely interested in.

Dogs are not the only ones with social hierarchy at the Dog Park.

Not long after I arrived, two brown boxers arrived with their humans in tow. Their humans, I think, were married. They clearly showed up every Thursday at around 5:00 p.m. too, because they greeted the bench club warmly and familiarly. The wife smiled warmly at me. Her mate said nothing. Upon seeing Milo humping Hagrid, the husband said, "Yeah, Milo! Get to it!" Then, upon realizing that Hagrid was a boy said, "Oh. Never mind, Milo. At least pick a dog of the opposite sex!" This resulted in lots of chortling from him. I secretly wanted Milo to go hump his leg.

Not less than 5 minutes later, an English Bulldog with a poorly cropped tail named Roxy showed up, with her human - a tall dude who looked like he just got off of work. Roxy was pretty cute, but apparently had some entitlement issues when it came to tennis balls. Her human kept saying, "Roxy, share." She wasn't supposed to be sharing with the other dogs, she was supposed to be sharing with me ... since I was only entertaining myself by throwing and walking, walking and throwing. I train easily, no?

Now, here's where the Dog Park gets interesting. Once Roxy and her Dude show up, her Dude goes and talks to the Dad of the Boxers, and they form their own pack in the middle of the yard, arms folded, head shaking and muttering. About what? I couldn't say. I was too busy fetching my own tennis balls. The women, on the other hand, congregated around the bench, talking familiarly about things I wasn't privy to.

Next to arrive at the Dog Park were two tiny white dogs - a Boxer puppy, and white something that should have "teacup" in the title. The huge pack of behemoth dogs flocked to these two like crazy. Again, I tried my tennis ball diversion tactic - but again, only I found it interesting. Then, to make the insanity worse, along comes an American Bulldog.

This wouldn't seem like something of note, except that American Bulldogs are apparently not the most purchased of puppies. Or, at least, not where this group of humans was concerned, because as soon as the dog was let to go play, the human males flocked around the Am.Bulldog's owner, another male, like he was the star quarterback on the HS football team. "Is that an American Bulldog?" "Wow, she's got great color." "You know, Boxers were bred from bulldogs and mastiffs," that was the Boxer Dad, obviously. Hump, Milo, hump!

And then it hit me - I'm not cool, because apparently my dogs aren't cool? There's nothing remarkable about a Golden Retriever and a Yellow Lab - kind, bumbling, sweet dogs that everyone sees everywhere. So lame. So humanly lame.

And just as I thought, "Okay, let's blow this popsicle stand...." another dog/human combo shows up. This dog - I can't even tell you what kind of dog this. It looks like a cross between a small wolf and a greyhound. A long, sleek, thin body - built for speed - with shaggy, jet black hair and pointy ears. Her human was another male, but he was young - probably in his late teens, early twenties. He stood on the opposite side of the park, earbuds in, ipod on. His black dog, running circles all over the Park with ridiculous speed ... and every. single. dog. running. behind. I kid you not. Most of the other dogs gave up after about 10 minutes ... but not Hagrid. Hagrid found a new girlfriend. They played tag for the next 20 minutes, until Hermione came and laid down next to me, panting furiously. We packed up my tennis balls and went home.

Cut to now. Hagrid is passed out, dead as a doornail on the floor. I returned from walking them about an hour ago, and instead of the frothing-at-the-mouth excitement they normally have when it's walk time, they were right by my side, sniffing occasionally, stopping every so often. I was dragging them by then end - and we only went around the corner.

So - it was a successful day, I think, despite the human cliques. They behaved like the good dogs they are - and besides some crazy bounding through mud puddles that resulted in two very sloshy baths (provided by yours truly), I was a proud mama.

I may have to go back next Thursday at 5:00 p.m., to see if the Dog Park Gang is there, and do some more anthropological research....

Let my "dog days of summer" begin!

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