I'm A Believer

First off, I’ll go ahead and admit it; I’m not a good traveler. I mean like, from the time the planning begins. I like schedules. I like knowing that while not every single solitary second is filled with an activity, that if I am traveling eight plus hours, one way,  to a desired destination, that I will be able to see everything and everyone that I would like to see. Do everything that I would like to do so that no time is wasted or conversations about what I wish I had done were had later. Like on the eight hour drive back home.

I’m not a good packer. For a three day event I take enough of everything to survive in the wilderness for a month. I could clothe and feed a third world with all the extra clothes and snack foods I pack. But you have to be prepared.  You never know what may happen. What event may pop up that you might need that sequined party dress to wear, or who may ask you to go fishing in which you would need that SPF 50 sunscreen and the tackle box you packed with all your other amenities.  No, you don’t have any of those things on your schedule, but you just never know.

I always reserve a hotel room that has a refrigerator and microwave. I like to have drinks on hand that are already cool and don’t cost $5.00 a bottle from the hotel vending machine.  And I must have a room with a King Daddy Dog air conditioner unit. It must blow like the artic wind 24/7. However, no hotel room is ever the same, nor is their air conditioning units, so I also try and always take my own box fan. I do this for the noise it creates which is an awesome aphrodisiac for sleeping, as well as the extra cool air it provides.  

I tend to whine a bit about the driving part. Any trip over three hours and you can count on it. Everything gets sore and begins to hurt, multitudes of restroom stops must be made, and a constant barrage of “how much longer will it be now” questions continue so much so that I am sure there are times my husband wishes he had strapped me to the top of our vehicle; or wonders at what point his wife turned into a five year old.

We attended my bonus granddaughters wedding this past weekend in Lake City SC. It is an eight hour drive from Quincy Florida. Everything I described above happened; and then some. But the minute she came down that aisle, everything else disappeared.  I realize I am partial when I say, she is the most beautiful bride I have ever seen; but she was. We had a wonderful time and were able to see a lot of family that are not normally seen on regular visits. So much so, that the eight hour drive back home, was hardly noticed at all.

As I listened to them say their vows, with all the earnestness that comes with being young and so in love, it made my heart feel so good. It made me feel so good about life, and what it holds for those two young people. When you see that kind of love on the faces of people you love, who could ever question that the world is in good hands with the youth of today. As the minister pronounced them man and wife, the music begin to play. I was both stunned by its originality and its appropriateness. As they all but skipped down the aisle, their faces beaming, the speakers blared with I’m A Believer (Then I saw her face, I’m a Believer) by the Monkees. If that’s not the perfect end to a new beginning I don’t know what is.

The 21st Century Devil Comes With A Keyboard

Not to give too much away here, but I learned to type on a manual typewriter when I was in high school.  The television in our home was still operating off of a dial antenna, everybody still had album record players, and if you had an 8 track tape installed in your vehicle for easy music listening, man alive, you were in high cotton!

I held jobs all though high school and after, but my first “real” job in an office setting turned out to be quite the experience. In 1986 I worked as a customer service representative and my job was to take payments and enter applications on the computer.  That part of my job didn’t feel all that foreign I guess; but the fax machine, ah…that little dilly of a deal threw me for a loop! It took me several days to understand why the paper I kept feeding it, to go somewhere else, was coming back to me. In my mind, if it kept coming back, it never made it to where it was going. I would put it back in and send it again, and again. Until finally, someone who had received that paper about twenty times, called, and asked me to stop. That story is probably still being told somewhere by someone.

Now that everything we do seems to involve technology it shouldn’t seem like such a shock I guess. We have been moving towards this hard and fast for the past forty plus years. Telephones, cell phones, DVD players, Blu-Ray Players, Skype, and Face-Time.  With the highest grade cell phones and the picture programs that go with them, who needs a camera anymore? With the various social networks, you can see and talk to people you haven’t seen in forever and capture twenty missing years in one afternoon sitting.

But to have all of these things, you must make yourself vulnerable. You must allow your name, your “secret” password, your face, and other pertinent information be all but broadcast to the world. We are told of security’s set in place, but how real is that I ask you?

Three weeks ago my email account and my social network accounts were hacked within one week of each other. Some maniac wreaked havoc on all my email contacts and sent gosh awful things to all kinds of people. Not only that, but the hackers actually got into my computer and shut it down. I had to pay $200 to get it cleaned up and back on line.

As much as I ranted and raved during all of that, I could hear in the back of my mind, my Daddy telling me years and years ago, that all of this technology, this invasion of privacy, was not good and would catch up with us all one day. I am beginning to think my Daddy in all his infinite wisdom may have been right. There is a clan of tech savvy devil’s out there somewhere, stalking and planning an attack on your email or worse maybe even your back account.

P.S. If some genius could just create a one minute window to “snatch back” texts that are sent to the WRONG PERSON..now THAT is something worthy of creating.  Not that I know anything about that sort of thing.

Parenting 101 ....TakeTwo

I have no idea how I got to this point in my life, yet here I am. My children are almost grown. One is just starting college; the other has just completed Graduate School.  My children are nine years apart in age so I have lived quite the glory land with both of them.  Except for about nine years in between, they were both able to experience being an only child. And I have been able to experience motherhood with a child still at home, headed into my Fifties.

The curve ball to all of this is that if my children are almost grown, and I am almost fifty, well then my parents are well into their seventies. There within lies the Catch 22. I like everyone else my age that is lucky enough to still have both parents living, is also experiencing another “parenting” experience of a whole different kind. Some days, I am the parent to four individuals instead of two.

Years ago I watched my Father help complete his Father’s life in his last years. It’s difficult to help people that have always been strong and independent. Because even when they are no longer either of those things, somewhere in their minds, in spits and sputters of time, they still are and they resent being treated as if they are any less.

They learn to deceive, evade and avoid all questioning. They hide information to protect you and in their minds, to protect themselves. They don’t want to be “tended” to, and they would rather that you mind your own business. They know what to ask at their doctors’ appointments, they do not need reminders from us.

It’s a tightrope that I walk. Show concern, but not too much, ask questions, but not delve too deep, to show compassion without it appearing to be pity; and to know that my day will be here soon enough. Will I be as difficult? Most likely. Will I demand respect? Absolutely. Will my children be able to handle it? I’m hoping how they were raised will shine through at a time when it may be needed the most.

It's Never Really Over

The New BobCats... Season 2013

Looking for a place to park is always easy. I’m always early. I get out of my truck, walk down the street, and take my place in line. Finally, it’s my turn, greetings all around; I pay, and move on. I glance up to search out my “regular” spot to sit, and it’s empty. I had wondered if it would be, or if someone else would have already taken my place. 

Suddenly the all too familiar smells both assault my nose and bring it pleasure, all at the same time.  Fresh cut grass, smoke rolling from a grill, and popcorn exploding in a machine not too far in the distance.

Then I hear grunts, and groans, and shouting.  I turn around and there they all are, dressed out in their uniforms, spread out like an army, and ready to rumble. They’re on the field, warming those muscles up, getting ready for the first game of the year, the Fall Football Jamboree. 

I climb the steps to my old seat in the bleachers. They are made of aluminum and on a hot August night, they will be warm to the bare legs. I always sit at the tip top because if there is ever a going to be a breeze that might be the only place you feel it. 

My camera in tow, I settle in, start framing shots, and look for my target. It’s then that my mind finally understands, he’s not out there. My son wrapped up his high school football career last year. It seems unreal to me that it has really happened and the emptiness that I have already felt several times over begins to set in. So many things have changed, and yet life still moves on. 

I may not have a “dog in this fight” anymore, but I still know plenty of the other young men who are coming up, and taking the place of all the others gone before them. It’s a fresh new season and I know a lot of Mama’s who will be proud that I’m here with my camera and ready to help create memories.  I’m not quite ready to hang up my Pom Pom’s yet. I think you have to kind of wean yourself off of these things. Well, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. 

I Don't Care What They Say, I Am Not Getting Rid Of My Truck

Is there anyone else out there, that no matter what it is, it never turns out right the first time? No matter how much you call yourself preparing. Getting all the necessary information. Making sure you have all the details that can possibly be provided so that NOTHING GOES WRONG. Well HELLO, I am that person.

I am alone this week at work. And if there is ever a time, when weird things happen, it will be, when the new girl is left alone. I get a call from my boss that a deposit needs to be made. Well alright, that sounds simple enough. That would have been the first time I would be wrong that afternoon.

My company currently banks with an establishment that no longer has a location in Quincy. To make this deposit I must go to Tallahassee. I must be there by four o'clock, because that is when they close. I leave at three o'clock to make sure I have plenty of time.

I miraculously find the bank. I say this because I am known to get lost in a paper bag. Now, for people who are not from around here, a lot of our roads are a tad "hilly". But the thing is, when you are riding down Monroe Street you don't realize you are on top of this hill situation. It's only when you turn right off of Monroe into a business establishment that you become aware. Aware of the CLIFF that you fall into, halfway into every parking lot on that side of the road.

I pull into the bank parking lot, drive down the hill and into the Commercial line of the drive thru window. I wait patiently in line for ten minutes. It's now my turn. I pull up to the window, put my deposit into the drawer, the girl pulls it towards her and I wait. Not for long though, because she comes right back to the window and says I must go inside. She is not authorized to take more than $25k per check. Really?? In the Commercial line?

So I pull out of the line, only to find there are no parking spaces on that side of the building. They are all full. So I keep moving forward, thinking I will just circle around. I remember seeing empty spaces on the other side when I drove in. Well now, you can't just "circle round'", oh no....you have to get back out on Monroe. One of the busiest four lane roads in Tallahassee. And you guessed it, I HAVE TO TURN LEFT.

I make it out and back in without mayhem occurring, and I cruise down, trying to find an empty space. I see one and I swing in. I have put my truck in park, when I hear this loud honking. I'm looking around and I don't see anything. But the honking continues. I am getting out of my truck when I hear a guy bellowing from the right side of my vehicle that I am blocking him in. He can't get out of his car.

Well, I certainly was..blocking him. I mean a 40 pound child could not have squeezed out of that door in that space. I get back in my truck and begin to back out. Now I will not lie, I was REALLY, REALLY flustered by now and I was truly REALLY, REALLY close to his vehicle. I began to back out and I swear I could smell the inside of his car from my side of the vehicle. I was THAT CLOSE. He keeps sticking his head out, watching me, while I am sweating, because now not only do I have to avoid scraping up the side of his car I have to worry about whacking his blasted head off in the process as well.

I get about half way out of the space, and someone begins honking. Again. I look around. I can't see anyone. Then I start backing up again. And there goes the honking again. Suddenly I see it origin, it's UP the HILL behind me, which I could not initially see, because I am parked down in the CLIFF. I slam on the brakes, let them pass me, talking loudly to myself and everyone who cannot hear me and then I begin to back up. Again.

Now I was not stupid enough to try and nail that same space again. I spot three empty spaces further down the cliff. I figure I can straddle one or two of those, nobody will park near me, and I will be able to get back out without a problem.

Once  I parked, because of  how the parking lot took a dive, and it was even further down, it felt like my truck wanted to tip over sideways. On top of that, directly in front of me, there was another cliff that made my truck feel like the nose of it was just going to start rolling and never stop. So like the smart driver that I am, I remember to apply my emergency parking brake. I get out of my truck, begin walking towards the bank to go inside and FINALLY make this deposit.

It is now 3:45. And I am standing in line behind about ten people. Little by little everything goes along, people move along, the deposit gets made, and I am walking outside headed towards my truck.

I get in, and believe it or not, I DO remember that my parking brake is on. My husband also owns a Chevrolet truck and you release his brake by just tapping it. I never use mine. I don't know if that's how mine works or not. But I try it. I tap. Nothing. I push harder. Nothing happens.. Other than I'm jamming it tighter down. I start leaning down, fiddling with  my hands, trying to find it by feel. I can't. My mind is screaming "THIS IS UNBELIEVABLE",  as I am getting back OUT of the truck to look. My big behind is bent over and jacked up for all who pass by to see, so I can ram my head underneath my dash to find the release. Finally, I think I see it.

Now because I have jammed the brake VERY tightly with all this "extra" pushing trying to get it released, when I pull that release handle it sort of makes a loud POP! noise and takes a deep lunge forward all at the same time. Now my mind screams " MY VEHICLE IS ROLLING OFF THE CLIFF", when in actuality, it just lunged largely and popped from the pressure. However, since I don't know this in that instant, I jump my big behind back in the vehicle, slamming both feet on the brake as my body is shaking from head to toe. I sit there for about five minutes trying to calm myself. I crank up my truck and begin to back out of my totally isolated parking space.

I promise you, a horn begins to blow. Again. As I am even further down into the cliff, I cannot see worse  than I could not see before. I again, let the guy pass, except this time I have had enough and I lost it. I was flipping him off, flipping my truck off and flipping off the cliff in front of me. I get that out of my system, I drive out of the parking lot and head back to the exit that will take me back onto Monroe Street.

Finally, what seemed like 24 hours ago now, I had promised Zach I would stop and get him Chick Filet sandwich on the way home. It was only about two businesses down from where I was now. All I have to say, is that boy had better be dang glad I had turn right on Monroe. Because after all of that, a need to turn left would have gotten him PB&J for supper.

Midnight Is For Sleeping

Down here in the South, it’s hot. It’s like suffocating; take your breath away, hot. The last thing you want to do is anything that will possibly increase the heat level that is already a given. Nobody wants to run a 10 yard dash in milliseconds. Nobody wants to do push-ups with their faces pressed into the hot, steaming dirt. Nobody wants another human being slamming into them with such force that it boggles the mind and the body for minutes after it’s over. And nobody wants to be awake at midnight doing any of these things.

But that’s how we roll here in Florida. We wait until everyone is asleep and then, by the light of the moon, we begin. Well, except for the parents. The parents aren’t exactly asleep either. They’re sitting in their cars, nodding in and out, until it’s all finally over, awakened now and again by the bellowing of one of the leaders. But for the most part, they are just trying to catch some sleep because they have work tomorrow.

Two a days are here. Football season is here. And these boys know it’s about to get real. Scuffling and tackling each other in the dirt, trying to get a foothold with their cleats that no one can budge.  Sweat pouring from every orifice of their bodies, every single muscle burning as if lit on fire.  And still, there is a Coach in the background, hollering for more. Hollering for faster, harder, quicker, and more.  Hollering for perfection, guts and glory.  Hollering for boys to become men and men to become leaders. 

Because that’s what this game of Football is really all about. It’s about the courage to continue going when nothing is going right. The courage to keep going when you’re tired and beat down, and the courage to know you gave it everything you had. Left no cleat unturned and the field soaked with the sweat and soul of determination.

The game of football holds the secrets of real life. It teaches solidarity, trust, teamwork, pride and united we stand, divided we fall. It’s a brotherhood that will never be the same for the game they played.

So welcome to the season of High School Football 2013. Nap away Mom’s and Dad’s. While you sleep, your boys are making memories. While you sleep your boys are giving it all they’ve got. While you are sleeping, your boys are turning into men.

And The First Day Of School Tradition Continues...SMILE!

As I said all the year of 2012, it was going to be a long year for a lot of new first's. The year 2013 is going to be no different for me.
Last year was about a lot of endings. This year will be about not only how those new endings are affecting me now, but how the new beginnings that came after, are developing.

As I signed onto Face Book this morning I was over taken by the amount of pictures flooding my news feed. Not Happy Friday postings, or TGIF postings, or what are you doing this weekend postings, but picture postings. More specifically, the first day of school picture postings.

This will be the first time in 22 years I have not had a child standing in my doorway or on my sidewalk taking a first day of school picture. Standing there all smiles, or not, depending on the age of course. Ages five through twelve, you can pretty much count on a smile of some sort. Thirteen through eighteen, the growls begin. The frowns, the scowls, and the shoulders bowed, arms crossed stance. For boys anyway. Girls I have found are ALWAYS ready for a picture to be taken. Boys, not so much.

The new school year is about to begin. For the beginners it will be a year of learning to share, that you are not always first, how to be a part of maintaining order, to pick up what you got out, that circle/story time is a time for listening, and that nap times are for real in kindergarten. Some of these things may have already been learned at home or prior day cares by some, but not by all, and adjustments will be new and sometimes difficult at first.

For everyone else, it's about who your new teachers are, will you like them, how cool your book bag is, picking out your newest best outfit for the first day, finding your classes, remembering your locker combination, will all your old  friends still be at your school, who the new kids will be and will everybody like me. Am I pretty enough, funny enough, and smart enough.

For parents, it's another year of memories about to unfold. So many unknowns that are about to happen. For some, the endless homework assignments begin the first day. In this respect, it's back to school for Mom and Dad as well. The lists of school supplies comes home and the rush to Wal-Mart and Target begins. The enforcing ritual of homework and supper first, television last begins again. And the bedtime curfew rears it's ugly, argumentative head once more as well.

But all of this also brings structure back to everyone's lives. Now don't get me wrong, every single school year I was SO ready for summer. I was tried of fussing about homework, studying, projects and deadlines. Tired of finding out about everything at the last minute and racing to the nearest place in town to get a poster board and markers for a project due in 24 hours. But every Fall, I was also ready for school to return to our lives. The roaming at will stopped. Supper was at a regular hour for everyone to sit down together again. And once more everything seemed to have a schedule of sorts. And for the most part, even children like structure and are ready to get back to it. They carry on and whine a bit about it, but they're just as ready to get back to the business of life as we are, after all, school is sort of their 'job' if you will, until real life comes along.

So Happy First Days Of School to one and all. May it be the very best it can be for the all the children, and may the stories they bring home to their parents be bright and full of life and excitement for all there is to come. And for goodness sake, share your pictures and stories if you will, after all, I'm living through you now.