Emily the Groupie is Dead

INXS Album Cover, circa 1985
INXS Album Cover, circa 1985

Alright kiddies … this is gonna be one of those posts where we go back in time. Where we peer into the past to discover a little more of my younger years.

And why, may you ask, did I decide to to this today? Well because today marks twenty-two years since the beginning of my obsession with all things INXS.

So sit tight … and prepare to laugh your a$$es off …

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Picture this, I was all of 14 years old about to start my first year in high school. My cousin in London, Ontario called up and said, “Hey Em. Are you and your brother interested in seeing INXS over here?” Of course, I jumped at the chance … what teenage girl wouldn’t?

The first band I ever "loved" ...
The first band I ever "loved" ...

My cousin and I have been known to share such similar tastes in music ever since a road trip to Florida when we sang the soundtrack to “Grea.se” pretty much all the way down. And with the advent of MTV and MuchMusic (Canada’s MTV) in the early 80’s, we were exposed to so much more diverse music. D.uran D.uran was one of our first “loves” of many to come over the next decade.

Anyway, INXS was another one of those bands that I began to really like … first because of their interesting videos, and then because of their music. I can remember being 11 years old and fascinated by watching “The One Thing” video … you know, the one where they completely gorge themselves with this massive table of food? And I just remember really liking the catchy beat of “Don’t Change“.

But I never thought more about them, other than really liking their music until that one fateful night on the 2nd of August, 1986. The year INXS was on tour for their “Listen Like Thieves” album.

The glory of "Hutch" on stage
The glory of "Hutch" on stage

At 17 and 14 respectively, my cousin and I had this need to somehow be in the front row for this concert. And since the tickets were general admission, we found ourselves sitting outside of the auditorium well before the doors would open. Our patience was justly rewarded as we managed to plant ourselves at front and center. What I can recall of that concert was just how incredibly raw and powerful their performance was. Even at 14 years old, I can remember thinking that I was witnessing an amazing band. Of course, it didn’t help that my raging hormones couldn’t keep my eyes of Michael Hutchence. Yeah … back then, I had a thing for men with long hair and cool shoes …

After the concert, we thought of nothing but grabbing some food and getting back to my cousin’s house, where we could just hang out with some of her friends. So we drove by the T.im Ho.rton’s close her house, which just happened to be by one of the hotels close to the freeway. When we pulled around back, we happened to catch a glimpse of a purple tour bus. And earlier in the day, while waiting outside of the auditorium, we happened to see a purple tour bus. “Nah …,” we all thought. “What are the chances?”

“What the hell,” we all thought. “Let’s just see if maybe they’re hanging out close by.” So imagine our surprise when we happened upon a very drunk Tim Farriss. But despite being completey sh*t-faced, he was a really great person. He was gracious enough to sign some autographs and pose for some pictures. And because he was so wasted, I’m sure he didn’t mean to tell us that they were going to be checking out tomorrow morning. ๐Ÿ™‚

So after staying up all night (fueled by T.im Ho.rton’s coffee, of course), we came back the next morning. We did end up waiting quite a while in the car, but eventually (probably around 9:30 or so), one by one, the band started to surface.

And honestly, since it’s been more than twenty years, I can’t remember all of the details of our chance meeting. (Although I’m sure I could probably dig it up from some of the old letters that my cousin and I wrote to each other.) I do remember that they were all incredibly nice and friendly. And probably pretty hungover, too. (Or maybe they just had cologne that smelled like bourbon? ๐Ÿ˜› )

INXS, circa 1988, at the height of "Kick"
INXS, circa 1988, at the height of "Kick"

One memory I will always hold close to my heart is when Michael Hutchence found out that we (my two cousins, my brother and I) were all related. “No way, really?,” he asked us. And then he spontaneously broke out into song with S.ister Sled.ge’s “We Are Family.” And now every time I hear that song, I can’t help but smile and think of that day.

And thus started my love affair with INXS. No, I did not follow them from city to city. Besides, back then I was (still?) a good Catholic Filipino-American gal. I did, however, religiously watch MTV trying to videotape any and every video / interview / performance I could manage to get. I never did join the fan club at that time, but somehow between my cousin and I, we would know exactly where the band was and what they were up to.

Because of that, I consider myself very lucky to have caught INXS on tour back in September of 1987. This was only the second date of the US tour that the band did prior to the release of “Kick“. It was one of those tours where the band would “practice” their new songs off their latest album to test it in front of an audience. And because the album was not yet released, there were very few new songs that any of us knew. But yet, I can remember being completely enthralled with it. Because, looking back now, I can remember thinking, “Wow. What a culmination of all their styles” … Yes, the music geek in me thought that these songs combined the R&B / Soul of their “Shabooh Shoobah” album with the “’80’s New Wave Alternative” album of “The Swing” and the ultimate “Rock ‘n Roll” of their “Listen Like Thieves” and album. In.Cred.Ible. And may I remind you, once again, that this was even before the “Kick” album was even released?! (I must have been a “special” 15 year old back then … yeah, special like “Ed.”)

I found this pretty funny ...
I found this pretty funny ...

Flash forward to college. By 1990, I had seen INXS a total of five times. (One instance back in 1988 had my mother helping my cousin and I “stalk” the band while they were back in Michigan. By then, they were incredibly huge and there was no way we thought we would find them. But alas, my Mom found them at a larger hotel where we were able to meet Kirk, the guitarist / sax player, in the lounge. Again, what another fun experience.) The album “X” was released that summer and I was working at a local record store (yeah, how ’80’s “Prett.y In Pi.nk” could I be?!). While those songs, especially “Disappear“, served as awesome drinking songs during dorm room parties, I just didn’t have the inclination to go see them when they came around in concert. First of all, they were huge. And second of all … They. Were. Huge. How fun is it to go see them in concert when all I’d be able to see is a “leeetle” tiny spec of them from the nosebleeds seats? (Hey, I was in college then. I couldn’t afford to buy the more expensive main floor jumbo-arena tickets!) So I passed.

And then the last time I ever saw Michael Hutchence in person. It was 1994, the “Get Out of the House” tour. This was a tour to promote their latest album at the time, “Welcome to Wherever You Are“. This was the type of tour where INXS wanted to return to the small bars and clubs of their earlier years. This was one concert I felt that I could not miss … where else would I have the opportunity to see them up close and personal?

By then, I was already in Nursing school and was dating future Hubby. I admit, I was a little concerned about taking future-Hubby to this concert. It would mean that I would have to “introduce” future-Hubby to the “other” love of my life. BUT seeing as future-Hubby stood in line all night long (while I worked the midnight shift at the local hospital as a Nurse Assistant) at the venue where the band would be playing … the only location that tickets would be sold available … I couldn’t not take him. How cruel would I have been?

Uh ... yeah ...
Uh ... yeah ...

But even Hubby couldn’t discount how incredible it was to see them at such a small venue. The fact that we happened to make it to the front of the stage just made it more spectacular. Also was the fact that we didn’t get completely crushed up against the stage. Future-Hubby managed to make his way out of the crowd, while I wanted to bask in all of INXS (well, who am I kidding … Michael Hutchence’s) glory. And when a nice guy ended up shielding me from the pressing crowd and at the end of the concert gave me a guitar pick that he managed to catch … well, I don’t think that made future-Hubby very happy at that time. Today though, it happens to be a running joke about the one time I picked up some stranger at the INXS concert. And how he had the nerve to leave me to be crushed by the crowd. Good thing we can joke about those things!

What an incredible loss ...
What an incredible loss ...

And then came that fateful day on November 22, 1997. Yes, I remember that day clearly; the day that Michael Hutchence died. It started out with an early morning call from my cousin, of all people. The one and the same person who took me to that fateful concert 11 years prior. Both her and I were in complete shock. That summer, Hubby & I had plans to go see INXS again at a music festival put on by the local radio station. At the last minute, we decided not to go … me thinking that I had already seen them so many times and that we’d have more opportunities to see them again in the future. How wrong I was. And for years I mourned what I considered “the end” of an incredible band.

Flash forward again to 2005. Earlier in 2004, I had heard rumors about INXS working with Ma.rk Bu.rnett on a reality show to find the band a new lead singer. “Wrong,” I remember thinking at the time. “Just Wrong.” My thought is that the remainder of the band had every right to carry on … but, how could INXS still be INXS without “Hutch”? Why not do like the remaining members of J.oy Divi.sion (who subsequently became Ne.w Or.der, for those that didn’t know) and rename themselves?

But ask me if I tuned in to watch “Rock.star: INXS“, and I’d tell you that I did so religiously. I even voted every week online. Multiple times. H*ll, I figured that if my favorite band was going to invest in a new lead singer, I had to put my two cents in. I was originally opting for a female lead singer (LOOOVED Jor.dis U.nga), but then she got the boot. Then for me, it was a toss up between Mi.g Aye.sa and Mar.ty Ca.sey. Mi.g Aye.sa was half-Filipino … so I reeeally wanted that connection to the band. And Mar.ty Ca.sey … well, he was just different than Michael Hutchence. And if INXS was looking to go in a new direction … well, I didn’t want someone who try to “fit the role” of Michael Hutchence. Which is the reason why I was initially disappointed that J.D. Fo.rtune won.

Who's better ... Michael? Or J.D.?
Who's better ... Michael? Or J.D.?

The absolute last time I saw INXS was early 2006; when they toured with J.D. as the front man. I just had to know … had to see for myself if they made the right choice. I managed to get 2nd row and was I was incredibly happy that it was an assigned-seated event. (G*d musta known my 30-something body could no longer take the beating …) And while I now know for sure that the remaining INXS members did choose the right person, I feel I can no longer enjoy the band as much as I did before. Don’t get me wrong … their songs are still incredible (especially “Afterglow” and “God’s Top Ten“, both which coincidentally happen to be songs written about Michael Hutchence) … And my ears will probably have a tendency to perk up if I ever hear news about the band … I just won’t have that same love or passion as I once did for INXS.

And thus, I’d say that 2006 was probably the year that Emily, the Groupie died.

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And now here are some personal pictures from my experiences with INXS

Emily Goes Green

First things first. Go over to Kara‘s blog and give her a virtual hug. She needs it right now.

Alrighty then … now that we got that bit out of the way …

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So the title of my latest rambling is “Emily Goes Green.” (Duh, sayeth the reader. The title is right there!)

And no, I don’t mean that I’m going “green with envy” … although the fact that my SIL is due to deliver by c-section in a mere 4 weeks might have me feeling more blue-ish/green (turquoise, if you will) for a spell. I just hope it’s not one of those spells that have me riding up and down and upside-down, much like a roller coaster.

Check out the "green" toilet in the Portland, OR airport!
Check out the "green" toilet in the Portland, OR airport!

Nah, I’m talking about the “social awareness” type of green. You know, save the environment, Mother Earth needs to be nurtured, etc. You see, I’ve always been “green” in some sort of way since my later years in high school. Did a lot of recycling of paper, plastic and aluminum for most of my life. Collected newspapers for school recycling projects. (Heck, I’ve also been known to use the Sunday Comics as wrapping paper!)

In fact, at work I’ve been called the paper recycle queen. I’ve collected the stupid d*mn banner sheets off of our printer / copy machines and have forced people to reuse the back of the banner sheets in our fax machines. I’ve encouraged people not to print up things that they can readily access off of their computer. I’ve helped to establish desktop faxing so there is less waste of paper. I’ve stopped buying bottled water and instead have been filling up my reusable water bottle from the filtered tap water in our cafeteria.

Here's a closer look at the "Green" toilet instructions!
Here's a closer look at the "Green" toilet instructions!

And I do all this because I know (even before watching “An Incon.venient Tr.uth” ) that mass consumption is going to be the death of our earth. (Go see “W.all-E“, by the way …)

So imagine my surprise when we went to pick up our rental car during our recent trip to San Diego (which, by the way … pictures are forthcoming!) and found out that the rental company assigned a hybrid vehicle to us. Yeah, I was ecstatic … because for the past couple years, Hubby & I have been thinking of getting a hybrid vehicle.

Let me preface this by saying a couple of things:

  1. We live in the Motor City, so everyone (and I do mean everyone) owns a vehicle because … G*d forbid, we have any reliable source of mass transportation (and no, the Pe.ople Mo.ver does NOT count) …
  2. Hubby works approximately an hour and a half away from where we live and has single-handedly put on over 200,000 miles on both of our cars over the past five years or less … AND
  3. Gas prices just SUCK

So yeah … having rented this vehicle just happened to provide us with a great opportunity for us to test-drive a hybrid. If only the first half hour wasn’t so damn funny … and I do mean funny as in “strange” and funny as in “ha ha!”

Now, Kara … I have to warn you, you’ve already heard this story … so, turn away if you must!

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Okay, picture this. It’s 11:45 pm California time (PST). Our friend J and I are waiting for Hubby outside in the rental car lot while he signs the paperwork. Hubby come out and excitedly tells me that they rented out a hybrid vehicle to us. And because we have about 5 bags (including our carry-ons) among us, Hubby said that he’d walk to the rental and then drive back to pick us up.

The Magic Key
The Magic Key

About ten minutes later, no car. Suddenly my mobile phone goes off and I immediately know that it’s Hubby. “I need your help,” he says. “Can you walk over to the car and take a look at something for me?” So I walk a couple hundred feet to the white To.yota Pr.ius, where Hubby has the car door open and is handing me a keychain containing two keyless entry remotes. “I can’t figure out how to get to the key out to start the car.”

I look at the little black rectangular keyless entry remotes and think that perhaps there’s some sort of button on it to “release” the key; much like some other cars do. After about 5 minutes of pushing and pulling and sliding different thingies on the remote, Hubby decides to walk back to our friend J so that the two of them can bring all our baggage over.

In the mean time, I slide into the driver’s seat to get to the compartment where the owner’s manual should be. And then I see this green, glow-in-the-dark rectangle by the steering wheel. No way … I remember thinking. It can’t be that easy.

"By the Power of Greyskull ..."
"By the Power of Greyskull ..."

But sure enough, I take the keyless remote and slide it right into the green rectangle. And suddenly there’s lights and a beeping noise as if I left the car door open (which I did) with the keys still in the ignition (which apparently the remote was the the key).

And yet … no sound of the car running. “Oh,” I say out loud, as I notice this big round button that says “Power” on it. Perhaps if I push the button …. but still nothing. By this time, Hubby & J are by my side, amazed that I even figured out how to get the keys in the car. And yet, every time any of us go to press the “Power” button, we would get no indication that the car was actually running.

So now it’s about 12:15 am PST, which … for those who just flew in from Michigan … is about 3:15 am EST, the three of us had poured over the d*mn owner’s manual with absolutely no idea on how to start the car. And all we wanna do is get to our hotel room so we can crash for the night. “This is ridiculous,” says Hubby. “I’m gonna ask the girl inside.” And so off he stalks.

Within 3 minutes he’s back at the car. “She says to press the brake while pushing the power button.” (Because that little bit of info is nowhere in the owner’s manual!) And so he complies. Bingo … the digital odometer finally appears as well as a slew of other important car features (climate control being my priority, of course!). “There we go,” says Hubby, as he starts to shift the car into drive.

The Funky Gear Shift (and the Park button, too!)
The Funky Gear Shift (and the Park button, too!)

“Wait,” I say to Hubby. “Are you sure it’s even running? I don’t hear a thing!”

“It is,” Hubby assures me. “The girl said the engine is extremely quiet, so it always tends to fool first-time hybrid users.” After that, he presses the brakes and places the car into “Drive.” And once he lets go of the gear shift, it promptly returns back into neutral. “Weird,” Hubby says and tries it again. And once again, the gear shift returns to the neutral position.

J and I look at each other and I know we’re both thinking the same thing: “How the h*ll do we get this car to move forward. Or backward. Or at all?!

“Oh, I get it,” says the driver. “I think the gear shift is a simple lever.” Sounds strange, but I knew that Hubby meant that really … the car could move either forward or reverse at the touch of a button. But because we’ve all gotten so used to the concept of a gear shift, the carmaker developed a contraption that works very similar to what we were familiar with. And once we all understood that, Hubby “pseudo-shifted” the car into Drive,” and finally got the car to move forward.

Wicked (and I mean WICKED) Interior
Wicked (and I mean WICKED) Interior

In the midst of our short drive to the hotel, we discovered other crazy things about the car. For instance, the digital display monitor is multi-functional and controls not only the interior climate but the radio tuner as well. And when the car is placed in reverse, the digital display monitor functions as the screen for the “backup camera” feature, which allows for a view of the car’s rear area. “How frickin’ cool,” we all think when we see it for the first time.

By the time we pull up to our hotel, it’s about 1:00 am PST (4:00 am EST, if you’re keeping track of how long our day has been). “Uh …,” says Hubby. “Now how do I put this sucker in park?” I glance over at the display and confirm that there is no “Park” option in the gear shift. I shrug my shoulders as Hubby and I both happen to catch this little sticker label right by the gear shift. “Push the ‘P’ button to place in Park,” Hubby reads out loud.

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So yeah … that was our first ever experience with a hybrid vehicle. I have no idea if this is what other hybrid vehicles are like, but this one certainly had the three of us simultaneously banging our heads up against the car window and laughing our a$$es off.

Making the world a little greener ...
Making the world a little greener ...

Now ask me if I’d ever drive another To.yota Pr.ius again, and the answer is a resounding yes. After figuring out how to work everything in the car, the little bugger was so d*mn cool. But the best part was … after about six days of driving the car essentially all over San Diego and as far up as Del Mar, we only used a half a tank of gas. That’s almost 250 miles of driving at a mere 4-5 gallons of gas.

Makes me wanna paint the whole world green …

Rinse and Repeat

I’ve finally sought some professional help.

Okay, so technically I’ve already been seeing a wonderful therapist (… who completely ROCKS, by the way). But that’s not the kind of help I sought out this morning.

You see, I have been absolutely sick since coming back from vacation. Yes, I initially thought all the deathly-doggedness and weariness was simply from a stupid case of jet-lag. And then I thought … only a 2-frickin’-hour time difference? How can it be jet-lag?

And then I started with the runny nose. And the congestion. And then came the sore throat and the cough. By Wednesday, I thought I got over the hump and was back on the road to recovery. But then I lost my voice on Thursday and then developed soreness on my ribs from all the frackin’ coughing on Friday.

So after a night of coughing up yucky stuff … oh, and my lung … I broke down and went to an urgent care center this morning. Because I thought I might be able to kick this sickness with lots of juice and soup and fluids all on my own. Alas, the stubborn nurse in me finally broke down and kindly asked for some help (read: magic candy pills) in getting rid of this bugger. So Dr. Candyman so abliged after looking at my nose and throat (all swollen) and listening to my lungs (nice and clear). “Bronchitis,” he says and tells me to take it easy for a few days. Sheeee-it. Can’t I at least have a note for work excusing me for … oh, I don’t know … the next twenty years?!

Anyway ….

Thank you thank you thank you for all those that have told me I’m not the only one out there that can’t “just relax” and also for those that have offered wonderful relaxation tips. Reading all your comments has just made me smile a little longer, laugh a little louder.

I seriously don’t know what I would do without my bloggy friends. Geesh … it still astounds me that after eeons of IF issues, I’ve only found this method of support a year ago. How I ever survived before finding you all is nothing short of a miracle.

Oh yes … now I remember. I just went day to day simply in survival mode … Wake up, go to work, come home, spend time with Hubby, and sleep. Rinse and repeat day after day after day.

It’s still the same rinse cycle I live in, but at least this detergent has color-guard in it … to prevent colors from fading.

If you didn’t get my sad attempt at making a clever wordplay … you guys add color to my otherwise lack-lustered world.

Swimming the Breaststroke *updated*

For those of you that don’t know, TMI is an acronym for “Too Much Information.” So … I’m warning you now, if you don’t wanna read about women stuff, it’s best that you click off this page now .

two_flowersHere … check out this post if you’d rather not read on.

Hum dee dum dum … Dum dee doo dah …

Okay. Fair warning. Here goes.

I have gained weight. And it’s all because of that damn Lupron. And how, may you ask that I know this without having stepped on a scale (because I refuse to do so)? Well, besides the obvious tighter fitting clothes and the ring on my finger feeling a little tighter … Well, my b**bies have gotten a little larger.

And I know I’ve gained a sufficient amount of weight when these tatas have “bloomed.” Because they’re the absolute last place that fills out when I gain weight. (And sadly, they’re always the first thing to go, when I lose the weight … dang-nabbit!) And even though I may be a little more heavier-set than the typical Asian American woman, I was never graced with a “hearty set.” So, when Naughty Hubby snapped a picture of them during a recent dress-uppity event … the rather revealing cleavage that stared back at me confirmed that I had, indeed, gained a significant amount of weight.

To make things worse, Hubby & I are heading out of town next Thursday for a mini-vaca … a chance to get away for a spell. We’re heading down to Orlando to spend time with Hubby’s cousins just to have some fun. Yes, we’ll be heading to Dis.neywor.ld and Univ.ersal Studios. No, I’m not so much bothered about it being the center of the universe for all things kid-related. (Actually, I’m quite looking forward to being a big kid for the weekend!)

Anyway, one of those days we’re planning on heading to the beach for the day. Which, of course requires a bathing suit. And well, last time I wore my two-piece was on our cruise in November. Pre-Lupron. Pre-weight gain. So yeah … won’t be looking so hot in my two-piece these days. And I wouldn’t look so hot in a one-piece either, based on the little non-pregnant belly I’ve got going on.

But thank G*d for the invention called the tankini. A two-piece that, if the appropriate tank top piece is found can hide that non-pregnant pudge I’ve got going on … and can still show off a little of the recently gained “assets.” (Might as well flaunt them while I’ve got them, right?) Pair it with a matching swim skirt, and it might just hide the “a$$”-et you don’t want to flaunt.

So off to Hudson’s Marshall Fields Macy*s to look for a tasteful and age-appropriate tankini. I head directly to the sportswear department, where I assumed that they might put out all the seasonal summer wear. No luck. Then I walk over to the active wear area, thinking that perhaps they put it with all the brand name exercise crap. Yep, still no luck. Finally, I stop an employee who directed me up to the second floor. “It’s right by the restaurant. Next to the maternity wear.”

Excuse me? Did I hear that right? Next to maternity wear? Who the H*LL had the brilliant idea to put bathing suits next to maternity clothes?! But sure enough, there they were. One and two-piece bathing suits looking quite smug next to those fashionable maternity clothes.

I’m honestly not sure what horrified me more. Knowing that I was going to have to try on bathing suits to help … ahem … appropriately distribute the extra weight I’ve gained. Or having to walk past all those very stylish maternity clothes that I know I will never have the chance to wear.

For an infertile … nonetheless one that has probably gained weight from all them extra hormones pumping through our systems … that is just cruel and unusual punishment!

Alas, I managed to find a decent tankini/swim skirt set that “accentuated the positive” (heartier hooters) and “eliminated the negative” (okay, so there was no way to completely eliminate the larger booty). And just as soon as the sales woman wrapped up my purchase, you know d*mn well I booked out of there as fast as I could.

Ugh … I suppose that I should know by now that bigger bosoms means that I should get off my lazy (not to mention large) a$$ and start working out again.

Once again … D*mn Lupron!!

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Oops. I forgot to add the disclaimer. Nope … that ain’t my body in that picture. (If I were only that thin …) And I also forgot to mention that yes … I realize how horrifying it must be for those that are pregnant to have to look at skinny two-piece suits.

But I do stand by what I said … “Who the H*LL had the brilliant idea to put bathing suits next to maternity clothes?!” and “That is just cruel and unusual punishment!”

Okay … back to your usual blog-surfing … ๐Ÿ™‚

Get The Puck Out!

Ohhhh yeah … The Detroit Red Wings are one more game away from winning the Stanley Cup!

Yes, Mrs. Spit … I know how upset this must make you. A non-Canadian team match-up for the title. But I must remind my friendly neighbors to the north, that Detroit has played a big part in the history of the National Hockey League. First of all, the Red Wings are one of the “Original Six” hockey teams still in existence from the first decade of the NHL. And second … anybody who knows hockey (and even quite a few that don’t) knows who Gordie Howe is. Yup. Mr. Hockey, No. 9 of the Detroit Red Wings. And finally, I do believe that Detroit is pretty much known league-wise as “Hockeytown.”

If you wanna know a really quirky fact concerning Detroit and Canada … Did you know that Detroit is the only U.S. city in which you have to drive south to cross the Canadian border? Yes … our friendly neighbor, Windsor, Ontario is the southern-most city in the great country of Canada, which makes many of those Cannucks that support our Red Wings have to drive north to catch one of our home games at “The Joe.”

And that, my dear blog friends, just might wanna make you scream, “Get the puck out!” Just like Hubby did multiple times tonite …