We all sat down around my neighbor's table on their outdoor deck at 6pm tonight to feast on grilled chicken, steak, and lasagna. We had not been seated for longer than one minute when Iz said to me, "Mommy, when are you going to get a job?" Of course, everyone howled. Immediately, my friend, Ellen said, "Oh, I bet this going to be in your blog tomorrow!" Ah, Ellen, like Chris, knows me so well!
I think Iz's question didn't have anything to do with me not trying my hardest to find a job. I have applied for every job I'm qualified for, all of those I'm not, and even some questionable ones from craigslist. Err, those from craigslist were labeled "Writer" and not "Kept Woman," okay?!
Anyway, I believe that the economy has finally gotten to Iz.
When she asked if she could take horseback riding lessons, I said, "When Mommy gets a job, you can do that."
"Mommy, can I have a new DS game." "No. Mommy doesn't have a job or a lot of money right now."
"Can we go to Disneyworld?" "Perhaps when Mommy gets a job."
Something I've noticed lately, especially with the recession, is that we give our kids so much, maybe too much, these days, and, in turn, they expect it all. I'm not going to say that the problem is just that kids expect too much, because that would mean that they are to blame. And, they're not; we the parents are.
I had to think about it for a minute, because I don't want to sound like "And, when I was their age I had to walk 10 miles to school..." because I didn't have to walk 10 miles to school. I got a bus. BUT, I didn't go to the Galapagos Islands my sophomore year of high school during April vacation, I never got to go on any Spring Break vacation during college, I didn't get on a plane until I was 24, and I didn't go to Europe until I was 27! And, do you know what? I didn't turn out any worse for it. Had I had all those opportunities earlier would my life have been a bit more fun? Okay, maybe, but I didn't become a miserable failure in life because I missed any of those opportunities either.
The most important thing I learned growing up was that in order to get something I had to earn it; I wasn't entitled to it just because I happened to be standing there wanting whatever it was. When I was 14, I started babysitting; and, when I was 16, I got a job in a grocery store and eventually in a pharmacy. I had to earn all my spending money and book money for college each year. And, regardless of that, I was always expected to help out at home by doing something like the dishes, taking out the trash, doing laundry, or helping my Mom unload the car and put away the groceries. These weren't "If and when I felt like it" like it things to do; these were things I knew I had to do, because my parents both worked hard to clothe, feed, and school me.
I look at the way some kids treat their parents today, and I wonder if we're really creating generations who will do more because they have more, or are we just really creating generations who will do less because they feel that others should always be doing more for them?
And, I'd be the first to admit that I give my kids more than I should sometimes, though neither of them asks for too much, especially Nate; however, in times like these where we're all having to scrimp due to the recession, I'd be the first to say that when it comes to giving our kids too much, it's time to just say "No." <3
Thanks to youknowwhoyouare for the blog soundtrack:
Today was the first Pop Warner football game; hence, it was Iz's first day of cheerleading. And, she did a damn good job, too! Nathan, you would have been proud of your sister, even if you think cheerleading is as bad as my taste in music.
My brother played Pop Warner football for maybe a season if that. So, if I had been to one of my brother's games, I didn't remember it at all. Today was a totally new experience. The crowds, the enthusiasm and, most importantly, the kids and the parents. It was so cute to see these little 5-year-old guys dressed up in their football uniforms. I had already gotten used to the cheer "cuteness," but the little dudes totally overwhelmed me today.
So, here is cheer cuteness.
This little guy was too cute; he was the smallest one on the team, but he should so be in pictures!
Um, okay, when I took this I thought he had to go to the bathroom. Turns out the guy was, err, injured. (I'm sorry, but I couldn't resist!)
One of my neighbors, who is the mother of three boys, has a Broncos sticker on her mini-van. I thought that one or all of her boys must play. Wasn't I floored today when I saw her out with her husband coaching the team that their sons were on!
Apparently, in the the Little Dude league of football, you play on half a football field with, what looked like, a shared goal at one end. There were tons of these little guys running around, and most pleasantly suprising, were the parents, like my neighbor, running around after them and supporting them. I'm not a football person, but I have to tell you, it was a beautiful thing to watch and participate in.
At one point, Iz ventured up from her cheer group (and I was expecting her to tell me that she had to pee), ducked under the rope that kept the crowd off the track and away from the playing field, came up to me where I was sitting in the bleachers, got right in my face and then said, "Mom, are we still going to Sephora this afternoon?!?!??" I told her we were, and she said, "Okay," turned around and went back to join the squad. Yes, I didn't take the wrong baby home from the hospital, did I?
Oooo, shaga, laga, Steve and Brenda!
Sometimes Being Called an Animal Can Totally be a Good Thing: I was going to bike on my own today, which would have been an easy 25 miles doing the rail trail up and back. (But, it ended up being a WICKED hilly 30 miles!) About 20 minutes before I was going to leave, I got an email from Bill saying that he was free to bike. I told him I was going out in 30 minutes. He asked me if I could wait 60 minutes, and I said that it was possible. After I met him, we bumped into Bob in Groton. As we stood there chatting with Bob, Russ and two other women Bob knew cycled by. Bill introduced me to them by saying, "This is Jean." Then Bob said, "She's an animal!" Several years ago, I might have taken offense at being called an "animal," but, today, I love it. <3
Blog soundtrack: Post-it Note to Self:I love the frickin' Cure; see them in concert soon! Since I have written here every day for the last month and a half, I was going to take a vacation day today; however, as usual, I found something to say, not necessarily to my readers, but more importantly to myself. I thought about my writing here today, and I realized something. The writing that I do here is largely for me. The side effect is that you all enjoy it, and, in turn, you all give me wonderful compliments. I write about my life here, because, probably like most people, I'm still figuring out what my life is supposed to be. Each word, paragraph, and goofy video is a step forward in the adventure that is my life. Writing is a big pain the ass to some, err, like you Nate! (Did you know that everytime I mention his name in this blog I have to pay him $5? Well, I haven't paid him so far, but he thinks he's entitled to some sort of fee!) But to me, writing is the way I think things over. For example, whenever I've been really upset with someone, I write him/her a letter. Sometimes I've sent the letter and then really wished I didn't! But, most of the time, I compose a email, keep in my draft folder for a few days, and then I have no need to send it. Writing is my way of sorting things out, well, when it's not buying a lipstick. :-) Though, my blog is a bit different from that, because here, I don't think I'm upset with anyone, well, other than my Freshman Writing Seminar professor at Brandeis! Anyway, I just wanted to say again that I thank you all for reading and supporting me the way in which you have. I appreciate it immensely, and most importantly today, "How sweet it is to be loved by you." <3 Today's bike ride was short, well, only 25 miles. I biked with Bill and Leigh. Bill and I bumped into Leigh on the rail trail, and then we biked up to the parking lot in Nashua with her. I then mentioned I was meeting a friend for lunch at noon, so I should probably bike back. Bill said, "Ooohhhh." I said, "No, you two go off. I'll bike back on my own. I just wanted to get out this morning and get a few miles in with you." Then Bill said to Leigh, "Hey, do you want to ride back with Jean?" She said she would, and they both rode the entire way back home with me. <3 On the way back, we rode at a "conversation" pace (i.e., less than 18 m.p.h.). Leigh mentioned that she biked yesterday with one of her friends, Suzanne. She said that Suzanne had played volleyball and coached it. I had told Leigh I had played in high school and college. She then said, "And, I told her you were an unemployed technical writer." Leigh went on to say that Suzanne's company might be hiring a writer, and that I should send her an email. Given that this was only the third time I had ridden with Leigh, it was most thoughtful of her to think of me in this regard. She and I then spent most of the ride home discussing the trials and tribulations of kid ownership. <3 In a previous blog, I had mentioned, "Say It Forward" and "Practice Random Acts of Compliments", and today I practiced the "Random Acts of Driving Manuevers." I always try to be courteous to other drivers, but I hate it when I am, and the driver doesn't wave at me in thanks! When at the grocery store, I started to back out only to notice that a woman was getting out of the car to my right. So, I stopped. Even though I had clearance, I don't like to back out unless I know there are no people around. She got out, and then opened the rear door of her mini-van. I thought she had to retrieve small children, but no, she just had to get her purse which was thrown in the back. She locked her car, and then as she walked by my car, she stooped down so she could look right into my open window and said, "Thank you so much!" <3Oddly enough, as I was driving home, I stopped on Rt. 111 behind another car that was making a left onto Broadmeadow. Another driver was at the stop sign on Broadmeadow trying to make a left onto Rt. 111. Instead of zooming forward after the driver in front of me made the left, which I could have easily done, I stayed stopped and I waved the other driver onto Rt. 111. Her passenger's seat window was wide open, and she waved and smiled for about 30 seconds as she made her turn. <3 A year ago, life went so fast for me. But today, it goes in slow motion. As Bill once said to Bob, "Take time to smell the roses!" And, sometimes when you do, you'd be surprised by how much love you feel. <3
At 9:15 this morning, I met my boy, Bill, on the rail trail. This was "early" for Bill. But, I was glad of it, because I had a busy afternoon. As we stood there, I told Bill that I was not one to exercise before noon; however, these early bike rides really motivated me to do much more during the day. I said, "I'm just not a morning person, but I'm trying to make myself one." He said that he didn't think that was possible; you're either a morning person or a night person. But, he wished me luck trying to transform myself!
Then he said that given my riding, he would never have guessed I was not a morning person. I thanked him, but I divulged that during the first 30 to 45 minutes of the ride, I was really "sleep cycling!"
Bill told me that last night was the first night in a very long time that he had slept with the windows open. His wife has asthma, so during the warm temperatures, they sleep in A/C. Last night, given it was so cool, he opened the windows; , he heard so many sounds (the train, someone's car alarm, and nature in general) that they kept him awake for a long time and woke him up early. It was so early that he couldn't get back to sleep.
I mentioned that I had to shut one of my bedroom windows last night, because at around 4am, I heard the coyotes howling. Bill then said, "Hey, I can send Jim over there with his pellet gun!" I thanked him, but I said I just wanted them to be quiet. He said, "Well, good luck going out there and asking them to be quiet!" and then he laughed.
Yeah, I could picture myself in my nightgown, trekking down the road into the woods, finding the pack, and saying, "Excuse me, but could you guys keep it down? I'm trying to sleep! And, if you can't go to sleep, why don't you try watching Letterman like everyone else? Lastly, I don't howl during the day when you're trying to sleep, do I?" I thought about that, then I laughed as hard as Bill did.
As we headed down the trail, Bill thanked me for my donation to his PMC ride. He told me that while he had exceeded his minimum, by about $2K, it was always good to get more and not because it benefited him; it was because it benefited Dana Farber.
He then told me that one year, there was a chance to get a special 25th PMC anniversary jacket if you raised more than the minimum; otherwise, you just got a white t-shirt with "only a lousy Gatorade bottle on it."
One day he logged in and was shocked to see that he had gone over the minimum. Being a rider, he could check each and every donation. When he did, he realized that his wife had donated $500 to his ride so he would go over the minimum and get the jacket. Bill told me that this jacket was only worth $50 at most.
I could see why his wife would want him to have the jacket. Here was a man who loved to cycle and was dedicated to the PMC ride and its cause; she wanted to do something that meant the world to him, though their definitions of "the world" differed radically!
Anyway, Bill said to his wife, "While I appreciate it, next time you do something like that, could you let me know about it first?" To this day, they laugh about the jacket. Whenever he goes out of the house wearing it, she says, "Hey, be careful with that $500 jacket!"
Bill also had earned a shirt that went with that jacket. When he had his crash a few years ago, they cut off his $100+ biking shorts. When it came time to cut off that shirt, he said, "No way!" The nurse said, "We can't take it off you without cutting it, but it's going to hurt!" Bill said, "No problem!" And the nurse and his wife managed to get that shirt, which he still wears, off of him without cutting it to shreds.
As we cycled toward the Nashua parking lot, Bill tried to tell (no, more like convince me) that the PMC was a 190-mile rolling party. I asked, "Like crack on a bike?" He said, "Yeah!" I knew I could do the bike portion, but I was still not convinced that I could ever raised $6K. He told me that the fund raising was the tough part; the 190 mile bike was the reward. So be it, but I'm still don't think I'm going to do it!
He then told me that Lisa wasn't coming on the ride today. He said, "I think Lisa has low self-esteem." I asked him what woman didn't have low self-esteem. Then he said, "You know how you women are catty?" I immediately said, "Jeez, this isn't about me, is it? Because when I ride, I just ride for me. You and Leigh can both kill me on the hills, and I'm just here doing my thing whether I'm up front or lagging behind." Who was I kidding? I was just biking 35+ miles as fast as I could to make it home to my beloved liverwurst sandwich by 1pm! :-)
But apparently, Lisa didn't interpret me this way, even though I didn't intend any malice or competition. Ten years ago, I would have never thought this way; however, today, I thought, "That's her problem not mine." And, this was not about me being a better cyclist and rubbing it in her face; it was about her not being able to say "I'll become a better cyclist if I ride with better cyclists." That's the way I felt about riding with Bill and Leigh who were both stronger riders than me.
At about the 5 mile mark, Bill asked me if I would mind getting off the trail and riding the roads. I said I wouldn't. A few minutes later, his cell rang, and he said, "I need to pull over and get this." It was Jim. He had cycled almost to Pepperell, but he was now going to cycle back to Nashua to meet up with us.
Five minutes later, two guys passed Bill and I on the road with the lead cyclist saying to us as he passed up by, "Nice day, isn't it?" and then they blew by us. Bill said, "If I were Bob, I'd say they passed us with some attitude and now we should catch up to them." I laughed. And suddenly inhabited by the Ghost of Bob Present, I looked back and Bill and said, "Yeah, let's do it." Within three minutes, I was on the second cyclist's wheel with Bill right behind me. Just then I heard a huge "clunk," and I looked back. I saw Bill's water bottle go rolling across the road. I stopped, and I watched the "'tude" cyclists move on. Bill gathered his water bottle, and we headed to the parking lot.
Bill and I had already logged over 10 miles when we reached the parking lot. We were overdressed; it was time to take a layer of clothing off. I took off my long-sleeved shirt, and then Bill leaned his bike against Jim's car while we waited. I then saw Jim and said, "Jim's coming!'
Jim then shouted to us, "You had better not be peeing on my tire!" We both laughed, and then I thought, "How would I, as a woman, ever be peeing on his tire?" Then, I glanced down the front of my unitard, saw my chest, and thought, "Yes. I am still a woman." It was like I was one of the guys now, capable, if not really, of peeing on a car tire! How cool was that?!
Bill and I then told Jim about the guys with the 'tude, and then Jim said, "I think I saw them just a while ago." Bill and I both said that if we saw them again, we'd give them a piece of our mind, because NO ONE passes the, in Bill's words, "old guy and the woman!" God, what kind of group had I gotten myself into here! Ah, yes, a lovely group.
Jim, Bill, and I headed toward Hollis, NH, because we hadn't been there in a while, and we so loved the hills; okay, maybe they did, but I didn't! But, the route we took today was lovely; Hollis is some kind of wonderland and then some.
We would bike fast, and then there would be lulls. During these lulls, Bill would talk to me about Jeff, Bob, or Kenny. I told him that I thought Jeff was a great cyclist and could even be more so if he had a "real" bike instead of an all terrain bike. Bill agreed and said, "I keep telling him that he looks like a monkey f*cking a foot ball on that bike!" Again, I had to look down the front of my unitard to check for my chest; because, yet again, I was feeling like I was in some strange no person's land, stuck between guy and girl world, given the way Bill and Jim spoke to me!
When we passed by a certain right, Bill would say, "Bob would take a left there, but we're not!" Or another time, it would be, "Bob would go up that hill when you can take the right instead, so we're not!" At times, I felt that at each juncture, Bill should pee on a tree to mark HIS route!
Finally, Bill asked me, "Did I ever mention Kenny?" I said he hadn't. Kenny was one of his neighbors who thought he was a great cyclist. As it turns out, from Bill's assessment, Kenny was an okay cyclist, because Bill did him in on the "hill" (a 1% incline if that) on the rail trail. Kenny had asked Bill recently, "Did you ride with that girl?" Err, yes, I was THAT GIRL.
And you know what? I always wanted to be Marlo Thomas when I was 8 years old! Kenny asked, "Will I be able to keep up with you?" Bill said, "She can handle her own." Kenny asked again, "Will I be able to keep up with you?" Bill said again, "She can handle her own." Bill then laughed. I guess Kenny was really asking if I along with them would dust him.
At about 31 miles into our ride, Bill thought we needed to go check out the bridge.
When we made our way there, there was a huge "Bridge Closed" sign in the road. Bill said, "That isn't for us!" We made our way across the bridge, and there was no one to be found. I said to Bill, hoping to sound smart, you know, these are the same footings from the bridge before from what I could see on the Internet. Bill then said, "No! These look like they are, BUT they are new and were reconstructed to look like the old ones but six feet closer together, because of today's building standards for covered bridges." I stand corrected!
I asked Bill to send me the link to the bridge via email, and he said, "I can remember what I did 10 years ago, but I can't remember what I had for lunch yesterday." I said, "So, I should email you a reminder to email me then?" He said, "Yes!"
After we left the bridge, it was decided that we would have lunch on a bench by the clock in Pepperell. I had no lunch, just a granola bar, but we all sat down and enjoyed the rest. Bill and Jim talked about old cars, Jim and I talked about his cat and my cats (Bill spewed no anti-cat sentiments during this conversation), and then, as cyclists went by, we asked each other in a joking way if the cyclists had attitude. Bill and I based this on our earlier 'tude experience with the two cycling guys. We sat there, someone went by us, and we asked, "Do they have attitude?" as the 80-year-old couple cycling couple passed us. Then, we laughed.
I sat there on the bench, thinking, "Shit, I am one of the guys now. I'm talking about cars, eating, and assessing 'tude!" I was drawn back into reality though, when I looked at both Bill's and Jim's legs while we sat on the bench and noticed that mine were the only ones with razor stubble!
Shortly thereafter, we climbed back on our bikes. Jeff said that he was on his third marriage and then Jim said he was on his second. Jeff said, "After the second, I didn't say like most that I'd never get married again. No. I said that the next time I got married, it would be to a woman who had lots of money and no children. But, then I met my wife; I had no money, and she was in debt with two kids. Twenty-seven years later, we're still together." Hey, the third time is a charm!
We headed for the endpoint destination. About 200 yards before we got to Groton intersection, Jim said, "I have to stop at the Groton Library to check out a book." I asked, "Really? You're kidding?" Jim cycled ahead and veered left at the intersection. I said to Bill, "What is he doing?" Bill then said that he might need to "check out a book" now too. God, I'm so naive. I said, "Why couldn't you guys go in the woods? That's why we women envy you! Hello?" Bill said, "One, it would be hard for Jim, because he wears a unitard, and two, it would be difficult because you are around." Okay, so now I was a dotted line guy!?!?!
I told Jim that I was going to ride ahead so I could get home, because unlike them, I had to get Iz off the bus, clean the house, and get Nathan to his soccer game. I told Bill I'd go out with him tomorrow for as long as I could, and he agreed that we'd connect somehow.
I biked off, got Iz off the bus, cleaned the downstairs of the house, showered, and made it to Nate's first soccer scrimmage by 4pm. Shortly thereafter, I received two emails from Bill. The first was telling me that he just got home after completing 62 miles. I only did 40, and when I read his email, I was thinking, "Oh, male rivalry! I will so bike more than you one day, Bill!" When I got his second email, it was prefaced with, "I know I look like I've swallowed some Goth kid's jewelry." It was the x-ray of his broken pelvis! Hey, the mileage tease, the x-ray of his pelvis, I was now SO one of the guys!
As you may have already gathered, I love cycling with these guys, but today, I realized why. It wasn't for the exercise, the competition, or anything remotely athletic; it was purely for the men themselves. And, I don't mean that in an inappropriate way. These guys, while a bit younger than my Dad, if he were still alive, gave me in three hours every day what I kind of felt I had missed much of my life with my own father -- to be adored and admired by a good man. <3
I know it seems odd to follow a quote by Einstein with a song by the Ramones, but then again, they were both pure genius, weren't they?
I was sorting through the mail today when I came across two adult continuing education course catalogs. Usually, I just recycle these without ever looking at them. I think the last time I actually looked at one of these catalogs and subsequently took a course was back in the late-90s.
Jean's Adult Continuing Education Flashback Tangent: I believe it was in 1998; and I took a course on how to write a screenplay.The course text book was the "The Art of Dramatic Writing" by Lajos Egri, which still sits on my bookshelf. The class was in Cambridge, which was a good commute from where I lived.
I remember at the first class, the instructor went around the room asking each student what she or he thought about several different movies. For example, she asked, "Chinatown, what did you think of that?" Then, she'd go around in a circle, asking each student to make a comment. Finally, it was "Pulp Fiction, what did you think of that?" After speaking to seven people, each giving it an enthusiastic thumbs way up, it was my turn.
It was one of those situations in life, where I felt that if you were in a Rome, you had to review the movie as the rest of the Romans did; and in this case, I wondered if those seven Romans really liked the movie or if they were just saying so, because everyone knew "Pulp Fiction" was brilliant, um, yeah, right. But, it was a rare occasion in my life, where I thought "Screw it," and I said, "I disliked it immensely." It was funny, because then, instead of throwing me to the lions, the Roman Empress said, "Me, too!" Everyone looked at her rather shocked, and I sat there and smiled, thinking, well, besides me, there was one other person in the world who didn't like that movie.
Our first writing assignment was to write a scene based on an overhead conversation. Ah, and guess what? I still have that writing assignment; well, it helps to locate such a thing when it's been stuffed into the course text book for the last ten or so years.
I remember that three days before class I hadn't overhead any good conversations. One of my friends told me about meeting up with an ex-girlfriend, and I asked him if I could use his conversation as the basis for my scene; he agreed, well, as long as I changed the names to protect the romantically involved or not involved as the case may have been then. [Scene: Nick and Betsy having drinks in a bar]
Nick: So, how’s your life going? How’s Bob?
Betsy: Actually, I called him today. I realized that, after last night, because of you and I being together again, I had to tell him that he and I have to get divorced finally.
Nick: Oh, really. Is he working?
Betsy: He’s doing some consulting. Talking to him was a strange thing – weird [she shudders]. But, I know what I have to do. I should have done it already. [She looks at Nick for his reaction]. I know. I know.
Nick. Well, you’ve been separated for seven years. Seven, that’s right, isn’t it?
Betsy: Yes, seven.
Nick: I think for your own sake that you would want to, I don’t know, resolve it.
Betsy: And it’s not that I think, that is, I don’t want you to that that I’m assuming anything should happen or would happen between us again because of last night. I just want to resolve things with him. I’ve come to realized that we had something good together.
Nick: I think regardless of everything else you should just want to do it. Do it for yourself.
Betsy: Yeah, I know. But being with you again…I didn’t know what I had until I lost it. I messed up, and I’m sorry. I wasn’t committed to the relationship. I admit I wasn’t being…well, you’re a really good person. You really are. With everything else we had, I somehow managed to overlook that. I’m sorry, but the last couple of years have been really bad for me. I mean, I’ve dated other people, and I’ve just overlooked that. You’re a really good person. I was so stupid. I’m so sorry, and I do love you.
Nick: The fact that I hung around for five years should tell you that I love you, too. But, I want you to know that it was a very painful experience for me, especially the way you ended it. You kept telling me you’d divorce him. Then, when I asked you to move in, you moved in with your mother. Well, what do you think that said to me?
Betsy: I know, but this time it’s going to be different. I’m really glad that we’re talking about this. I called him today, because I realized that I don’t want to mess things up again. I mean, there’s no reason, or I’ve got no reason or whatever, to think that things can be like they were between us. But, I don’t want to lose you again, even if we’re just friends. I don’t want to lose you, because it’s been a lonely two years without you. Dating other people made me realize how good I had it. [Long pause] And you? How’s your life…that person you were seeing?
Nick: I went out with someone for about six weeks. And she…
Betsy: No. I don’t want to know.
Nick: No. I want to tell you.
Betsy: You don’t have to tell me, and I really don’t want to know.
Nick: Other than that one person that was as close to another relationship as I got. I dated two other people. My point is that I’ve had a difficult time with it. Because I’ve loved you all along. I hung in there with you for a long time. It’s really difficult for me to believe what you say about getting divorced and being committed to me again.
[From the bar, someone is overheard saying, “I know that guy, and he’s really fucked up.”
Nick: Hey, I think they’re talking about me over there. [Laughs]
After that, I survived two or three more commutes to class, and then I gave up going. I think that to undertake anything like this, or most things, it helps to be into them. At that point, I was swamped in relationship issues, and my mind was definitely elsewhere.
Also, while I liked the Empress for disliking "Pulp Fiction," it was her once-a-class mention that she and Madonna's sister were BFFs that drove me over the edge. I think it definitely lessened her screenwriter creds with me. Sure, if she had been BFFs with John Hughes, Paddy Chayefsky, Oliver Stone or was even the grand niece of Orson Welles, but BFFs with Madonna's sister?! Who is Madonna's sister anyway?!
So, when the catalogs arrived today, I thought it might be time to somewhat consider President Obama's Educational Stimulus plan. No. I was not ready to change my career to one that was "hot" like healthcare. God, I was one of those people who had no business being in healthcare. When I skinned my knee on the rocks at Hanauma Bay, I almost passed out in the Pacific Ocean at the sight of my own blood; Suzebabe can attest to that.
Before I opened the first catalog, I expected to see the usual course titles -- "Knitting for Ninnies," "Spanish I," "Microsoft Excel in an Evening," and "Do-It-Yourself-Root-Canals." Well, I was thinking it'd be the usual stuff that "Adult Continuing Education" is so often made of.
Whoa, was I wrong! Apparently, things had changed quite a bit in the last 10 years. It was now, what couldn't you study on four consecutive Thursday nights for $90 with a $5 registration fee?! I was mesmerized when I poured through the pages; I had found at least 36 ways to occupy my Fall and Winter nights!
ZUMBA - Join the Party!
Is it just me or does this sound like an exercise craze that the Teletubbies may have started? Or does it involved running around a room with a remote in your hand trying to dance with your Roomba, err, Zumba being the ballroom dancing perk of owning said robotic device?
Getting Paid to Talk - An Introduction to Professional Voice-Acting
Getting paid to talk? Where had this profession been all my life? Jeez, if I had started this when I was two-years-old, I would be Madonna's BFF by now, never mind her sister, whoever she is!
Basics of Tea
How complex is tea? You get the bag out of the box, throw it in a cup of boiling water, and voila!
Learn How to Blog
Been there, done that, and it's not that hard. Next, please!
Knitting Hats & Mittens
When I saw this, I thought, "I should learn how to knit." It's not like I really want to learn how to knit, but doesn't every woman feel that knitting urge at some point in her life? I remember when my Mom tried to teach me (and I won't say "taught me" because I was totally unsuccessful) how to knit when I was 10 or so. The first thing I knitted was a bright green scarf.............for my cat, Jerry! Hey, even with a fur coat, you can still get cold, especially when my Dad kept the thermostat at 62 degrees every night during the energy crunch of the 70s.
Quick & Easy Stress Reduction Techniques for the Workplace I bet you that this one sells out!
Shower Singing in Public
When I first read this, I expected the course description to read, "Learn solid vocal concepts in a hands-on clothes-off environment. Meet at the stall showers in the school locker room." But, no, it said this, "Each student will receive a 42-page booklet of vocal exercises and a 60-minute practice CD for follow-up home study." Jeez, at least, the instructor could have thrown in a soap-on-a-rope!
Installing Crown Molding and Trim
When I first bought my house, my friend and co-worker, Jim, went with me to Home Depot to help me get a new counter top; the house was a total wreck when I bought it. I remember my friend, Liz, telling me that after she saw the upstairs bathroom that she thought, "Oh, poor Jean!" The woman I bought the house from had done nothing to it (other than put in new windows) for 20 years.
Jim had measured everything for me in regard to the counter, so all I had to do was pick out the counter top, and then wait for Home Depot to install it. While there, Jim thought I should pick up a few things, so I could start some home projects on my own, like dry walling over the horsehair plaster walls. At the time, I thought, "Yeah, I can do that!" but as Jim and I put the blue tape and the huge plastic container of goop (yeah, there's some more construction-appropriate term for this goop) in my shopping cart, I was beginning to think (no, more like kid myself), "Yeah, I can do that!" As a house warming present, Jim gave me a "Fix-it Yourself" house manual. Err, the last time I saw that book, it was in March on the bookcase in the Nantucket house. Shhhhh, don't tell Jim!
Anyway, at 47 years old, I know I prefer to have someone else do my taxes and to do my home repair for me! So, when I read this course description, no, it was never up for consideration; however, it made me chuckle for a bit about the previously mentioned events.
Introduction to Welding
Okay, the handle bars on my mountain bike came undone from the stem thingy a few years ago, and it looks like that to remedy this, it should be welded. Should I spend $330 to do it myself? Oh, plus I have to invest in safety glasses. Yet again, this is something I never would think of doing, but the course description was very inviting. "If you ever wanted to try your hand at welding...." It almost sounds like welding is as easy as knitting your cat a scarf!
Three Peasant Soups: Italian Wedding, Pasta Fagiolo, Stretch-a-Belly Trio of Soups: Cream of Broccoli, Beef Barley, & Italian Ragout New England Clam "CHOWDA" THREE classes entirely devoted to soup! Apparently, soup is to the 21-century what fondue was to the 70s!
Chicken Fabrication So, what did you think when you read this? I thought it was a class about how to build a chicken from the beak down. Lego chickens? Okay, I don't watch the Food Network at all, and if I did, I would know that fabricating a chicken means that you are "cutting a chicken into its recognizable parts." Upon further reading, this is a skill that can save you money. "Fabricate it yourself and save money and utilize the entire chicken." In some places, they eat chicken feet. Err, no, thanks!
MP3 Players (iPods) & iTunes I'm not the most technical person in the world, and I'm not the least, but a class for this? Okay, maybe I was being too hard on the less technical. Surely, in various frazzled states the last few months, I had posed some pretty stupid questions to one of my friends.
"My external hard drive is NOT showing up in Windows Explorer!" To which he responded, "Unplug it and then plug it back in." Okay, that worked. "My wireless isn't working!" To which he responded, "Is your wireless button on?" Oops! I turned it back on. Okay, that worked. "I keep tripping over my sneaker laces!" To which he responded. "Jean, tie your sneaker laces!"
Okay, that last bit was untrue, but I guess I do understand how sometimes technology, even the simple stuff, can throw you for a loop when you're a newbie or just a tad frazzled.
Basic Dog Obedience
I gave up on this long ago. People, like Bill, think cats have minds of their own, well, Monty does, too. Okay, maybe the poor guy has been around three cats for so long that he has adapted the cat attitude, and that is why when I tell him to get out of my herb bed, he looks at me and laughs. But, Steve, he's so cute. You know you want him, and he'll look so good on the sailboat!
Strategies for Winning at Craps
"Have you ever wondered what all that shouting at the craps table was all about? Have you ever wanted to play craps, but never understood the game?" Nope!
Beginners Swing
When I first read this, well, I read it wrong. You know how when you look at something, you read it, and then you say to yourself, "What was that?!?!?!!?" Yeah, well, anyway, when I read this, it was as "Beginning Swingers." I thought, "Wow, this adult continuing education is really, err, reaching out to adults now!"
Anyway, while many of the courses looked interesting, I will continue on with "Find a New Technical Writing Job in a Year or Less" and "Riding the Rail Trail in a Fierce and Psycho Manner."<3
Today is usually “Tuesdays with Jeff,” as he and I have met for lunch for the past few weeks every Tuesday. We meet where he works under a tree right outside the building, unpack our lunches, and then we chat about life for an hour or so. Today, I emailed him and asked him if he wouldn’t mind rescheduling as 1) I had children to shuttle to and fro, and 2) I really wanted to get out there with the Fabulous and Fifty-Plus Cycling Dudes, Ltd. again; thus, this week, it’s “Wednesday with Jeff” instead.
Bill emailed me this morning saying that he’d be on the trail about 10am. He had to take his truck in for some work. He emailed me last night with the following note:
Hey Jean, This is just an FYI. I wanted you to see that Bob isn't the only cyclist who can attract the girls. He has his girlfriends and I have mine!
He sent along a picture of him at a stop during the Pan Mass challenge last month; there was a young girl in the picture with him who lives in our town and is a cancer survivor. She was at the stop waiting for him, and there gave him a big smooch. I went to his site, and his goal was to raise $6000, and he did; he actually exceeded that by raising $6,660! I donated, because as far as fighting cancer goes, every little bit helps.
I headed to the rail trail at 9:45am, and as I passed by my neighbor, she asked, “Riding with the guys again?” I said, “Yep!”
Bill got to the rail trail about 5 minutes after me, and then we were off down the trail. I never know what the conversation will be about when we make our way up to Nashua. This morning, after we passed two equestrians, who were taking up the breadth of the rail trail, but moved over after Bill shouted, “Passing on your left!”, I sensed it might be about equestrians when Bill said, “You know, they’re not supposed to be on horses on the trail past Groton. It’s those Groton people!”
He then told me that when the rail trail was first proposed that all the towns that it was going to pass through had been in favor of it, except Groton. He said, “I don’t know what they were so bothered about. It was like they thought the people from Ayer were going to invade their backyards via the trail, rape and pillage, and then steal all their lawn furniture! How we’d ever steal a lawn chair while riding a bike I don’t know!”
I don’t know if you have this town rivalry where you live, but it was clear to me since I lived in this town that it is, well, not as ritzy as two of the towns that border it. Even I, when I first moved here, had been accused of being a “Sudbury snob” by Nathan’s Dad. Of course, the first thing he did when he made it big with Lucent stock options (err, back in the olden days when they were worth something) was move to a “nicer” town. Hmmm, who was the snob now?! :-)
Anyway, Bill relayed his story of riding the trail and encountering three equestrians who had stopped, dismounted, and were blocking the trail. He told them that they were not supposed to be on the trail at this point, and one of the riders shot back that one of the Groton selectmen had told her that they could. Bill then said, “Well, he doesn’t own the rail trail; and if that’s true, he might want to put it in the newspaper, because as far as I know, you shouldn’t be riding these horses here.” To tell you the truth, and I love horses, but it’s really disgusting to bike by and sometimes through decaying horse poop that’s been deposited directly on the trail. Personally, I don’t think horses should be allowed on the trail at all, and if someone's horse poops on the trail, they should have to clean it up (i.e., carry a shovel with them).
Bill’s dislike of the equestrians seemed to be somehow linked to the people in Groton; that is, all the equestrians were women from Groton, and thus, all women from Groton were evil. Although, I don't believe he really thought this, because his sister lives in Groton. It was just that a small portion of the people were obnoxious, just as it was everywhere else in life. He then said, “When you pass them with their baby carriages, you tell them you’re passing, and they move, but you can tell they don’t want to!” I had to laugh, because sometimes I got the same feeling. Of course, Bill lived in Groton until he was in his early teens, but somehow I think the Groton he grew up in then was very different than the Groton he encountered on the rail trail every now and then.
And, then I had to ask, “Is Bob biking with us today?” Bill told me that Bob had found another “girlfriend” on the rail trail yesterday; her name was Heather. Bill laughed as he said, “Yeah, I’m sure Bob asked her if she wanted to see the back roads.” Remember, this was Bob’s cycling pick-up line; well, Bob didn’t really pick up these women; he just picked them up to cycle with him. Bill told me that today was Bob’s club ride; err, these were the grueling rides for which no one usually showed up, because as Bill said, “He shouldn’t be surprised no one comes if he’s going to kick the snot out of them every ride!”
I asked if anyone else would be joining us today, and Bill said he didn’t think so. He them mentioned Jim. Jim was the one who hit a bump on the rail trail and ended up having a pretty bad accident. Bill said he wasn’t sure how Jim was and then said pointing to his cell phone, “If this doesn’t ring soon, I’m going to call him.” About 5 minutes later, a cyclist passed us and Bill shouted to me, “Oh, we’ve got to stop for this guy!!!” It was the infamous Jim!” Bill introduced me, and this is where I knew again that these rides were just as much about socializing as cycling.
Bill asked Jim how he was doing. Jim said this was his first day out since the accident, and he felt a bit “woozy.” Of course, it wouldn’t have been complete unless we heard all the gory details of his accident. Apparently, he hit a bump, his front tire went up in the air, his back tire went up in the air (he estimated it was 12 feet, though I don’t know if that’s possible), then his bike went over and his shoulder and head crashed against the pavement, shattering his helmet. Jeez, he’s lucky he didn’t hurt himself worse than he did. To add insult to injury, he had to get back on his bike and ride back to the parking lot in this state.
He told us that when he was in the air that he hung on so tight to his bike that his handlebar grips were bent 45 degrees inward. I was reminded of the scene from “Planes, Trains, and Automobiles” where Steve Martin digs his fingers into the dashboard after John Candy drives down the highway the wrong way! Bill was quick to say, pointing to Jim's grips, “Don’t replace those; they’re your battle scars!” Jim mentioned he had a nice bruise on his thigh then, and Bill said, “If I had to show you my battle scars, I’d have to pull down my shorts, and I’m sure no one wants to see that.” Jim agreed and said, “Yeah, we’re at the age where no one wants us to pull down our pants anymore!”
We couldn’t help but noticed that in one of the water bottle cages on Jim’s bike was a can of day-glo orange spray paint. It would appear that while Jim had fallen victim to the huge bump on the rail trail, he was going to make damn sure that no one else did by giving it a scarlet letter so to speak.
After 10 minutes of chat, we got back on our bikes and headed to Nashua. Jim took a sharp right when we got there, yelled something, and then headed into the woods with his bike. I was thinking, “Where the hell did he go?” until Bill said, “Oh, he needs a rest stop.” Men are so lucky that way. Yes, sometimes we women do wish we had your equipment, especially when it comes to peeing in the woods!
When we arrived in the parking lot, we did not see Bob. Bill said, “Well, someone must have showed up for his ride, or he’s out showing Heather the back roads!” Jim came back out of the woods and joined us. Then Bill asked us where we’d like to ride. Unlike Bob, who we just followed, Bill offered several different cycling rides, and then said, “So, what do you want to do?” This happened throughout the 35 mile ride today. Jim and I always said, “We don’t care,” and then Bill would say, “Okay, let’s do this.” It became clear that Bill’s cycling nation was a democracy whereas Bob’s cycling nation was a totalitarianism.
When we headed off, Bill said to me, “Jean, you don’t mind if we go by this bridge in Pepperell to see how it’s coming along, do you?” I said that I didn’t, and I wondered why we were going by a bridge to check on construction, but I didn’t ask. But, Bill offered more information by saying, “Jim and I have been checking on this bridge while it’s been under construction. Bob doesn’t care, but whenever Jim and I are together, we stop by and see how it’s going.”
After biking about 5 minutes, we were at the construction site. There was a big detour sign; however, there was a makeshift bridge over the river for pedestrian and bike traffic. We cycled onto the bridge, and then Bill stopped. He and Jim chatted about the construction. Apparently, there was a covered bridge here once upon a time; however, it fell apart. Now a replica covered bridge was being constructed somewhere in New York, and when it was finished, it would be placed here over the river.
And, while I knew these rides were about exercise and socializing, they had suddenly become educational when we turned off the rail trail to check on Bill and Jim’s bridge; thus, click on this link and read further if you want to know about the bridge. http://www.town.pepperell.ma.us/historical/CoveredBridge.html
I think it would bore you to describe the ride in detail. It was 35 miles of lovely back roads, which were punctuated every now and then by hills that had me muttering under my breath, as the 65-year-old Bill cruised up and by me on each and every one, “No more wine!” The best part about these rides are really not the rides themselves; it’s the people. I am enchanted by what they say, what they do, and who they are.
For example, when we came into Dunstable center, we passed a church with a structure to the left of it. And Bill shouted, “Jim, is that a a gazebo or a bandstand?” Okay, who knew there was even a difference! Jim said that he’d have to consult his architecture handbook to answer that, and Bill said, “It’s a gazebo, because it has public access!” Again, who knew!
Again, at one juncture in the ride, Bill was taking a public vote in his cycling land. He said, “If we go left, we have to go up the back of that huge hill by Leigh’s house. If we go right, we miss it.” Again, both Jim and I said we didn’t care what we did. The traffic was bad, so we had to stand there for a few minutes until the traffic in both directions had ceased. While standing there, an old auto came up the road and took a left onto the road we were standing on. When Bill saw it, he said, “Oh, that’s a [pause] ’53 Ford Victoria!” And, if you don’t know what that car looks like (hey, I had NEVER seen one before in my life!), here’s a picture.
As the driver passed, I could see all his windows were open, and Bill shouted, “’53 Victoria?” As the driver rounded the turn, he shouted “Yes!” out of his window. After he was gone, Bill said to Jim, “I had a ’51 Victoria. I had a lot of good times in that car.” Here was where, as a woman, I didn’t comment. I felt like I had a one-day pass into guy territory here, where I knew I didn’t belong, and besides, I pretty much knew what he meant. Jim didn’t say a thing.
Then Bill, remembering he needed to attend to his cycling nation, said, “Let’s cycle like men, take the left, and ride up that hill.” Jim then said to me, “Jean, how does it feel to be about to cycle like a man? I’m sure you wouldn’t pass the test!” I laughed, but, secretly, I loved it that Bill considered me one of the guys.
Today’s ride, while a Democracy, involved a lot of hills. My thighs screamed at me when I got home. When Jim and I were going up the hills, lagging behind Bill, Bill would shout back at us, “No Granny gears!” And Jim and I would say, “Too late!”
When we got back to the beginning of the rail trail, we all sat down on the benches. Jim and Bill ate their sandwiches. Bill tried to convince me to ride back up the rail trail with him to escort Jim back to the parking lot, but I declined saying that I had to clean the house and fetch children. Bill said, “The cleaning can wait!” If I had biked up and back, I would have biked 60 miles total. While it was tempting (not!), I said that I’d head home.
As I was about to leave, Jim told me that it was a pleasure to ride with me. I told him likewise and added that this was the most mileage I had done in years in the last week. I said that I had a 20-mile route on busy routes, and that “as I get older” I was less and less enthused about biking on the busy roads. When I said, “as I get older,” both Jim and Bill laughed. Bill said, “As you get older?!” Jim said, "Let us tell YOU about as you get older!" Just as it had been good to be one of the boys earlier, it was now even better to be young.
Then Jim said, “I noticed that you’re a spinner.” I asked, “Oh, I am?” Bill then said, “Yeah, she’s like Lance Armstrong and ; spinning is what all the top cyclist do now! But, NOT Bob; he’s a masher. I’m somewhere in between.” I said to Jim, “I don’t really think about how I cycle. I just do what I do; it’s just me.” Bill then said, “That’s good, and Bob would like that. Always be you!” And, so I shall be! <3
When I am Reincarnated I Want to Come Back as a Cat Note: I biked over hill and dale today and was gone for three hours. When I got home, this furry lump had not moved one inch since I last saw him. Okay, maybe I shouldn't be surprised by that given he’s a cat, and perhaps as I stood there, a tad sore and achy, I realized I was just jealous of the furry lump!
I am a devoted mother of two wonderful children, a writer (technical by day and creative by night), an avid baker and crock pot goddess (♥ Sucra), a runner and a cyclist, a rescuer of pets, a vintage fashionista, and a dispenser of social glue.
