Hey There, It's Christa!

My Poor, Neglected Little Blog...

I'm listening to French music as I write tonight and am mourning the fact that it's already May 10, and my poor, neglected little blog hasn't gotten any love yet this month.

In my defense, it's been a rather eventful past week, and not in the way that you necessarily want a week to be eventful.

As all my family and Facebook peeps already know, I got a rather unwelcome surprise when I wrapped up my workout last Wednesday. When reaching for my phone like I always do to see if I missed any calls or e-mails while I was sweating away, it was gone. And then after glancing in the backseat to see whether it was accidentally dropped back there, I discovered that my back rear window was smashed, and along with my phone, they ran off with my purse, wallet, sunglasses, lip gloss, you know life's basic essentials.

Naturally, I'm incredibly thankful that I wasn't carjacked or held at gunpoint while they ran off with my valuables. But undoing all they did, especially since they went on a little gas-buying spree with our debit and credit card, took a while. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm now familiar with the entire soft rock canon since that's what hold music tends to consist of.

It's weird how much we've come to rely on technology. I almost felt like my lost phone was a phantom limb or something since I kept reaching for it when it wasn't there. And now that I've replaced my beloved mobile with its younger, hipper sister, all suddenly feels right in the world again. Sad, I know...

On a totally unrelated note, one thing a phone, smart or otherwise, can't do is make your arms long enough to hang black-out curtains in your bedroom. I'm pretty sure I could've won a "funniest home video" contest in my hour-long attempt to hang the silly thing. Let's just say I'm not a DIY girl like my pal Wendy Lee. I'm guessing she could've hung the darn thing in five minutes flat and probably even has her own ladder to make the job easier.

But I am pleased to report that after a long, sweaty battle with the curtain that I finally emerged victorious. While it's not going to score any big points in the style department (I need to procure slightly longer panels next time around), it's definitely darker in our room, so hurrah for that!

It really is the small things in life that matter, right?

Happy (almost) weekend all!

:) Christa

Grammys 2012: The Good, the Bad, the Truly Bizarre

It's been happening for a while now, but it wasn't until last night that it hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks...

I'm getting O-L-D.

If anything stuck out about last night's Grammys, it's that there's now a pretty sizable disparity between what the masses apparently think is cool (Chris Brown and glowsticks, anyone?) and what I happen to enjoy.

In fact, it wasn't long before I was (gasp!) slipping into grumpy ol' mother territory. Not only did I think that Fergie should've been ordered to put an actual dress over the orange see-through lace contraption she was wearing, but that someone (her publicist, stylist, manager, mother, anyone really) should've let Katy Perry know that her promotional obligations for the Smurfs movie were actually over last summer.

Let's just say that I don't think blue's her color, whether it was the sky blue sparkly variety she sported on the red carpet or the hair that looked roughly the shade of anti-freeze when pinned up or like the Cookie monster's rather unfortunate gal pal when it was all bobbed and crimped.

While we're on the subject of the former Mrs. Brand, don't even get me going on that "song" she lip-synced. How she has five #1 singles from Teenage Dream is an absolute head-scratcher—can someone please explain her allure to me? And no, your answer can't include anything about her costumes' bonus features...

While the Perry performance was awkward, however, "awkward" would've been a flattering description of the whole Nicki Minaj performance/exorcism. Who knew that Lady Gaga showing up as an egg last year would seem downright normal in comparison?

What also could be classified as a total Grammy #fail is giving Chris Brown not one, but two performing slots. Seriously, when did beating up your girlfriend suddenly become okay? I'm all for forgiving and forgetting, but shining the spotlight on this guy is just plain uncool. Wait at least a decade, and then we'll talk.

Lest you think I'm a total pop culture kill-joy, in a night chock full of misfires, there was a few moments I thoroughly enjoyed. Seeing Adele (rightfully) win all those trophies and giggle her way through her acceptance speeches, for one. Being treated to not one, but two doses of Foo Fighters was a total bonus, too. Even Coldplay's somewhat pitchy performance made me smile, while I had to leave the room when Jennifer Hudson started belting out "I Will Always Love You" because I knew I'd tear up big time. My suspicions were confirmed in the privacy of my office today when I watched her sing on YouTube. Yep, I totally needed to fix my raccoon eyes.

Perhaps, the nicest surprise of all was seeing Bon Iver score that "Best New Artist" trophy. While he's not a "new artist" in the least (to wit, he's been making music for more than five years now, illustrious Academy), I was thrilled to pieces when the fellow northern Wisconsite won. Bonus points for giving America's Dairyland a shout-out in your acceptance speech, by the way...

All things considered, I'm (mostly) glad I tuned in, and it provided a few stunning and not-so-stunning revelations to boot. I actually enjoyed the Glen Campbell tribute, something I thought I'd never say. Ditto for the Beach Boys. I also thought LL Cool J did a great job of maintaining a respectful tone as the host, given the surprising change of events with Whitney Houston's unexpected passing.

But in what's been a pretty great year for music these past 12 months, I still couldn't help feeling a little disappointed by the lack of diversity. I mean, did we really need the Carrie Underwood/Tony Bennett duet of big band staple "It Had to Be You?" Was anyone's life really changed by that Bruno Mars performance?

Last but certainly not least, let's talk Taylor Swift for a moment. Now as wonderful as I think it is for young girls to have a fully clothed role model, isn't a standing ovation for her glorified hoedown a bit much? Or am I just much too old to see the inherent genius of Taylor channeling someone probably named Daisy Mae?

Discuss please.

2011: The Year When the Old-Timers Ruled

It's not like we planned it this way, but somehow, the median age of all the artists we saw in concert in 2011 was a whopping 66.3.

In fact, if it hadn't been for Sting, who clocked in at the relatively spritely ol' age of 60, it would've been 69.5.

As you probably have guessed by now, we didn't see Mumford & Sons, The Civil Wars, Adele or even U2, which would've all been incredible...

Instead, we saw Paul McCartney, Bob Dylan and the aforementioned artist formerly known as Gordon Sumner—who aren't exactly lacking in talent. :)

Given my love all of things Beatles, Paul McCartney was always near the top of my list of "Artists I Absolutely, Positively Must See Before I Die."

Sidenote: I don't know why, but I simply refuse to call it a "bucket list." My thought is if a movie's that bad, even with Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman involved,  it doesn't deserve a catchphrase. Or at least one I'd bother using.

Ok, quasi-rant over.

So when Will and I saw that Sir Paul was playing in Vegas this past summer, well, we knew we simply must go. My only mild concern was the state of Paul's voice—and whether he'd still sound good now that he's pushing 70. All I could think of was that Super Bowl halftime show in 2005, and how disappointing it was, but then again, maybe the setting wasn't all that inspiring (the Packers weren't there, after all). Thankfully, he totally killed it, whether he was belting out a great mix of Beatles songs or his best solo tracks.

To wit, I'd even venture to say it was one of my favorite concerts of all time, and anyone who knows me well, knows that's a big deal. After all, I used to frequent shows the way I frequent movies today.

After seeing Paul, Will and I were naturally jonesing for another unforgettable show. And lucky enough for Will, his favorite artist of all time, one Robert Zimmerman, was scheduled to play a casino only an hour from our house.

Now I'll be honest, when I bought Will fifth row tickets to see Dylan back when we lived in St. Paul, I thought that would be the one—and only—time we'd see him. After all, I can only understand about one out of every 40 words the man says, and last time around, I lucked out because the Foo Fighters opened for him (score!).

But Dylan had a pretty important birthday this year—his 70th—so I was willing to see him again, you know for the historical significance, but mostly because I adore my husband. While the venue itself was a little strange, mostly because of the uncomfortable folding chairs normally used for church picnics, it was a pretty great show. Per usual, Bob didn't address the crowd until the very end, sort of a welcome change from the likes of John Mayer who tend to blather on and on about, well, nothing between songs.

Really, my only criticism aside from the seating was a few of the fans. While I love modern technology as much as the next person, do you ever find it annoying when people feel the need to record an entire concert with their Smartphones?

Maybe I'm sounding pretty old and crotchety at the moment, but there's nothing worse than having a small gathering of iPhones impairing your view while you're trying to enjoy the music. It's not that I don't enjoy seeing snippets of things I normally wouldn't get to see (thank you, YouTube), but it just seems like some people are more concerned with documenting the experience than actually experiencing it, and that makes me grumpy.

Ok, first official rant over.

Last but certainly not least, we saw Sting this past Wednesday at the Verizon theater. Not nearly as big as a stadium but still larger than your favorite hole-in-the-wall club, it was the perfect relaxed environment to hear some truly great songs. In addition to his bevy of hits, he dug a bit deeper into his catalog, and Will and I were able to hear tracks we hadn't heard in years.

One obseveration about the Sting crowd: While there are definitely fans of all ages, they are m-e-l-l-o-w with a capital "m," which is actually pretty nice after years and years of standing near mosh pits and dealing with people elbowing you for position. It was the sort of show that everyone enjoyed with a nice glass of wine, which allowed for the focus to be where it belonged—the music.

Now that 2011 has unexpectedly been the year when the old-timers rule, it should be interesting to see what 2012 will bring musically speaking. But I'm guessing we might skew a little bit younger than we did this time around...

What's Rocking My World Right Now: The New Ryan Adams Single

When I heard that Ryan Adams might not be recording any music for a good, long while, I'll be honest, I had my doubts. After all, this is the guy who's written about 35,239 songs in the last decade (and yes, I'm exaggerating, but probably not by much...ha ha).

But then when he split with the Cardinals, announced his hiatus and talked about countless health issues (including big problems with his ears, which you know, are rather crucial when you're a musician), I began to think it was true. Maybe Ryan would just hang with Mandy and expect other musicians to pick up the alt-country slack.

Thankfully, it seems that he and music couldn't stay separated for too long. In addition to his superb new single "Lucky Now," there's a new solo album, Ashes & Fire available for pre-order on iTunes. Can I just say that I already can't wait until October 11th?

In the meantime, though, I've been enjoying the latest from Switchfoot, Vice Verses, a little Rosemary Clooney and the new Coldplay single, "Paradise." By the way, does anyone know how many singles Coldplay plans on releasing before we finally get Mylo Xyloto in full? I've been seeing a few different release dates tossed around...

What I've Been Doing on My "Summer Vacation"...Part 4

While our perpetually balmy temps are certainly no indication that fall is even close to being around the corner in DFW, all those school supplies I'm seeing at at the nearby Target are basically saying "it's a wrap."

And really, I couldn't be happier...I see many less frizzy days in my hair's future.

Plus, I've always had a thing for school supplies, and August always brings out the proverbial cream of the crop. Whether I need them or not, I simply can't resist the allure of new three-subject notebooks, post-its and hot pink highlighters and will pick them up, regardless of the fact that I haven't taken a class since 1998. 

And now to officially celebrate fall's imminent arrival (the school supplies never lie, I tell ya), I'm presenting my final installment of "What I've Been Doing on My 'Summer Vacation'"...

1)Celebrating Miss Adelyn Grace's third birthday...Yeah, I can hardly believe she's already three (!!!) since I've been blogging about the cutie patootie since she was an itty bitty baby. As always, I had a wonderful time in gorgeous, humidity-free Colorado, and it's been such a pleasure to be part of every one of Adelyn's b-days. She even liked the cake this time, which hasn't exactly been the case in the past. Plus, I got to see her with her first pet, a pretty hot pink betta named Louie. And because Louie is named, well, Louie, I taught Adelyn how to sing "Hello Dolly" like Louis Armstrong. Trust me, there's nothing funnier than hearing a tiny little girl imitating me imitating Louis Armstrong...in fact, I'm cracking up just thinking about it.

2)Catching up on my reading...After enjoying The Help like the rest of the human race did months, even years ago, I plowed through Commencement by J. Courtney Sullivan (a two-star read in my humble opinion...really, I only finished to find out what would happen to April, the story's most outrageous character) and Jennifer Weiner's latest Then Came You, a compelling story about classic class struggles, surrogacy and women whose lives intersected in rather intriguing ways.

For the record, now I'm reading Jane Green's Promises to Keep, which I'm told I'm going to need tissues nearby for. After that, I'm going to (finally!!!) see what all the fuss is about The Hunger Games. Everyone I've talked to says it's "intense," so we'll see....

3)Learning to love green tea instead of grande, non-fat caramel macchiatos...yeah when it's iced and has a squeeze of lemon and lime it's not so bad. But it still doesn't taste like caramel.

4)Still loving "Food Network Star" (we're down to the final three...go Sandwich King!) and contemplating what I'd do with the mystery baskets featured on "Chopped." Yeah, that's my kind of reality TV...

5)Working on my novel....yep, Tuesday Nights in Italia is coming along beautifully. Can't wait to for everyone to read it in the not-so-distant future.

6)Rediscovering the gym...because walking outside in triple-digit temps isn't an option. Plus, when you're treadmilling you can watch multiple forms of entertainment at once—the CNBC folks going on and on and on about just how bad the stock market is, a bunch of older gents (in cowboy hats, natch) playing racquetball and a yoga class that I'm pretty sure I'd get kicked out of after five minutes. How everyone's that flexible is one giant mystery to me!

7)Playing Scrabble, Words With Friends and Lexulous. Yes, I love competitive word games, what can I say?

8)Enjoying new music from Fountains of Wayne and Mat Kearney (Young Love is easily his best yet), watching one bad movie after another (exceptions being One Day and Crazy Stupid Love) and being thrilled to pieces that the NFL lockout is over so I can watch my Packers defend their title. Plus, that gives Jim Rome a lot more to "burn" about, so that's always fun, too.

What I've Been Doing on My "Summer Vacation"...Part 3

When I haven't been working, hanging with friends and family or flying the friendly skies, my summer fun has often involved my personal entertainment trifecta—TV, music and movies.

While my DVR is certainly less crowded than usual, there are two guilty pleasures that have kept these warmer months interesting, namely "Next Food Network Star" and far, far more embarrassing reality programming, "The Bachelorette."

More than any other season in recent memory, "Next Food Network Star" has been a total trainwreck—and yes, I've absolutely been lovin' it. Unlike last season where the focus was clearly the food, this time around it's the contestants (and their respective drama, drama, drama) that's taking center stage.

Whether it's Penny the sabotager formerly known as "Stilettos in the Kitchen," Alicia the perpetual cryer who couldn't remember her famous cupcake recipe when duty called or Chris, the loud, beer drinking frat boy who's determined to show the judges that he's mature enough to be a star (yeah, right), it's been so delicious to watch.

As for who I think will succeed the lovable Aarti, last season's winner, my early favorites are Jyll, Orchid and Whitney—although I like Justin, the bow tie guy from Minneapolis, too. I'm pretty sure Justin would capture a demo that's been missing on Food Network since no one really has that geeky professor thing going, except maybe Alton Brown who is a little too sarcastic for his own good (and this is coming from a girl who's fluent in sarcasm).

Moving on to "The Bachelorette," lemme just say that I never, ever intended to watch this season. After surviving Brad's journey to find love, I was o-u-t. After all, weepy, boozy Ashley was nothing short of annoying, and I couldn't fathom watching an entire series featuring (gasp!) her.

But when I was flipping through the channels that particular Monday night, it happened again. I don't remember what it was exactly, but slimy Chris Harrison and his cohorts hooked me yet again.

So now I've basically signed up for several weeks of Ashley whining about Bentley (guess she must have skipped the obligatory single girl reading, He's Just Not That Into You), Ashley questioning whether the guys are really there for the right reasons and Ashley declaring how totally perrrrrfect Thailand is. Like every locale on "The Bachelor" or "The Bachelorette," it is the perfect place to fall in love, after all.

Yeah, I'm mocking, and yes, I already can't wait to watch next Monday night. Or make that Tuesday night since I'll be suffering through the third installment of Transformers while Ashley is handing out roses and reconnecting with Bentley in what's likely to be the most controversial episode of The Bachelorette ever! (Those joining me in watching will be the only ones who'll get the significance of that last sentence...ha ha!).

Of course, summer isn't summer without great movies and music, too. Truth be told, most of the summer flicks haven't been worth all the hype (especially you, Pirates of the Caribbean: Could've Used Some Even Stranger Tides.

Thankfully, J.J. Abrams rarely lets me down (the verdict's still out on "Fringe" mind you, since I've never bothered watching), so Super 8 has definitely been one of the highlights, as was Woody Allen's Midnight in Paris, which was pretty much the perfect valentine to the glorious City of Love I visited only months ago.

Musically speaking, I've been loving the new singles from Coldplay and Gavin DeGraw, not to mention the latest album from Death Cab for Cutie. But for some reason, I seem to be stuck on an oldies but goodies kick. So everyone from Rosemary Clooney to Ella Fitzgerald to Miles Davis has been providing the soundtrack to this summer...not a bad way to make it through those tragically hot months if I do say so myself...

Now it's your turn...what's been rockin' your world entertainment-wise this summer? Anything I should be adding to my DVR or iTunes pronto?

What I've Been Doing on My "Summer Vacation"...Part 2

When it comes to music, I've always been a bit of an old soul...

Even when I was a kid, I always liked the artists my friends hadn't even heard of, let alone listened to. In fact, when my peers were rockin' out to NKOTB, I was still in my Billy Joel phase. 

Basically, while everyone else was hangin' tough and crushin' on dreamy Jordan Knight, I was wishin' that Billy had written "Uptown Girl" about me instead of his model-perfect, now ex-wife, Christie Brinkley.

When I'd had my fill of Billy, I moved on to Duran Duran (and yes, I believed frontman Simon LeBon was my future hubby even years and years after "Rio" and "Hungry Like the Wolf" were radio singles) and eventually, my attention turned to the Fab Four when sporting flannel and listening to Seattle's finest was the thing to do.

While the grunge scene and The Beatles shared very little in common, I still felt pretty cool listening to them, even if seemed "dated" to my fellow high schoolers. Whether it was the happy pop of their early years or the crazy, tripped-out vibe of their records toward the end, I knew I'd stumbled on to something revolutionary every time I listened. To me, great songwriting and spectacular hooks never went out of the style, even if the accompaniment didn't exactly scream "now."

And like the girls back in the era of Beatlemania, I was very taken with Paul and those big, sad brown eyes of his. Truth be told, I've always said that if I were required to cry on cue (and I'm not sure exactly when this scenario would play out, since my acting ambitions are, oh, non-existent), all the director would have to do is play the first few bars of "Eleanor Rigby," and the waterworks would show up right on schedule.

There's just something about Paul's voice and poetic songs that has always resonated with me, so you can only imagine how excited I was when Will surprised me with tickets for his recent show in Vegas. Really, it was like two presents in one since Will and I always have so much fun in the city where we said "I do" five and a half years ago now.

Now I'll fully admit, since Paul is gettin' a little closer to 70, I tried to keep my lofty expectations in check. After all, there has been the odd award show—or even that halftime Super Bowl performance a few years back—where he's sounded a little rough. Thankfully, that sooo wasn't the case during the Vegas show. Funny enough, you could've told me he was 40, and I would've believed you. He looked that young and was full of energy—and his cheeky jokes and quippy stories between songs were a hoot, too.

Not only did his voice sound terrific, but he played flawlessly for nearly two and a half hours. And with 22 Beatles' songs on the set list, not to mention the best of Wings and recent solo efforts, it was a longtime fan's dream come true. Both Will and I felt like we were experiencing something truly special that night, namely one of the best shows we'd seen in a long, long time.

As an added bonus, Yoko Ono was even in the audience, too. And no, she didn't get onstage and sing or do performance art in a box. However, we did spot her joining in on "Hey Jude," which was pretty darn cool considering the song's context.

When all was said and done, the whole night was as close as I was going to get to seeing the Beatles play, which was pretty much the perfect way to spend part of my "summer vacation."

List #4: 10 Albums I Never Have to Cherry-Pick Through...

I know, I know, nobody really listens to albums anymore, thanks to that wonderous gizmo, the iPod.

And trust me, I'm definitely not anti-iPod. I absolutely love mine. It's adorableness personified. For starters, it's hot pink (so what's not to love?) and how else, short of making a weirdo mixtape, could I ever hear Mumford & Sons, Debussy, Norah Jones, Simple Minds, Matt Redman and Ella Fitzgerald in the same set? 

But as cool as the iPod's "shuffle" setting is, I suspect there are still a few music lovers out there who enjoy the immense pleasure of hearing an entire CD the way the artist intended—from start to finish. After all, there is an art to sequencing an album, and I like taking advantage of that from time to time.

So that idea is precisely what inspired today's list—10 Albums I Never Have to Cherry-Pick Through. Unlike the old days where you were stuck buying an entire CD for that one song you loved on the radio (total waste of money, I know), that's no longer the case in the mad, mad world of downloading.

Truth be told, it's a rarity when you come across an entire album that you like soooo much, you're actually willing to download the whole thing, let alone listen all the way through. But over the years, I've come across a few choice selections worthy of everyone's full, unadulterated attention, and with no further yammering on and on, here they are...

Radiohead, OK Computer-I've always had a thing for British bands, and Radiohead is pretty much tops in my book. In fact, they're the last band left on my "Artists I Absolutely, Positively Must See Live Before I Die" list. Now if someone could just persuade them to come back to the States and play somewhere other than NYC...

Ok, back on topic...OK Computer hit stores when I was college, and I was absolutely smitten at first listen. After a steady diet of Blur and Oasis (yeah, I loved 'em both and didn't take sides in their feud), my ears were definitely ready for something new, and OK Computer hit the spot in every possible way. Not only was the production something entirely new for 1997 (and something that's been unsuccessfully imitated by practically every Brit rock band around), but Thom Yorke's signature falsetto never sounded so beautiful and yet thoroughly creepy at the same time. And yeah, I'm still bummed they didn't win "Record of the Year" for OK Computer at the Grammy's because they totally deserved to.

Josh Rouse, Nashville-Before we even knew each other, Will and I both loved going to Tower Records (R.I.P.) in Nashville where we'd put on those hideous oversized headphones and listen to new music. And once we met, that tradition continued, and that's where Josh Rouse's Nashville album comes in. Will told me I'd absolutely love this album, and he was dead on.

It's been five years since it released, and I still listen to it regularly from start to finish. There's just something so warm and inviting and perfectly mellow about it. And yes, it always reminds me of Nashville and when Will and I were dating, so there's happy memories beyond these stellar songs, too.

U2, Achtung Baby-Yeah, I know, I'm supposed to say The Joshua Tree. But the album that made me fall in love with U2 was Achtung Baby. There, I said it. Supposedly, the band argued and argued about the musical direction, and I think it totally paid off. I love how progressive the music was for its time and how darkly introspective the lyrics are. Plus, I think Bono's vocals have never sounded better, particularly on "Zoo Station," "Ultraviolet (Light My Way)" and "Love is Blindness."

Keane, Hopes and Fears-In my opinion, Keane has yet to make a bad album, and that's pretty incredible, considering they've already made four. But their first, Hopes and Fears, is still my favorite, hands down. Tom Chaplin's vocals are nothing short of mindblowing, and it's actually quite amazing what a band can do without guitars in the mix. Yeah, I never thought mostly relying on a piano for the accompaniment would work either, but it does—really.

Sarah McLachlan, Surfacing-From her longing in the songwriting to Sarah's gorgeous soprano, it's absolutely exquisite.

The Beatles, Revolver-In the proverbial desert island situation, this is The Beatles' CD I would've grabbed before the iPod was invented. I love the mood and those crazy psychadelic textures, plus if you're all by yourself on a desert island, you may as well mope and cry a little. And listening to "Eleanor Rigby" would definitely help set the mood, wouldn't ya say?

Ray LaMontagne, Trouble-That sad, sad voice gets me every time, what can I say?

Jars of Clay, Jars of Clay-The band would probably cringe at my choice, and yes, they've certainly made better, more inventive music since their much-ballyhooed debut. But this album is part of my college time capsule, pure and simple. I played it over and over (and over again), much to the chagrin of my 2nd floor neighbors, and to this day, I still love these songs, particularly "Love Song for a Savior," "Art in Me," "Liquid" and "Boy on a String."

John Mayer, Heavier Things-After listening to Room for Squares for the better part of two years, I was pretty sure that John Mayer didn't have another album in him that was equal to that. But as it turns out, he did, and it's even better, thanks to killer tracks like "Clarity," "Wheel" and "Something's Missing."

Ella Fitzgerald, The Best of the Songbooks: Love Songs-During my third year in Nashville in 2003, I went through a phase when I listened to nothing but Ella Fitzgerald for almost six months, and really, who could blame me? What a voice! While it's really difficult to choose a favorite from her "songbooks" collections, I find myself revisiting Love Songs again and again because it's got timeless gems like "From This Moment On," "Love You Madly" and "Solitude."

Honorable Mentions: Other albums that totally fit this bill are Ryan Adams' Gold, Death Cab for Cutie's Transatlanticism, Beck's Sea Change, U2's All That We Can't Leave Behind, Switchfoot's The Beautiful Letdown, Gavin DeGraw's Chariot, Ben Folds Five's Whatever and Ever Amen and Harry Connick Jr.'s We Are in Love.

Now it's your turn, readers. What are some of the albums you never have to cherry-pick through and why? Any new bands I should be listening to pronto?

File Under: Add Bad Musical Taste to the List of Tiger's Offenses

Normally the sound of sports broadcaster Jim Rome's voice is the equivalent of being forced to listen to Rob Thomas, Nickelback and Toby Keith's music on a continual loop. Just ask my hubby whenever we're listening to Rome in the car...just hearing him say "Man's game!" makes me want to change the station—pronto! And I'm a sports fan!

But Rome's recent post about Tiger Woods' failure at fully rehabbing his image seriously brought the giggles. I think Rome may have actually hit this one right on the head. Sounds like Wood's iPod could probably use a little rehabbing, too.

(FYI...thanks to my hubby for showing this article to me...maybe Rome has a good quality or two after all?)

Goin' Back to Nashville...

Just like clockwork, April always brings...

1. The great un-thawing of Minnesota. (Well, except for last year when it actually decided to SNOW! Guess who wasn't happy about that? Yep, you guessed it, yours truly.

2. Some sort of allergy/cold combo where I can't breathe properly through my newly acquired Rudolph nose, usually before, after or during GM Week in Nashville (and thank goodness, it arrived right on schedule a week before my trip).

3. My annual trek to Music City for the aforementioned festivities. Much fruit tea and black bean salad is consumed with friends, music interviews are conducted, and I get my fix of hearing people say they're "fixing to go to the grocery."

4. And yes, there's even some much-needed showers for those May flowers, too. But preferably not during my trip.

Since I'm in the midst of packing for Nashville, I found myself getting a little nostalgic. More specifically, it got me thinking about my very first GM Week (for the uninitiated, that's Gospel Music Week, a few days of interviews, meet and greets, showcases and the Dove Awards, which serve as the industry's big grand finale that honors the best artists of the genre).

When I did the math (never my specialty, but at least this was fairly basic) to figure out exactly how long it's been since that landmark trip of my college days, I must admit I was in shock. It's actually been 13 years!

13!

My, my, my, I feel old (and I'm guessing my pal Amy Bickel, who accompanied me for all the fun, probably feels the same). Incidentally, that trip to Nashville also marked my first-ever flight, which is hilarious considering how I've been making up for my lack of frequent flier miles ever since.

In addition to my first tour of the friendly skies, the Nashville trip also marked my first byline that I'd traveled a considerable distance for. Around the time my junior year had rolled around, I decided that I had to write about GM Week and the Doves for our campus paper, The Northern Light.

Only trouble is, I wasn't a "real" journalist, only a college one, but I wasn't about to let that deter me. For whatever reason (youthful determination, or sheer stupidity, take your pick) I just knew the Gospel Music Association would just have to say "yes" to Amy and I covering the event, and I'm sure glad (thanks Tricia Whitehead) they overlooked our lack of credentials.

While interviewing a slew of my favorite artists at the time, namely Jars of Clay who'd just released their second CD, Much Afraid, I discovered my passion for writing about music. In fact, I was pretty sure that's what I wanted to do in my post-college life. And when people started asking what I had planned for my future (like they so often do, whether you like it or not) I told them I was packing up my trusty Buick Century (a huge "grandma" car that I don't miss in the least) and moving to Nashville. After all, the place, not to mention the music, had made quite an impression on me—even if I'd only been there once.

Then after working a slew of odd jobs (and "odd" is really the only way to describe these gigs with so little in common) once I moved to town, I actually ended up working for the very magazine I'd been subscribing to since I was 14, CCM Magazine. I liked working there so much, in fact, that I stayed for five and a half years before becoming a full-time freelance writer/author.

Now all these years later, (and four since my hubby and I officially left Nashville for the Great White North), I'm still covering GM Week. And while it's probably not with the same youthful exuberance of my college years, (I mean who can compete with that?), it's always fun to reconnect with everyone I've met along the way.

And just like my first trip to NashVegas, I will still always be in awe of just how much butter the cooks slap on top of the delicious pancakes at Pancake Pantry. If you haven't witnessed it for yourself, let's just say that Paula Deen would be proud—very proud indeed.