Wanted to write about my third MotoGP experience but needed to stop sweating first.

Now that I have dried off,  I have to say hats off to Ben Spies, as he snagged his first Moto GP pole, and held off Dani Pedrosa for a few laps before coming in second on the podium. I have looked for an American to back, not being a fan of either Hayden. And for some reason, I always think Texan Colin Edwards is British and forget all about him! Edwards is consistently great, but he just hasn’t fired me up. It feels like I have a better aquaintance with Spies, and have been watching him come up through the ranks for more than a few years. Anyway, it really was Ben Spies weekend and he is a thoughtful and technical rider who just keeps improving.

Besides Cooter throwing up all over the lobby of the Ole Spaghetti Factory on Meridian, we made it through the heat. Never, never  mix Dr. Pepper and chocolate milk with a 100 degree heat index!

 Vale still has my heart, and despite three crashes all weekend, he stayed up all race long (those of you who attended know how great that is given last year when he crashed out in the 5th lap!) and really the best moment of the race was when he got into fourth.  Counting the days til next year…!

Two days and about 6 hours away from the getting to see the best motorcycle racing on the entire planet!!!!!!! Heading to IMS for the MotoGp weekend extravaganza!!!!!

There is nothing like the sounds and the smells of these bikes doing 200mph. Nothing! And our last Midwestern chance to see Valentino Rossi, the star of the show, with a leg over a Fiat Yamaha. Next year, the Italian will be on the Italian bike, Ducati. Wonder how that neon yellow he is so famous for will go with Team Red?

He can, and will, win on any machine. And we will be counting the days til we get to head back and see for ourselves.

Can you hear that? The jubilant shouts of a zillion Italians are on the wind today, with the announcement that Valentino Rossi just signed a two year agreement with the Italian bike maker Ducati, effectively uniting two of Italy’s greatest exports ever!

I say finally. And he will prove, once again, that he can win on any machine! Coming back with a fourth and a podium in his first two races after his Mugello high-side actually proves that he is the only machine in the MotoGP equation that matters.

….with Mike Reno from Loverboy. Sure, it’s more like Loveroldman, but the band sounded great at State Fair the other night. And 4 girls from Tosa West were reunited for total hijinks.

I thought we were going to State Fair and would stand around and hear Loverboy in the background while eyeing up potential targets to terrorize, but no! Traci, Michelle and Jenni are diehard fans, and had third row center seats saved for myself and Kelley, the latecomers. Total riot, start to finish, culminating in Traci throwing a pair of panties onstage that she bought from a bin at a CVS pharmacy! Now that’s hot!

While waiting for Mr. Reno to finish his partysub, or donut tub, we ended up as background singers playing cowbell and tambourine for a band next door!

 The girls ended up kissing Mike Reno and getting autographs, and the roadies invited us to Oshkosh.  All in all, a typical night at the fair for these Tosa West Girls. Twenty-five years later, we have not changed a bit!

Since I am left to my own devices with this blog, I genuinely love this little space to brag about my one, my only, my Cooter.

We joined a club with an outdoor pool this summer and have been the happiest people in goggles since the day it opened. Cooter was a bit behind others his age on the swim lessons, since we had done a hundred other activities from dirtbiking to guitars, and this was the summer we needed to get ‘er done. He’s a total fish under water, but hadn’t mastered the crawl on top.

We’re spoiled, lucky suburbanites, with an awesome pool decked out with a lily pad rope crossing, a diving board and even a rock wall: all open to those who can pass the swim test. You have to swim a lap down and back and tread water for 30 seconds to wear that coveted blue wrist band. Most of July found Cooter endlessly eyeing up his friends who had earned that elusive blue band.

We practiced and practiced, and prodded and coached him on his crawl, but it looked hopeless for a while there in terms of treading water. Suddenly yesterday, he was smiling and treading water right in front of me and our fellow fish friends! He just got it, it clicked!!! Right at that moment, he declared, “I am taking the swim test now!”.

Sure I swam alongside, reminding him to keep kicking, sure I coached! But it was all him,  70 pounds of total 7 year old determination, every ounce of that little victory dictated by his own developing will. I was blown away.

And then he was off and running: never did the diving board, but was then off it a hundred times, doing moves into 12 feet of water. Attempted the rock wall, and in every way became exactly the guy he was aiming to be.  The magic of watching him literally change his life, right in front of my eyes… I will never get over these thrills.  Someday,when the chips are down, when the goal seems out of reach, I’ve got this new card to play. Reminding him that once upon a time, he set out to get a blue wrist band at a local pool, and he never gave up until he got it.

Did you have fun? I know I did. This summer I was the happiest kid in the candy store.  It was like coming back from the dead, both literally and spirtually!

I have blogged about the rollicking hormone trip I have been on this spring, trying to fix levels and achieve some balance after years of being out of whack. And to that end, I inadvertently met myself on the path! I was finally reaquainted with that wacky, positive and hopeful dreamer that is me. I had become depressed so gradually on the downward hormone/adrenal fatigue spiral that I was shocked to see myself again: the one who lives to laugh, the one who has a hundred friends and can make a hundred more in a weekend. The one who never says no to a party invite, and is first to arrive and last to leave. The one who loves her friends deeply, and tries, and often fails when it comes to judging–but deeply loyal.  In short, I was depressed, anxious, irritable, exhausted and most of all, out of smiles and out of hope. Besides my son, life had become smaller and smaller; I took no chances and believed the worst about everyone, especially me. I was out of trust, I could not see a way to another person, romantically. I had bottomed out in every possible way.

All this, and on the air. Amazes me!  Sometimes this was the best four hours of my day (the other hours were spent sleeping) besides pulling out every shred of energy to make sure my son was not only cared for, but exposed to so many different things. It’s been a long road.

So here’s to everyone at South Shore Yacht Club, and at McKinley Marina where I have been a frequent hanger-on all summer long. I have met the most interesting people at both! Five hours in the rain at Long Lake, torturing the locals with my oldest and dearest friend in Tomahawk. Poolside, parkside, fireworks, great concerts, cover bands, birthday parties, hilarious and scary first dates, and a million laughs with all my dearest. Even with a car accident totalling my car, I continue to be the luckiest girl on the planet, and I am glad to have me back!!

Many of you know I lead an exceptionally charmed life. Sure, I complain, because I am a dumb human. But stepping back to reflect as I often do, I see the big picture of a really wonderful life, filled with family and the greatest friends anyone could ever ask for.

And so it was, with my new BFF yesterday, the newly jobless Ken. He took a little hiatus from the marketplace to re-evaluate his life’s direction and is Mr. Mom for at least this summer. Imagine being fortunate enough to spend time with your 7 year old boy all summer long? Already they have mini-roadtripped, tripped their lake and lake house fantastic, and surely had those many lazy summer conversations about not all that much. In short, a dream for any parent.

And for me, this has always been my gig. This crazy, excellent, frustrating, hilarious, screaming match that I call a way to make a living has afforded me a semi-retired lifestyle all of my proferssional days. And I spent those days, and days, in the parks and pools that now make up my son’s first memories, barely missing a beat, and rollicking in every minute of it. It’s been like working and not working all at the same time.

Yesterday’s pool time naturally rolled into a barbque with my BFF’s wife, my other BFF. And we ate, drank and frisbee’d into the summer dusk. I am so happy to be me sometimes it’s crazy. And I can never really say this out loud which is why I put this in my blog for fear of bragadocia.

And speaking of things one should not say out loud: my BFF Ken, having been a Northshore Nancy for only a few months now may need some kind of intervention if this kinda talk continues. He tells me and his wife that he really thought it was a powerful moment when Hoda and Kathie Lee took their makeup off on their show last week! The hysterical gales of laughter are still drifting on the wind over Fox Point.

Last year at this time, I waxed patriotic about popsicles and parades, and of course, feel that way every year at this time. But this year, I will hoist my flag and raise my glass to my fellow Americans who are enduring the daily drug war along our giant, basically open border with Mexico.

In the interest of not being racists, which I have been all for, all of my born days, I think this country has gone off the charts insane in the Over-Correction Direction. The fact that US residents have to arm themselves in some of these border towns in order to just continue living their daily lives is abhorrent. To the Veterans of Foreign Wars that have lived and died in service to their country only to find that in 2010, American citizens are not even getting any help right on their own front porches must deeply insult them. The fact that our government is allowing Mexican drug cartels to muderously run amok over their land and their rights is disgusting and shameful.

Obama just said deporting 11 million is wrong, makes no sense, not even feasible. There has also been a wide disparity between the number of troops requested by our border towns and the number of troops actually being committed. In report after report, the futility, frustration and finally fear of our American families living near the border grows by the hour and they have absolutely been abandoned by their government. A crying shame.

…or on Day ONE of Summerfest 2010. Is it just me, or was it a total fashion black hole at the Big Gig yesterday?

I even took a picture and sent it to a friend. If Milaukee and surrounding does not get it together, we could end up having a PeopleofSummerfest.com ala PeopleofWalmart. But the sounds and smells, if not the sights, are always the same to me: I am 16 again walking through those gates, with 5 dollars in my pocket, and a captive audience to harass the rest of the night.

Enjoy the world from your corner of the picnic table and see you there!

The 6th Annual Fundraising ride for Special Agent Jay Balchunas leaves Hal’s Harley Davidson in New Berlin at 2pm this Saturday. Special Agent Balchunas was killed in the line of duty in November of 2004 when he was robbed at gunpoint and shot when they found out he was unarmed. Jay was a Milwaukee Police Officer before becoming a special agent for the State of Wisconsin as well as serving as a volunteer firefighter for the city of New Berlin.

All proceeds go to the COPS kids camp in East Troy. It’s a $25 dollar same registration fee for a beautiful ride through Western Waukesha county ending up at Kelley’s Bleachers for a great cause. Ride safe!