Live music, take note

One of the best parts of summer are all of the concerts and we've been to some great ones this year. But even my recent outing to the amazing Paul McCartney show reminded me those who put on concerts still have a lot to learn from their counterparts in the theater world.

The best thing about live theater is that it's generally predictable. When you have tickets to an 8 p.m. show for theatrical performance, it begins at 8 p.m. When you have tickets to an 8 p.m. concert, you're lucky if the act you're there to see goes on at 9. First you have to sit through an opening act that few have heard of and even fewer enjoy. Then it's a waiting game as everyone checks their watch and makes guesses as to which 15 minute increment the artist will select to grace us.

In addition, when you go to the theater you know what songs you're going to hear, whether there will be an intermission, and you never have to sit through the charade that is the encore. I don't understand the need for encores anymore. You know the artist is going to do an encore. The artist knows he's going to do an encore. Cut the crap and don't waste our time feigning disbelief that we simply must have more. Finish with your big hit and call it a night.

Theater venues are usually must more comfortable places too. I know big stadium shows and other outdoor venues are considered the place to be for a real rock concert, but the shows I've enjoyed most are held in theaters. Give me a padded chair, clean bathrooms, and a temperature-controlled climate any day.

Concert-goers also have a lot to learn from their theater-going brethren when it comes to manners. When you go to a Broadway musical, you let the professionals do the singing. But when you go to a concert, there are inevitably drunk fans who sing along and usually loudly. When I pay upwards of $75 for a ticket to a show (and let's face it, it's usually far upwards) then I'm there to hear the performer, not the drunk frat boys behind me.

And yes, I understand that some songs scream for you to sing along with them, but not every song. By all means, feel free to belt out the lyrics to Piano Man, Hey Jude, or If I Had a Million Dollars. But please, oh please, keep your mouth closed when it's time for Yesterday.

I don't pretend to believe that all theater-goers are models of perfect decorum. I can't count the number of performances I've sat through where despite strict instructions to turn off cell phones, an errant ringtone inevitably disrupts an important moment. But, I've also never seen a group of theater-goers deboard a kegbus. It's just a different crowd.

Maybe I'm getting too old for concerts. And maybe that's a good thing because just about all of the artists I want to see are on their last legs anyhow. Thank goodness theater will always be around to keep me nice and cozy.

Twitter me this

Journalists left and right are falling all over themselves trying to convince the public that Twitter is the best thing ever.

And they're so very wrong.

Reporters regard Twitter as the savior for the news business when, in fact, it's really no more than a narcissist's dream.

For the uninitiated, I should probably provide a quick primer before going any further. Twitter is a web-based platform that allows users to post 140-character updates, or "tweets," that others can follow on their computers, cell phones, or other mobile devices.

Unfortunately this Twitter mania is catching on. Politicians love it because it's a new toy that gives the impression that they're of the people instead of the elitists that they really are.

Just a few weeks back when President Obama addressed a joint session of Congress, a handful of our elected officials used the opportunity to do their own play-by-play via Twitter. Yes, instead of hanging on every word as the leader of the free world discussed the biggest economic crisis of our times, these politicians instead opted to text. Nice. I'm so glad to see our austere representatives are on the same level as a group of tweens at a Jonas Brothers concert.

Now I'm not saying that Twitter doesn't have its uses. I'm just saying that even with all of the amazing people I have in my life, not a single one of them is interesting enough to warrant a forum to keep me posted on their every move and thought throughout the day.

I think Twitter could be a very positive tool if used sparingly. For instance I think it would be helpful to keep people in the loop for important life events, especially when it's not practical to make a bunch of phone calls.

Example: "So-and-so is out of surgery and doctors are hopeful." Good use of Twitter.

"So-and-so's water broke and we're on our way to the hospital." Good use of Twitter.

"I am opening the ketchup bottle." Bad Twitter person!

Now some may accuse me of being a hypocrite because while I refuse to Twitter, I do update my status on Facebook. There is, however, one big difference between the two sites. Facebook is about more than just a status update; Twitter is only a status update.

Regrettably, it looks like Twitter is here to stay. I'll just keep my fingers crossed that it soon goes the way of the typewriter, telegraph, and cave paintings.

The secret of the Irish

This St. Patrick's Day I think everybody should just come clean and admit what we all already know: Nobody actually likes Irish food.

Americans go through this elaborate ruse every March. "Oh look, it's corned beef and cabbage," we say. "Yummy, I'll have the shepherd's pie." Just shut up. We all know you'd rather have pizza or a burger. And there's nowhere near enough Guinness or Bailey's in the world to make bangers and mash even look edible.

Please understand that I don't mean any harm to the wonderful country of Ireland. I love everything else about that country and enjoyed every second I spent there. The people are so friendly and the atmosphere is so relaxed. (Clearly I didn't spend any time in Northern Ireland.) It's just that the cuisine leaves a lot to be desired.

I only got to spend a few days in Ireland when I went in 2001 but I did my best to sample the local flavor. On our first night in Dublin we went to a traditional Irish pub and I ordered something called chicken boxty which the waiter said was common Irish dish. It was okay but certainly nothing special. It's sad but my best meal in all of Ireland came from Supermacs, an Irish version of McDonalds.

To be fair, I understand that St. Patrick's Day is more about the drinking than the eating. Still, it would still be nice to have something worth washing down with all that green beer.

This St. Paddy's Day I plan to stick to normal cuisine. My ridiculously gaudy shamrock socks will have to show my Irish pride for me.

Catch me if you can (and trust me, you can)

I've been doing something lately that I never thought I would do. I've been running. And when I say running, I mean without being chased.

Since the beginning of February I've been doing a program called Couch to 5K. As the name implies, it's designed to get you off the couch and ready to run a 5K. I just completely four weeks of the nine-week program and I'm hoping to run the Bloomin' 5k on May 17.

I haven't told many people about my training, mainly because I was afraid I would quit before I got too far. I'm not the most athletic person and moreover, I've never been a runner, even back in my field hockey days. But, for some reason, I felt this was something I should do. Maybe it had something to do with turning 30.

I'm actually pretty proud of myself for sticking with it. I'm a big fan of being able to check things off a list and this lets me do just that. There's only been one workout I couldn't finish -- the first one of week four -- and I went back and did it a few days later. It was a nice sense of accomplishment.

Unfortunately I haven't seen the same progress on the scale. I started back with Weight Watchers at the beginning of January and while I was able to lose about five pounds that month, I've only lost a pound a half since I started running. It's frustrating because I know I'm doing everything right. I just wish the scale would recognize that.

Still, I know I'm healthier and building my endurance. My legs are definitely stronger. I'll never be a fast runner -- an elephant could lap me -- but I'm okay with that. I don't mind if I don't finish a winner; I just want to finish.

Over the weekend I took Buddy and Snoopy for a walk around my parents' neighborhood. The loop is about a mile and a third around and I was practically dragging the dogs behind me by the time I reached the halfway point. It was nice not being the one dragged for once.

Welcoming the new

She may have been three weeks earlier than expected but I'm quite excited to welcome a new little friend into the world. Riley Rose was born on Monday to our good friends, Kristen and Nathan and we had the pleasure of meeting her, with her full head of Nathan-like hair, the very next day.

I wasn't exactly enthusiastic when I first learned that our favorite couple was expecting. It was more like a combination of shock and confusion and I didn't react too well. When Nathan first said Kristen was pregnant, I suppressed my initial urge to blurt out "On purpose?"

I wised up quickly enough and over the past few months have warmed to the concept of our friends with a baby. It helps that I have full confidence that Kristen and Nathan will be wonderful parents and will raise what I'm sure could be the world's most perfect child. But no pressure, of course.

After meeting Riley and seeing what a good baby she is, I'm starting to get excited about all of the things we'll be able to teach her. And we can use her as an excuse too. Instead of Rich and I looking silly adults when we go to the circus or the zoo, now we'll be able to take Riley because, well, that's what you do with kids. It's a win-win.

So welcome Riley, and congratulations to your parents. Please stay as sweet as you were in our hour together and do your best to minimize the stinky diapers. Thanks in advance.