I was planning to post today about one of the supercool mixes I got from Smed yesterday (thanks, Smed!), but I have been interrupted a thousand times by a thousand small things and thus have only managed to finish my write-up of the Mystery Mix. I can�t post that one yet, because Smed has threatened us with bodily harm, no, left threatening messages on our answering machine in which he shrieks like a howler monkey, er, politely requested that I synchronize my post of the review of that disk with that offreshhell, who, alas, has not yet received hers.

But then, I live much closer to BFE, also known as Smed�s fair city. I have, in fact, spent some time wandering the streets of BFE. In high school, I had a small crush on a violist in my youth orchestra who was from there. But I didn�t actually set foot in the town until about five and a half years ago. At the time, Mr. Spy was working on a magazine story about Smed�s place of employment (a great story which was, alas, killed by the magazine in favor of the next celebrity special). AJ�s arrival was imminent. The day before my due date, Mr. Spy had to go there and spend the night. We had all these contingency plans in case AJ arrived early (he was, in fact, nearly a week late). I remember pacing around the apartment folding little clothes that didn�t really need folding and watching a lot of Seventh Heaven on TV. You see, when I was pregnant, I didn�t have weird food cravings, other than an aversion to vinegar, but I suddenly became incapable of watching anything with the least hint of violence or anger � Law & Order, the news, Everybody Loves Raymond. Seventh Heaven became my favorite show. And then as soon as AJ was born I was incredulous that I could have ever gone for that. It�s pure hormones. You never hear about this kind of thing in the pregnancy books, but it happens to a lot of people. A friend of mine became a devout listener to the Christian radio station when she was pregnant. She had to have it on all day long. And she�s Jewish.

Anyway, Mr. Spy made it home. I worked for another week, and decided on Friday that I�d had enough. I cleared out my office, left a note for my boss telling her that I was done and the next day I went into labor (although I didn�t know it, because my back had been hurting so much throughout my pregnancy that apparently I couldn�t tell the difference between sore back and contractions). Sunday, an hour or so after the Oscars ended (I remember the Sunday part because we spent the morning reading the paper in the delivery room and I remember the Oscars part because we discovered that if we kept The Oscars on TV, the nurses came in a lot more often), AJ was born. He�s way cuter than a gold statuette. AJ�s lucky he wasn�t named Oscar.

A couple of weeks later, we took AJ on his very first trip out of Chicago � to BFE. We stayed in a motel, AJ and I, while Mr. Spy did his work. Later we all drove up to campus and wandered around looking at the beautiful old Victorian houses. It was nice to get out and walk around in a place that was more stroller-friendly than Chicago�s Loop at rush hour. We tried to remember songs about the Mighty Wabash and instead made some up. Mostly we just enjoyed being outside in a pretty place on a spring day. So I think fondly of BFE, site of our first family vacation, such as it was.

So every time I get some CDs from Smed, these thoughts are in the back of my mind. I�ve got some serious listening to do this weekend. Stay tuned for my upcoming music reviews of the 75 songs on Smed�s disks!

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