What's Up Magazines

It all started with a note on my car windshield.

I got in my car to go to work early last week, and I saw the words MARY MAC in cut-out magazine letters facing me through the glass. A bit surprised and maybe a tiny bit scared (creative, friendly stalker?!), I opened the envelope to find an invitation of sorts. It read: “Mary! Make no plans for Saturday night! We require you at 6:00! Dress in birthday elegance. Further instructions to follow.”

Ok, way too friendly to be a stalker. I thought of my friends in town, which one of them would take the time to do something so fun and unique? Then, I thought of my co-workers, because the “Mary Mac” title is something I get most often at the magazine office. And- get it?- it’s written in cut-out magazine letters?

So throughout the course of the week I had fun thinking about who may have sent it. A second note read: “Marymac: Be out on your porch Saturday night at 6:00. Alone. And hungry. And well-dressed. Be prepared to party. We will come for you.”

The only ‘catch’ in my plans for a fantastic evening came when my fourteen year old reminded me: “MOM! You are supposed to be at the pre-formal party at 6!” Uh-oh. Saturday night was her first formal- the middle school 8^th grade dance is basically a prom rehearsal, complete with all the professional hair and makeup, dress and shoes, corsage and photos we’ll be dealing with at the high school come fall. There were pre-parties and after parties, and one of the pre-parties required my attendance in order to snap photos.

But how would I rsvp for an invitation whose origin I did not know? I pondered this with my daughter. “I know who it is,” she said. “I will email and tell them you can’t do it til like 7 or whatever.” An argument ensued. Did I really have to go to the pre-formal photo session? Couldn’t Dad go? I wanted to go at the designated time- plans had been made! The 6:30 compromise was quickly reached, mysterious emails were sent, and I ended up in front of the house (not exactly alone) taking pictures of my daughter and her friend (the makeup appointment ran late) and then jumping in the car with my three friends (in photo below L to R: Laura, Kara, (me), Kellen).

What a joy- to be whisked off to an unknown destination with no kids, no husbands (no offense!) and no responsibilities! I was thrilled. The night only got better. We landed at Scossa, an Italian restaurant in Easton where I had once eaten lunch (the magazine is laid out right down the street) but never dinner. It was HEAVEN. And I am not just saying that because the Grey Goose martinis- up with extra olives- were amazing. We each had different appetizers, entrees and desserts, and via a complex bread-plate-passing system, were able to try all of each other’s meals. Beyond fantastic. Really. I would run out of adjectives trying to describe the food- thank God I am not a food reviewer.

But the most surprising part of the evening was still to come. A gift materialized from under the table. I was shocked to see it- surely being taken out to dinner by these three cool friends was enough of a gift! But I was pleasantly surprised to open a collection of Mojito-making supplies. Mojitos, of course, being our new summer drink of choice. Now I would be able to muddle lime and mint to my heart’s content using only the finest in cocktail-assembling paraphernalia. Nothing is more perfect to drink by the pool than this chilled, minty glass of yummy rimmed with sugar. Mmmmmmmmm.

Anyway, I thought it was all over, and I was so happy and thankful about having these wonderful friends- and then the true shocker of the night came- they told me to open the birthday card. As I read the handmade card, my face went through a montage of expressions worthy of the most heart-wrenching of soap opera moments. These amazing friends of mine had given me a gift I could never have imagined. A full size vintage 80s Ms. Pac Man arcade machine has been something I have wanted since- well, since I used to visit the original in the King of Prussia Mall arcade in the 80s. I collect Ms. Pac Man vintage t-shirts, have the game in shaky-joystick format for our tv, and generally have been stalking true vintage arcade games on ebay since ebay began.

And believe it or not, our local Eastern Shoreman Sheriff Gary Hoffman actually rebuilds Ms. Pac Man arcade games as a hobby. Every time I see him, I ask about getting one, but was for some reason (well, the reason that my 4 kids keep liking groceries every week) have not been able to make myself plunk down the cash. And now, my vision of having a Ms. Pac Man arcade game before my 40^th birthday will become a reality. UNBELIEVABLE. Happiest birthday ever, for sure.

Ladies, you are truly the best.

I am sad to see another Mother’s Day pass. This year was my 15^th! It is probably one of my favorite days of the year. Every year, I spend it at home, with my four children, on the Mommy Porch. The Mommy Porch is a second story porch at my house that is one of the best things about our old Victorian.  It overlooks the pool and garden, and is surrounded by trees such that you feel you are in a treehouse. Unfortunately, in the grand scheme of things, I don’t get to spend very much time on this porch, but on Mother’s Day I spend the whole day there. So this year for Mother’s Day, after my kids brought me breakfast in bed (pancakes, sausage, eggs, fruit, and coffee!), I retreated to the porch.

It is called the Mommy Porch because in our sprawling,  5,000-foot 1881 home, it is the only Spot that is truly Mine. My husband, who works for IBM during the week but is a Weekend Restoration Warrior, just completed the restoration of the porch- it needed new flooring, roof, railings, and screening. By this weekend, everything on the porch was done but the screening- and the bugs weren’t out yet, so it was fine. It was actually a bit chilly, so I spent the day under the huge blue blanket I used to take to Girl Scout camp as a kid. Until the renovation, I had a note posted on the door to the porch- it said “Mommy Porch Rules” and read something like:

1.       1. Mom is in charge of this porch and will make all rules.

2.       2. The Mommy Porch is available to children by invitation only.

3.       3. No tattletaling, whining, or crying allowed on the porch.

4.       4. Acceptable Mommy Porch activities include reading, writing, sewing, chatting, or playing… the occasional sleepover or eating of crabs will take place with advance permission only.

5.       5. No electronic devices are allowed on the Mommy Porch.

6.       6. If Mom is on The Porch appearing to be resting in any way, do not disturb her unless you are bleeding from the head profusely.

7.       7. Any questions? See Rule #1.

I wish I had more time to spend there. It is quite a sacred spot. It is decorated with the sea glass my kids and I have collected together over the years (displayed in an old printer’s type box), an Adirondack chair, candles, plants, and my favorite porch item: the Lounge Lizard. The Lounge Lizard is the nickname of a chair I bought at the Crumpton auction about six years ago for $5. It is a curved, green and blue print, vinyl-upholstered chair that by some might be considered an ugly indoor-porch castoff from the 1960’s.

When I first saw it, I was pregnant with my third daughter, and her room was being decorated in antique frog décor (yes, I had been hoping for a boy, and when he finally came a few years later, he got the leftover frog nursery) and the room was decorated in the colors of sage green and faded denim blue. So, the chair was not only the perfect color, but with its sturdy maple frame, armrests and recliner lever (it truly ‘puts your feet up’ for you) was the perfect chair for spending long (middle-of-the) nights nursing a newborn. Obviously, the best $5 I ever spent.

So for Mother’s Day I spent some time for the first time in 2008 on the newly restored porch on the sturdy old Lounge Lizard. Each of my kids came and spent time with me (I even let the teenager break the ‘electronic’ rule), I read a few chapters of my book, and I was served peanut butter and Fluff sandwiches and Diet Cokes by two separate kids who didn’t know of the other’s lunch plans for me. Not wanting to hurt either’s feelings, I ate both. They were both amazing.

One day I know the kids will move away, one by one, and there will be less (and older) children visiting me there. The breakfasts (I remember a frozen bagel brought to me in bed by that teenager about a decade ago!) and the gifts may change- (I treasure the handmade ones the best) but my love for those four children- and hopefully the Lounge Lizard and the porch, too!- never will.

I had the pleasure this weekend of attending Wye Mills Parish’s May Fair festival. I was with three of my kids (Molly, 10, Faith, 5, Bobby, 2)… and the girlfriend of my little brother John. John is 27 and as a Captain in the Army served our country in Iraq for two years. He was born when I was 12 (I’m the oldest of six; he’s #5) and he’s been the baby brother apple of my eye ever since. So I was wary of ‘the girlfriend’ I was meeting for the first time but I couldn’t find a single thing wrong with Stacy (and in fact ended up thinking she was so cool I hope my brother doesn’t do something to screw it up!). The Wye Mills festival was a great place to meet/hang out with someone (even a gorgeous potential sister-in-law).

The food was of course summer church festival AMAZING- the chicken salad has some magical ingredient that NO ONE would disclose…though the ladies mentioned they may be coming out with a cookbook! My church, Mother of Sorrows in Centreville, (and I use the term 'my church' loosely as I am a total "Holly/Lily Catholic"... Christmas and Easter, baby) just came out with a cookbook (I co- chaired the committee, those poor things) and it rocks. Over 600 recipes- 3 are even from me! But one involves Campbell's Tomato Soup and another Champagne, so...

So, I guess I will have to wait for the Wye cookbook to find out what’s in the chicken salad.

There was a great plant sale. The ladies there apologized for the prices being high from the nurseries charging more due to gas. I made out better with their home-grown, dug up and put-in-a-plastic-bag plants—especially because I got there late when they were ‘giving it away.’ Can’t wait to see those Irises bloom- and don’t mind waiting til next year for the Easter lilies!

One sad note- this was the first time I had been in Wye Mills since the Wye Oak fell. It was so sad to see its gaping hole on the landscape… I went on a field trip to it when my oldest was in 2^nd grade. It fell the same year, and her teacher gave them each a small branch to keep.

At May Fair, the Kent Island Band (and their fantastic jazz singer) played while we ate lunch (Stacy was partial to the devilled eggs- we got the last few!), and afterward we checked out the ‘estate sale’ where we found some fantastic bargains on antiques. My kids liked the fire truck and the moonbounce best, and all three of them got to paint terra cotta pots for Mother’s Day, complete with pretty plants in them. Needless to say, these are my favorite Mother’s Day gifts already!

I had the fantastic opportunity this weekend to visit the ever-quaint town of St. Michaels for the 6th Annual St. Michael's Food and Wine Festival. I attended the VIP reception on Thursday night, not because I am one, but because the gracious ladies from the festival supplied our magazine with some press passes so we could cover the event. Events Editor Andrew Keatts and I were able to take some fab pictures for the Limelight section of the magazine- they'll run in July/August- so don't miss them! The food at the reception was amazing- gorgeous sushi, pan-seared lobster cakes, and luscious chocolate-covered strawberries. Meeting French chefs? Très chic.

I then attended Saturday's festivities at the festival. I was concerned that since I do not drink wine (they give me migraines- it's the sulfites, I hear. Organic's ok, but I didn't feel like looking for it), I would feel left out. Not so. There were miniature margarita and martini glasses for tasting everything from Blueberry Patron tequila to all three varieties of my very favorite bar-shelf bachelor: Jack Daniel's. The first thing to go in my handed-out-at-the-door souvenir wine glass was Single Barrel Jack and some ice. The woman who poured it, Lynne Tolley, was the great grand-niece of Jack himself. How cool is that? (It's a funny coincidence, because I have always called him "Uncle Jack", too!)

She was very interesting to hear, from her heavy Southern accent to the fascinating stories she told about her Tennessee family's whiskey company and its heritage. I attended her Jack Daniel's seminar and learned all about charcoal mellowing, how JD is made of 80% corn (it's practically a vegetable! who knew?),and how the variations in heat make the difference in the whiskey's interaction with its charred white oak barrel (if it's hotter, the pores of the barrels open more, creating a smoother finish.) I knew I liked Single Barrel best, but now I know why! And did you know the whiskey is clear before it enters the barrels? The golden color we see in the bottle comes strictly from the wood itself.

Another interesting thing I learned is that you can buy your own barrel of Jack Daniel's whiskey from the Lynchburg, Tennessee distillery- it has its own metal label (Created Especially For...), makes the equivalent of 250 bottles of whiskey, and comes with the reasonable price tag of $9,000.00. I just want to let everyone know my birthday is in a few weeks...so....

Lynne Tolley also has a cookbook out called "Cooking With Jack"- did you know it can be used if you are out of vanilla?! It's also great in marinades, in sweet potatoes, onion soup, you name it. Lynne says she "uses it in everything!"

She closed the seminar with a toast to her uncle, who started the family business in 1866.

"To my Uncle Jack, a true American spirit for well over a century... and he's still in the bars every night!"

Mary McCarthy is Managing Editor of What's Up? Eastern Shore magazine. Click here for her complete article on the Jack Daniel's brands.

I had the unique opportunity to attend a concert this month with my turning-40 husband and my turning-14 daughter. It was an R.E.O. Speedwagon/Styx/Def Leppard concert. For those of who you who may not remember back to the 80s, these were three prominent bands of the era. Def Leppard was one of my favorites ‘back in the day’ with hits like Photograph, Pour Some Sugar on Me, Rock of Ages, Bringin on the Heartbreak and other head-banging hits.

Born in New Jersey, I am no stranger to hairspray (highest hair wins), concert shirts and loud rock music. I had a poster of Billy Squier on my wall (anyone remember Stroke Me or Everybody Wants You?) So the opportunity to surprise my husband and daughter with the concert tickets was a ton of fun (and what a thoughtful gift: tickets to a concert I was dying to see!).

The concert was held at The Borgata Casino Resort & Spa in Atlantic City, New Jersey. Gone are the days when AC was sort of trashy. This place redefines ‘casino’- it’s truly its own little classy town. I never left the building once all weekend. Shopping, dining, spa, and slots are all in one luxurious spot. The rooms are very nice, with gorgeous marble bathrooms and- if you have a suite with a curved glass wall, gorgeous water views. Hospitality is a tiny challenge for them with their hundreds and hundreds of rooms. Things like sheet quality, outdated tv’s, and non-working light bulbs are details that are probably noticed by some of the folks paying a ton of well-won casino money.

The Event Center, where the concert was held, is a cozy 2400-seater and thus very intimate. From the second row, I could have reached out and touched the big bleach-blond hair of a number of rock stars if it wouldn’t have gotten me hauled off by security! I was able to take some amazing photos. I only felt old during one song (don’t you hate when they do songs from ‘the new album’?!) where I thought the pounding bass was going to knock me over; but I didn’t want to get caught putting my fingers in my ears!

The spa was very nice as well. I wouldn’t exactly say I am a spa connoisseur, but I do try to dabble occasionally to escape the stress of daily life as a mom/writer. So I have been to a few. Borgata has a stunning setting for their spa- the waterfall in one of the spa rooms (complete with cucumbers on ice for your eyes, a steam room and sauna, and three hot tubs) is gorgeous- you can even sip ice water while you soak! I had all all-body wrap called the Firm, in which you are wrapped- like a mummy- and simultaneously hydrated and dehydrated in such a way that causes you to lose a few pound of water weight and gain all-over soft skin. Very cool, and my former casino-pit-boss-turned-spa-guy Perry (who truly looks like a Sopranos cast member) filled me in on all the latest spa gossip of which celebrities have visited! April then took me for a fantabulous facial called the Borgata Glow involving yummy-smelling aromatherapy, exfoliation and moisturization that left me floating on air. An adjacent salon was ready to buff and polish me to be presentable for dinner. The only complaints I had about the spa were that they gave out incredibly uncomfortable plastic dollar-store flip flops (I walked around in bare feet instead) and that it’s way too crowded… some of the New Jersey women eating cucumbers off the ice like it was a salad bar, stuffing their purses with the ‘complimentary’ juices and fruits and yelling loudly at one another made it a bit…noisy for a spa.

At Borgata, you can choose from 8-10 restaurants to meet your dining desires…from a casual café or even a buffet or cafeteria all the way up to a Wolfgang Puck restaurant or Bobby Flay Steakhouse. We chose Sea Blue, which is a Michael Mina seafood restaurant. It was amazing. I am not a food reviewer (for the very good reason that, with 4 kids, I don’t get to eat out in elegant places often enough not to be completely appreciative that I am in a place with cloth napkins, so I probably couldn’t think of anything bad to say!) But this place is truly special- impeccable service, chic atmosphere and diverse selection of entrees. From my pineapple mojito and custom-choice salad toppings, to the 2 lb mesquite grilled lobster (YUM) and upscale funnel cake with dipping sauces dessert, I was in heaven.

The best part of the trip was spending time with my teenager and my husband. Who knew it would be Def Leppard who would bridge the generation gap? She knows the words to every one of their songs! We really had a fun time. When you have a bunch of kids, it’s hard to carve out time with each individual one, so I try to remember at each of their birthdays to do something special so they won’t look back and remember nothing but a tired, overworked Mom. And it is super nice to have some sugar poured on me once in awhile in the form of mojitos, spa services and good old fashioned rock and roll!

Captions: (from top to bottom):

The lead singer of Def Leppard, Joe Elliott, was tough to ‘Photograph’…he never stands still, but here he is blowing us all a kiss goodbye! Sigh.

Def Leppard’s guitarist Phil Collen doesn’t look any different now than he did in the 80s!

Happy 14^th Birthday, Sarah! Here we are in our specially-procured from ebay vintage 80’s Def Leppard t-shirts!

I am new to this whole commuting thing. Since I started at What's Up mag, I have been doing the whole 'going over the bay bridge' routine that so many have done for so long. Normally, I leave the house and look forward to the commute. With four kids, the opportunity to drive alone in my car, choose non-cereal breakfasts and listen to my choice of music is actually quite a luxury.

Coming home is more of a pain. It's not always the bay bridge traffic that gets you- it's the Severn River Bridge. (which always make me hear the old Eagles song in my head...). I have been learning when- and when not- to hit that traffic- it can smack you in the face pretty hard. I have been meaning to learn the 'back way' to the bay bridge- like cut through the Naval Academy somehow and go over some other bridge... but I still haven't had time to  figure that out. If anyone would like to chime in with the exact directions- thank you in advance!

Bay Bridge operators seem to have a sadistic knack for opening exactly the wrong lanes at the wrong time. One lane going one way, bumper to bumper- three empty lanes the other. You can spend an hour getting through the toll on any given day. And I am scared of summer! Fridays? Yikes!!

Honestly I do not know how the residents of the Eastern Shore who work in Washington or Baltimore do it every day. I am thinking mini-fridge... a good book... and a well-programmed ipod?

Welcome to the first ever Chicken Necker Blog.

I guess I should start by explaining what a chicken necker is, in case you don’t happen to know.

The term has actually made it into the Urban Dictionary and is defined as follows:

“Slang commonly used on the Eastern Shore of Maryland to describe a tourist or someone who is not from that area. Comes from the practice of using chicken necks as crab bait. As in:
These goddamned chicken neckers always turn 50/301 into a parking lot during weekends in July.”

Well, that’s a creative way to use the word in a sentence, eh? A Google search today returned 24,900 hits on the term ‘chicken necker.’ Basically, it means you’re ‘not from here.’ Really though, are any of us ‘from here’? Every time I see the bumper sticker that says “The Few, The Proud, The Native Eastern Shoreman” I think there should be a portrait of an Native American on it.

Did you know there's a chicken necker store in Rock Hall, offering chicken necker t-shirts and other stuff? Ever hospitable, Rock Hall even holds a “Chicken Necker Appreciation Day” once a year.

The opposite of a chicken necker is a trot liner—Eastern Shore natives apparently catch their crabs using a long line of … trot or something, look I don’t really know! I thought ‘Jimmies’ came in chocolate and rainbow and were something you got on your ice cream cone in the summer, so don't ask me.

I’m proud to be a ‘chicken necker.’ ...I'm from what Eastern Shoremen refer to as “The Western Shore.” When I first heard this, I kept feeling like I needed to tell people I wasn’t from California. Actually, I don’t even really feel qualified to be a 'chicken necker', because the only catching of crabs I do in the summer involves paper bags from Crab Deck takeout on Kent Narrows or Hunter’s in Grasonville.

But here I am, in my new job as Managing Editor of What’s Up Eastern Shore. After a decade and a half as a freelance writer for regional and national magazines and newspapers, I am absolutely thrilled to be here. I have lived on the shore for 8 years- and I actually gave birth to one of my four kids here on our side of 'the pond', (I even served as the first-ever chicken necker elected official in Centreville!) so I have gotten to know the Shore pretty well, and I will do the best I can to represent Shore folks, whether they’ve lived here for a month, a decade, or ten generations.

Check back here for the latest in chicken necker-ana. All things chicken necker-esque. Chicken necker-o-rama.

I welcome your thoughts, suggestions, and input. Please write to me at mmccarthy@whatsupmag.com and send me your story ideas.