excuse me while i kiss this guy

with a little help from my friend tracy, 

we now know 

what joe was really singing about at woodstock.

happy 40th anniversary, woodstock!

click here for the long lost translation.

Mrs. O Runnin the Show

In a funny NY Times interview:

on the President and her wardrobe--

"He's always asking, 'Is that new? I haven't seen that before.'

It's like, Why don't you mind your own business?

Solve world hunger. Get out of my closet."

Rain Rain Go Away

A little more tutu

a little less rain, please.

Photos courtesy tutu monkey

and visit here for more beautiful images by Dana

as long as we're talking about ireland

i looked at some irish design blogs, to see

what's up in the emerald isle.

after all, these are my people.

i thought, hey, maybe i'll find

beautiful ideas to stir my very soul.

what i found was...odd, unsettling,

puzzling. just off somehow.

like maybe some drinking was involved.

maybe not involved during the design, but

maybe before and after.

just enough to

create a little undercurrent of...screwy.

well, you tell me.

here, for example. am i going to put my coffee on this giant egg thingee?

and why is it black? does that mean something?

that lamp, against that wall, looks sorta like the apartment in

one day at a time.

are the irish anti-rug?

why a tiny picture, in that spot, with a light over it,

next to another lamp? just sayin.

oh, here's where all the color went.

well, green anyhoo.

what are those birds doing?

is this a closet?

is this a hall?

at first i thought it was a bathroom.

maybe a closet used as a bathroom.

again with the non-color.

this whole thing suggests a puppet show.

with beige puppets.

and why the stick horse majiggy?

here's where the irish relatives hang out

who aren't speaking to each other.

conversation not encouraged.

if the seating arrangement doesn't cut down

on the chit chat, the lighting will.

wait, is that a rug? yes, from the beige collection.

looks like several people are expected

for dinner. then dancing, apparently.

two things missing from the bathroom:

a toilet, and one of those big black egg deals to

go with the square ones.

may have been alcohol consumed

when the vertical blind idea was conceived.

the aftermath of knot tying class.

the person who uses this bed

is very very tall, judging from the position of the reading lamp.

the same very very tall person eats here.

the art is puzzling.

is that a square nosed dog?

if so, why?

where to begin.

the rubber rug?

the missing nightstand?

the missing color?

ok, the bed.

wtf.

do not hang your pants on the bedpost.

in fact, don't come near the bedpost.

never buy a bed unless it's been declawed.

everyone knows that.

so... what have we learned today?

Return From Bohemia (about my blog title)

Does my blog title baffle you?

(or do you not really care?)

It's a play on the title of a self-portrait

by Grant Wood, one of my favorite artists.

Here's some more info about the painting.

Wood's philosophy is one of the reasons

his paintings appeal to me:

"In making these paintings,

as you may have guessed,

I had in mind something which I hope to convey

to a fairly wide audience in America --

the picture of a country rich in the arts of peace;

a homely lovable nation,

infinitely worth any sacrifice necessary

to its preservation."

Kiss Me, I'm Irish

Just sayin.

Sisters' Garden and Bloom

a friend, whose style i like, told me i should visit
sisters' garden and bloom, side-by-side shops
in nearby kalona.
so that's where we went on our road trip
saturday.

wow. i fell in love. repeatedly.
unlike anthro, sisters allows photos.

click on them for a better view.

here's the porch:


i looked around for a minute,
and knew immediately i was in a place
like no other in our area.
the creativity of barb, the owner,
is absolutely endless.


one of the sights that greets you inside the door.



umbrellas co-exist with architectural salvage.



one example of barb's wonderful sense of
restraint, as she layers texture, shapes and color.



these gorgeous, vintage-inspired wrapping papers
are used here as ceiling decor.



who knew a brass chandelier could look so chic and modern?



one of my favorite corners of the store,
with circles repeated in the clocks, paper balls, candles--
the gorgeous berry color just makes you smile.



surprises like this await you at every turn.
a gorgeous monet-like painting on a stair landing.



roy called this the "obama chandelier"--
thought it was reflective of the economy.

be sure to click on pic and look at it up close.



this incredible mosaic follows you up the stairs.



vintage mirrors hang along the stairs too.



i really, really want this display case.



the yard is a store unto itself, with doors, windows,
urns, metal furniture, yard ornaments, all laid
out with barb's wit and artistry.



close-up of some salvaged treasures.



adorable matching bird paintings--brilliant red
amidst white textures.



another fascinating wall treatment: buttons and bits,
underscored by a handwritten french composition.




the selection of chandeliers runs the gamut
from old to new to invented.



vintage lab bottles line a shelf.
the masking tape trail left on the sign
is yet another character-adding touch.




totally 100% in love with these.
they're haunting me.



a cheery, seasonal and soothing tabletop arrangement.



a multi-layered view to the porch
from the other side of the arrangement above.



this incredible tree was ripped apart last summer
by a tornado. barb told us before that happened,
it looked like a giant gargoyle.

the stores occupy two delightful cottages,
one of which was the home
of two sisters for many years.
barb honored their story
by naming the shop for them.

the day we visited, the store was full
of shoppers, many of them repeat customers.

in any direction, your eye lands on a treasure
or a surprise, layer after layer.
it's urban country style.

it's better than anthropolgie, since it's one of a kind,
not made in china, and the prices are great.
(sorry anthro...i love you but i don't always like you)
and sisters has been around since 1994.

both houses have upstairs spaces.
you'll find a gift for anyone here.
it's a must for that hard-to-shop-for friend.
find children's books, toys, soaps,
jewelry, perfume, candles,
flora, antiques, cards, cupboards,
vintage farm furniture, signs,
and...as it says on the business card:
oddities.

of course i won't let you go without
showing you what i brought home.
not shown: the divine lilac soap.
if only macdear had a scratch-n-sniff app.





visit barb's beautiful blog for more info
and tons of her own photos.

i'll be going back, don't you worry.
there's an item i kind of think i sort of must have,
that i didn't take a picture of,
but hopefully will when it's in my house.
obsessed now.

ps the patchouli deodorant works.

Tom

My dad was Irish, through and through.

His parents both immigrated from Ireland and settled in New Haven.

He was a unique character.

He was funny, athletic, handsome, smart, and really sweet.

He died in 2003.

Here's a story about him from the local paper.

It tells you a lot about him.

By DOUGLAS BURNS
Times Herald Staff Writer
Tom Sheehan, a player-manager for the only professional sports
enterprise in the history of Carroll, the baseball Merchants of the
early 1950s, is one of those rare people who seemingly enjoyed
universal respect, friends and associates say.

“The essence of Tom Sheehan was that he liked people and people liked
Tom,” said James B. Wilson, publisher of the Daily Times Herald and a
close Sheehan friend.

After a long bout with Alzheimer’s Disease, Sheehan, 80, passed away
in the early morning hours of The Fourth of July, a fitting departure
date for this product of the Greatest Generation, a man who served in
World War II, came back and played baseball both at the college level
and professionally and then, as a salesman, helped build Farner-Bocken into a

regional distribution powerhouse.

Mr. Sheehan was born on August 13, 1922, at New Haven, Conn., the son
of Thomas and Bridget (Cull) Sheehan, Sr.
An Irishman with more than a little touch of superstition, he always
told people his birthday was Aug. 12 because he never wanted to mark a
year’s passing on a dreaded Friday the 13th.
He graduated from Hillhouse High School in New Haven with a scrapbook
of newspaper clippings attesting to his athletic achievements and then
attended the University of Notre Dame in South Bend, Ind.
He entered the U.S. Navy in 1943 and served during World War II in the
Asiatic-Pacific Theater. He was honorably discharged in 1946 and
returned to Notre Dame and graduated in 1947.

                                Tom, Notre Dame graduation 1947

At Notre Dame he was an All-American Baseball Player and team captain,
as well as a member of the basketball team.
“Tom was really a hero at Notre Dame,” said Fred Dolezal, a Carroll
insurance man who also graduated from that prestigious university.
“That was in an era when the boys were coming back from the Second
World War. That was a golden era for Notre Dame sports.”
In fact, Notre Dame baseball mentor Jake Kline said in the early 1940s
that Sheehan was the best college catcher in the nation.
“Three major league clubs want him but they won’t touch him until
after the war,” Kline told an East Coast reporter. “The boy’s not only
a great catcher but a good hitter. He hit a homer against Great Lakes
in the spring and I’m sure he’ll make the grade if he ever goes into professional ball.”

                                                             Tom and Jake Kline, Notre Dame c. 1947

Tom Sheehan did in fact sign with the Pittsburgh Pirates before being
lured, remarkably, considering today’s Major League Baseball salaries,
by more money in Carroll.

Dolezal, who spoke earlier this week at a prayer service, says
Sheehan’s name is featured prominently at Notre Dame landmarks.
While in South Bend, Sheehan developed lasting friendships with some
Fighting Irish legends. He roomed with Johnny Lujack, the Heisman
Trophy-winning running back who went on to play for George Halas’
Chicago Bears.
Now living in Arizona, Lujack called the Sheehan family this week to
offer condolences on the death of his college chum.
“A lot of Tom’s stories had to do with Notre Dame,” said Dolezal,
whose own son, Tim, a Kuemper Catholic High School graduate, was Notre
Dame’s valedictorian. “I know some of you got tired of the Notre Dame
stories but obviously I didn’t. I enjoyed them all.” 

In 1950, Sheehan was hired to be the catcher/manager of the Carroll
Merchants semi-pro baseball team.
Carroll played in the Iowa State League, a circuit that enjoyed
success in the early 1950s before television dominated leisure time.
And in this league Sheehan was the star.
Former Carroll Daily Times Herald sports editor Howard Brantz wrote in
a column that fans from area teams went after Sheehan in much the same
way they now taunt Major League players who bat .359 — as Sheehan did
in 1950 for the Merchants when the team won the league pennant.
“The Carroll manager is our candidate for the best drawing card in the
league,” Brantz wrote. “You ought to hear the fans in opponents’
parks. It sounds more like they come out to ride Sheehan than see the
game. That’s no alibi for Sheehan or the Merchants. In fact, Tom
laughs about the fans getting on him.”
Sheehan told Brantz, “When the fans are on me they give the umpire and
other players a rest.”

It is that sort of self-deprecating remark that friends say revealed
much about Sheehan’s character.
“As many of you know from his obituary Tom had a remarkable athletic
career before he arrived in Carroll as manager of the Carroll
Merchants baseball team,” Wilson said. “But he never seemed to crave
attention because of his exploits nor boast of his accomplishments at
Notre Dame or later. He could tell stories for hours about his days in
athletics, but they were almost always about others, not about
himself.” 

Very simply, Sheehan was a modest man.
Wilson recalled taking a plane into Chicago a number of years ago and
boarding a bus for downtown. Wilson found himself across the aisle
from George Connor, the legendary Notre Dame all-American tackle,
Chicago Bear and member of the National Football League Hall of Fame.
“He was returning to Chicago from New Jersey where he had done color
commentary for the Notre Dame-Rutgers football game the day before,”
Wilson said. “We started visiting and when I said I was from Carroll,
Iowa, he immediately asked me if I knew Tom Sheehan. Connor related
several stories about Tom at Notre Dame and I filled him in on his
life in Carroll, both enjoying hearing the other talk about our friend
Tom.”
Wilson said he and Connor could have sat in those two seats telling
Sheehan stories all day.
“As we left the bus Connor’s final comment was, ‘Tom was a really good
guy and a darned good athlete to boot,’” Wilson said.

For Sheehan, sports proved to be an arena for forming life-long
friendships.

It’s also how a 50-year marriage started.
Sheehan’s wife, Betty, a Nevada native and the long-time former
Carroll County Recorder, met Tom while she was working as a clerk for
the City of Ames. 

"I went to a baseball game at Clear Lake, and this ballplayer saw me and said,
‘Hey! Who’s that good-looking chick over there? I’ve got to meet her,”
Betty recalled with her usual dry wit, in a 1992 interview with Times Herald reporter 

Butch Heman after her retirement from the Courthouse.

Tom was married to Betty on Oct.10, 1953, at Nevada.

The couple then made their home in Carroll and Mr. Sheehan was a

salesman for the Farner-Bocken Co., from that date until his

retirement on Jan. 1, 1992.

During those years, Sheehan, the father of two children, Dan and

Kitty, was a frequent contender in local golf tournaments, and was

always a supporter of local youth sports.

Dolezal recalled asking Sheehan for advice before church at St.

Lawrence one day. Dolezal wanted to know how to work with a Little

League catcher who couldn’t pull balls from the dirt.

Sheehan — always the catcher at heart — said he would help, and

clearly spent some or all of the Mass thinking about the problem. He

found Dolezal after church and said, “Instead of getting on that

catcher, you should teach that pitcher not to throw the ball in the

dirt.”

Dolezal, Wilson and others say Sheehan was a rarity, a star athlete

and raconteur also known for his humility.

Former Daily Times Herald Sports Editor Dennis O’Grady, a

living archive of local athletics, said this week that Sheehan was one

of the more impressive sports figures and people in the rich history

of Carroll athletics.

“He was born and raised in New Haven, Connecticut, goes to Notre Dame,

and ends up in Carroll, Iowa, by way of semi-pro baseball and then

decides to stay here,” O’Grady said. “That’s sort of neat. Obviously,

he fell in love with Carroll, and vice-versa.”

                                                                                     My family 1958

I miss him a lot this time of year, when everybody wants to be Irish.

I don't remember him ever being mad at me, even when I deserved it.

The only time he was ever stern with me was when I wanted to quit college. He listened to me wailing on the phone, and said, "well, ok, get back to work now."

So I did.

Some things the newspaper story doesn't tell you:

He used to make up stories full of characters with nonsensical, double talk names.

He loved it when we jumped into his bed on Sunday mornings and he'd read the paper to us and tell us stories and play with us.

He taught me how to play golf.

He knew tons of poems by heart and taught them to me.

His favorite was "Sea Fever" by John Masefield.

He loved music, and played it all the time when he was driving.

He sang along with the Carpenters and Barbara Streisand but usually sang the wrong words. He didn’t care though.

He bought me 45 rpm records every week, but I think it was so he could listen to them.

He loved "Georgie Girl." I think that was the first record he bought me.

He also loved "Downtown" and "Band of Gold."

He used to stand in the doorway of my bedroom when I was in high school, and he'd listen to my music. Sometimes, as in the case of Bob Dylan, he'd say, "Who told that guy he could sing?"

He gave everyone nicknames, and they had them for life.

He loved his cats, Lenny and Gracie. He kept a brush by his chair so he could brush them whenever they'd let him. He talked to them all day.

He talked about his brothers a lot. He had two, also accomplished athletes.

And he talked about the war.

His only son, my brother Dan, died at age 22. He never got over that.

Just thought i'd tell you about him as St. Pat's day rolls around.

My best bit of Irish luck was to have him as my dad.

Colleen Corby

One of the supermodels of my teen years was Colleen Corby.

She was everywhere.

She did like 15 Seventeen magazine covers.

She was in both the Sears and JC Penney catalog.

She was in an ad on every other page of every magazine.

I'm not exaggerating.

I thought she was gorgeous.

and...

it took some doing, but I found a pic of her today.

Here she is now.

She looks happy and beautiful.

She looks like someone I'd like to know.

I bet she has some stories.