The ramblings, rants, and sometime epiphanies of a seemingly unfocused and highly anal retentive native California chick who spends a lot of time reflecting about the randomness of things, especially life. Warning, there's lots of soul searching and whiney self-discovery ahead.This blog is rated R ... for random.
Oh Judy Collins ... the things I could teach you about clouds! I wish I didn't know clouds at all.
The story of my life revolves around them and their silver linings. My clouds are plentiful and sometimes have silver linings but my silver linings always come with clouds. Fate gave me a cloud (the problem) and fate gave me the silver lining (the fix) the only trouble is that fate's timing stinks. It gave me the silver lining before the cloud and so I mistook the silver lining for a windfall.
I should have known >(
Long story short, I had a series of events that netted me some extra cash as of this coming Saturday. Oh the grandiose plans I made to get right with the world with that windfall!!!! Guess how much the car repair cost? No, I'm not kidding. Almost to the exact penny! So all the plans I had went out the window ... the car window I guess. Just when I felt like I finally had the world by the tail along comes the cloud and the whole thunderstorm with it. Whack! But the car is back on the road and I can now relocate (cloud or silver lining TBD) poor as ever but without the worry and guilt of leaving the kid stranded here.
I have a couple of silver linings to be really grateful for and I try to keep those in the front of my mind while I scrounge around for a raincoat in preparation for the next cloud burst.
Cloud: the job in Redding is wrapping up around 5/1 Silver Lining: I'm one of the lucky few being relocated to a new job team Cloud: the new job team is in Santa Maria (San Luis Obispo) Silver Lining: it's near the beach .. eh, ok I'm reaching here Cloud: My SUV is having trouble accelerating Silver Lining: it's still running
and my family is well and healthy and soon to be whole again ... now if I could just get some of that good health to rub off on my car .....
... when is enough ENOUGH? Why can't God, or fate, or whoever is messing with me, simply just find something else to do for the next half century or so and give me some peace!?!
Chris' second-hand Honda (the one with 11 payments still left on it) took a dump on Friday. I won't seriously know how much, how long or any of the gory details really until I get it in the shop tomorrow ... but SHIT! Everytime I nearly get both hands wrapped around this thing called life something comes along to make my grip slip. Yes, yes, YES I know I should count my blessings ... I'm luckier than many ... luckier than most ... but SHIT!
Seriously I can only rest my head in my hands and occasionally shake my fist at fate today.
SHIT!
SHIT!
SHIT!
Life sometimes is like trying to dig a hole in the sand.
And so begins another winterguard season. I miss not teaching this year but am looking forward to being enthused about the programs I'm privileged enough to judge ... and I'll see a lot of them this year with assignments in 5 different circuits starting with a show at Beyer and a show at Homestead this Saturday.
I'm dreading the driving but really looking forward to the kids.
... cuz I can't think what else in the wide, wide world of sports would have me even thinking remotely about marching again. But it keeps popping into my head. I keep looking at the website. What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I missing it THIS year??????
Plain and simple, 2008 was a landmark year for me as a wife, a mom, a woman, and even as a human being. It was life changing year I want to remember for reasons good and bad so I'm writing down some superficial tidbits here to help me remember it.
Most of 1Q'08 was consumed trying to balance life between home base in Sac and a Redding hotel. A hotel is still a hotel no matter how great the room service is and so the mental wrestling over the decision to relocate or not ended with the decision to move to Redding. Once the decision was made life really swung into chaotic high-gear with a 4-hour frantic search for a place to live, moving company quotes, the purchase of a new to me vehicle, closing up the Sac apartment, change of address forms and the 1,001 other tasks related to successfully cutting and pasting an entire existence into a new place ... and that was all just in one week! The new job assignment, teaching/judging and some extraordinary challenges in the very private part of my very real life had me on the run through 1Q and wondering when the merry-go-round would simply slow down enough for me to jump off -- never mind the road rash -- there's ointment for that!
2Q'08 and the new zip code found life revolving primarily around driving. It seemed I was driving back to the Sac area every few days. This compounded the difficulty of establishing a new groove in a new place. Much of the driving was related to the crazy decision to insanely stuff, into my already overflowing bag of personal commitments, the challenge of working with a drum corps. (If only I could clone myself ... and fly.) Although I was super jazzed about the opportunity, in the end, the new job and the price of fuel ($4.69/gallon) and other, more important, things in my life made it impossible for me to really do this justice. 2Q utlimately proved though that the move up to Redding was the right thing for right now for all of us. I'm firmly entrenched here now with a strange sense of permanence despite the knowledge that everything here is extremely temporary. Truth is it looks as though I'll be headed onto the next adventure as soon as April 1.
The first month of Q3 saw me wrap up all of my colorguard adventures and the quiet closing of my "colorguard door". I was able to stick out the crazy teaching schedule til the last camp before the kiddos left on tour in July and before the first band camp for EGHS happened. That was a good stopping point for all of us. I had a great, but exhausting, time doing it and I might try it again under better real life circumstances and, this time, more on my terms. The result of all of this was that a life lived at a dead run almost instantly became a life lived at a dead stop. Whoa! Sure, I experienced a little whiplash but I successfully transitioned into an ordinary life of 100 degree temperatures, lawn watering in my shorts, Sangria on the patio and my first civilian summer since 2001. Funny thing is that once I stopped running I immediately found balance, happiness and some inner peace taking care of things that matter most to me. I know that's a little corny, but I don't even care. By mid Q3 things had settled down to the point of maintenance. The end of Q3 ushered in a new role in my life as I became a mother-in-law ... and things will never be the same in a lot of really good ways. I hope I'm a good one! September 13 I turned 51 and began to see my mom in my mirror instead of me ... it's troubling, it's okay, it was expected all along ... so why does it continually surprise me?
4Q'08 played out very predictably. Overall the fall was really good. I love the fall here in Redding and I'll miss that. The weather is crisp and cold and reminescent of "football days". 4Q saw the election of a democrat for president (thank God), my first gig out of state and a trifecta of unexpectedly nice holidays. I thought I'd get a ton of trick or treaters this year living in a house ... and got 4 ... and the family ended up eating a lot of left over candy. For a brief 11 weeks this Fall it looked liked our family was going to expand by one, but it wasn't meant to happen just yet after all. It eventually will though and I know he, or she, will be well worth the wait. So I wait. Thanksgiving was really good when we finally got around to celebrating it and it was thrilling when, a week before Christmas, I saw snow falling outside my window. Snow has always been something to visit or vacation in so it was very special to watch it from the windows of my own little warm house.
2008 has been one of the most painful and most peaceful years that I can remember in my adult life ...or possibly ever. I've had extraordinary amounts of time to just sit and think, to recover from hurts big and little, to organize myself into sanity, to plan for the future and think my way through what I really want as I enter the next phase of my life and to get back to those things that are important to me. I've ruminated a lot over my faults, failures and limitations this year but I've also recognized my talents. I've learned I'm far more intimidating, far dumber, far more spoiled and self-indulgent, far stronger and far more idealistic than I would have EVER previously believed or confessed to. Ah well. In the end I finally figured out that I like me. I can't say yet exactly what all this reflection will result in, but I know I've made peace with myself and that I'm happy in all my roles in life. It's a good place to be.
I'm approaching 2009 more hopeful than I can remember being in a very long time. After all, I have a lot to be grateful for in my life and many wonderful things to look forward to in the next chapter ...
One thing will make it even better, and hopefully, that one thing will come soon.
My cell phone ONLY rings nowadays when I'm driving. Either I have no friends to call me anymore and so only my kids are calling me and THEN only because I'm not home to tell them where to find the start button on the dryer, or what closet the extra toilet paper is stowed in, or how to broil meat, or whatever (and these are ALL real phone calls I've received) OR I'm driving way too much. As I reflect on this now, I realize it's the latter. I'm driving way too much. Today I clocked six hours total ... and my phone rang at least 8 times in the process. None of those times could I actually answer the phone because, well, I was driving. Before you wonder the obvious, no, I don't have a headset and this is for two completely logical reasons; 1) my phone isn't compatible with Bluetooth technology, so my options are severely limited, and 2) I have really small ear holes (don't laugh I'm not kidding) and there's not an ear bud in existence, or at least that I can find, that will fit inside my ridiculously tiny ear hole, seriously! So when the phone rings I just look at it helplessly and wonder what the calling party is calling for ... or pull over. Pulling over, however, sometimes carries severe penalities that, over time, I've come to believe make pulling over to take the call simply not worth it. More than once I have taken an offramp to answer the phone only to find there's not a way to get directly back onto the freeway and have wasted ten minutes being lost. Shit! On occasion I have tried clandestinely answering the phone, but that never works because I'm irrationally terrified of getting caught and this makes me talk like a person moved by the spirit and speaking in tongues ... and the conversation quickly takes an abrupt turn into the land of lunacy and well, again, it's just not worth it. I don't try that anymore. Quite frankly I've embarrassed myself enough thank you.
At one point about halfway home tonight my phone started ringing again. In what is now my standard operating procedure I just watched it light up the bottom of my purse over and over and sighed. Just about the second in time that I turned my attention away from my purse and back to the road I was passed on my left by a behmoth SUV with THREE glowing TV screens ... AND ONE WAS IN THE FRONT SEAT! Let me see if I have this right ... it's okay to watch TV while you drive but not okay to hold a 2.5" long, little silver phone to your ear and TALK into it??? Who came up with that logic? After that, I was looking into every car that passed me. My rough guesstimate is that 2 out of 5 cars have something huge glowing on their dashboard. I assume most of them were GPS devices ... but even so ... doesn't that seem far more distracting then a small cell phone against your ear? I mean really, who needs a GPS to drive straight north on highway 5 through the land of nowhere anyway? My hand to God, I don't understand the point of this cell phone law. Tonight reminded me of something I saw a few months ago. While driving in the morning commute traffic I saw a woman who was eating with one hand AND applying her mascara in her rear view mirror with her other hand and she HAD A GINORMOUS DOG IN HER LAP ... and expired tags. The Redding motorcycle cop who pulled alongide her was apparently undistrubed by this sight. Hmmmm. I wonder what would have happened if I'd pulled out my phone at that moment and started talking on it?????
My first weekend home since band season started on October 11th and I'm absolutely relishing the time to just sit still and have coffee on the patio again. No big plans today. Working retail means working holidays for the kids so they are working most of today and then are off in different directions to visit the "in laws". I may do some visiting later today but for now it's all about doing NOTHING ... ahhhhh.
Hope you all have a safe and wonderful Turkey Day!
Family Portrait In a moment as rare as a solar eclipse, Teddy doesn't run from the camera Judas through the Looking Glass? No, it just hasn't clicked for Judas that he's just too big to fit through the cat door anymore Judas watches Teddy in awe and wonders if it could be true what they say about blondes having more fun
As Thanksgiving approaches I find I have an awful lot to be really thankful for this year. We're only at the halfway point of fall and I'm ecstatic to report that my cup already runneth over.
#1 -- The potsticker -- who, as of today, has elbows and arms and is working diligently on developing feet and hands. (When you really think about it, it's just amazing how much can go absolutely wrong and yet how often it turns out absolutely right. Fingers crossed.
#2 -- The upcoming (really soon) marriage of my oldest kiddo.
#3 -- Small, manageable, albeit weekly, crises. Just a series of small deaths really; the Explorer's "oil sending unit" ($125), the clothes dryer ($85), the hot water heater ($0 and 3 days of no hot water), the Explorer's new cable and battery assembly ($500), the washing machine hose ($8 and a very wet garage), the laundry sink p-trap ($4), the cost of nothing major happening (priceless).
#4 -- Judging gigs every week for the past five weeks with one more to go and a champsionship nod. Woot! See you on the 50 ... for TWELVE hours :)
#5 -- Five confirmed assignments for CCGC. Another Woot!
My only Thanksgiving tradition since 1993 has been to dread, with every fiber of my being, the actual Thanksgiving holiday.
A dream is coming true sometime around July 1, 2009.
I'm going to be a Grandma!
Chris and Lindsey's bun is in the oven a mere 6 weeks into it's bake cycle. Right now he or she is doing their very best imitation of a potsticker. I cannot wait to meet this glorious, new, little person who will surely teach me things I don't know that I don't know and be a bright light in my life forever more.
No on 8 seems like a no brainer to me. I've watched the propaganda on YouTube and TV for both sides and I can't, I can't, I just can't, find anything that worries me, scares me or feels morally wrong about allowing same sex marriage. Quite to the contrary everything in me, right down to my bone marrow, says that voting yes is the wrong choice. I'm heartily disappointed to find so many people close to me that feel that a yes vote is the right vote. I wish I didn't know how they were voting because I will never be able to look at them the same way again without wondering what other prejudices they're secretly harboring. In my opinion, Yes on 8 thinking is the same kind of thinking that has held down people before based solely on gender, religion, color, etc.
I find it interesting that the argument I hear most in support of Yes on 8 is "why not just be happy with domestic partnership, cuz it's the same thing". Really? My question then would be, if domestic partnership is already the same thing as marriage then WHY NOT let them get married???? And please, don't throw the bible into it because, like it or not, this country has a separation between church and state. To some people, the bible is a pleasant story and nothing more and their right to think that way is guaranteed by the first amendment. Marriage, as it exists today, is a contract between partners and the state they live in. Romanticizing it is WONDERFUL for the wedding ceremony but romance is not the basis of marriage. Nor is the bible the basis of marriage today. If either of those were truly the basis of marriage then a covenant between partners (and their God if they have one) would be enough. There wouldn't be a need to pay a fee for a wedding license, have witnesses, divorce court, or an arbitrator/judge in your business when the love is gone. Marriage could be as simple as two people pledging themselves to one another in a park somewhere. But THAT'S not recognized as "legal" marriage now is it? Ever wonder why?
Marriage is the way it is so that the state can control the backlash when the relationship goes south. They decide what happens to property. They figure out who gets custody of the kids and who pays for them. In short, getting married is an open invitation to the state to get involved in your relationship ... and yet there are STILL people brave enough to want to get married ... and some of 'em just happen to be gay.
They want to get "married" for the same reasons the rest of us do. Because it's the ultimate seal couples can put on a deal. It's a strong, public, statement about the level of commitment and deep love between two people ........ and because they're entitled to enjoy the same freedoms the rest of us do. Domestic partnership is a fine way to handle the business end of a relationship, but it doesn't express the love or commitment between two people. Let's face it, it's an arrangement pretty much devoid of emotion (or ceremony) and so it's just not enough for some people ... and why should it be?
I've never understood why people get so passionate and work so hard to prevent someone else from doing something simply because they themselves don't like it, don't agree with it, don't need it, or don't understand it. Gay marriage, abortion, shoot even sex changes and permanent eye liner are all things I will never, ever have a use for but I would NEVER eliminate someone else's right to choose those things. I wouldn't because freedom and equality are the foundation on which our country is built. "We the people" are supposed to be prepared to defend our freedoms TO THE DEATH just like so many of those who came before us. Not give them up because we're afraid of terrorists, or child molesters, or drunk drivers, or spit on them because they inconveniently don't suit our own personal belief system. If freedoms can be taken away from someone else, then they can also be taken away from me ... and you.
What is to be gained by denying marriage to a large group of people, based solely on their sexuality?
I don't believe in fostering prejudice but I do believe, strongly, in equal protection under the law, so I will be voting NO on 8 and supporting freedom.
I'm totally enamored of my son's new puppy. If you've ever seen cute little puppies playing or sleeping together in the bottom of a cardboard box then you know how completely irresistable they are. So I couldn't really blame my son when he brought home this tiny little dog he'd adopted outside of the Safeway where he works. Chris didn't want me to say no to the puppy ... so he lied to me about the puppy's parentage.
Mom: "What kind of dog is he?" Chris: "He's a lab mix" Mom: "Mixed with what?" Chris: "I'm not sure"
I should have known by the name Chris chose for him ... Judas ... but it took me a few days to catch on to the fact that this teeny, little, beige, piglet-looking, puppy is a pitbull mix. Rut roh, right? His name is Sir Judas Bacon. The Bacon is for me because, initially, he looked like a baby pig. The Judas is for Chris because, of course, he needs a "pitbull" worthy name. Right? And the Sir is something the puppy has earned over the last few months since he joined the family. And he deserves it.
Of course the idea of having a pit scared me to death. I was sure that as soon as he got big enough he would eat my cat Motown, fight with my dog Teddy and bite my child's face off. I thought all that because I was as caught up in the hype as anybody else would be given what little most of us really know about this breed. So, secure in the knowledge that 1) mom would get stuck with some of the puppy responsibilities, 2) the puppy was small enough (for the time being) to drop kick if he got aggressive, and 3) he'd be moving out with Chris at the new year, I accepted him as our newest family member ... voila! ... and immediately got on the internet to educate myself for what was sure to come. I was intrigued, shocked, mystified and appalled with what I found there over the next few weeks.
Judas and I had a bit of rough start due much more to my ignorance than puppy error. I kept trying to master him mistakenly thinking I had to be tougher than him. Not so. All I really had to do was be a pack leader, give him a little respect and he fell right into line. I'm happy to say that I was as wrong as it was possible to be about this little dog. He is everything my internet research said he should be. His energy, his willigness to please, his gratitude for the smallest attention and affection, his intelligence, his loyalty and his ability to truly give and receive love outpace anything I've ever seen in a dog and has notched out for him a HUGE place in my heart. I have fallen for this pit and I will never look at pitbulls the way I used to again. They are special dogs. They're a little more than everything a dog should be. They are not the villains and monsters they've been portrayed to us to be. I've learned that the saying "it's not the breed, it's the owner" is not an excuse, it's the truth. (And I've learned that the NFL's Michael Vick should spend the rest of his life in jail -- but that's a story for another day.)
What I respect most about this breed is their "gameness" -- the willingness to see it through to the end no matter what (anyone who knows me will understand why that resonates with me so strongly). Admittedly that gameness is exactly what makes them excellent fighters ... but that gameness makes them excellent at whatever they're asked to do (fight, protect, sniff for drugs, cuddle). It's up to the owner ... which is why not everyone is a suitable owner.
In the category of "did ya' know" things that surprised me:
1. There are no less than 26 different breeds of dogs commonly mistaken as pitbulls. So not all "pitbull" attacks even involve pitbulls 2. The little dog in the shoe with Buster Brown is a pitbull 3. The #1 drug sniffing canine officer in US Customs is a pitbull 4. That cute little dog that belonged to the "Little Rascals" is a pitbull 5. That pits are used all over the world as service dogs, search and rescue dogs, and canine officers 5. That since the late 1800s and until just recently, pitbulls were the #1 trusted family dog 6. Do you know about BSL (Breed Specific Legislation)?. That dogs are being outlawed based solely on their looks and physical characteristics -- not on their temperment or their deeds? Don't we call that prejudice when we do it to people??? 7. Did you know that BSL includes not only pits, but german shepherds, chows (my gentle Teddy), rottweilers and dobermans --- yet, the number one biter in the US is the dalmation? 8. Did you know they've already been banned in the UK and New Zealand? 9. Did you know that the "dogmen" stay in the ring with their dogs and encourage them to fight? If that's not a strong testament to a pit's non-human agression/dog-only aggression than I don't know what is.
Here's three of the literally hundreds and hundreds of videos made all around the world on this breed in order to combat BSL (Breed Specific Legislation).
In my view, we're we're pointing an accusatory finger at the wrong end of the leash.
This morning I gathered my still-very-wet-from-the-shower-and-too-long-for-my-age hair into a pony tail and secured it with a scrunchy. I grabbed a pair of blue jeans and an orange t-shirt from my closet and threw those on while simultaneously stuffing my feet into my Land’s End Mary-Jane trekkers. Moving at the speed of a comet, I threw my phone, lunch, keys and outgoing mail into in my free-to-me-thanks-to-Office-Depot purse/briefcase/and everything else bag, struggled into a sweater while delicately balancing a coffee cup and threw myself into the driver’s seat a mere 20 minutes from the time my feet hit the floor this morning. Ten minutes later I was at my desk and ready to roll. This is my normal routine in the land of rednecks, and today I realized with a shock that it’s the identical routine my Mom had back in the 70s when she was a woman in a man’s job … back when I was taking at least an hour every morning making myself glamorous for high school boys of all things. I vividly remember giving my mom a hard time – all the time - about how she dressed, wore no make up, always wore tennies, blah, blah, blah. She always just laughed me off. What I didn’t know then is really just what I didn’t know then. That those precious extra ten minutes provided by the snooze button in your own warm bed are far sweeter than wearing mascara ever will be and that taking the time to start the dishwasher before you go to work makes your life exponentially easier than the time taken to struggle into panty hose ever will ...... and that shaving your legs really IS just for Saturday nights out and holidays.
Growing up, the one thing I never wanted to be was my Mom. Now that I’m grown, I'm puzzled that I EVER thought that way and only hope I turn out to be as terrific as my Mom.
Ironic.
I wish she were here cuz I think we’d have a really good laugh together over this.
Whoopty hoo, I got my assignments in an afternoon email.
11-Oct Field Vis - Merced 18-Oct Field Vis - Gilroy 25-Oct Field Vis - Modesto 1-Nov Field Vis - Independence 8-Nov Field Vis - Mission Viejo 15-Nov Field Vis - Madera
Today is the first day of fall ... hooray! I'm looking forward to cooler days, falling leaves, gray skies and the absence of the hum of the air conditioner.
Saturday with Golden Valley was really, really fun. The drive wasn't all that bad. The hotel was great. The rehearsal was over really quickly and I even found myself wishing I had more time to spend with them. They're going to be awesome this year.
I spent Sunday in putter mode and was really happy to have every window in the house wide open and some fresh, un-conditioned air for a change.
Today I've got my nose to the grindstone again and wondering where my WBA assignments are. Even wondering if I'm going to get any after all. The first show is Oct 11, so ..... maybe I'll have the fall free??? Hope not!
Not teaching at band camp this year was a little weird. Not marching this year was a little weird as well. Weirder still is how easy it was to get used to weekends off after my whirlwind adventures with Mandarins ended in mid-July. I can’t remember the last time I had this much time on my hands. I’ll tell you what though, my house is as clean as it will ever be and I have absolutely no clutter in my life … in so many ways. I’ve actually enjoyed the time away and I find it’s made me a lot less burned out and even a bit hungry for the activity again. I feel ready to get back to it … I think.
So I’m venturing out this weekend on my first guard-related excursion since last July and making the 5-hour (that’s right 5-hour) drive down to Merced to consult with Golden Valley again this year. I’m excited to go. I’m honored to be invited back. I’m happy the kids asked for me specifically. The long drive necessitates an overnight stay in that garden spot called Merced, courtesy of GV. It’s a touch of rock star status in an otherwise ordinary life, so I’m all over it. I’ll work with them on Saturday morning and still make it home for dinner on Saturday night. It's a shotgun blast of a trip that will still leave me free to be all day Sunday. It’s an easy way to get broken in again.
My second excursion back into the fray should be a WBA contest on 10/11 but since my schedule with them right now is just a series of “reserved and don’t forget it” Saturdays, I don’t know if 10/11 will actually pan out or not for me. I hope it, and the following six Saturdays all pan out but we’ll see. But my next hard-scheduled event is a band contest in Utah. You heard me right. Utah. I’m flying there in mid-October for the Rocky Mountain Invitational. I don’t know how they got my name but I’m really pleased to be invited ... despite the fact that the adventure begins with a turboprop plane out of Redding’s teeny-tiny airport ... I'm afraid I’ll arrive in Utah with gray hair and wrinkles from flight-fright. More on that adventure after it happens.
Working on the jobsite here in redneck country, I’ve gotten used to wearing nothing but ratty ol' jeans and tennis shoes. I guess I’ll have to knock the dust off some real shoes and dig out some grown up wear here in a bit. Then buy some batteries for my tape recorders and make sure I can locate that darned cord that connects my computer to my digital voice recorder. Oy Vey!
On August 24, my son Kevin and his lovely Devon stood in the middle of a bright, hot, sunny, Sunday morning and before an assemblage of their family and closest friends they earnestly swore to share every bit of themselves with each other, and only with each other, until their death. A weighty promise to journey together into an absolute unknown, the depths of which their young love can only begin to fathom.
As I listened to Kevin promise his life to Devon I felt a familiar sensation wash over me. The same sensation I got when I finally let go of Kevin’s hand so he could take his first steps, walk to school for the first time or drive away in his very first car. Every time that he and I have reached the junction where I have had to let go and hope that my words of wisdom and caution are enough and are still in his ear. And here we are once again at that junction.
As they exchanged vows over their rings their heartbreakingly sincere feelings for one another were there for everyone to read on their faces. I know their vows were spoken from the heart. But aren’t they always? I worried for them as only a heart scarred by a graceless world can worry. I know my path doesn’t have to be theirs. I know their story can be beautiful if they keep their wedding day fresh in their hearts and honor it by never letting go of each other for anything or anyone.
When the newest Mr.& Mrs. Montemayor turned to be introduced for the very first time, my thoughts swirled between wishing I could absorb some of their disappointments and hoping that I’ll have the good fortune to be there to share some their joys. As a mom I wish them every good thing possible. As a woman I selfishly count my blessings for I know their love will serve me too. I watched them walk down the aisle together smiling widely and gave only a cursory nod to the many, tiny, tragedies that I know will dot their life together and I silently sent a message to the angels to ask that those tragedies be far outweighed by great joy … and one more time, I let go and hoped my words of wisdom and caution were enough and were still in his ear.
I’m so powerfully proud of them both and I realize finally that the only thing that’s certain here is that I will do everything I can to help them keep their dreams alive and help them make their dreams come true. Some things don’t change.
It’s your story Kevin and Devon …I hope it’s legendary.
When one door closes another one opens. I know from experience that this is true.
Doors have been closed FOR me on a number of occasions and ALWAYS with unhappy, gotta-get-over-this results.
Doors have been closed BY me on occasion … with mixed results.
Just recently I’ve discovered doors can be stealthy little mofos that simply close themselves..
Surprise! Surprise!
Sometime between June 27 and July 1 my colorguard door quietly closed and the sound of the latch clicking went unheard.
Attributable to my life now being in Redding? To Kevin’s impending nuptials? To my reconnection with some past family members? To travel time? To rising gas costs? To all of the above? I guess the why is insignificant. That it happened at all is the significant part.
I think colorguard may be like perky boobs – that time has passed for me.
Or I'm just burned out???
All that’s left now is to see what’s behind the door that opens …
Like the twilight in the road up ahead they don't see just where we're goin' And all the secrets in the Universe whisper in our ears And all the years will come and go take us up always up We may never pass this way again
This morning, following a time-honored morning ritual, I had “Good Morning America” on in the background as I got ready for work. I do this because I like seeing what the weather is predicted to be, what I might expect to hear “at the water cooler” that day and what the top weird news of the day might be … that kind of thing. This morning my attention was grabbed by a commercial for “female replacement knees”. My immediate reaction was unbridled excitement “Wow, where can I get a pair” … and “gee, I didn’t realize knees weren’t gender specific already “… but I found the train of thought that followed that really pretty intriguing. If we're advertising replacement knees I can't help but wonder how far away we are from commercials advertising things like synthetic kidneys? This knee commercial sort of brings sci-fi movies in from the realm of the ridiculous and into the realm of hey just maybe. A commercial for a replacement knee might have been in the background of a sci-fi movie 20 years ago just to establish a futuristic mood ... but now here it is, really happening. Replacement knees are being advertised on TV! How far behind can commercials for personal clones be?
For me that commercial put a focus on the somewhat disturbing age-related advertising I've noticed recently. It seems that as the baby boomers age, advertising has taken on a somewhat surreal twist. Channel grazing recently I came across a commercial for what I thought was a cell phone ear piece. It was really small. It was really sleek. It was really sexy (whatever that means for an ear piece) and it came in a myriad of appealing, fun and fashion forward colors. Just as I got interested and was thinking "ooh this is seriously cute and I might want one" it turned out to be a “One Touch Ultra Mini” a device for checking your blood sugar. Oh my! Not that I might not need that someday ... but oh my! My mom was diabetic and her meters always had a definite medicinal quality to their design. I mean looking at it, you knew it was for medical purposes. Not so these little babies though. As I pondered that some more, I realized that everything for the aging is a little hotter, a little chicer and a lot cooler in design now that the hippies are moving into antiquity. For example knee braces have left their prosthetic-looking demeanor in the moth balls and even they are sports-oriented and somewhat "cool". Much like the cool little mobility scooters that are a cross between a wheelchair and a sports car. Some have a top speed of 25 mph ya' know. I think that’s fast enough to get bugs in your teeth isn’t it? How long do you think it will be before we see sleek and sexy matching helmets available at stores everywhere? They can merchandise those helmets right next to the new and colorful “readers” for the presbyopic, the “personal listening devices” for the audio-challenged and the Dr. Scholl’s gellin’ inserts for plain old aging feet. They can dedicate entire grocery store aisles to the aging soon. Makes one think doesn't it? I think we all need to pool our resources and launch a line of matching, hot, racing gloves before Dr. Scholl's crew thinks of it!!!
This shift in advertising, this comfort discussing things medicinal in nature during prime time, has extended itself to commercial blitzes on topics once regarded as somewhat unsavory in mixed company. For example, right smack in the middle of “Grey’s Anatomy last week here’s a Viagra commercial "so I’m ready when the time is right”. Hmmm, let me think. Do I really want a mental image of the graying, yet fit, couple I’m watching in the commercial getting it on once their college-age kids surprise visit is finally over? Uh, no. And how about all those commercials about bladder control? Good Lord it's difficult to converse with another adult woman without wondering if she might be quietly peeing her pants in my presence. It makes the fact that we once relegated something as innocuous as denture creme to commercial time slots only during “The Price is Right” really dumb. Now we happily eat dinner to embarrassing ads for personal lubricants. Who wudda' thunk it? I have to wonder if Gen X will expand on this new liberal advertising philosophy of products for the old folk OR if it will all slide quietly back into the closet when the boomers have finally gone bust and the young can finally take over the world.
Now where did I put that coupon for “Depends” anyway?
(no grandparents were harmed in the writing of this blog)
... and as my little rookies hit the road this July 10th, I can't help but wonder what they'll find out about each other and themselves during this, relatively short but (trust me), life-changing adventure on which they're about to embark. It makes me reflect on my first tour of my rookie year.
1973
Davenport, Iowa –After several days of pb&j and cold cereal in a Dixie cup, the corps went to Bishop’s for dinner. Real food and fresh fruit -- each table had a little lamp on it that would bring the waitress running if you turned it on and they had self-cleaning toilet seats that whooshed up into an ultra-violet light chamber as soon as you stood up. After dinner my friend Ann Miller and I squeeze in a trip to the five-and-dime across the street for who knows what and end up getting back to the buses just in time to inhale the diesel fumes as they pull away. We jump and holler but only succeed in getting most of the snare line to wave amiably at us from the back window (and the seed of doubt regarding the intelligence of drummers, in general, plants itself in my little brain). At 18, Ann was 2+ years older than me and a vet. This made her an unquestionable authority in all things as far as I was concerned. She called the police, who picked us up and gave us a ride directly to the school. Whew! Thought we made it. Then I see GR waiting for us at the end of the school's driveway. No words. He just escorted us to the field where the corps was already an hour deep into rehearsal. We were late (a major sin) and wearing flip flops (a bigger sin). I remember wishing that the earth would simply open up and swallow me. Our guard captain made the evening a memorable one for us ... and I saw my very first firefly that night while doing a 30-minute mark time.
Great Bend, Kansas – I realize with horror that I've just left my full uniform bag hanging on the bleachers at the housing site we’re pulling away from. I sweat bullets for the entire bus ride to the rehearsal/show site praying someone picked it up for me. As soon as we arrive I go to my guard captain seeking help … and she tells me to talk to Royer ... omg. So I delay. I waited through the entire pre-show rehearsal block, dreading having to tell him, before I finally, finally realize I have no choice except to either make myself wildly popular by marching the show in a t-shirt, spankies and white marching boots ... or go to him and confess. I still remember what the grass patch looked like that I stared at the entire time I explained my problem to him. I don’t remember exactly what he said but I do remember his hand was very heavy on my shoulder and the words “dumb shit” were used. He’d seen my bag and put it under the bus and had, all day, just been watching me sweat. I learned that day that no matter how bad you screw up, they can’t kill you and eat you. You’ll just wish they had.
LaCrosse, WI – we’re there to make the McCormick film and march a show. We’re staying in the dorms at the University. It was a big deal and huge treat because we have unprecedented time off, no chaperones and only two rules for the four days we’re there … #1 Be at rehearsals on time, in top-top form and, #2 make sure we make lights out (the main doors lock at midnight). To give you an idea what those four days were like ... LaCrosse was the spot where I sat at a bar for the very first time and got served an alcoholic beverage – a pink lady followed by a boil maker (okay 4) ... and I'm 15 ... a regular prodigy as I've learned with very little coaching how to stumble back to my room by midnight and get into bed without throwing up. It's a skill I still value today. It's our last night there and I’m awakened by this little click, click, click sound. It’s about 1am and my sleepy brain thinks the sound is rain hitting the window. Then it dawns on me that someone’s throwing things at my window … so I get up and go to the window and look down from the second floor to see my friend standing on the sidewalk below and pleading pathetically to be let in. He's a friend, so I sneak downstairs very carefully, employing my best ninja skills, cross the big, dark, empty lobby and open the main door as quietly and carefully as I can ... to Mr. Royer ... and he has his arm around my friend's shoulder. I don’t know what transpired on the other side of the door to put he and I in this situation, but that story “The Lady and The Tiger” always reminds me of this event.
Ah, drum corps ... where you learn life lessons that have absolutely nothing to do with drum corps.
I hope my little rookies have as much fun, learn as much and make as many life long friends on their first tour as I did on mine.
I've recently discovered that I am exactly like that girl that Billy Joel is singing about when he says "she'll only reveal what she wants you to see". My family, my very few friends, my various coworkers and my veritable army of acquaintances all know me as someone just a little different. When I am at work I am different than when I am with real friends. I am not the same person at work that I am at home ... and vice versa (and thank goodness) ... and so on and so on and so on, ad infinitum.
My epiphany has come about as the result of my "worlds" colliding far too frequently. As more and more people I work with run into people I love, or judge, or teach ... or despise. Each time it happens I feel momentarily awkward. Downright naked even. This awkwardness isn't based in fact or any type of real logic (and because so much of what I do isn't this just shouldn't surprise me, geez) ... it's really just a feeling. I've always been a self-described "onion" and have been content with that to a large degree, but even I didn't realize how many layers I'd developed over the years until people from all over my life started wandering into each other and comparing notes.
Maybe no one person will ever know all my layers. Maybe I'll never know all my layers. Or just maybe that bit of self discovery is the exact point of having lived at all. I guess I'll find out because now that I'm aware that I've been unconciously "packaging" myself for my different "audiences" I've had to also embrace the realization that it's a lot of damn work! Fact is it's just too much work and it's making me old and tired so I'm electing to stop it ... right now ... cold turkey. From this moment on I'm doing myself a big favor and committing to being only one person instead of one person at a time. So please don't be hurt, or surprised, or mad if I'm a WYSIWYG (aka wizzywig) or "what you see if what you get" ... it's absolutely intentional. Having acknowledged my own facade, I won't now sacrifice my new-found self even if it means I may seem utterly, blatantly, and rudely truthful at times. Maybe this will make me unpopular. Maybe it won't. Either way it's okay ... such is life ... and real friends will be able to deal with it. Anyone who can't shouldn't let the door hit them on their way out. I'll make this small sacrifice for increased sanity, and anyway, the older and meaner I get the more I realize that I can do with less and less ... of everything actually.
Call it silly, call it selfish or decide not to call it, or me, at all, it's okay. I think I'll call it finally growing up and accepting myself, warts and all, and being happy with the real me.
I've never much liked the Beatles. I guess I was too young or too immature or too .... I dunno' something ... to appreciate them when they came along. Or maybe not enough of something else. Maybe I wasn't cool enough ..... but I never liked them. I became aware of them in the 7th grade only because a girl in my journalism class had her entire Science binder covered with pictures of John Lennon she'd cut out of teen magazines. She couldn't believe it when I told her that I'd never had a crush on Ringo, George, John or Paul... ok maybe the teeniest, tiniest one on Paul from when I saw him on Ed Sullivan but I wasn't going to confess that to this girl. I despised her AND the Beatles at that point. But really I just didn't get them. Conversely I had Herman's Hermits records (yes records, large round disks of pressed vinyl that played sounds when you pulled a needle through their grooves) that I played over and over and over til I knew every syllable about "Mrs. Brown's Lovely Daughter". Herman's Hermits are gone but the Beatles live on. More evidence that all my taste is in my mouth.
Along that same vein, I never liked, or understood, John Lennon. Now that I'm older I sort of feel that I missed the boat there. After ignoring him for 40+ years, I now find that a lot of what he had to say in his songs really touches me in my, now mature, soul. As a young adult I couldn't "imagine" all those things he wanted me to see. But right now ... as I wonder about what to "give" when something has to "give" ...
well ...
I find myself thinking about stepping off the merry go round.
Elk Grove Winterguard 2008 -- March 2008 -- about a month before they placed 6 out of 19 at NCBA Championships. We all learned something about ourselves and each other :)
Ok, ok … so I’ve been lousy at keeping the blog current. Life got in the way. Gee whiz! Lately I’ve been running pretty fast. It’s all due to obligations at work. I finally moved to Redding on 4/7 but between then and January 3rd I’ve been making the Redding Holiday Inn home base. It had its good parts and its bad parts. Good parts = eating out every night on an expense report. Bad parts = picking up some 15 pounds from eating out every night on an expense report. Good parts = no house work. Bad parts = nothing to putter amongst. So the door has finally been closed on my days as a hotel resident. I’m back to some normal routines and some normal digs and I’m glad. I got a little house this go-round instead of an apartment and that’s turned out to be a blessing is so many ways. I’d forgotten that as convenient as apartment life can be, it’s very miniaturized. I’m enjoying my extra space … which I totally recognize will not be enough space by the end of the lease. It’s the way of the world, the nature of the beast, a fact of life. For now, it’s bliss when I open a closet I forgot I even had. And sometimes I find myself just standing in front of my newest big purchase … my shiny white refrigerator ... and just clapping my hands with glee.
January to April: in a nutshell as small as my old apartment. - I taught a lot of colorguard - I judged a lot of colorguard - I got paid more than I deserve for both - I watched a lot of really bad colorguard (and the checks made up for that so I guess I deserved them after all) - I cut and pasted my entire life into Redding - Wrecked my kid’s vehicle and got a new-to-me vehicle - I made friends, left friends, influenced people, pissed off people and, in general, left my normal ginormous carbon footprint on everything I came in contact with. C’est la vie.
I’ve changed virtually every aspect of my personal life in the last 90 days. Some people kill themselves over less stress. Now I understand what a steel magnolia really is. Who knew?
Still and all ...a big shout out to God and his Angels for their twisted but numerous kindnesses. Two thumbs up! This time when I went into the tornado I emerged intact and in the magical land of Oz for a change. Hooray for me!
And that’s all I have to say about that. Now it’s onward to summer.
I’ve been to a Mandarins camp or two now and have found my place there. It’s different, and yet it’s the same, and I find that, for the most part, I really enjoy just about everything about it. I’m looking forward to the California shows and just found out today what my tour involvement will be. I’m pretty excited for all that’s yet to come this summer in my colorguard world and my real world.
In the meantime, I really like Redding. I finally figured out that the reason I like it is because it’s a lot like the world was in the early 80s … slower, nicer and cleaner …and I make sense here.
<------- and this is a big part of why. For the last month I’ve been working at Kitchell’s job site at Mercy Med Center in Redding 3 or 4 days a week … and it looks like I’ll be relocating up there sometime in the near future … and should be there until 2011 or thereabouts. Actually not blogging is a good sign because I generally talk to my blog when I’m unhappy ... so hey! … maybe I’m having a run of happiness. Shhhhhhh!
Seriously though life has been really good lately … so good it’s a bit boring really. Family life is good, finances are improving and work is good. All is well in my little world and that's a big deal.
Redding is very pretty. Lakes, creeks, rivers and the mountains everywhere you look. There’s every kind of shopping and eatery you could ask for … and surprise, surprise, it snows there just enough to be pretty without being an inconvenience. It’s close to every kind of water sport for summer and skiing in the winter … and I know it sound incredibly hokey and un-Jojo like but the people there are universally nice … seriously. It’s a very relaxing environment that has a slower rhythm and I think that’s what makes it easy for people to just be kind to one another. I’m looking forward to the move. In fact, the sooner, the better. Being stretched between two places makes me largely ineffective in both if you know what I mean.
I had a recent bout of temporary insanity that was cured by reconnaissance mission reports from fellow solider and trusted buddy Di, who bravely went to Renegades camp last weekend ... thanks to her I’m sane again and perfectly content to be a spectator. Just as well because incredibly I am STILL recovering from my attempted space launch. I think the damage to my left shoulder and tailbone may be permanent. Egads. Moving in certain directions STILL takes my breath away.
I’ve judged a couple of shows …one not so well … the other much better. The first gig was in Fresno … about 46 colorguards … I lost control about half way through it and it was real fight to manage the numbers til the end. Because of the size of those shows number management is always a challenge but WGI’s new philosophy, and the elimination of block scores, made it more of a challenge than usual. The next show was in Bakersfield … a new circuit for me and a tremendously long way to travel to judge by the way ... too long I’ve decided ... but I’m glad for the chance to have stretched out. I admit I was nervous when I got there but I “fell back on my technique” so to speak and did just fine. The next show for me is another Fresno gig, followed by a Modesto gig, followed by Leigh ... a weekend trifecta ... I love those because they always help me establish my “groove” as it were. I’m really looking forward to it all but I have a lot of homework I have to do to prepare ... and very little time to do it in.
Tonight is the last rehearsal for the Elkies before their first show on Saturday at Rodriguez. Here’s the thing ... the show is a minute short ... we haven’t seen the floor yet ... or the inside of a gym ... and we just got our prop materials dropped off last night. So tonight’s rehearsal will be about putting a quickie ending on the show (or finding a logical place to just stop, although I prefer the former over the latter), getting the girls on and off the floor and hopefully incorporating the floor into the show. I’m opting not to use the props this weekend. I think that’s too much and a big neon invitation for trouble ... so that’s that. The upside is there’s absolutely no danger that we’ll be moved up ... lol ... and that’s good. More on that front AFTER the upcoming weekend.
I think my angels are doing an outstanding job this past month
I pushed the snooze button one too many times this morning … okay two too many times … anyway I was rushing as I headed out the door today … one moment I was on the stairs and the next I was looking at the sky, wondering what just happened … and then thinking ...
ooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.
I know my right heel was the culprit. I think it stepped on a wet leaf and launched me straight into outer space. I landed, splat, right on the back of my ribcage and head. Hard … and then slid down about eight steps … because my hands were full and I couldn’t stop myself.
It was a truly Three Stooges moment.
I laid there for several moments taking inventory. Realizing nothing was permanently broken I lamely began to wonder if any of my neighbors saw my Sputnik launch imitation.
I then briefly contemplated whether or not saving money at Payless-Shoe-Source was really “saving” me anything at all.
I will be home on the couch for the next 36 hours sucking up Aleve and wishing there was an at home, over the counter, version of a morphine drip available at my local pharmacy.
It’s raining today and the wind is blowing so hard that it’s finally blown ALL the leaves off ALL the trees in ALL of Sacramento … and onto the legs of my beige slacks as I walked from the parking lot to the front door of my office building this morning. Charming.
I’m still looking for my holiday mood to emerge. Confusing because my little tree is up and decorated, I’ve donated my unwrapped toy to Toys for Tots, I’ve dropped a $20 in the Salvation Army bucket, I have presents figured out and a whirlwind shopping extravaganza planned for this Saturday, the weather is doing its part nicely and I’ve gathered an impressive collection of holiday goodies from coworkers and clients. So (swings head back and forth) where’s my holiday mood? I’m thinking once I leave work this Friday and am looking at twelve uninterrupted days of holiday “cheer” ahead of me at home watching cheesy holiday movies and drinking chai lattes that the planets will align properly and the holiday mood will envelope me like a warm slipper. Well, it better >(
Last week I had a turn and burn to Phoenix for a company meeting. It now feels like a dream that I couldn’t remember once I woke up. I believe the reason I’ve “forgotten” the whole day is because I really thought I was going to die on the plane ride home. I’m so serious. It was raining heavily the entire way and it’s the first and only time I was certain that the plane I was on was going to fall out of the sky like a rock. White-knuckle ride doesn’t begin to cover it ... and it wasn't just me ... lots of folks were white-knuckling it. The captain told us “don’t worry” so many times I wanted to kick him in his cock … pit door. Some lady a few seats in front of me actually had to be sedated by an attendant. I took to sedating myself with a couple of free drink coupons until the captain told the flight attendants to discontinue the beverage service and strap in … and 30 minutes or so later when the plane suddenly lost a lot of altitude really suddenly I’m pretty sure everyone on board was wishing they had clean underwear in their carry on. Future flying is a necessity of life … so … much like child birth, dentist drills and income tax I’ve chosen to banish the memory so that life can go on … at least for now. Needless to say I’m not looking forward to my next flight … and screw the free drink coupons … next time I want a Southwest Valium before take off!
I spent last Saturday relaxing in Redding on Di’s couch and chatting with her and Ross. We played games and drank hot chocolate and ate way too much edamame (however you spell that) and before I knew it, it was time to drive home. It was a nice relaxing day with good friends and a gentle launch into the holidays. The drive was well worth the company.
On Sunday we had our first Elkies winterguard camp and an ab-fab time. I love camps as opposed to 3-hour rehearsals because there’s less pressure which means more time to be creative, more to laugh and bond and more time to let the natural learning and development process happen instead of force-feeding them stuff. We had fun finding the groove and the personality of the song as well as the performers. We managed to put together about a minute of the opening already and yet have several “tricks” up our sleeve to incorporate. Suddenly I find myself worried that the song is too short. A common freaky worry = no problem. There are two rehearsals to get through before the long Christmas break so we’ll probably add another minute or so at those. The challenge then will be for them to all still remember it when they come back in January. Fingers crossed.
The Elkies are repeating their Christmas concert this Friday for “the entire school OMG” … at least that’s how the message was relayed to me. The girls are pretty excited to have a chance to do it again and they understand that this is a terrific opportunity to recruit for the guard and grow their program …. well, and to sport their skin tight unitards in front of the football team … ahhh young love. Anyway, the two performances they did for their parents netted them a lot of parental tears, pats on the head and whispers of “you were so great”. That was the goal. Mission accomplished!
Last night I visited the incredible shrinking Stubert. Have I mentioned how proud I am of him!! We snatched bits of Terri’s baking projects as I gave him a bleach renewal, then we pondered winterguard music arrangements and finally settled down to watch some wg videos for inspiration in front of his really big, really big, REALLY big, Christmas tree. I left way too late and am paying the price today with the sandman sitting on the bridge of my nose.
This past weekend I donned my clinicians’ hat and made the 5 hour round-trip journey to Hollister to spend the afternoon with the kids from San Benito’s guard. I had a good time and I hope they did too. The rest of the weekend was about household puttering and nonsense. The only stand out event of my entire weekend may in fact be the stand out event of my entire month … year … decade????
So I’m driving down Highway 5 at about 10:30 Saturday morning and I’m on that part of the 5 between Sacramento and Galt where the highway narrows from three lanes to two. I’m in the fast lane as it merges with the center lane. Me and everyone else in my lane quickly outpaces the vehicles in the slow lane and in really short order I’m passing a semi truck. Just after I’ve passed it, it toots at me … not a menacing honk … just a short little toot. Automatically I look in my rear view and there’s this bright red, uncommonly shiny, in fact positively gleaming, semi truck. All I can see through the truck’s front windshield is the driver’s right palm giving me a friendly wave … everything else is dark. Hmmmm. I give it about 30 seconds of real thought as I speed down the road … the palm was pretty big so it must have been a man, maybe he felt like I cut him off, maybe he likes blondes, maybe he honks at all the blue cars, maybe he’s tooting at someone else, who knows … now back to my regularly scheduled brain chaos. 30 minutes down the road I’ve forgotten totally about the truck as I hit Stockton and decide to pull off at Hammer Lane and fill up the tank. It’s about 10 minutes later before I get back on the road again. I’ve driven about a mile or so, deep in thought about who knows what, when I hear that toot behind me again …. I check the rear view and, sure enough, it’s that same shiny red truck and that same palm waving at me. My first thought is how did I pass that truck without noticing it. It’s so incredibly shiny!
Now I’m a bit freaked out and start thinking about the opening scenes from many a scary movie. What are the chances of that shiny red truck remembering my little blue car from 30 minutes further north? What are the chances that the guy driving honks at all the blue cars? What are the chances that the guy honks at all the blondes? What are the chances that this person knows me???????????
Had it not been for the fact that I was running late I would have slowed down and taken the time to see who it was … is … were … whatever (which is exactly what all the dumb white girls in scary movies do and they all end up dead).
So, maybe I should be glad that I was pressed for time and had to put the pedal to the metal.
Or, maybe I should be remorseful that I’ll never hook up with that long lost cousin who was trying to flag me down.
Or maybe my guardian angel was just sending me a friendly hello … or detouring me from certain disaster … twice.
As it is now, all I can do is wonder about it … forever.
So my good buddy Stu came through a risky, life-changing, event with flying colors this week despite a scary-for-him-and-for-all-of-us-not-there event. He’s a trooper that one and I’m really proud of the him for having a huge stainless steel set and taking this chance on a whole new existence. I would say he’s lucky, but the truth is that he genuinely deserves it and I couldn’t be more excited if it had happened to me.
Love you buddy .... and posting this photo is my way of encouraging you to get well so you can kick my ass.
... and so much that's happened since I had a real chance to write it all down … so … from the not so fresh to the fresh ...
WBA CHAMPIONSHIPS WEEKEND Saturday morning, 6am and it’s time to fly and I’m not excited about going at all. Rut roh. I’d been burning my candle at both ends all Fall and I was feeling like it had caught up with me just a couple of days too early. I was so prepared for this show that I kind of peaked too early in the season?!? Once I got on board the plane and saw Southwest’s “Spirit” magazine cover though my own spirits were seriously lifted. Southwest’s “Spirit” magazine this month (quarter?) has a sizeable article about BOA and marching band in it and reading it infused me with a sufficient amount of excitement and happiness for the upcoming weekend. (I stole the magazine off the plane so I could share it with the newbs later … hee).
The weekend went seamlessly. No delays. No missed rides. No stuck tapes. No dead batteries. An intact 100% accountability on the DVR. Fabulous for once! I did all of the 1A bands at prelims and had anticipated that being kind of a drag … surprise, surprise … I genuinely enjoyed them all. The sun was out, the air was crisp and the field vibe was fierce. I fed off the kid’s championship excitement. 13 bands total and it all went by really, really fast. Immediately afterwards I checked my phone for messages and had one from my over-excited newbs screaming at me that they “took 1st place at the parade!!”. Happy news. Later that day I found out the kids cracked an 81 at the field show that night. Hooray! I’m glad their season ended on a high note. I stayed and watched the rest of prelims with my very good friend Alton. That night over cocktails I not only caught up with friends and had a good time but also made a few good new connections that I hope will help further my goals in the land of judging.
I was happy that the only downer was at the tail end of the weekend when I had plenty of time to handle it – my flight home out of Burbank was cancelled due to fog and then my rebooked flight was delayed due to fog so I had about two extra hours at the airport to watch some lady use nursing her baby as an excuse for public nudity, see some stealth-lacking moron pick his nose and wipe his big ol’ booger under his seat, hear the woman next to me unapologetically loudly fart out a stink bomb … it was as indecorous and ill-mannered an environment as I could imagine any 3rd world country sporting and it brought to mind the saying “familiarity breeds contempt” … a big OH YEAH to that one. I also couldn't help but understand where Europeans get the idea that Americans are so lacking in intelligence and decorum. I'm sure "we" do these things in international airports too. Good grief. Where have manners gone anyway? I was relieved when they finally called the A group to board and thankful to have a drink coupon in my hand and an entire 3-row seat to myself. I must really be getting old and crotchety.
THANKSGIVING WEEKEND I didn’t realize how I was missing family time until I had some this weekend. Time spent with family and friends made for a really nice Thanksgiving weekend and more than compensated for what was a stressful work week leading into the long weekend.
Went to the movies with the whole family and saw “The Mist” (which I’ve been dying to have made into a film for about ten years now … ever since I read Stephen King’s original story). Here’s an unqualified “Go see the movie” recommendation. It’s a very worthwhile two hours of entertainment. Nightmare inducing for kids though … well and maybe for you adults too!
I had a great time working off Thursday’s huge intake of really good food (made even better because I didn’t cook it) at Friday night’s first ever “Trifecta Colorguard” rehearsal. Afterwards a group of us hit Chevy’s and it was there that I finally let go of the stress of the work week and started looking forward to the long weekend.
Saturday morning it was rise and shine pretty early to go meet Trifecta again to decorate Stubert’s truck (which carried our music) and compete in Trifecta’s debut performance at the Downtown Sacramento Santa Parade. I have no idea how we placed but I had an ab-fab time with good friends. It reminded me of how joyful performing is for me and it felt like the start of a truly great yearly tradition …. Oh, and for the second year in a row …
I missed seeing Santa come to town >(
Saturday night I got a terrific email about my WBA judging efforts that quite simply made me giddy <$1 to Stu>. I guess I’m still floating on that cloud a little even today.
On Sunday I cooked our family Thanksgiving meal at home and we watched PPV movies together back to back …. it was a very good, high-relaxation, afternoon and evening.
I slept a lot this weekend. Pretty much fell out every time I sat down. Triptophane combined with my free-to-me-thanks-to-Stu couch and a case of the sniffles is a really dangerous combination but I feel really good today so I guess I must have needed it.
So now it’s onto the winterguard season. My calendar is already bulging like a teenager’s muffin top outta’ her jeans with judging gigs and teaching commitments. Teaching wise I currently have a winterguard to teach, another one that Stu and I may work on together and a clinic to do. Judging wise I have 13 confirmed assignments with a possible 2-5 more yet to come … AND I’m excited to have been invited to be part of the new Bakersfield WGI circuit getting started this year. I have two fly-to assignments there as well.
First on my list of priorities is to put together a short Christmas concert piece for my Elkies. My mood says it’ll be something pretty and emotional that befits the holiday season … something with swing flags … a piece they can really knock out of the park for their parents. I like doing these concerts because they always get me in a holiday mood and, they have the added benefit of getting the kid’s bonded and confident before we really get invested in our winterguard season.
Similar to my plans for the kids Christmas concert, our winterguard show is going to be “interesting” and something with which they can hit a homerun … and by that I don’t necessarily mean “win” … it’ll be a homerun if it builds the kid’s skills, makes them better performers and makes the guard attractive to other kids making them want to join … all of that ultimately culminating in a bigger, stronger, and more importantly, sustainable program. Never mind the sheets, the scores, the judges or the parents for now. It’s all about the kids and the learning process. So we’re using Blue October’s “Into the Ocean” and, if the fates allow, we’ll have about 20 feet of really cool painted back drops and even be “underwater” at one point. Cross your fingers.
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