These Days It Seems We Never Stay Home

The American Idol concert was much more enjoyable than I anticipated. Those guys and girls are GOOD -- I couldn't sing that well even in my imagination.

My kids and I are in San Diego for a week. Robespierre is attending sleepover Sea World camp with a couple of friends.

That's right -- sleepover camp at Sea World.

They have dorms with bunk beds. They get to go backstage and see how the animals are cared for. They get to dress in wet suits and slosh around in the bat ray pools. They get to go on a boogie boarding field trip at the beach. If camp had been like that when I was a kid I probably would have enjoyed it.

Not really.

Meanwhile, Cleopatra is at camp in the mornings and we pal around the rest of the time with our friends and each other. The first afternoon we had a girlie day -- lunch at Neiman Marcus, followed by a pedicure for her and a manicure for me, a chocolate freeze from Godiva, and a Hannah Montana shirt from Macy's (for her, not me). We've been to the beach twice, and last night we had fondue. The weather is way better than where we live; right now it's brain damage weather at home -- about 102 degrees and 98% humidity. Good grief!

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I'm Going to the American Idol Concert!

And I've never seen American Idol in my life!!

Nor have I ever been the least bit interested!

So why am I going? you might ask (or you might not, for all I know).

Well.

I have a friend (J) who has a friend (L) (are you following this?) who's a lawyer at a prominent local law firm. L requested the firm's box seats for the concert and dutifully (but reluctantly) invited some clients, who were unable to attend. J and L were both dying to go, but L would've looked very bad to the partners if she'd just brought a friend who has no prospect of ever becoming the firm's client. So they put on their thinking caps to try to find someone to invite who might at least give the appearance of being a potential client, and my name came up.

I'm somewhat older than both of them, and I own a house and a not-yet-profitable business. My only duty, apparently, is to raise my eyebrows knowingly to imply that I possibly might someday abandon the law firm I've used for years, and practiced law with before that, in favor of this quite large and venerable firm, mainly due to their generosity in affording me the chance to spend two hours watching the singing equivalent of the Campbell's Soup or Discover Stars on Ice, or whoever sponsers semi-famous figure skaters these days.

Maybe it won't be excruciating. It might even be fun, and since I don't get out much it'll certainly be different.

Let's see... big purse, paperback book, teeny tiny flashlight...

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