Concert Etiquette

Text with my family last night who was at home while I was @MumfordAndSons concert.

Me: I understand now why some women throw away perfectly good underwear at concerts.

Hubs: Uh…the kids are on this chat.

Me: Haha. Just joking.

16 y/o: MOM WTF

Me: I meant other women. Not me.

16 y/o: Ok then.

Me: My panties are firmly in place. For now….

11 y/o: Ewwwwww

16 y/o: Thanks mom. I need to f %^&ing bleach my brain.



An Enchanted Evening?

I love romance and romantic musicals, especially from the 40s and 50s. One that I never really took to, though, was South Pacific.  The song, Some Enchanted Evening, sets up unrealistic expectations about love at first sight. (Never mind the hundreds of other musicals that set up unrealistic expectations of love at first sight…) So I rewrote the song for the modern woman which, while maybe more depressing, is a sight more realistic than whatever lovey-dovey bull Rodgers and Hammerstein were slinging back then.
Here is:”A Disenchanted Evening:
Some disenchanted evening, you will see a stranger,
You’ll see many strangers across a crowded bar,
Some tall and some short, rich ones and poor
All trying to chat you up while you try not to snore.

Some disenchanted evening, someone will cop a feel,
Someone will grab your butt, and you will throat punch them
It’s not 1950 anymore and you’re self-actualized, not a toy,
The sound of their whining and gasping, will bring such joy.

Why didn’t you stay home? You’ll ask yourself many times.
Foolish and hopeful, you know you prefer Netflix guys!
Some disenchanted evening, you’ll not find your true love,
He’s not at a crowded pub in a smoke-filled room,
So fly far away, stay at home in your sweats binging TV
It’s better to dream alone than be saddled with a man-baby.
Once you’ve found the perfect series, binge until you’re done,
Once you have found it, you will never be alone!

Dry cleaner


I wish there were a dry cleaner for the soul

Wait ten minutes, we’ll mend any holes!

Clean out the soot, remove all the stains

Have it back in a flash, free from all pain.


But then what would I do with a soul sparkling clean?

While my thoughts are riddled, ugly and mean

This pure soul would take a look at the shell

Who’d housed it in good, yet brought it through hell.


It would want to flee, fly far from its home

But knowing to do so would leave me to roam

Without a beacon, some promise of hope

Body without soul is unable to cope


Instead of fleeing into the light

My soul would give over with nary a fight

And so I’d be saddled once more with a hole

Which used to be, once, a beautiful soul.

(C) Sara Ackerman, 2019