Entertainment – Page 16 – Britt Skrabanek

Oktober Silliness

Back at the end of July, I had a convo with my blogger pal Juliann from Browsing the Atlas when she posted Weekly Photo Challenge: Masterpiece and covered the exquisiteness of Beijing roofs.

Juliann has a thing for choosing one focus for her photography as she globe trots, and I thought this was a rad idea.

Then, I remembered the time I did the same and focused on one pivotal representation of my surroundings.

The majesty, the colors, the architecture of….Lederhosen.

Some years ago, Mr H, my awesome sis-and-law and her hubby, and myself traveled to Fredericksburg, Texas (kind of the middle of nowhere) for Oktoberfest.

We always wanted to go to Munich for the real deal, but right in our Dallas backyard – not really, since everything in Texas is monumentally spaced out – was our very own Tex-German shindig.

Cute old couple alert! It’s a little blurry, but he danced with his hand square on her ass the whole time. That’s love, right there.

Umm…there’s a beer on your head.

I wasn’t expecting a lot, but it was pretty damn fun! A little too much fun, perhaps. We blame the beer for “sultry”, gender-bending moments like this…

That cold, frothy elixir turned the four of us into a team of misfits with one obsession…besides where to get our next beer.

We dared each other to get the best shots of Lederhosen, creeping up on unsuspecting, costumed dudes and snatching the best pic. Mind you, this was before phone cameras were any good.

It was risqué. It was silly. It was awesome.

First we have a distance shot of our unsuspecting Lederhosen subjects, Herr Rot and Herr Weiss…

A little closer…

Then, the money shot…

Guess they weren’t meant to live happily ever after. Herr Naked Legs stole Herr Rot away…

In the end, Herr Gelb stole the show with his manly stance and edgy variety…

Hey, I warned you that this was Oktober silliness, nothing more. Hopefully you had some laughs. If not, please drink a big ass beer then read this again.

Find your own Oktoberfest (here are a few big ones in the U.S.) and marvel at some Lederhosen. You’ll love it.

Any silly Oktoberfest stories out there?

There’s a shelter when I get home.

Lindsey, a very amazing friend of mine (hey, sweet love), shared this fantastic video on Facebook today. And I almost didn’t watch it, because I was scanning my feed after a long day at work, my eyes half-open, my brain half-fried.

But, she said something that made me change my mind: “If you do nothing else today, watch this.”

Although this came out in 2010, I had never heard of Storycorps’ “Danny and Annie” before. I have to say that Lindsey was spot on, and as those close to our hearts always seem to know, I needed to watch this today.

I don’t usually have bad days. I consider myself a joyful person the majority of the time.

Today was different. I was kind of in a funk, consumed by self-doubt, pesky worries, and just plain disheartened after a long week of grinding and juggling.

Yet at the end of the day…there’s love. Right there. Love.

I think all of us, from every speck on the map, can agree that love is this immaculate tint that covers our worlds, that turns life into a masterpiece, one radiating with color and soul.

This beautiful cartoon changed everything for me today.

There’s always a shelter when I get home. I am grateful for my husband and I can’t wait for him to hold me when he walks in that front door.

Mr. H, I write you epic love letters in my head every day. And I will continue to do so for the rest of our lives.

Press play.

A Coach’s Lesson, in 6 Words

Happy Wednesday, fantastic friends! Just wanted to reblog this fun/inspirational piece from Eli over at Coach Daddy. He masterfully coordinates these “6 Words” posts, bringing peeps from all over together to dish out 6 words about various subjects. Along with yours truly, 50 other bloggers, readers, and strangers dished out 6 words based on the prompt “What’s one thing you learned from a coach?” Being that I grew up dancing, I added these six amazing words from one of my ballet teachers…24. “Forget everything, be true, just move.” Be sure to check out the rest of these one-liners for some mid-week warm fuzzies (and some good laughs) over at Eli’s place.

Just a dad ...

You can learn a lot from a coach.

Not all of it’s good. I remember a frustrated soccer coach who slammed his notebook to the turf after our team scored, then barked out the F word. Hayden, then playing U8 soccer, turned to me, mouth open slightly, and blinked several times.

I swear a light bulb illuminated above her head.

Thanks, coach.
Many other lessons are far less R-rated. Well, some.

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The Grit and Grace of Montreal

old port of montreal — Mr. H at Old Port of Montreal

If Brooklyn and Paris mated, their love child would be Montreal.

Grit and grace. Hard asses and romantics. The ones that won’t look you in the eye and the others who stare right at your ass.

This paradoxical city is emphasized further by its language tug-of-war. French is everywhere: the parking signs, the menus, the spoken greetings.

Yet, a sorry attempt at some high school French by an American tourist (yours truly) flips the switch. Seamlessly, as if “Bonjour” were never stumbled over, the conversation morphs into English with a peculiar flourish.

Walking down the street is a puzzling treat as English and French interlace. A couple at a table next to us bounces back and forth – a French question, an English answer, then one, then just the other – like a nail-biting tennis match for the ears.

Taking a road trip will only confuse the American more. Living in the U.S means conquering an ocean to hear that steady foreign hum.

Although Ontario looks a lot like Wisconsin, there are doors like these in the rest areas…

Eventually, there’s no more English. None. Our foreign experience creeps up on us in the form of construction signs and unpronounceable roads.

Where the hell are we? North America? Canada?

No…Montreal, Quebec.

Each languid day is strange – no schedule, no obligations. And, Mr. H. and I wander around this land without time.

One of the deepest ways to connect with someone means surviving together in a place where nothing makes sense, somewhere that is the antithesis of home, routine, and grind.

Travel makes the heart open to possibilities. And, so we opened ours to Montreal and did all of this…

And, we got down at Piknic Electronik at sunset on an island. Yeah, it was cool…

But, what about the food, Britt? Montreal is one of the foodie capitals of the world, isn’t it?

Indeed, it is. So, food gets it’s very own post next week. Get ready to drool.

That Aha Connection

Sometimes I have these surreal interruptions – “Aha” moments, if you will.

Like a group of determined children, they tap my shoulder, tug at my clothes, or even grab my face to win my erratic attention.

Hey, lady! STOP.

So, I do…and it changes me.

Those running in my social media circle heard about the recent death of my Kindle. She was a trusty companion – knowledgeable, entertaining, and just an overall good soul. Until Hazel the cat rubbed her out, knocking her off the highest ledge in our apartment.

Alas, the Kindle was no more.

Being that I don’t possess the financial superpowers to replace my beloved Kindle currently, I took a field trip to the library. My first time in over a year. (Free books….yay!)

Blogger gal pal Gabriela Blandy at The Sense of a Journey, pointed me in the direction of Raymond Carver, spartan wordsmith extraordinaire.

Always the literature mutt, I decided to give him a whirl.

Whilst pouring over “What We Talk About When We Talk About Love“, I came to a dog-eared page from somebody who had checked out the book before me.

And, I stopped.

Another person had left their mark, a folded corner for me to find. Why did they stop reading just then?

Did they set their alarm, turn off the light, and go to bed? Did they sigh and head into the kitchen to wash the dishes? Did they stuff the book in their bag and board a plane?

From that point…we were connected. The dog-ear was my “Aha”.

Just like the time my change was shoved into my hand at a drive-thru. At a stoplight, I looked down at my palm and noticed Washington’s smirk was littered with poetry in red ink.

Aha.

Just like the time I had this indescribable urge to name one of my characters Sal. Months later I looked down at the right corner of my desk and noticed this carving was there the whole time…

Aha.

We zip through our lives half the time, don’t we? Eat, sleep, work, play. Repeat.

But when it all comes down to it, we are connected in so many ways. And, it’s absolutely magnificent when we stop and breathe it in.

We live side by side – none of us are really that different. Sometimes we need the “Aha” to make us pause, to see how damn incredible this thing called life is.