Rock Star on the RoadL Rand McNally’s Car Karaoke

I love being out of the city.  The flowers, the sea, the incessant barking of the dog of the people renting the house next door.  Sunshine, fresh air.  Picking the herbs I need to cook instead of spending $1.50 a bunch for them, using only a few tablespoons worth, and waiting until the rest gets moldy or dried out before tossing it out.

What I don’t like, is all the driving.

Aside from the fact that all the time I spend in the car is one of the primary reasons I end each summer flabbier and fatter than I began it, is the endless tedium of sitting in the car. How many times do I need to hear that the Black Eyed Peas think “tonights gonna be a good night”?  Or that Cobie Caillat is so in love that it’s wrinkling her nose?  I’m wrinkling mine, too, honey, in disgust at the amount of gas I’m using and time I’m spending SITTING SITTING SITTING. (Does pushing the gas pedal burn calories?  I hope so.)

Notice I haven’t mentioned the kids?  Generally speaking, the bickering begins just as we reach the end of the driveway.  Lovely.

Imagine, then, how happy I was to get a distraction in the mail: Rand McNally’s Car Karaoke, part of their Boredom Breakers ™ series of car games for families. (Full disclosure:  they sent it to me for free.  Asked me to review it, but IN NOW WAY direct what I am going to say)

Rand McNally, the 100 + year old travel company mostly known for maps, just introduced a whole series of  games and activities to keep kids entertained and families connected in the car.  Since we don’t have a DVD players in the car (I know, I’m the last holdout) and my kids get sick when they read in the car or even play their DS, The Boredom Breakers™ games are perfect.  According to Rand McNally “The products are designed to bring families together, encouraging conversation, laughter and fun making the miles fly by for moms and kids on the go.”

They sent me Car Karaoke.  Here’s how they describe it: “Mom can sing lead and kids are back-up vocals.  Just pop in the CD with 12 classic rock, pop, and kid favorite songs.  Includes everything needed to be a rockstar: an inflatable microphone, rating cards, and three lyric books.  Choose from favorites like “Build Me Up Buttercup” or “Twist and Shout,” to see who’s got the pipes in the family.  Earplugs not included!”

Here’s how I describe it: hysterical.  My kids LOVE the blow up microphone.  So much better than a hairbrush.  Quite honestly, they don’t know a lot o f the songs on the CD, and don’t really want to sing the kid songs they do, but they use the mike for songs on other CD’s or on the radio (there’s a lot of wrinkling noses in the car) – and are surprisingly kind with the rating cards!  The only suggestion I would make it to include two mikes in the kit — one for each kid.

The quality of the singing on the CD is pretty varied — from quite good to bordering on torture — but you can choose to sing without the singers (like real Karaoke) and in any case, they sound better than you or your kids. (or at least me or mine!)

Truly, they could have just sent the inflatable microphone and the ratings card and it would have been just as good.

Still, it has helped to end the tedium enormously.  And from what they tell me, their other games help spark conversation.  Which, since they are trapped in the car with me, is perhaps the best time to get their attention and get them to talk.

Bottom Line: If you are heading out for a long drive this Labor Day Weekend.  Give these games a shot.  They’re not expensive (under $15,.00 for the Karaoke (why not Car-aoke?? I don’t know!), and they really might make being trapped on the road a lot more fun.

Rand McNally’s Boredom Breakers series of car games are on sale at Amazon.com and RandMcNally.com

My New Favorite Swimsuit Company

I’ve written quite a bit about Karla Colletto – the fabulously expensive and fabulously flattering swimsuit that actually managed to make me feel less than disgusting on the beach last summer.   But notice that first “fabulously?”  The expense of a KC bathing suit is a bit daunting — upwards of $200 dollars to start.

So here I am with a new recommendation:  Shape FX. It is QUITE unlike me to buy a bathing suit online — I need to try on, try on, try on.  Check out the strategic qualities of it’s camoflage abilities:  does my stomach look enormous?  Does the skin above the leg line bulge?  Is my back fat under control?  But after reading about Shape FX in Rachel Ray’s magazine (my guilty pleasure – hey, if I can’t eat fish cooked with a pound of butter and a cup of cream at least I can read about it) I decided to take a chance.

See Shape FX is all about strategic dressing.  You take a little questionnaire online about your body, then they recommend clothing just for you.  I took the quiz, bought the bathing suit and all I can say is:

OMG.

Quite possibly, the most flattering bathing suit EVER.  And way way less expensive than Karla.

So there you have it.  My new (budget friendly) alternative to my first love, Karla Colletto.  I plan to try their push up, control pants too.  I’ll let you know how it goes.

What Happened to the Girl I (Was When I Got) Married?

I’ve just had one of those days.  You know — when you drop your kids off at camp (or school or whatever) and suddenly, it’s 3:00, and you haven’t had lunch, and you never made it to the market, and you didn’t deal with your serious dark root s situation AGAIN – but it’s already time to pick up the kids?  One of those days.

It made me think about a book I’m been reading: “What Happened to the Girl I Married” by Michael Miller.  Which is good, because I’m reading it as part of the Silicon Valley Moms Group book club. (I write for NYC Moms blog, which is part of the SV Group.  Confused yet?)

Anyway, the book is about a guy (Miller) who spends a year “in his wife’s shoes at home.” (wonder if she wears Blahniks!), as a way to discover what happened to the girl…well, you get the drift.

I know what happened to her.  She lost herself on the way to the dry cleaners and the pediatricians, and the exterminator, and the optometrist, and and and and and.

How does that happen?  How does the day get away from you so fast?  Miller thought his wife was just inefficient. Ha! He learned the hard way what a hard way of living being a full time stay at home Mom can be.

Miller really does give it his all — He tackles the laundry, the cooking, the cleaning. But for all of his realizations — some of which, I admit, are validating and worthwhile to read (I especially liked his idea of SAHMs living life in fragments)– the book is really about him.  His journey.  His conquering it all.  His realization and transformation from corporate egomaniac or domesticated, sympathetic uber-husband and father.

All I could think of while I was reading it was — where is the girl he marred in all of this?  What was she doing while he took over her life to learn how to respect what she does?  Why don’t we hear from her?

I know why.  It’s a man’s world.  Even in a book written to help men understand what their wives go through each day.Even in a book that advises men to acknowledge and praise their wives.(And Michael, I do acknowledge and praise you for doing this.)  Because, what he doesn’t say is: encourage your wife to be herself.  Encourage your wife to follow her own dreams while you hold down the fort.

In the end – he’s just making life more palatable for women (not to mention himself — there’s a lot about getting enough sex)…as long as they’re still at home waiting for him when he gets back from wherever he’s been all day. I don’t mean to say that he hasn’t genuinely changed the way he perceives, appreciates, and communicates with his wife.  He has.  But it’s still a book about men.  About husbands appeasing wives, understanding wives — as if “wife” were some state of being universal to women.

On days like today, I’d love for my husband to read this book – lacking though I found it. Because at least this guy made the attempt.  I’d rather he universalized, instead of personalized the whole thing. I wish he didn’t repeat himself quite so much. (yes, I know.  Your father was a produce man)  but still — he tried.  Which is more than I can say for a lot of husbands I know. (not mine.  of course.  never mine.)

But honsetly, what I really need is a book about how to clean the house, make the beds, do the shopping, wipe the tears, arrange the flowers, prepare the meal, do the dishes, fold the laundry, “do” the husband, and still have time to hang out and be myself.  That book, I’d love. I But until it comes out, I’ll still be searching.

Pixorial: Home Movies Finally Find a Home

I don’t pretend to be an expert on what services are out there to help you turn your poorly shot, shaky, dark, over-long or “I forgot to turn the camera off while I walk around”  home videos into DVD’s you might want to watch, but I do know that the people at Pixorial have a service that’s doing the trick for me.

Here’s what they do: you send them  your old movies(via upload if they’re already in digital format,  or through the mail – in a box they provide), they convert them to an editable format, download them to their site (for your eyes only, of course) and then provide an easy, albeit basic, editing system to turn those movies into sharable, sendable, watchable “Shows.”

The service is free for 10 Gigabytes (like I know what that means!)of uploads and low-res little thumbnails, or about $25 a year for the high-res, limitless uploads, endless storage Pro membership. (and here it’s time for full disclosure: the kind folks at Pixorial set me up with a credit towards the service, and a free pro-membership.)

First of all – these people are nice.  Helpful.  Enthusiastic.  I like that in a company.  You can actually contact a HUMAN BEING at this place. Hallalujah.  And while Pixorial’s editing system is pretty basic: fades, dissolves, titles – you know the drill, it’s about enough for your average home movie-taker.  And the truth is, if you don’t use Pixorial - or something like it – my bet is, you won’t watch your videos at all.  Or if you do, and you’re anything like me, you’ll get a headache from all the shaky bits. (and no, for this one post, I am NOT referring to my thighs.)

Look, I spent nearly 20 years as a television producer, which means that when it comes to editing I’m kinda like Captain Kirk: I know what I want, I know how to tell other people to do it, but I don’t actually know how to do anything myself.  With Pixorial, I don’t have to know much.  It works similarly to most word processing software — drag ‘n drop, my friends, drag  ‘n drop.

Seduced by the Nintendo DSi

It’s been a long courtship.  I didn’t want to give in.  I have my principles.  I have my standards.  I know what’s right and wrong.  I admit, I’ve been weak.  I’ve let myself been taken in by the Wii and Wii Fit. I’ve gotten involved with Wii Music. But until now, I haven’t gone all the way.   I’ve left that Nintendo DS Lite you sent me on the shelf.  Because I do have principles.  And letting my kids sit, immobile, but for their thumbs, staring at a little tiny screen — well, that just violates my very sense of proper mothering.  I’ve been the responsible grown up. I have not yet let my kids play with a handheld gaming device.

But Friday, I finally gave in to the persistent, gift laden seduction of Nintendo.  Because yesterday, I got the new Nintendo DSi.

I feel a little bit dirty – like I’m taking a bite out of the forbidden fruit.  But I have to say: I like it.

Because the new Nintendo DSi, due out today(yes, I am that important: I already got mine – EARLY!) really is different. Nintendo has made the handheld interactive.(I’m assuming that’s what the ” i”  in DSi is for)  The DSi still plays all the same DS games as the older version,  (and some new ones, too) but it also takes pictures, plays music, and connects to the internet.

I have to admit, mostly I’m not interested in handheld games because I suck at them.  It makes me feel old.  Like I’m not young enough to get my head around what my kids seem to understand instinctively.  Kind of like my Mom and programming a VCR.  But this stuff?  This is fun. Because the DSi doesn’t just take pictures, it lets you play around with them.  I can add a funny nose and mustache.  I can stick my head on someone else’s body. (And you know how I wish I had someone else’s — anyone else’s — body.) This is fun.  And I can’t really suck at it. No performance anxiety.  I like that in a handheld.

Music is another new part of the DSi. In addition to playing music, this thing lets me record my own voice, and add it to the music.  Or change the music by adding cymbals, or drums.  I can  change the pitch or what I record.  Speed it up, slow it down.  It’s kind of like Wii music — only smaller.

Playing with pictures.  Messing around with music.  That, I get.  And since it’s so brand-spanking new, and I already have one (thank you Nintendo) I feel like I’m on the cutting edge.  Nintendo, you’ve made me feel young and hip!!! Who knew an electronics company would be the fountain of youth!

So I’ve given in.  I’ve gone all the way  — into handheld electronic territory. How could I resist?  The thing even has multiple screens? (well, two. But at forty +, two counts as multiple to me!)

As for the kids?  Well, they’ll have to wait awhile.  I want to enjoy my new vice all alone for awhile.  After all, once the kids get a hold of it, they’ll figure out way more about it, and way faster than I could — and that’ll, like, totally kill my buzz.  So I’ll enjoy awhile in secret.  Just my DSi and I – alone, at night, after the kids are gone.  Sounds good to me.  And then after a while,  the kids can have it….maybe.

Why I Love Skype!

I am LOVING Skype.  Read why, here. On my latest NYC Moms Blog post.

Longboat Key: The Secret to Staying (relatively) Young

The kids love the calm water

If you’re from the Northeast -and maybe even if you’re not – going to Florida means one of two things: going to the ultra-hip, cool, and trendy South Beach, or going to see your Grandparents.

Of course Grandparents-in-Florida means a lot of things:

• - polyester pants -
• canasta by the pool -
• early bird specials -
• really really bad driving
• women sneaking rolls into their purses at the diner
• constant discussions over the price of a can of Tuna Fish
• constant monitoring of every single piece of food you put in your mouth because your grandmother is obsessed with being thin and you’re not. Thin, that is.

Oh, wait. Was that last one just me?

Time Travel: Ute Lemper at the Cafe Carlyle

© franjanik.com

Last night I went to the super swanky (and super expensive – I was comped) Cafe Carlyle on Madison Avenue in New York City to see Ute Lemper perform her astoundingly good Cabaret act.

Now, you might be thinking: Taking a cab across town hardly counts as travel.

Well, let me tell you, I’ve traveled plenty; I’ve been on an archeological dig in the Middle East, and trekking in the Costa Rican rainforest. I’ve been mugged in Buenos Aires, and been sailing in Turkey. I’ve lounged on Caribbean beaches and been a lounge singer in Parisian cafes. (oh, yes, I have many secrets!), and this little taxi ride across town took me farther away than any of those. Because to go to the Cafe Carlyle is to travel through time.

First there’s the Carlyle itself: swanky doesn’t begin to describe it. The furnishings are luxurious, the walls are painted with spectacular (and spectacularly restored) murals. The rooms have marble baths, the hallways are wallpapered in luxe ultra-suede, the chandeliers of Venetian glass. In the Cafe, men must wear jackets, and women — well, they must look fabulous.

The Hotel drips with sophistication borne of tradition, and taste, and history. (Full disclosure: the original family owners of The Carlyle are family friends.) I imagine that The Carlyle always feels other-worldly: the $26 cocktails, the tuxedo-ed clientele. But in the current financial crisis, it felt positively surreal. Women in evening gown sipped champagne as they laughed at something their impossibly dashing date had said. Waiters called everyone sir and madam. The murmur of money was in the air.

Then there was Ute Lemper. She looks like a 1940’s movie star: all angles and eyebrows and red, red lips. And she sings the songs of 1920’s Germany, making the whole evening feel, look and sound as decadent as it must have nearly a century ago. In her black bowler hat she channeled Marlene Dietrich, singing her heart out, and breaking mine. (And just so you know, her new album is coming out sometime this Spring.)

Ute's new album: She wrote the Whole Thing!! photo: © franjanik.com

Because there is something bittersweet about the end of decadance; of course it was wrong. Greed is what fueled this crisis. And look what happened to Germany once the decadence was done.

But still – to be in the room, watching Ute Lemper in her sequined gown, hearing her delve deeply into songs that are as relevant today as they were all those decades ago — it was romantic, and beautiful, and moving, and transportive.

I may have only taken a taxi ride – but I traveled through time, across an ocean, to a place where glamour lives, champagne flows, and sequins sparkle for all they’re worth.

Virgin America: The Best Airline EVER

Virgin America is, quite simply, the best airline I have ever flown. Clearly, the people at Virgin Airways do not know that in order to be an airline, you must be rude, inefficient, overcrowded, and have an aesthetic sensibility from 1972.
No – these people greeted me at Kennedy Airport with a smile….and not from behind a desk. The staff member walked over, helped me with my bag and shook my hand.
Then he pointed out the exact location of the gate, and sent me on my way with a “have a good trip” that sounded like he really meant it. It was like entering a parallel universe!
Then there was the plane itself.  No 70’s era synthetic semi=plaid fabric seats and fluorescent lights.  This plane was cool looking. Pink neon lights, a slick all-white walls, hip music, and leather seats – each with a touchscreen of it’s own that has tv, movies (for purchase), and even video games that you can play with the handy-dandy control  built into your armrest, but which comes out to be a remote control or game controller.
Even the safety announcement (and accompanying animated short) was cool: “for the .00001% of you who have never put on a seatbelt….”
When they needed us to buckle up, guess what they said? “Please sit down and buckle your seatbelts.” I don’t think I realized until that moment just how ridiculous the usual “the captain has illuminated the seatbelt sign. Please return to your seats and ensure that your seatbelts are securely fastened” line really is.  It’s some weird airline-speak.  Why do the airlines think they need to say things like “please put your tray tables in their upright and locked positions”?  There’s something vaguely demeaning about plane-speak — as if we can’t quite fathom the complexities of air travel without their special code. Virgin just says “Tray tables up please, we’re getting ready to land.” English, not plane-speak.  Hallelujah!
And their food service? Please, let the gods of airline travel heed the call: you order your food on the touchscreen, (I had a lovely mini-sandwich combo on artisinal bread) and a flight attendant just hands it to you. No cumbersome cart to hit you in the elbow as it rolls on by.
Pleasant and flying are not two words one utters too often in the days of three dollar charges for a bag of four almonds – but Virgin America – I was pleasantly surprised…no shocked…at how truly pleasant flying with you was.

That may have been my “very first time” but it sure isn’t going to be my last.

Wii Have Found a Game Wii Can Play!

You know the kid who was always picked last for teams in gym class?  Or at least last of the not-totally-loser kids?  Did you ever wonder what happened to that kid?

Did she grow up to be a world-class athlete?  Did she channel her athletic frustrations into intellectual pursuits and become a famous professor, writer, world leader or software developer?  Or, did she never manage to get over  the frustration of being a bad athlete and turn into a serial killer, a sadistic torturer of small animals, the kind of woman who insists on asking every man she dates “Do I look like I’ve gained a few?  No really.  Do I?” 

I’ll tell you what happened to her.  She became the kind of person who still sucks at sports.  Even the electronic ones.  She understands the angst of the woman told by her Wii Fit that she’s fat.  She knows the pain of missing out on perhaps the biggest electronic fad of our time, The Wii, simply because she still, to this day, cannot hit even a virtual ball.

She is me.  I am she.  Let the gods of hand-eye coordination spite me down and make me do pushups while I’m there.