Pamela’s eyes glazed over as she looked at the piles of crop insurance information in her cubicle. She daydreamed about things far more interesting while she half-listened to the conference call droning at her ear. Maybe I’ll find a guy who’s willing to sweep a 42-year old divorcee with two teenage kids off her feet to live happily ever after, she thought. Some big, strong guy with a solid streak of responsibility, a quick grin and a soft touch. She leaned back in her chair and looked to her right just in time to see that guy walk in the office door.
John strode in, putting one worn cowboy boot in front of the other, barrel chest puffed large with confidence and cheer. His notebook looked a little out of place in hands that were generally more accustomed to working in a grain elevator. The first person he saw upon entering the office was Pamela. Being that she was a recognizable and friendly face in an office full of strangers, he gladly walked towards her.
Pamela’s eyes lit up, a grin emerged and she lightly hung up on the conference call. She had met John several times while making visits to grain elevators around the area informing those of the benefits of crop insurance.
“Hey, Pam! How’s life treatin’ ya?”
“Hello, John! Not too bad, I suppose. What brings you into the big city?” she said as she flashed her bright white teeth. She had swiveled her chair to face him and was leaning back slightly, inviting conversation.
“Oh, just meeting with some folks in your office today. Nothing special,” he said as he jammed his non-notebook holding hand in his pocket like a shy little boy talking to the pretty older girl next door.
They continued to shoot the breeze in an easy, rural way. Pamela touched and flipped her hair. John picked up a putter shaped like a corn cob from the next cubicle and started practicing his swing, glancing up occasionally to catch Pamela’s eye.
Those he came to meet appeared and the encounter came to an end.
“Good to see you, Pam.”
“Likewise, John. We’ll see you later.”
John joined the meeting participants in the conference room and Pamela got back to her conference call. At least she did physically; mentally, she was back to dreaming about a suddenly more tangible Prince Charming.
After her conference call had ended, she hung up the phone and looked up to see John standing there.
“Hey, Pamela; do you think I could borrow a pen?”
Slightly surprised and flustered, Pamela fumbled around her desk for a pen.
“Oh, of course, John! Let me find one for you…”
She corralled a pen and handed it to him. As he walked back toward the conference room, he held up the pen and said over his shoulder,
“’Preciate it, Pam!”
Glowing from the second unexpected meeting that morning, Pamela picked up her ringing cell phone. On the other end of the line was her oldest son’s math teacher. Her son had been underperforming expectations and the teacher wanted to discuss possible strategies to get him back in line. Having forgotten that this call was imminent, the mini fairy tale she was living that morning started to fade away as reality grumpily pushed its way back to the forefront.
Nearly forty-five minutes had passed and John’s presence in the meeting had concluded. He started to walk out the door but stopped, remembering that he still had Pamela’s pen. As he moved towards Pamela’s cubicle, he saw the phone at her ear and her head in both hands. Not wanting to disturb her, he deftly dropped the pen on her desk and slid back toward the exit.
Seeing the pen on her desk, Pamela looked up and saw John’s broad back moving away from her. Her heart raced a little and she tried to bring her phone conversation to an end. With each step he took, her face transitioned from happiness to desperation.
“Okay, okay, thankyousomuch,” she spit out as she halted the call. But just as she hung up the phone, the office door came to a close with a click.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Ooooooooh...Baseball!
Well, now; this is strange. A baseball post on what began as a baseball blog. But after several years of finding nothing to do but complain ad infinitum about the Royals and their losing habits, Spring has sprung and after two full weeks of games, the good guys are still in first place. Okay, so they’re in a three-way tie, but hey. So my hiatus has come to an end.
So, why are we in first place? Because our starting pitching has been ridiculously good. Our #1 guy, Gil Meche, has pitched like a #1 guy. Zack Greinke has been untouchable, having yet to give up a run in his three starts. Kyle Davies has combined natural talent with the subtle genius of pitching coach Bob McClure to produce the reality his potential has been hinting at for years. Add in the fact that bloated corpse Sidney Ponson has actually held his own and Horacio Ramirez’s starts have been minimized in number and the starting rotation has been the best in the American League.
The bullpen, on the other hand, has been a mixed bag. Juan Cruz has been worth all the money paid to Kyle Farnsworth, while Farnsworth has been worth all the money paid to me. This year. At my low-paying desk job. Joakim Soria continues to try to pry the title of best closer away from Mariano Rivera, but hasn’t been utilized in the most effective, high-leverage situations. The assortment of Jamey Wrights, Robinson Tejedas, Doug Waechters and Ron Mayhays have been solid, as per their abilities.
The boys in the field have had their ups and downs, but they’ve been pretty solid, as well. Coco Crisp is leading off with a vengeance. John Buck is benefitting from the tutelage of new batting coach Kevin Seitzer. Mike Jacobs has hit a few homers, Alberto Callaspo is getting on base and the rest of the offense is treading water while Alex Gordon and Jose Guillen are on the disabled list. Of course, Guillen being on the DL is probably more like a life buoy to an offense treading water.
Outfield defense? Very good. Infield defense? Not so much. Although Billy Butler has been a pleasant surprise so far at first base.
One of the amazing things about this young season is that we could very easily be alone in first place by a couple of games. The reasons we aren’t, though, are not very pleasing . I want to keep this post light and airy, so I’ll save the mind-boggling moves of Trey Hillman for another day.
So, why are we in first place? Because our starting pitching has been ridiculously good. Our #1 guy, Gil Meche, has pitched like a #1 guy. Zack Greinke has been untouchable, having yet to give up a run in his three starts. Kyle Davies has combined natural talent with the subtle genius of pitching coach Bob McClure to produce the reality his potential has been hinting at for years. Add in the fact that bloated corpse Sidney Ponson has actually held his own and Horacio Ramirez’s starts have been minimized in number and the starting rotation has been the best in the American League.
The bullpen, on the other hand, has been a mixed bag. Juan Cruz has been worth all the money paid to Kyle Farnsworth, while Farnsworth has been worth all the money paid to me. This year. At my low-paying desk job. Joakim Soria continues to try to pry the title of best closer away from Mariano Rivera, but hasn’t been utilized in the most effective, high-leverage situations. The assortment of Jamey Wrights, Robinson Tejedas, Doug Waechters and Ron Mayhays have been solid, as per their abilities.
The boys in the field have had their ups and downs, but they’ve been pretty solid, as well. Coco Crisp is leading off with a vengeance. John Buck is benefitting from the tutelage of new batting coach Kevin Seitzer. Mike Jacobs has hit a few homers, Alberto Callaspo is getting on base and the rest of the offense is treading water while Alex Gordon and Jose Guillen are on the disabled list. Of course, Guillen being on the DL is probably more like a life buoy to an offense treading water.
Outfield defense? Very good. Infield defense? Not so much. Although Billy Butler has been a pleasant surprise so far at first base.
One of the amazing things about this young season is that we could very easily be alone in first place by a couple of games. The reasons we aren’t, though, are not very pleasing . I want to keep this post light and airy, so I’ll save the mind-boggling moves of Trey Hillman for another day.
Whaaaaat?!?!
Remember my unrequited office paramour? She’s still around:
I was walking toward the door to head to the restroom when I heard a sound. I turned my head back toward the conference room, but since it was dark, I didn’t see anything. Then I heard someone say something. Very quietly, she said “Did you hear me crunch?” I realized she was sitting all alone, lights off, shades drawn, eating her lunch. My brain couldn’t compute all this oddity at once, so I just walked out the door and went to the restroom.
When I got back, I made a concerted effort NOT to look in the conference room and NOT to engage in any conversation. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see she was still sitting there like an assassin waiting alone in the dark to kill a secret agent. As I walked past the door, I heard her say something again. I hoped she would just let me pass and be done with it.
But, no.
Again, out of the corner of my eye, I saw her get out of her chair. I went and looked out my window, my back to the rest of the office, hoping to discourage any further interaction. But she was dogged:
“Did you hear me crunch?”
I said, “What?”
“Did you hear me crunch my chip when you walked past?”
“Apparently so.”
“Sorry,” she said, and took her lunch trash into the kitchen.
Whaaaaat?!?!
I was walking toward the door to head to the restroom when I heard a sound. I turned my head back toward the conference room, but since it was dark, I didn’t see anything. Then I heard someone say something. Very quietly, she said “Did you hear me crunch?” I realized she was sitting all alone, lights off, shades drawn, eating her lunch. My brain couldn’t compute all this oddity at once, so I just walked out the door and went to the restroom.
When I got back, I made a concerted effort NOT to look in the conference room and NOT to engage in any conversation. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see she was still sitting there like an assassin waiting alone in the dark to kill a secret agent. As I walked past the door, I heard her say something again. I hoped she would just let me pass and be done with it.
But, no.
Again, out of the corner of my eye, I saw her get out of her chair. I went and looked out my window, my back to the rest of the office, hoping to discourage any further interaction. But she was dogged:
“Did you hear me crunch?”
I said, “What?”
“Did you hear me crunch my chip when you walked past?”
“Apparently so.”
“Sorry,” she said, and took her lunch trash into the kitchen.
Whaaaaat?!?!
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
I Am Solid
When I let responsibilities slide, I feel incomplete. I feel like a two-dimensional drawing that contains small-but-growing holes. Holes that might resemble a single flame eating its way through the drawing, inside-out. Or a rat systematically chewing through a paper cup. I feel paranoid, like people are poking and prodding for my failures. As if they are just waiting for me to step in a hole of my own creation.
When I don't face problems head-on, I feel unstable. I feel like my problems are chipping away at me, like a sculptor who doesn't know when to stop. And the more that gets chipped away, the more I feel wobbly, like a game of Jenga right before its climax. I feel overwhelmed. Every problem I have manifests itself as a brick and simultaneously positions itself directly above my head.
When I face my problems and accept my responsibilities, I feel strong, and warm and light. I feel confident and social. And solid.
When I don't face problems head-on, I feel unstable. I feel like my problems are chipping away at me, like a sculptor who doesn't know when to stop. And the more that gets chipped away, the more I feel wobbly, like a game of Jenga right before its climax. I feel overwhelmed. Every problem I have manifests itself as a brick and simultaneously positions itself directly above my head.
When I face my problems and accept my responsibilities, I feel strong, and warm and light. I feel confident and social. And solid.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Movie Time!
The last couple of years, I've made an effort to see the five movies that were nominated for Best Picture. This year, I upped the stakes and made a point to see the movies that included the nominees for the acting categories, as well. The following is my thoughts on each of the acting performances and the movies up for Best Picture. I've included the winner of each category along with my favorite.
ACTOR IN A LEADING ROLE
Richard Jenkins, The Visitor -- Richard Jenkins was excellent in The Visitor. Unfortunately, his character was a very understated, subtle man, which didn't bode well for his chances at winning an Oscar. The movie was an interesting look at unlikely friendships with a sprinkling of political/immigration/racism commentary. It's a movie that makes you think, but it's not boring.
Frank Langella, Frost/Nixon -- I was born the year Nixon resigned, so I'm not really familiar with Richard Nixon's mannerisms outside of the handful of news clips and comedy impressions I've seen. But from what I HAVE seen, Frank Langella is nearly perfect. It's easy to get lost in his portrayal and convince yourself that he really is Nixon. My favorite part of this movie was the look into what drove Nixon. He seemed to be an intensely competitive individual. It certainly doesn't excuse what he did, but it sure made him more compelling in my eyes.
Sean Penn, Milk -- I had no idea how influential Harvey Milk was in initializing the gay rights movement. Milk is basically an underdog tale about a likable (though flawed) guy who makes a big difference in the world and in the lives of thousands of people. And Sean Penn does a typically brilliant job of embodying his subject, the good, the bad and the ugly. I think he really humanizes Harvey Milk to those who may not be sympathetic or tolerant of gay people. I think Penn's performance is definitely Oscar-worthy.
Brad Pitt, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button -- I really like Brad Pitt as an actor, but I don't really think he's deserving of this nomination. The movie was decent and he was fine but I think the best thing about Benjamin Button is the special effects. From what I understand, they took Brad Pitt's face and digitally overlaid it onto the body of the little person who played Benjamin as a wheelchair-bound adolescent. Which was really amazing. And deserves an Oscar for effects, but not for the acting.
Mickey Rourke, The Wrestler -- This was my favorite performance. I think the role significantly parallels Mickey Rourke's career, making it easier for him to play this part so wonderfully. He's a guy who is extremely gifted and self-centered but watches everything crash around him. He makes a valiant comeback in both his career and his personal life, but continues to make egregious-yet-understandable mistakes. I think this was the best performance in this category.
WINNER: Sean Penn
MY FAVORITE: Mickey Rourke
ACTOR IN A SUPPORTING ROLE
Josh Brolin, Milk -- Josh Brolin did a fantastic job in this movie, but the lack of screen time for his character left me wanting more. He is definitely compelling as the tortured adversary to Harvey Milk, but there just doesn't seem to be enough there. He definitely gets more screen time than Viola Davis, a nominee for Best Supporting Actress in Doubt, but his performance isn't as striking as Davis's. Of course, in this field, his chances of winning were miniscule to begin with.
Robert Downey, Jr., Tropic Thunder -- If it weren't for Heath Ledger, Robert Downey, Jr. would be the runaway favorite in the category. The movie is a good-but-not-great comedy, but Downey, Jr. is outstanding. His character is a world-renowned Australian method actor who decides to undergo skin treatments to play an African-American character. This is another role where the actor completely absorbs you into his character and makes your forget his real identity. This movie just had the unfortunate timing of coming out in the same year as The Dark Knight.
Philip Seymour Hoffman, Doubt -- This was yeoman's work for Philip Seymour Hoffman. You get used to his excellence every time you see him, so I probably took this performance for granted. Plus, he was working with three other actors who were nominated this year, so he kind of gets lost in all the outstanding work.
Heath Ledger, The Dark Knight -- The Dark Knight is far and away the best comic book movie made to date. A lot of the reason for that is the gripping performance of Heath Ledger. He turns the Joker into a car wreck--in a good way. He is such an abhorrent creature that it is frightening. Yet it is impossible to look away and, actually, you end up wanting to see more of him.
Michael Shannon, Revolutionary Road -- In a movie filled with characters who work as hard as they can to put up a facade, Michael Shannon's character is a stunning and refreshing lunatic. He is the voice of hope and logic and reason that everyone else tries to quell. And as nutty as he seems at first glance, he makes more sense than anyone else.
WINNER: Heath Ledger
MY FAVORITE: Heath Ledger
ACTRESS IN A LEADING ROLE
Anne Hathaway, Rachel Getting Married -- Anne Hathaway shed her princess roles well and really got into this role. She's the hub of a dysfunctional family and a character who you can love and loathe all at the same time. She does a great job of invoking sympathy for a person who would be really tough to deal with in real life.
Angelina Jolie, Changeling -- The most amazing thing about this movie is that it's a true story. Angelina Jolie's character's son goes missing and she stops at nothing in her search for him. I don't think it was an Oscar-winning performance, but it was solid. She did well in portraying the range of emotions that any mother would experience when a child goes missing: grief, determination, anger, fear. But mostly she cried a lot and I don't think that was going to cut it in this category.
Melissa Leo, Frozen River -- An unfamiliar actress in an unfamiliar movie, Melissa Leo takes you into the world that not many of us care to think about. As a struggling mother whose husband left her right before the down payment is due on their new trailer home, she has to do the best she can to provide a home for herself and her two children. She ends up in a situation she never would have expected and things go awry. It was an excellent performance, but in a field filled with more familiar faces, she was going to have a hard time sticking out.
Meryl Streep, Doubt -- Meryl Streep plays a strict, New England nun in a gripping morality tale. As a stubborn foil to the other nominated actors from this movie (Amy Adams, Viola Davis, Philip Seymour Hoffman), she manages to stay true to her convictions in the face of many persuasive arguments. She has a record 15 Oscar nominations and this role was certainly a worthy one.
Kate Winslet, The Reader -- Kate Winslet could have been nominated just as easily for her role in Revolutionary Road, which just goes to show what an incredible year she had. In The Reader, she plays a woman who has an affair with a teenage boy. While their affair is filled with passion, she turns out to be emotionally stunted, much to her detriment later in life. It was a very nuanced performance that I felt was worthy of an Oscar win.
WINNER: Kate Winslet
MY FAVORITE: Kate Winslet
ACTRESS IN A SUPPORTING ROLE
Amy Adams, Doubt -- Amy Adams is the young, inexperienced nun opposite Meryl Streep in Doubt. Her character, while idealistic and naive, holds firm in her convictions and stands up to the stronger nun. Upon first glance, it doesn't seem like Adams is really stretching much in this role, but she definitely holds her own in a movie filled with excellent performances.
Penelope Cruz, Vicky Cristina Barcelona -- Personally, I didn't see what the big deal was about Penelope Cruz's portrayal of an eccentric ex in Vicky Cristina Barcelona. Maybe I just can't past her accent, but she seems like the same person in every movie I've seen her in. Maybe my eyes just glaze over because she's Penelope Cruz, but I still didn't think this was anything other than just a solid piece of work.
Viola Davis, Doubt -- She didn't have much time to make an impression, but Viola Davis made the most of her opportunity. As the black mother of a child who has possibly been molested by a white priest in 1960's New England, Davis does a masterful job of showing restrained but passionate emotion in trying to do what's best for her son. Her performance may have been the most gripping performance out of all those nominated in the acting categories.
Taraji P. Henson, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button -- It probably doesn't bode well for her chances that I hardly remember Taraji P. Henson's character in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. She plays the mother of a child who ages in reverse, but to me, she gets lost in the novelty of her son's condition. It's not that she does a poor job, it's just that I found it easily forgettable.
Marisa Tomei, The Wrestler -- Marisa Tomei got the assignment of adding a little depth to the "Stripper With a Heart of Gold" character. She did a decent job considering that her story somewhat parallels Mickey Rourke's character's. It's just that since the characters are fairly similar, she doesn't get the same sympathy that Randy "The Ram" receives. You can understand a big, egotistical, burned-out wrestler being emotionally withdrawn; it's harder to like a stripper at the tail end of her career who doesn't quite fill in the gaps in Randy's emotional landscape.
WINNER: Penelope Cruz
MY FAVORITE: Viola Davis
BEST PICTURE
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button -- I realize it's been said a hundred times that Benjamin Button resembles Forrest Gump a little too closely, but I can't help but agree. The concept is certainly intriguing and the love story is sufficiently agonizing, but I just felt like I had seen this story before. The special effects were outstanding, though. And I thought Cate Blanchet's performance as Benjamin's love interest was underrated. But I just didn't think it was Oscar-worthy material.
Frost/Nixon -- For me, this was the runner-up for Best Picture. I didn't have high expectations given that I thought I knew how it would play out, but I was pleasantly surprised. As I mentioned earlier, Nixon's competitive streak was compelling, but David Frost really turned out to be a worthy opponent. What is equally interesting is that I had never heard of David Frost before this movie and he didn't seem to parlay his successful interview with Nixon into anything substantial in the United States. Supporting roles by Sam Rockwell, Oliver Platt and Kevin Bacon were all highly entertaining, as well.
Milk -- I really like this story, but felt like I had seen this movie before. I didn't know anything about Harvey Milk and his role in the Gay Rights movement and I'm glad this story has now been told. But the movie felt like a typical underdog story with a hint of foreboding. It was very enjoyable, I just felt like it was presented in a fairly straightforward way. Of course, I couldn't tell you how else it should have been presented.
The Reader -- The Reader is an unusual story about a teenage boy's first love and how it affects the rest of his life. I enjoyed the insights into the main characters' emotional maturity through the lens of a brief-but-steamy affair and a highly-revealing court case. Kate Winslet's performance is really the main event here. She embodies the passion, pride, stubbornness and determination of Hannah Schmitz to a "T".
Slumdog Millionaire -- After hearing nothing but rave reviews about this movie, I was skeptical. But the originality of the story won me over. This was one of the more original love stories I've ever seen, but it was way more than just a love story. There is plenty of action and intrigue and, being set in India, it is fairly exotic. It is also a fairly uplifting movie, and while I don't mind supposed "downer" movies, it was nice to have one movie that wasn't mostly somber.
WINNER: Slumdog Millionaire
MY FAVORITE: Slumdog Millionaire
ACTOR IN A LEADING ROLE
Richard Jenkins, The Visitor -- Richard Jenkins was excellent in The Visitor. Unfortunately, his character was a very understated, subtle man, which didn't bode well for his chances at winning an Oscar. The movie was an interesting look at unlikely friendships with a sprinkling of political/immigration/racism commentary. It's a movie that makes you think, but it's not boring.
Frank Langella, Frost/Nixon -- I was born the year Nixon resigned, so I'm not really familiar with Richard Nixon's mannerisms outside of the handful of news clips and comedy impressions I've seen. But from what I HAVE seen, Frank Langella is nearly perfect. It's easy to get lost in his portrayal and convince yourself that he really is Nixon. My favorite part of this movie was the look into what drove Nixon. He seemed to be an intensely competitive individual. It certainly doesn't excuse what he did, but it sure made him more compelling in my eyes.
Sean Penn, Milk -- I had no idea how influential Harvey Milk was in initializing the gay rights movement. Milk is basically an underdog tale about a likable (though flawed) guy who makes a big difference in the world and in the lives of thousands of people. And Sean Penn does a typically brilliant job of embodying his subject, the good, the bad and the ugly. I think he really humanizes Harvey Milk to those who may not be sympathetic or tolerant of gay people. I think Penn's performance is definitely Oscar-worthy.
Brad Pitt, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button -- I really like Brad Pitt as an actor, but I don't really think he's deserving of this nomination. The movie was decent and he was fine but I think the best thing about Benjamin Button is the special effects. From what I understand, they took Brad Pitt's face and digitally overlaid it onto the body of the little person who played Benjamin as a wheelchair-bound adolescent. Which was really amazing. And deserves an Oscar for effects, but not for the acting.
Mickey Rourke, The Wrestler -- This was my favorite performance. I think the role significantly parallels Mickey Rourke's career, making it easier for him to play this part so wonderfully. He's a guy who is extremely gifted and self-centered but watches everything crash around him. He makes a valiant comeback in both his career and his personal life, but continues to make egregious-yet-understandable mistakes. I think this was the best performance in this category.
WINNER: Sean Penn
MY FAVORITE: Mickey Rourke
ACTOR IN A SUPPORTING ROLE
Josh Brolin, Milk -- Josh Brolin did a fantastic job in this movie, but the lack of screen time for his character left me wanting more. He is definitely compelling as the tortured adversary to Harvey Milk, but there just doesn't seem to be enough there. He definitely gets more screen time than Viola Davis, a nominee for Best Supporting Actress in Doubt, but his performance isn't as striking as Davis's. Of course, in this field, his chances of winning were miniscule to begin with.
Robert Downey, Jr., Tropic Thunder -- If it weren't for Heath Ledger, Robert Downey, Jr. would be the runaway favorite in the category. The movie is a good-but-not-great comedy, but Downey, Jr. is outstanding. His character is a world-renowned Australian method actor who decides to undergo skin treatments to play an African-American character. This is another role where the actor completely absorbs you into his character and makes your forget his real identity. This movie just had the unfortunate timing of coming out in the same year as The Dark Knight.
Philip Seymour Hoffman, Doubt -- This was yeoman's work for Philip Seymour Hoffman. You get used to his excellence every time you see him, so I probably took this performance for granted. Plus, he was working with three other actors who were nominated this year, so he kind of gets lost in all the outstanding work.
Heath Ledger, The Dark Knight -- The Dark Knight is far and away the best comic book movie made to date. A lot of the reason for that is the gripping performance of Heath Ledger. He turns the Joker into a car wreck--in a good way. He is such an abhorrent creature that it is frightening. Yet it is impossible to look away and, actually, you end up wanting to see more of him.
Michael Shannon, Revolutionary Road -- In a movie filled with characters who work as hard as they can to put up a facade, Michael Shannon's character is a stunning and refreshing lunatic. He is the voice of hope and logic and reason that everyone else tries to quell. And as nutty as he seems at first glance, he makes more sense than anyone else.
WINNER: Heath Ledger
MY FAVORITE: Heath Ledger
ACTRESS IN A LEADING ROLE
Anne Hathaway, Rachel Getting Married -- Anne Hathaway shed her princess roles well and really got into this role. She's the hub of a dysfunctional family and a character who you can love and loathe all at the same time. She does a great job of invoking sympathy for a person who would be really tough to deal with in real life.
Angelina Jolie, Changeling -- The most amazing thing about this movie is that it's a true story. Angelina Jolie's character's son goes missing and she stops at nothing in her search for him. I don't think it was an Oscar-winning performance, but it was solid. She did well in portraying the range of emotions that any mother would experience when a child goes missing: grief, determination, anger, fear. But mostly she cried a lot and I don't think that was going to cut it in this category.
Melissa Leo, Frozen River -- An unfamiliar actress in an unfamiliar movie, Melissa Leo takes you into the world that not many of us care to think about. As a struggling mother whose husband left her right before the down payment is due on their new trailer home, she has to do the best she can to provide a home for herself and her two children. She ends up in a situation she never would have expected and things go awry. It was an excellent performance, but in a field filled with more familiar faces, she was going to have a hard time sticking out.
Meryl Streep, Doubt -- Meryl Streep plays a strict, New England nun in a gripping morality tale. As a stubborn foil to the other nominated actors from this movie (Amy Adams, Viola Davis, Philip Seymour Hoffman), she manages to stay true to her convictions in the face of many persuasive arguments. She has a record 15 Oscar nominations and this role was certainly a worthy one.
Kate Winslet, The Reader -- Kate Winslet could have been nominated just as easily for her role in Revolutionary Road, which just goes to show what an incredible year she had. In The Reader, she plays a woman who has an affair with a teenage boy. While their affair is filled with passion, she turns out to be emotionally stunted, much to her detriment later in life. It was a very nuanced performance that I felt was worthy of an Oscar win.
WINNER: Kate Winslet
MY FAVORITE: Kate Winslet
ACTRESS IN A SUPPORTING ROLE
Amy Adams, Doubt -- Amy Adams is the young, inexperienced nun opposite Meryl Streep in Doubt. Her character, while idealistic and naive, holds firm in her convictions and stands up to the stronger nun. Upon first glance, it doesn't seem like Adams is really stretching much in this role, but she definitely holds her own in a movie filled with excellent performances.
Penelope Cruz, Vicky Cristina Barcelona -- Personally, I didn't see what the big deal was about Penelope Cruz's portrayal of an eccentric ex in Vicky Cristina Barcelona. Maybe I just can't past her accent, but she seems like the same person in every movie I've seen her in. Maybe my eyes just glaze over because she's Penelope Cruz, but I still didn't think this was anything other than just a solid piece of work.
Viola Davis, Doubt -- She didn't have much time to make an impression, but Viola Davis made the most of her opportunity. As the black mother of a child who has possibly been molested by a white priest in 1960's New England, Davis does a masterful job of showing restrained but passionate emotion in trying to do what's best for her son. Her performance may have been the most gripping performance out of all those nominated in the acting categories.
Taraji P. Henson, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button -- It probably doesn't bode well for her chances that I hardly remember Taraji P. Henson's character in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. She plays the mother of a child who ages in reverse, but to me, she gets lost in the novelty of her son's condition. It's not that she does a poor job, it's just that I found it easily forgettable.
Marisa Tomei, The Wrestler -- Marisa Tomei got the assignment of adding a little depth to the "Stripper With a Heart of Gold" character. She did a decent job considering that her story somewhat parallels Mickey Rourke's character's. It's just that since the characters are fairly similar, she doesn't get the same sympathy that Randy "The Ram" receives. You can understand a big, egotistical, burned-out wrestler being emotionally withdrawn; it's harder to like a stripper at the tail end of her career who doesn't quite fill in the gaps in Randy's emotional landscape.
WINNER: Penelope Cruz
MY FAVORITE: Viola Davis
BEST PICTURE
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button -- I realize it's been said a hundred times that Benjamin Button resembles Forrest Gump a little too closely, but I can't help but agree. The concept is certainly intriguing and the love story is sufficiently agonizing, but I just felt like I had seen this story before. The special effects were outstanding, though. And I thought Cate Blanchet's performance as Benjamin's love interest was underrated. But I just didn't think it was Oscar-worthy material.
Frost/Nixon -- For me, this was the runner-up for Best Picture. I didn't have high expectations given that I thought I knew how it would play out, but I was pleasantly surprised. As I mentioned earlier, Nixon's competitive streak was compelling, but David Frost really turned out to be a worthy opponent. What is equally interesting is that I had never heard of David Frost before this movie and he didn't seem to parlay his successful interview with Nixon into anything substantial in the United States. Supporting roles by Sam Rockwell, Oliver Platt and Kevin Bacon were all highly entertaining, as well.
Milk -- I really like this story, but felt like I had seen this movie before. I didn't know anything about Harvey Milk and his role in the Gay Rights movement and I'm glad this story has now been told. But the movie felt like a typical underdog story with a hint of foreboding. It was very enjoyable, I just felt like it was presented in a fairly straightforward way. Of course, I couldn't tell you how else it should have been presented.
The Reader -- The Reader is an unusual story about a teenage boy's first love and how it affects the rest of his life. I enjoyed the insights into the main characters' emotional maturity through the lens of a brief-but-steamy affair and a highly-revealing court case. Kate Winslet's performance is really the main event here. She embodies the passion, pride, stubbornness and determination of Hannah Schmitz to a "T".
Slumdog Millionaire -- After hearing nothing but rave reviews about this movie, I was skeptical. But the originality of the story won me over. This was one of the more original love stories I've ever seen, but it was way more than just a love story. There is plenty of action and intrigue and, being set in India, it is fairly exotic. It is also a fairly uplifting movie, and while I don't mind supposed "downer" movies, it was nice to have one movie that wasn't mostly somber.
WINNER: Slumdog Millionaire
MY FAVORITE: Slumdog Millionaire
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Initials
I just realized that I have a large number of people in my office who have initials that have alternate meanings:
K.O.
P.E.
P.C.
M.D.
R.N.
P.V. (Praire Village, for those non-JoCo residents)
B.S.
What does this mean? That if I get knocked out in gym class, I can use a computer to contact a doctor and nurse in Prairie Village. Either that or it's all just bullshit.
K.O.
P.E.
P.C.
M.D.
R.N.
P.V. (Praire Village, for those non-JoCo residents)
B.S.
What does this mean? That if I get knocked out in gym class, I can use a computer to contact a doctor and nurse in Prairie Village. Either that or it's all just bullshit.
Friday, February 06, 2009
Just For the Record...
The Most Annoying Intersections in the Kansas City Area
~ Santa Fe and Antioch, in Overland Park -- Every morning, I head west on Santa Fe out of Downtown Overland Park on my way to work. My next move is to turn left to head south on Antioch. And every day, it seems, I catch this left turn light just as it changes to red, meaning I have to sit through the entire light. It doesn't matter what speed I travel on Santa Fe leading up to this light. Some days, I go faster; some days, I go slower. Every day I get the same result.
~ Shawnee Mission Parkway and Rainbow, in Fairway -- No matter what direction I'm coming from, this light is red 99% of the time. You would think that a light would favor one street or the other. But that would just make too much sense. **Bonus Irritation** -- When turning north onto Rainbow from the left turn lane on Shawnee Mission parkway, the left turn light is green for literally 3 seconds. This is not an exaggeration. The first car in the turn lane doesn't even make it out of the intersection before the light has turned yellow. People run this light with such regularity that the folks heading west-bound on Shawnee Mission Parkway don't even get all that upset when it happens.
~ Shawnee Mission Parkway and Belinder, in Fairway -- Just a couple hundred yards from the above intersection, you cannot pass through here when traveling east or west on Shawnee Mission Parkway without stopping. Even though Belinder is not a busy street. And by "not busy", I mean that I've never seen more than two cars at one time on this street. Belinder is a two-lane street; SMP is a four-lane street. I have never seen pedestrian traffic at this intersection. This is a logic-free zone. Coupling it with the above intersection is a quick way to jump-start some road rage.
And, finally, the worst intersection in the history of mankind,
~ Martway and Broadmoor, in Mission -- This has been the worst intersection I've ever seen and has been this way since I was a small child. It's a four-way stop sign with left-turn lanes in each direction. No one ever seems to know whose turn it is to go next. Which leads to either, a) everyone staring and waving at each other to go or, b) everyone pulling half-way into the intersection and then waving, screaming or honking at each other. If the previous intersection is a considered a "logic-free zone", this intersection should be considered a logic black hole. All logic and reasoning is sucked into this intersection and destroyed. This intersection should be avoided at all costs.
Please feel free to add your own entries in the comments so we can all suffer together...
~ Santa Fe and Antioch, in Overland Park -- Every morning, I head west on Santa Fe out of Downtown Overland Park on my way to work. My next move is to turn left to head south on Antioch. And every day, it seems, I catch this left turn light just as it changes to red, meaning I have to sit through the entire light. It doesn't matter what speed I travel on Santa Fe leading up to this light. Some days, I go faster; some days, I go slower. Every day I get the same result.
~ Shawnee Mission Parkway and Rainbow, in Fairway -- No matter what direction I'm coming from, this light is red 99% of the time. You would think that a light would favor one street or the other. But that would just make too much sense. **Bonus Irritation** -- When turning north onto Rainbow from the left turn lane on Shawnee Mission parkway, the left turn light is green for literally 3 seconds. This is not an exaggeration. The first car in the turn lane doesn't even make it out of the intersection before the light has turned yellow. People run this light with such regularity that the folks heading west-bound on Shawnee Mission Parkway don't even get all that upset when it happens.
~ Shawnee Mission Parkway and Belinder, in Fairway -- Just a couple hundred yards from the above intersection, you cannot pass through here when traveling east or west on Shawnee Mission Parkway without stopping. Even though Belinder is not a busy street. And by "not busy", I mean that I've never seen more than two cars at one time on this street. Belinder is a two-lane street; SMP is a four-lane street. I have never seen pedestrian traffic at this intersection. This is a logic-free zone. Coupling it with the above intersection is a quick way to jump-start some road rage.
And, finally, the worst intersection in the history of mankind,
~ Martway and Broadmoor, in Mission -- This has been the worst intersection I've ever seen and has been this way since I was a small child. It's a four-way stop sign with left-turn lanes in each direction. No one ever seems to know whose turn it is to go next. Which leads to either, a) everyone staring and waving at each other to go or, b) everyone pulling half-way into the intersection and then waving, screaming or honking at each other. If the previous intersection is a considered a "logic-free zone", this intersection should be considered a logic black hole. All logic and reasoning is sucked into this intersection and destroyed. This intersection should be avoided at all costs.
Please feel free to add your own entries in the comments so we can all suffer together...
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Late In The Office
It is really quiet. Even the climate-control system has shut down. There is only the low drone of the idle copy machine.
The regular tarry-ers have all left. I'm all alone.
The last remnant of gold is fading in the west window. Below the melting horizon, flickering car headlights resemble fireflies as the working folk flutter homeward.
The scene in the west window stands in stark contrast to the field of fluorescent lights hovering overhead. They line up in a regimental matrix, keeping watch like sentries.
The south window projects a different picture. There is a lone streetlamp, inadequately illuminating the parking lot. Through the electric blue tint I can see that only five cars remain.
One is mine.
I should go home.
But I won't.
Not yet.
The regular tarry-ers have all left. I'm all alone.
The last remnant of gold is fading in the west window. Below the melting horizon, flickering car headlights resemble fireflies as the working folk flutter homeward.
The scene in the west window stands in stark contrast to the field of fluorescent lights hovering overhead. They line up in a regimental matrix, keeping watch like sentries.
The south window projects a different picture. There is a lone streetlamp, inadequately illuminating the parking lot. Through the electric blue tint I can see that only five cars remain.
One is mine.
I should go home.
But I won't.
Not yet.
Monday, February 02, 2009
On The Phone Again
Sung to the tune of Willie Nelson's "On the Road Again"
On the phone again
I'm in my car and I'm on the phone again
I'll cut you off while I just jabber with my friends
And I can't wait to get on the phone again
On the phone again
I can't tell you where I may have been
Distracted by my mobile confabulation
And I can't wait to get on the phone again
On the phone again
Weaving lane to lane I drift on down the highway
While I tell my friend
About some jerk who yelled, "Get out of my way!"
Last Friday...
On the phone again
I'm in my car and I'm on the phone again
I hold up traffic in my new Mercedes Benz
And I can't wait to get on the phone again
On the phone again
Ordering some spring rolls from my local Thai place
Pay no attention
While I distractedly steal your parking space
The last space...
While on the phone again
I'm in my car and I'm on the phone again
I'll start to speed up and slow right back down again
And I can't wait to get on the phone again
And I can't wait to get on the phone again
On the phone again
I'm in my car and I'm on the phone again
I'll cut you off while I just jabber with my friends
And I can't wait to get on the phone again
On the phone again
I can't tell you where I may have been
Distracted by my mobile confabulation
And I can't wait to get on the phone again
On the phone again
Weaving lane to lane I drift on down the highway
While I tell my friend
About some jerk who yelled, "Get out of my way!"
Last Friday...
On the phone again
I'm in my car and I'm on the phone again
I hold up traffic in my new Mercedes Benz
And I can't wait to get on the phone again
On the phone again
Ordering some spring rolls from my local Thai place
Pay no attention
While I distractedly steal your parking space
The last space...
While on the phone again
I'm in my car and I'm on the phone again
I'll start to speed up and slow right back down again
And I can't wait to get on the phone again
And I can't wait to get on the phone again
Friday, January 30, 2009
The Plan...Meets Reality
I was really looking forward to today. I went to bed knowing that my boss, Mike, and the guy who sits next to me, Pete, would be in Wichita all day in meetings. Mike and Pete are both generally on the phone continuously (and loudly), so I was pleased to have a peaceful, quiet, laid-back Friday. And my other co-worker, Shrene, always works from home on Fridays. So I would be the only one from my group in the office today.
I only had about two hours of work that I needed to take care of, which would leave me plenty of time to attend to more Me-centric activities. I was envisioning a leisurely stroll through the internet, reading all my favorite sites without the unpleasant interruption of work. I thought I might head up to Lamar's and get a donut or three for breakfast. A long lunch at the local sandwich shop sounded like a viable option. And to wrap it all up, I figured I would duck out of the office early and catch a movie.
So I was in an unusually chipper mood driving in to work this morning. It wasn't bone-chillingly, mind-numbingly cold and the forecast called for a partly sunny and relatively warm, 45-degree January day. And I was wearing my t-shirt with the Big Wheel graphic.
I pulled into my common law parking spot at the back of the lot and began my trek into the building. As per my daily ritual, I systematically checked over the cars in the lot, identifying which of the other folks in my office had already arrived. Ross? Check. Rob? Check. Keith? Check. Mike? "Wait," I thought. "Why is Mike's car here? Well, they said they were going to meet here early this morning and then head out. They must have taken Pete's car." And Pete usually parks on the other side of the building.
I entered the lobby of my building and headed for the stairs. As I walked past the elevator, I glanced out the doors on the opposite side of the lobby to see if any co-workers had parked over there. And there was Pete's car. "Hmmm...maybe they're just getting a late start. So much for a 100% peaceful and quiet day," I thought. "But what are you going to do?"
I trudged upstairs and entered the office. I exchanged hellos with Pete and then he said,
"We decided to stay here today."
"Seriously?" I said.
"Yeah, we thought we'd save the six hours of driving for an hour and a half meeting and just have a conference call."
"Ah, man. I was looking forward to a peaceful, quiet day," I said with a grin.
They both chuckled as I sat down.
"Well," I said, "I guess I'll just bow out early today, then."
Then Mike chimed in.
"I've got some bad news; we need to do month-end stuff today. We'll need to have an estimate done before the end of the day."
My chipper mood spontaneously combusted. So did visions of donuts and movie screens.
Because Mike is a happy-go-lucky, glass half-full guy, he laughed. Because I have to get information from him and Shrene and a person in our Minneapolis headquarters before I can begin on my portion of the estimate, I fumed. And vigorously attempted to seal off any expletives from leaking out of my mouth.
"Well, now I'm pissed off."
They both chuckled again and got back to work.
I sat down and recalled an interesting email conversation in which some of us debated what went into making a person happy. What percentage of your happiness is derived from your genetics, your circumstances and your choice? I enthusiastically argued that your personal choice dictates the majority of your happiness. And now I have a prime opportunity to prove my hypothesis.
I also recalled an old joke:
Wanna know how to make God laugh?
Tell Him your plans.
Okay, then; laugh it up, buddy. I'll try to, too.
I only had about two hours of work that I needed to take care of, which would leave me plenty of time to attend to more Me-centric activities. I was envisioning a leisurely stroll through the internet, reading all my favorite sites without the unpleasant interruption of work. I thought I might head up to Lamar's and get a donut or three for breakfast. A long lunch at the local sandwich shop sounded like a viable option. And to wrap it all up, I figured I would duck out of the office early and catch a movie.
So I was in an unusually chipper mood driving in to work this morning. It wasn't bone-chillingly, mind-numbingly cold and the forecast called for a partly sunny and relatively warm, 45-degree January day. And I was wearing my t-shirt with the Big Wheel graphic.
I pulled into my common law parking spot at the back of the lot and began my trek into the building. As per my daily ritual, I systematically checked over the cars in the lot, identifying which of the other folks in my office had already arrived. Ross? Check. Rob? Check. Keith? Check. Mike? "Wait," I thought. "Why is Mike's car here? Well, they said they were going to meet here early this morning and then head out. They must have taken Pete's car." And Pete usually parks on the other side of the building.
I entered the lobby of my building and headed for the stairs. As I walked past the elevator, I glanced out the doors on the opposite side of the lobby to see if any co-workers had parked over there. And there was Pete's car. "Hmmm...maybe they're just getting a late start. So much for a 100% peaceful and quiet day," I thought. "But what are you going to do?"
I trudged upstairs and entered the office. I exchanged hellos with Pete and then he said,
"We decided to stay here today."
"Seriously?" I said.
"Yeah, we thought we'd save the six hours of driving for an hour and a half meeting and just have a conference call."
"Ah, man. I was looking forward to a peaceful, quiet day," I said with a grin.
They both chuckled as I sat down.
"Well," I said, "I guess I'll just bow out early today, then."
Then Mike chimed in.
"I've got some bad news; we need to do month-end stuff today. We'll need to have an estimate done before the end of the day."
My chipper mood spontaneously combusted. So did visions of donuts and movie screens.
Because Mike is a happy-go-lucky, glass half-full guy, he laughed. Because I have to get information from him and Shrene and a person in our Minneapolis headquarters before I can begin on my portion of the estimate, I fumed. And vigorously attempted to seal off any expletives from leaking out of my mouth.
"Well, now I'm pissed off."
They both chuckled again and got back to work.
I sat down and recalled an interesting email conversation in which some of us debated what went into making a person happy. What percentage of your happiness is derived from your genetics, your circumstances and your choice? I enthusiastically argued that your personal choice dictates the majority of your happiness. And now I have a prime opportunity to prove my hypothesis.
I also recalled an old joke:
Wanna know how to make God laugh?
Tell Him your plans.
Okay, then; laugh it up, buddy. I'll try to, too.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Inauguration Thoughts
- First of all, I'm glad he survived. Just the other day, I heard about a high school in Ashburn, GA that held its first integrated prom in 2007. While there has been incredible and sweeping change in this country, there are still pockets of folks who are sheltered from progress. And sanity.
- It appeared to me that Obama knew the oath of office better than Chief Justice Roberts. One of the things I like about Obama is that he seems to be calm at all times. He didn't get fidgety during the flub of the oath, which I find to be very impressive. I can't imagine the kind of nerves one must have when being sworn in as the most powerful human being on the planet.
- Did you see the cheap little plastic chairs that Malia and Sasha had to sit in? Everyone else in the inner circle appeared to have plush, royalty-style chairs, but they got stuck with bingo parlor seats.
- These are my favorite snippets from the speech: "Our economy is badly weakened, a consequence of greed and irresponsibility on the part of some, but also our collective failure to make hard choices and prepare the nation for a new age." I like this because it points out that we, as a nation, loved riding the high tides but turned a blind eye toward the possible failings of our system. Now we, as a nation, are paying the consequences and are responsible for fixing our mistakes.
- "On this day, we come to proclaim an end to the petty grievances and false promises, the recriminations and worn out dogmas, that for far too long have strangled our politics."
- I realize every politician says this, but I'm going to choose to believe it this time.
- "The question we ask today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works."
- This sort of common sense approach is refreshing and has been sorely lacking. While I would prefer that the government be directly involved in my life on a minimal basis, I don't really care if they make a program for everything - so long as it works, works well and works efficiently.
- "To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist."
- I appreciate the lack of arrogance and the willingness to work with those who might be our enemies, so long as they are willing to cooperate.
- "For as much as government can do and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies."
- People are quick to blame the government for our woes. Which might be fine when the government is responsible. But the people decide who is in government and, more importantly, the people do the heavy lifting of bringing about positive change. The thing I like most about Obama is that he seems to inspire people to serve and do their part in making this country a place to be proud of. He is aware that the responsiblity lies on our collective shoulders, but he is willing to be the example for us to follow.
- Unfortunately, the most enduring image of the inauguration won't be the multitudes gathered on the Mall, the crying and hopeful faces in the crowd or the stoic presence or our new president. No, the enduring image in my mind will be hats. These hats:
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Brain Storm
There is a cloud of thoughts expanding and contracting in my head. Ideas are gliding and floating around. Practical ideas and abstract ideas and creative ideas are bumping into and melding with and separating from each other. When I start to work on something, the particles slow down and freeze in focused concentration. When I am finished, they are free to scatter and bounce and collect like dew drops in a mist of thought. Tiny lightning bolts snap and crackle in the gaps, new and fleeting ideas quickly making their presence known. Low rumbles of thunder roll and echo and settle into solid projects and thoughts...
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
I'm Sick
I'm sick.
I'm sick of people patting themselves on the back. I'm sick of people seeking my approval.
I'm sick of people not knowing who I am and what I need. I'm sick of not knowing what I need, either. I'm sick of knowing what I want but having no idea whether it coincides with what I need.
I'm sick of knowing there's a plan but not knowing what it is or when it will start moving or when it will stop.
I'm sick of being patient. I'm sick of understanding that there is a greater purpose but not knowing what my role is supposed to be.
I'm sick of the sheer stupidity and emotional irresponsibility of this country's business and financial sector. I'm sick of the blind, lemming-like response of the general public that upholds the fears that this sector generates. I'm sick of the media sensationalizing instead of reporting.
I'm sick of my feet being cold all day long.
I'm sick of my apartment complex trying to soak me for every penny they can get.
I'm sick of other people always having to be right. I'm sick of myself always having to be right.
I'm sick of eating.
I'm sick people driving as though common sense is just a baseless theory.
I'm sick of my workload wandering blindly from "shoot-me-in-the-head boring" to "shoot-me-in-the-head busy" with no stops in between. I'm sick of the inanity and vanity of the conversations that take place in my office. I'm sick of being able to work faster than my computer.
I'm sick of feeling bitter and unforgiving and unsympathetic with no reason, justifiable or otherwise. I'm sick of bouncing back and forth between those feelings and normal feelings and not being able to explain to people what is going on.
I'm sick of having the desire to be creative but not the motive. I'm sick that this is the best I could muster over the last month.
I'm sick of wishing for things that aren't going to happen and I'm sick of waiting for things to happen that I know will.
I'm sick.
I'm sick of people patting themselves on the back. I'm sick of people seeking my approval.
I'm sick of people not knowing who I am and what I need. I'm sick of not knowing what I need, either. I'm sick of knowing what I want but having no idea whether it coincides with what I need.
I'm sick of knowing there's a plan but not knowing what it is or when it will start moving or when it will stop.
I'm sick of being patient. I'm sick of understanding that there is a greater purpose but not knowing what my role is supposed to be.
I'm sick of the sheer stupidity and emotional irresponsibility of this country's business and financial sector. I'm sick of the blind, lemming-like response of the general public that upholds the fears that this sector generates. I'm sick of the media sensationalizing instead of reporting.
I'm sick of my feet being cold all day long.
I'm sick of my apartment complex trying to soak me for every penny they can get.
I'm sick of other people always having to be right. I'm sick of myself always having to be right.
I'm sick of eating.
I'm sick people driving as though common sense is just a baseless theory.
I'm sick of my workload wandering blindly from "shoot-me-in-the-head boring" to "shoot-me-in-the-head busy" with no stops in between. I'm sick of the inanity and vanity of the conversations that take place in my office. I'm sick of being able to work faster than my computer.
I'm sick of feeling bitter and unforgiving and unsympathetic with no reason, justifiable or otherwise. I'm sick of bouncing back and forth between those feelings and normal feelings and not being able to explain to people what is going on.
I'm sick of having the desire to be creative but not the motive. I'm sick that this is the best I could muster over the last month.
I'm sick of wishing for things that aren't going to happen and I'm sick of waiting for things to happen that I know will.
I'm sick.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Suburbia
"Do I know you?"
That's what she said to me that night as I picked myself up off the concrete walking path in Corporate Woods. The combination of two small, white, energetic, puffball dogs and the long leashes they were attached to had conspired to tangle up my legs and send me sprawling to the ground. My hands stung from hitting the rough concrete and the cool Autumn temperatures just added to the discomfort.
After surveying my newly-textured hands, I looked up and saw what I thought were two more small puffball dogs, only these were brown and stoic. Except they weren't dogs at all; they were the footwear of choice for this unusual woman in front of me. Her slippers were topped by what appeared to be turquoise silk pajama bottoms, peeking out from beneath a brown, full-length fur coat. The kind of coat that gets blood dumped on you. A faint red glow emanated from the cigarette she was holding in her non-leash hand.
"Do I know you?" she repeated, followed by a cough that indicated she'd been smoking since the Nixon administration.
My irritation switch had been flipped on by the two-dog take-down and I thought to myself, "What a stupid question. How the hell would I know if YOU know ME?" I took a moment to brush off the damp leaves that had pasted themselves to my knees and collected myself. I couldn't really see her face as the only other light besides her tobacco rod was a streetlamp about 50 yards behind her. As it was, she was backlit and the only feature of her head that I could ascertain was her salon-fresh perm.
The dogs did us a favor and pulled her in the direction of the streetlamp. While the cotton ball canines relieved themselves on separate trees just off the path, the unforgiving amber light accentuated her sharp features. Her bone structure indicated that her presence during the Nixon administration was accurate, but any wrinkles, creases or crevasses that would confirm this assumption were conspicuously absent. Bright red lipstick punctuated and completed the portrait.
Before she could assail me with the question again, I said, "I'm sorry. I don't believe I've met you before..."
"Weren't you a sack boy at the Hen House before they shut it down?" she cackled.
"Um, no. I've never worked at a grocery store before."
"Why are you so fidgety? Are you some sort of pervert?"
I thought to myself, If I was a pervert, would I be copping to it now?
The dogs had finished their business and were concentrating on re-wrapping their leashes around my legs again. The odd woman put the cigarette in her mouth and started digging around in her front left pocket.
Through cigarette-pursed lips, she said, "I'm going to flip a coin. Heads, you're a pervert and I call the police. Tails, you're the sack boy at Hen House and we'll part ways."
I stood there in shock for a moment. When I saw her finagle the coin out of her pocket and place it carefully on her cocked thumb, I started extricating myself from my tangled dog-web.
"Criminy, lady! I was only out for a walk and your dogs tripped me up!"
The judicial nickle twirled in the air while one of the dogs bit into my pantleg and started tugging. The coin missed the woman's hand and clinked on the pavement.
As she bent over to read the verdict, I managed to pull away from the dogs, leaving them with a khaki souvenir. As I took my first few steps to escape this surreal scene, I heard her cough and say,
"Pervert? Nah, I don't believe that. Come back here, sack boy!"
I impolitely declined her invitation and ran home, deciding that mind-clearing walks were best taken away from the suburbs.
That's what she said to me that night as I picked myself up off the concrete walking path in Corporate Woods. The combination of two small, white, energetic, puffball dogs and the long leashes they were attached to had conspired to tangle up my legs and send me sprawling to the ground. My hands stung from hitting the rough concrete and the cool Autumn temperatures just added to the discomfort.
After surveying my newly-textured hands, I looked up and saw what I thought were two more small puffball dogs, only these were brown and stoic. Except they weren't dogs at all; they were the footwear of choice for this unusual woman in front of me. Her slippers were topped by what appeared to be turquoise silk pajama bottoms, peeking out from beneath a brown, full-length fur coat. The kind of coat that gets blood dumped on you. A faint red glow emanated from the cigarette she was holding in her non-leash hand.
"Do I know you?" she repeated, followed by a cough that indicated she'd been smoking since the Nixon administration.
My irritation switch had been flipped on by the two-dog take-down and I thought to myself, "What a stupid question. How the hell would I know if YOU know ME?" I took a moment to brush off the damp leaves that had pasted themselves to my knees and collected myself. I couldn't really see her face as the only other light besides her tobacco rod was a streetlamp about 50 yards behind her. As it was, she was backlit and the only feature of her head that I could ascertain was her salon-fresh perm.
The dogs did us a favor and pulled her in the direction of the streetlamp. While the cotton ball canines relieved themselves on separate trees just off the path, the unforgiving amber light accentuated her sharp features. Her bone structure indicated that her presence during the Nixon administration was accurate, but any wrinkles, creases or crevasses that would confirm this assumption were conspicuously absent. Bright red lipstick punctuated and completed the portrait.
Before she could assail me with the question again, I said, "I'm sorry. I don't believe I've met you before..."
"Weren't you a sack boy at the Hen House before they shut it down?" she cackled.
"Um, no. I've never worked at a grocery store before."
"Why are you so fidgety? Are you some sort of pervert?"
I thought to myself, If I was a pervert, would I be copping to it now?
The dogs had finished their business and were concentrating on re-wrapping their leashes around my legs again. The odd woman put the cigarette in her mouth and started digging around in her front left pocket.
Through cigarette-pursed lips, she said, "I'm going to flip a coin. Heads, you're a pervert and I call the police. Tails, you're the sack boy at Hen House and we'll part ways."
I stood there in shock for a moment. When I saw her finagle the coin out of her pocket and place it carefully on her cocked thumb, I started extricating myself from my tangled dog-web.
"Criminy, lady! I was only out for a walk and your dogs tripped me up!"
The judicial nickle twirled in the air while one of the dogs bit into my pantleg and started tugging. The coin missed the woman's hand and clinked on the pavement.
As she bent over to read the verdict, I managed to pull away from the dogs, leaving them with a khaki souvenir. As I took my first few steps to escape this surreal scene, I heard her cough and say,
"Pervert? Nah, I don't believe that. Come back here, sack boy!"
I impolitely declined her invitation and ran home, deciding that mind-clearing walks were best taken away from the suburbs.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Choose Your Culture
A while back, I bought a mini-fridge. I put it next to my desk at work. To begin with, it was a solution to a cold water problem. Our office, though a branch of the largest private company in America, decided they couldn't afford an ice machine. And the refrigerator's ice maker was broken and apparently not important enough to fix. Which left the employees with the responsibility of filling ice trays and dumping the ice into a bucket. And then digging into the ice bucket with their grubby hands to retrieve ice for their drinks. This is where my cold water problem started. So I bought the mini-fridge in order to store my own cold water.
A side benefit of having a mini-fridge next to your desk is that you can stock it with snacks and lunch items. In my case, I've taken to keeping a couple of weeks worth of Lunchables and yogurt close at hand. The side benefit to this is that it stopped my daily habit of buying a snack out of the snack machine. This was a two-fold benefit in that a) I saved myself some money by buying yogurt instead of overpriced vending machine food and b) the health factor of my snacks improved considerably. I went from spending a dollar a day purchasing items such as the "Big Texas Cinnamon Roll" and "Dunkin Sticks" and "A Honey Bun Only A Bear Could Finish" to spending sixty cents a day on a snack that boasts the eyebrow-raising yet generally accepted ingredient "Active Yogurt Cultures".
Yesterday, I burned through the last of my yogurt cultures but forgot to go to the store to refresh. So, this morning I was hungry but was forced to patronize the the vending machine. "One dip into the pool of sugar and fat shouldn't be too big a deal," I told myself. None of my usual favorites were in stock, though, so I went with some Dolly Madison chocolate cupcakes.
I got back to my desk and started perusing the Kansas City Star online. While reading about local events, I opened my plastic-wrapped delights and started munching on one of the cupcakes. It tasted a little odd, but I figured it was just because I hadn't had one in quite some time. I ate the rest of it with little thought other than agreeing with Jason Whitlock about the need for Carl Peterson to be fired.
I popped the second one into my hand while reading about Sherron Collins making the pre-season All-Big 12 team. I took a big bite and realized that this one tasted far worse than the first. It was then that I finally looked at the cupcake and saw some cultures I was not expecting: It was covered in mold.
I angrily chucked the remaining cupcake in the trash and proceeded to suck down as much water as I could. I then hoped and prayed that I wouldn't throw up because there are few things in life worse than throwing up.
When the guy sitting next to me offered me a FireBall jawbreaker, I jumped at the chance to eliminate the musty taste in my mouth. And while that worked pretty well, every time I burped the rest of the morning, my stomach reminded me of the cultures at work in my gut.
It's now 3:20 in the afternoon. I haven't puked yet. But I think I may take off early and go buy some yogurt.
A side benefit of having a mini-fridge next to your desk is that you can stock it with snacks and lunch items. In my case, I've taken to keeping a couple of weeks worth of Lunchables and yogurt close at hand. The side benefit to this is that it stopped my daily habit of buying a snack out of the snack machine. This was a two-fold benefit in that a) I saved myself some money by buying yogurt instead of overpriced vending machine food and b) the health factor of my snacks improved considerably. I went from spending a dollar a day purchasing items such as the "Big Texas Cinnamon Roll" and "Dunkin Sticks" and "A Honey Bun Only A Bear Could Finish" to spending sixty cents a day on a snack that boasts the eyebrow-raising yet generally accepted ingredient "Active Yogurt Cultures".
Yesterday, I burned through the last of my yogurt cultures but forgot to go to the store to refresh. So, this morning I was hungry but was forced to patronize the the vending machine. "One dip into the pool of sugar and fat shouldn't be too big a deal," I told myself. None of my usual favorites were in stock, though, so I went with some Dolly Madison chocolate cupcakes.
I got back to my desk and started perusing the Kansas City Star online. While reading about local events, I opened my plastic-wrapped delights and started munching on one of the cupcakes. It tasted a little odd, but I figured it was just because I hadn't had one in quite some time. I ate the rest of it with little thought other than agreeing with Jason Whitlock about the need for Carl Peterson to be fired.
I popped the second one into my hand while reading about Sherron Collins making the pre-season All-Big 12 team. I took a big bite and realized that this one tasted far worse than the first. It was then that I finally looked at the cupcake and saw some cultures I was not expecting: It was covered in mold.
I angrily chucked the remaining cupcake in the trash and proceeded to suck down as much water as I could. I then hoped and prayed that I wouldn't throw up because there are few things in life worse than throwing up.
When the guy sitting next to me offered me a FireBall jawbreaker, I jumped at the chance to eliminate the musty taste in my mouth. And while that worked pretty well, every time I burped the rest of the morning, my stomach reminded me of the cultures at work in my gut.
It's now 3:20 in the afternoon. I haven't puked yet. But I think I may take off early and go buy some yogurt.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Happiness Is...
* Putting on a sweater and grabbing a hot cup of cocoa on a chilly Autumn morning in a chilly office.
* Leaving work early on a rainy, dreary day--and spending part of the afternoon in a cozy coffee shop with a friend.
* Getting home from work early and watching Jeopardy!--and knowing a bunch of the answers.
* Having a boss that is cool with letting me leave early on occasion.
* My son telling me about how his football coach went off when some players informed him they would miss the next game because of a school band event--and then realizing that he will get a lot more playing time because of their absence.
* Anticipating a new, free phone, certain to arrive this afternoon.
* Finding one of my favorite cool-weather shirts at the bottom of my closet.
* Leaving the window cracked to allow the cool air in and wearing my favorite adidas jogging pants while watching playoff baseball.
* Finishing up a good book--and anticipating the next one.
* Stretching out sore hamstrings.
* Congratulating (and being congratulated by) my co-worker daily on KU winning the national basketball championship.
* Being so efficient at my job that I can take the time to come up with these little tidbits and write them up during office hours.
Friday, October 03, 2008
Human Magnet
I am a human magnet.
I attract and repel.
I feel like a puzzle piece whose shape clearly fits, but whose edges are magnetized and thus repelled by its counterpart. Now, I'm praying that God sees fit to reverse the poles.
Until then, I am the two-dimensional bald guy peeking out behind a pile of metal shavings and a thin layer of plastic. Someone has picked up the magnetic pen and arranged the shavings into an attractive mosaic of hair. And though pleased with the outcome, they decided to shake it up and leave it for someone else.
I am a dime store Etch-A-Sketch.
I am a human magnet.
I attract and repel.
I feel like a puzzle piece whose shape clearly fits, but whose edges are magnetized and thus repelled by its counterpart. Now, I'm praying that God sees fit to reverse the poles.
Until then, I am the two-dimensional bald guy peeking out behind a pile of metal shavings and a thin layer of plastic. Someone has picked up the magnetic pen and arranged the shavings into an attractive mosaic of hair. And though pleased with the outcome, they decided to shake it up and leave it for someone else.
I am a dime store Etch-A-Sketch.
I am a human magnet.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
A Few Haiku
The Gray Slab has passed
Sunshine radiates again
Energy abounds
Deep blue skies and warmth
Summer's not quite over yet
Please keep lingering
Autumn beckoning
But birth still trumps decay
Life is found elsewhere
Stand by the window
Close your eyes, soak in the warmth
Forget you're indoors
Sunshine radiates again
Energy abounds
Deep blue skies and warmth
Summer's not quite over yet
Please keep lingering
Autumn beckoning
But birth still trumps decay
Life is found elsewhere
Stand by the window
Close your eyes, soak in the warmth
Forget you're indoors
Monday, September 15, 2008
The Chevette
"I really think you should get a Chevette."
That was what my Aunt Vicki suggested as an idea for my first car.
"Yeah, right."
That was my response as a 15-year old kid back in 1990.
"I would look like a total idiot," I said. "No way am I EVER going to own a Chevette."
She chuckled and said, "Oh, I think it would be really cool," and then chuckled some more.
**
Thankfully for my teenage ego I did not purchase a Chevette. I wound up buying my grandma's rust-colored, four-door, 1981 Toyota Corolla. Not a huge leap up on the cool scale from a Chevette, but still...
That car was like a Timex watch; it took a lickin' and kept on tickin'. I worked it over like an alum of Abu Ghraib. I busted an axle, bent the frame, warped the head and discovered several gallons of pooled water in the trunk. I don't remember ever taking it in for an oil change and I certainly never did that job myself. And yet it just kept bouncing back, taking me wherever I pleased and accepting whatever punishment I doled out.
It was a nearly-perfect first car. I made 16 monthly $100 payments to my grandparents and every single one was worthwhile.
**
Fast-forward nearly 20 years later. My most recent car, a 1999 Chevy Metro, has become temperamental. It doesn't like to start when it rains. Or if it has rained within the last six or seven hours. Or if it's a particularly dewy morning. Or if the Farmer's Almanac says this might be a rainy month.
As you might imagine, this can be very inconvenient. And irritating. And frustrating. Especially when you consider that this car has given me eight sturdy years of service. And it runs neck-and-neck with the aforementioned '81 Corolla in the race to be the favorite car I've ever owned.
But the life I lead requires that I have a car that works both in sunshine and in precipitation. Thankfully, a multi-pronged solution was made aware to me.
**
My friend Judson told me that his mom was getting ready to sell a couple of vehicles. He said they would be available at a "family discount" if I was interested. Considering the fact that my current car was hydrophobic and I had a son who was nearing driving age himself, I expressed my interest. He said that she was selling an early '90s Buick that ran smoothly but had a lot of miles. And he said that she was selling a 1976 Chevy Chevette that had only 40,000 original miles and had been used to teach himself and his siblings how to drive. I told him I was interested in both, thinking I would hedge my bets against my current car and have a cheap alternative for my son to drive when he was ready. But when Judson got back to me, his mom had already sold the Buick. He asked if I was still interested in the Chevette at the low, low price of $300. At that price, I just couldn't pass it up.
He drove it up from his mom's place in Pratt, KS and arrived at my place on a Sunday afternoon. It was a stunning orange marvel. The shape and color of the car reminded me of an orange Skittle. He had put on brand new whitewall tires and and a new pair of windshield wipers. It was a two-door with a hatchback and beige interior. The seats were faux leather and the steering wheel felt as big as an 18-wheeler's.
Being a product of the oil crisis '70s, it got 30 miles to the gallon. The emergency brake didn't work and when it was hot outside it wouldn't go into reverse. The radio seemed to work but the speakers didn't. It was a four-speed with no passenger side mirror and no rear defrost.
And I absolutely loved it.
**
When my kids first saw it, they picked up on my enthusiasm and they loved it, too. They wanted to ride around in it all the time.
But then I started dropping off and picking up David from high school. And football practice. And all of a sudden, he was meeting me out in the parking lot rather than near the entrance to the locker room. I asked him what he was doing clear out here and he said he was just making it easier on me to pick him up. I told him he didn't need to do that and he reluctantly grinned and said that he was a little embarrassed being picked up in this car.
I laughed to myself and decided I loved this car even more. And I told him he'd better get used to it because this is what he was going to be driving in the not-so-distant future.
**
Sitting at a light, I noticed a guy in the car next to me was giving the Chevette the once over. He rolled down his window and said to me, "Boy, they sure don't make 'em like that anymore, do they?"
A convertible full of high school kids was in the left turn lane when I pulled up. One kid had been eyeing me for about 30 yards until I came to a stop. I heard him as he leaned toward his buddy and said, "I want THAT car."
After picking David up from practice one day, he chuckled and told me about the reaction one of the football managers had when seeing my car: "That is a pimp car." Feel free to interpret that in whatever manner you choose.
One of the special needs guys that lives in my apartment complex mentioned this as he walked by one day: "I really like that car. What year is it? Is it a '74? Oh, it's a '76? Man, that's a great car."
These anecdotes only complement the vast number of incidents where people have been staring at my car. I've never experienced anything like it before. I never would have expected. it.
**
I was wrong. I DID end up owning a Chevette. But I was partially right, too. I know many of the stares I get are because I look like an idiot. But Aunt Vicki was right, too; it's pretty cool. And we'll see what David thinks once he starts driving it. He might give in like me and think it's pretty cool, too.
That was what my Aunt Vicki suggested as an idea for my first car.
"Yeah, right."
That was my response as a 15-year old kid back in 1990.
"I would look like a total idiot," I said. "No way am I EVER going to own a Chevette."
She chuckled and said, "Oh, I think it would be really cool," and then chuckled some more.
**
Thankfully for my teenage ego I did not purchase a Chevette. I wound up buying my grandma's rust-colored, four-door, 1981 Toyota Corolla. Not a huge leap up on the cool scale from a Chevette, but still...
That car was like a Timex watch; it took a lickin' and kept on tickin'. I worked it over like an alum of Abu Ghraib. I busted an axle, bent the frame, warped the head and discovered several gallons of pooled water in the trunk. I don't remember ever taking it in for an oil change and I certainly never did that job myself. And yet it just kept bouncing back, taking me wherever I pleased and accepting whatever punishment I doled out.
It was a nearly-perfect first car. I made 16 monthly $100 payments to my grandparents and every single one was worthwhile.
**
Fast-forward nearly 20 years later. My most recent car, a 1999 Chevy Metro, has become temperamental. It doesn't like to start when it rains. Or if it has rained within the last six or seven hours. Or if it's a particularly dewy morning. Or if the Farmer's Almanac says this might be a rainy month.
As you might imagine, this can be very inconvenient. And irritating. And frustrating. Especially when you consider that this car has given me eight sturdy years of service. And it runs neck-and-neck with the aforementioned '81 Corolla in the race to be the favorite car I've ever owned.
But the life I lead requires that I have a car that works both in sunshine and in precipitation. Thankfully, a multi-pronged solution was made aware to me.
**
My friend Judson told me that his mom was getting ready to sell a couple of vehicles. He said they would be available at a "family discount" if I was interested. Considering the fact that my current car was hydrophobic and I had a son who was nearing driving age himself, I expressed my interest. He said that she was selling an early '90s Buick that ran smoothly but had a lot of miles. And he said that she was selling a 1976 Chevy Chevette that had only 40,000 original miles and had been used to teach himself and his siblings how to drive. I told him I was interested in both, thinking I would hedge my bets against my current car and have a cheap alternative for my son to drive when he was ready. But when Judson got back to me, his mom had already sold the Buick. He asked if I was still interested in the Chevette at the low, low price of $300. At that price, I just couldn't pass it up.
He drove it up from his mom's place in Pratt, KS and arrived at my place on a Sunday afternoon. It was a stunning orange marvel. The shape and color of the car reminded me of an orange Skittle. He had put on brand new whitewall tires and and a new pair of windshield wipers. It was a two-door with a hatchback and beige interior. The seats were faux leather and the steering wheel felt as big as an 18-wheeler's.
Being a product of the oil crisis '70s, it got 30 miles to the gallon. The emergency brake didn't work and when it was hot outside it wouldn't go into reverse. The radio seemed to work but the speakers didn't. It was a four-speed with no passenger side mirror and no rear defrost.
And I absolutely loved it.
**
When my kids first saw it, they picked up on my enthusiasm and they loved it, too. They wanted to ride around in it all the time.
But then I started dropping off and picking up David from high school. And football practice. And all of a sudden, he was meeting me out in the parking lot rather than near the entrance to the locker room. I asked him what he was doing clear out here and he said he was just making it easier on me to pick him up. I told him he didn't need to do that and he reluctantly grinned and said that he was a little embarrassed being picked up in this car.
I laughed to myself and decided I loved this car even more. And I told him he'd better get used to it because this is what he was going to be driving in the not-so-distant future.
**
Sitting at a light, I noticed a guy in the car next to me was giving the Chevette the once over. He rolled down his window and said to me, "Boy, they sure don't make 'em like that anymore, do they?"
A convertible full of high school kids was in the left turn lane when I pulled up. One kid had been eyeing me for about 30 yards until I came to a stop. I heard him as he leaned toward his buddy and said, "I want THAT car."
After picking David up from practice one day, he chuckled and told me about the reaction one of the football managers had when seeing my car: "That is a pimp car." Feel free to interpret that in whatever manner you choose.
One of the special needs guys that lives in my apartment complex mentioned this as he walked by one day: "I really like that car. What year is it? Is it a '74? Oh, it's a '76? Man, that's a great car."
These anecdotes only complement the vast number of incidents where people have been staring at my car. I've never experienced anything like it before. I never would have expected. it.
**
I was wrong. I DID end up owning a Chevette. But I was partially right, too. I know many of the stares I get are because I look like an idiot. But Aunt Vicki was right, too; it's pretty cool. And we'll see what David thinks once he starts driving it. He might give in like me and think it's pretty cool, too.
Monday, September 08, 2008
Happyness
I just got done watching The Pursuit of Happyness with Will Smith. After seeing this, I couldn't be more proud of my own children. They haven't had it as rough as the little boy in that movie, but the movie sure reminded me of all the things they've been through in their relatively short lives. And it reminded me that they are truly great people.
They haven't had to sleep in a subway bathroom. They haven't had to wait in line for the chance to sleep in a shelter. Their mother did not leave them and move to the other side of the continent.
But they were each born prematurely, neither weighing more than six pounds. David even spent his opening days in the neonatal intensive care unit to make sure his lungs developed properly.
They have lived in no less than 10 different homes in their 14 and 12 years, respectively. Long-lasting friendships were sacrificed because they moved from school to school to school, six times in all. They have had (and continue) to endure the separation and divorce of their parents. They have had to adjust to being shuffled between their mother's and father's homes for over half their lives.
They survived their parents' simultaneous bouts with clinical depression. They learned how to fix their own cereal and do their own laundry when they were much too young because their father couldn't move himself off the couch. They had to share a room and even a bed for far too long.
Their paternal grandparents moved so far away that they were only able to spend as much as 60 combined days together in 10 years, with a week's worth of those days spent mourning their grandfather. Their paternal uncle has seen them only a little bit more. And their great-aunt moved away, too.
They trailed along behind their father as he worked cleaning office buildings. They trailed along behind their mother as she submitted to receiving her groceries from a food pantry.
Despite all these losses and challenges and hardships, they've managed to persevere and learn and press on.
After touring five different grade schools in six years, Samantha is starting to come into her own in middle school. After coming to know many children in many schools, she came to middle school unknowingly having built up a large network of friends. This has allowed her to feel more comfortable at school than she has felt in years.
David decided to pursue football in his debut semester in high school. And after a rough initiation, he appears to be embracing his new lifestyle. The amount of running, yelling and physical pain far exceeded his expectations at the beginning of the year. And though he wanted to give up, he has managed to hang on.
My kids have built up skills and character traits in their short lives that have taken me twice as long to achieve, if I've managed to achieve them at all. They are kind and compassionate and sensitive. They are funny and intelligent. The are polite and respectful. They are helpful. They are self-confident. They are selfless. And, above all, they are loving.
They are not all these things, all the time. They are not perfect. But they embody all these things at their core. And only by the grace of God are these things possible, because their parents are imperfect teachers.
It's been said that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. We all know that's a load of crap. We've all been witness to people who can't seem to catch a break. We've seen people struggle with just getting through life. There are people who become homeless or sick who never recover, who never get stronger, who are utterly consumed by life.
My kids have been through an awful lot. But they've also been incredibly blessed. And, as a result, I've been blessed. And that brings me immense pride and happyness.
They haven't had to sleep in a subway bathroom. They haven't had to wait in line for the chance to sleep in a shelter. Their mother did not leave them and move to the other side of the continent.
But they were each born prematurely, neither weighing more than six pounds. David even spent his opening days in the neonatal intensive care unit to make sure his lungs developed properly.
They have lived in no less than 10 different homes in their 14 and 12 years, respectively. Long-lasting friendships were sacrificed because they moved from school to school to school, six times in all. They have had (and continue) to endure the separation and divorce of their parents. They have had to adjust to being shuffled between their mother's and father's homes for over half their lives.
They survived their parents' simultaneous bouts with clinical depression. They learned how to fix their own cereal and do their own laundry when they were much too young because their father couldn't move himself off the couch. They had to share a room and even a bed for far too long.
Their paternal grandparents moved so far away that they were only able to spend as much as 60 combined days together in 10 years, with a week's worth of those days spent mourning their grandfather. Their paternal uncle has seen them only a little bit more. And their great-aunt moved away, too.
They trailed along behind their father as he worked cleaning office buildings. They trailed along behind their mother as she submitted to receiving her groceries from a food pantry.
Despite all these losses and challenges and hardships, they've managed to persevere and learn and press on.
After touring five different grade schools in six years, Samantha is starting to come into her own in middle school. After coming to know many children in many schools, she came to middle school unknowingly having built up a large network of friends. This has allowed her to feel more comfortable at school than she has felt in years.
David decided to pursue football in his debut semester in high school. And after a rough initiation, he appears to be embracing his new lifestyle. The amount of running, yelling and physical pain far exceeded his expectations at the beginning of the year. And though he wanted to give up, he has managed to hang on.
My kids have built up skills and character traits in their short lives that have taken me twice as long to achieve, if I've managed to achieve them at all. They are kind and compassionate and sensitive. They are funny and intelligent. The are polite and respectful. They are helpful. They are self-confident. They are selfless. And, above all, they are loving.
They are not all these things, all the time. They are not perfect. But they embody all these things at their core. And only by the grace of God are these things possible, because their parents are imperfect teachers.
It's been said that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. We all know that's a load of crap. We've all been witness to people who can't seem to catch a break. We've seen people struggle with just getting through life. There are people who become homeless or sick who never recover, who never get stronger, who are utterly consumed by life.
My kids have been through an awful lot. But they've also been incredibly blessed. And, as a result, I've been blessed. And that brings me immense pride and happyness.
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