Category: entertainment

Family Sleuthing Skills

Escape rooms. I did one as a team building activity one year with our campus leadership team. We had a great time, but it’s the only one I’ve done.

I purchased one for the hubster’s birthday. Rather than giving material gifts, we’ve started gifting outings. This would be a first for everyone else. I made the reservation and consulted my 22 year old about which one to choose. The level of difficulty ranged from 7-10 with different themes.

“Choose a 7, we want to be able to get out and make Dad think he got us out of there.”

Based on availability, I went with Lost Cities, an iteration of Raiders of the Lost Ark. We’re mostly intelligent and should be able to bust out, but together, we’re kinda dumb. Way too much bickering. No one ever listens to me anyway, so in this setting, I kept my mouth shut. None of us tried working together. I kept reminding everyone the point of this thing is working together and helping one another.

E kept hitting the button for hints. S was trying to figure things out, which was great, but inside the temple with a face staring at us, non-glowing eyes inactive because we couldn’t figure out the code, the kids transformed into 7 year old S and 13 year old E. They butted heads with sibling rivalry right in the middle, cramming them together. Bam! Bam! Bam!

I thought they’d outgrown it, but it still manages to sneak in.

I wanted to take everything in and work the clues to unlock the codes. The time crunch adds urgency. Divide and conquer doesn’t work well in this setting. We weren’t cleaning the kitchen after dinner, we needed to solve some puzzles.

With seconds to spare, we entered the last code and the door opened.

“We escaped!” exclaimed hubster.

“Dad, they practically gave us all the answers,” E reminded him.

“Yeah, I muttered, no thanks to you asking for clues every two minutes. Didn’t even give us a chance to think.”

It was a good time despite the bickering. We didn’t break the code of conduct and our language stayed clean. S and E went back to their teen and young adult selves, and sibling rivalry stayed behind to wait for the next contestants. We took our photo and parting goods–a printed wristband printed with We Escaped Lost Cities!–and continued with our weekend.

We’re not ready for a level 10.

March 26, 2025

#Milestones: That First #Concert

My soon to be #sweetsixteener hit me up for a #birthday gift. Three months ahead of time. Important items of discussion typically happen at the #lastpossibleminute, but here we are. On the bright side, her skills are improving-ish? Not only does she ask me three months and a week in advance, she does so during my afternoon walk. Via #text. Can Novio Boy tag along? Oh, and it’s in San Antonio. #minordetails

The door hasn’t even shut behind me when I walk in and she #hollers “Ma-a-a-h-m…did you get my message?” She emerges at the top of the stairs. Then she hops down. Must be important.

“Okay, #hearmeout…”

I stop and let her flow.

“…there’s this concert, you’ll hate the music, but maybe not?”

My questions addressing all of the things she hasn’t considered, never mind she described it as a midwestern emo band (what is that?), are rising to the top and bubbling. I have to turn down the heat so they don’t spill over.

Tickets are cheap. #redflag. They’ll hit you with #fees. It’s at 9:00 in the morning. #weird and #anotherreadflag. Can Novio Boy come along? #redflagandsirens. It’s at a place called Paper Tiger.

I look it up. It looks like a #divebar #ohhellno

I don’t say yes. I don’t say no. #researchmode. I can’t find it on the ticket apps I use.

“But I got the link to buy tickets on #spotify!” her two-year-old self peeks out for a few seconds before she stuffs her back deep inside.

“Hold on, I’m looking.” Dallas, Houston, L.A. …”Oh, I see, there’s the fine print, TBA, so even if it says 9:00 a.m, they may still be in the planning stages. Listen. This isn’t a big venue. If it was at the Alamodome, it would be different. I have to check out this Paper Tiger place. It sounds like a bar near St. Mary’s campus. If it’s a bar, you have to be over 21 to get in.”

“But how is it that I can buy a ticket if…”

“The same way you opened up your Instagram and Snapchat accounts that you aren’t supposed to have. Guaranteed, if it’s a bar, they’ll check your ID to get in.”

“But even if I have tickets?”

“Chica, you first have to be 21. Give me time to check it out. Have you looked at the venue?”

“What’s that?”

#sigh

It appears minors must be accompanied by an adult. There is a bar #yayme It’s small and frequently hosts live bands. Reviews are positive. I know nothing about the band. #lighbulbmoment

My #livemusicguru friend! I send her a message asking about the venue. Yes, she has been there and enjoyed it. Yes, it’s safe for teens, but it’s best to go with her. There are restaurants and other bars within walking distance.

“Can I pay you to take her?”

“Lol! If it’s a band I like I’ll go with you.”

It’s still a little early and I’m not ready to purchase tickets. There may be a music festival going on which explains the 9:00 a.m. show. I feel #awkward tagging along, but I also don’t want to leave her there without being on the premises. I promise I’ll hide in the back somewhere.

Why is it that an adult can take their kids to most places, but if teens take parents, are they #weirdos or do they have #coolparents?

If we do go, what in the world do I #wear?

March 13, 2025

The Real Thing: U2@Sphere-Las Vegas

Well my heart is where it's always been
my head is somewhere in between...

My body and brain are ready to take on customer service reps. I send a message to confirm availability for a Saturday pick up from the airport. Step one, done. I check concert ticket availability. I call the airline and it’s an easy switch. I’m leaving too early on Saturday, but I can nap on the way home.

I check several ticket apps, steering clear of the one I used. Final step: acquire a concert ticket. Finding one seat, I make the purchase. At this point, I’ve already lost money. You’re in Vegas, I tell myself through gritted teeth, keep at it. You’ll hit the jackpot soon enough.

Check email. Accept the ticket. Hold my breath…

There it is, the part that was missing from the last fiasco. Immediately directed to my ticket app, I follow the link to open the app and tap. There’s my ticket. I now have the option to add it to my phone’s wallet. I take the option so I’m not searching through a barrage of emails. I re-open the ticket app to make sure it’s there.

Yes.

I re-open my phone’s wallet to make sure it’s there too.

Affirmative.

One more try. I’ll be going alone this time and I’ll have to take an Uber, but I’m all set. I’ve never used Uber. I’ll download the app later.

Today, we’re having a late breakfast, hanging out at my uncle’s place, roaming around the art district, and checking out The Neon Museum. Tomorrow I’m going to the concert of my life. Alone. And I. Don’t. Care.

Friday morning I sleep in. My phone’s calendar reminds me of the flight I canceled. Today, I’m relaxing at my uncle’s place. I was supposed to leave today, so he went back to work. I have the place to myself and binge watch a Netflix reality show.

I’m taking an Uber to the concert. Send someone to look for me if you don’t hear back from me. You’ve heard of those crazy stories. I don’t want someone to throw me in the trunk, murder me and dump me in the desert, I message my sisters.

Don’t get in the car if you feel unsafe. You have gut feelings for a reason, they blip in return.

What do I do if there’s a glitch with the Uber? I can not have another glitch! I’ve scheduled my ride to pick me up at 6:30. Doors open at 6:00 and the concert starts at 8:30. My muscles twist themselves into tighter knots. Calm down, it’s fine. I decide to take an afternoon walk to get my mind off all of the scenarios that will prevent me from entering the mother ship once again.

I get a notification my driver has arrived. Her name is Jackie. Make eye contact and talk so you’re less likely to get murdered. I tell my brain to shut up. I enter her car and I’m greeted with a mini night sky of tiny LED lights changing from neon pink, to purple, to blue, to green, to yellow, and pink again. Whoopsies. I feel bad for thinking she’d hurt me.

Back at the orb rising out of the desert, I follow the crowd. Stopping for a selfie, I make my way up the stairs. I enter the building and get to the portal. This time, my ticket is in a different section; I don’t need escalators. My heart wants to jump out of my body. I can relax once I’m inside. Bono’s voice fills the room. The glow transports me out of this place.

Give me one more chance
and you'll be satisfied

I’m here early so there is no need to make small talk with people stuck in line. I enter the bag check point. I advance to a person with a scanner as I hold out my phone, barcode ready. 

Give me two more chances
you won't be denied...

Scan.

“Enjoy the show.”

Sixteen year old giddy me wants to SCREAM! I get in line for merch and buy an overpriced hoodie. I enter my section and gasp. Is this real? I’m sitting HERE? I’m on row 25. Not far from the stage. My non-tickets were on the back end of the highest section.

The DJ starts the pre-concert music and the crowd in the pit begins to gather. I dance at my seat and ping my sisters. I made it! You should be here with me… I dance through the rest of the show. This concert as at this venue is like the Grand Canyon. You see pictures and video, but you have no idea how the experience moves you until you see it in person.

Even better than the real thing, yeah…