New Years Tradition

For the first time in years, decades probably, I spent New Year's Day curled up in front of the TV, watching the Tournament of Roses Parade. When I was a kid, I guess I thought that's what everyone did, that's what you were supposed to do on New Year's. We watched lots of parades, it seems. (Maybe that's because there were four channels to choose from, not 250 channels, and a much limited list of programming.)

This year Bob Eubanks was one of the announcers, and was one of several familiar faces, which also included Cloris Leachman and Jack Hannah.

It was fun to watch and listen as an adult, and learn all kinds of interesting facts about the participants in the parade:

• The Tournament of Roses Parade is now 120 years old. The Vally Hunt Club created the parade as a way to advertise Pasadena's great weather, even in winter. I thought it was particularly fitting that the Anchorage, Alaska, Visitors Bureau had a float in the parade!
  
  
• The Rotary Club was started in Chicago, and derived its name from the fact that the men would rotate homes in which the met? (it's true!)
  
  
• The hooves of the horses in the parade are painted with black shoe polish (not sure why, though).
  
  
• John Philip Sousa once played in the USC Marching Band (who participate yearly, I believe)
  
  
• Sons and Daughters of the Old West are a riding club made up of descendants of TV and movie Westerns.
  
  
• The Lions Club reproduced a newly discovered photo of Helen Keller and Annie Sullivan on their float.
  
  
• Andalusian horses get darker as they age.
  
  
• An Essex, England band financed its trip by going on a TV reality show and won 40,000 in either dollars or pounds.
  
  
• Another band traveling a long distance was from Puebla, Mexico - the Aguilas Doradas, Golden Eagles. They win the prize for best headgear, for sure!
  
  
• A number of bands, including the band from Hawaii, are specifically assembled for this parade - which means the musicians only have a couple of days to play together as a group.
  
  
• Bob Eubank's wife traveled with Bob Hope and the USO.
  
  
• Huntington Beach has been known as Surf City since 1925, ever since a legendary surfer from Hawaii moved there, bringing his surfboard and his sport.
  
  
• The word "buccaroo" is originally derived from the Spanish word "vaquero", which means cowboy.
  
  
• June Lockhart's parents were set up by Thomas Edison.
  

Some other highlights for me were seeing the Penn State marching band, football team and cheerleaders.


"We are!" "Penn State!"
"We are!" "Penn State!"








Watching the fabulous band from Prairie View A&M University. They were definitely the most energetic of the bands, in my opinion.

I can imagine walking, even marching, for 5 miles, but dancing!?


My favorite floats, judged on beauty and interest, were The Bollywood float (the photo at the top of this entry, the Vera Bradley float,





the City of Duarte / City of Hope float,










and the Rain Bird Corporation float.







Watching the parade was enjoyable not only because of the nostalgia factor, it was fun and interesting and beautiful all at once. Maybe I'm going to have to revive this tradition!

(All photos from www.marching.com website)

Drastic Changes

I hate playing around with my hair. That's basically the reason I grew it so long. Of course, once it got growing, it got to be a little contest with self to see just how long I was willing to let it go.

A couple of years ago when I cut a considerable length off of it, I was able to donate it to Locks of Love. However, I only had 6 inches, instead of the preferred 10 inches. That's okay, they Locks of Love can sell it 'to offset costs', as they say. But this time around, I wanted to give enough hair to make a wig.

So yesterday, my favorite hairdresser, Olivia, put my hair into a bunch of smaller ponytails - after asking me about sixteen times if I really wanted to cut that much off - and made my head several pounds lighter. (It will be interesting to see if it makes any difference in frequency of headaches.)

Even though I've been through this once before, fairly recently, I was still surprised at just how much hair that made, when gathered all together. I've been told I've got a lot of hair, but blonde hair tends to be smaller in circumference than other colors, so it appears thinner... not true here.

We ended up with a big hunk of ponytail about as big around as my wrist.

Here are some of the fun residuals. I posted the photo of me and Olivia on my Facebook page, and have gotten a bunch of comments on it. One of my friends said that she'd done the exact same thing yesterday. If I'm reading her comment right, my appointment was at 1:00, and hers was at 2:00! I wonder if she went to the same shop...

Is there such a thing as too much time spent online??

Okay, I realize that I am not an active person (coughunderstatementcough). That part I get: sitting all the time means that you're not getting enough exercise, no matter why you're sitting. You could be reading, writing, crafting, solving world peace, or stalking connecting with people on Facebook.

But really, I love connecting with people! And I think it's a really cool thing that these friends whom I haven't seen or had real contact in decades, I can communicate with them, let them know they're in my thoughts, know a little bit about their lives, their families, their sorrows, their joys.

(And send them oh-so-thoughtful-and-free cyber gifts from time to time, like an egg that hatches into a little puppy, f'rinstance.)

Oh the joy I feel when the little notification turns out to be a friend request - especially from someone who really is an old friend, not just some passing acquaintance through work or some other network.

"Will you be my friend?"
"You want me to be your friend?? Yes! Yes! Of course we are friends!!"

But if you talk about Facebook, people think that's the only thing you're doing, regardless if half your online time is spent doing all your shopping, correspondence, flickring and blogging.

I've been told (by good friends, actually) that I really need to get a life.

Hmmm. While that might be a valid observation, even if a cruelly delivered one, I still maintain that spending time virtually connecting with people is valuable, particularly when it's not possible to connect with them in person.

That's my story and I'm sticking with it.

Sick of sick, sick of alone

For the past four and a half days, I've been cooped up in my condo, only venturing out when I can force myself to take the dog out. She, meanwhile, has been loving having me home, and has been cuddling up to her sick mom quite nicely most of the time.

It's amazing, though, that even though I'm stuck here, I don't exactly feel disconnected. I've been more or less living on Facebook, not only trying to beat high scores on Tetris, but checking out what friends are posting, looking at pictures, commenting on friends' pages.

The outside world seemed pretty close two days ago, when looking out the window, I noticed a dog walker friend walking with a police officer, quite purposefully. As they approached the corner, a few squad cars and unmarked cars pulled up. The focus of everyone's attention was a distraught looking woman, hands gripping a handkerchief as she spoke to them, my friend obviously trying to comfort her. I'll have to wait until she and I bump paths walking our dogs to find out the story on that one...

I also received a text message from a dear college friend, telling me that she and other members of her family had just sung her father into the next life. I called her immediately, but of course, there is nothing real to say beyond 'sorry'. Her father was a pastor; they know his salvation is sure. They knew the end was upon them. Doesn't really help. Prolonged or sudden, it's never easy.

Yesterday was also a day for family contacts. I played a little game on the FB sites of some nieces and nephews, then got email news about my sister's knee surgery, and pictures of another sister's grandson. Chatting back and forth, sharing little bits of each other's lives, it makes us seem so much closer.

I received phone calls from both of my bosses - one preparing some work for next week; the other had a recap of what I'd missed and plans for two weeks hence.

Then later last night, another email from church, regarding songs for this coming Sunday. I'd also had contact with my pastor in previous days concerning the Thanksgiving Eve joint service with our Hispanic sister congregation.

And of course, almost every day, my son has been around for part or most of the day.

So why do I feel so cut off?

It's that human touch, that face-to-face factor that's so important. There are times when I do just want to be alone, but if I go for extended periods without some serious human interaction, my extroverted spirit gets restless, lonely.

We read a The History of Love for book club, and one of the main characters was a slightly crazy old man who lived by himself. He would do odd things now and then to make sure that people saw him, noticed him - like dropping all his change on the floor as he was buying something at the convenience store. He'd get food delivered to his house so that he'd know at least one person had seem him that day.

So yes, I did in fact just order in pizza even though I've got a fridge full of food. I'm sick of being sick, and I'm sick of being alone, and I'm sick of being cooped up. Three seconds with the pizza man isn't exactly my idea of high quality discussion time, but at least I'll know someone else has seen me today!


ED: Well, pardon me for whinging a little... it's nice that the cold finally made it's way out of my system (only after 2 and a half weeks), and I seem to be left with the obligatory runny nose and cough that are more or less constant companions during the winter in Chicago.

Enough with the non-point!

First of all, you gotta give Hillary props for her speech last night. That girl spoke her butt off! I realize I can be a sucker for political speeches, but I won't lie. I got teary-eyed. Partly because I was wondering how she was feeling, speaking on behalf of Barack and Joe, instead of herself. Partly because - hey! - she was inspiring! And she really came through. Like she said, she is a proud Democrat, and she proved herself to be a real team player.

There's only one thing. She kept doing the non-point. You know, that not-quite-pointing, kind-of-fist that someone makes when they want to point but don't want to seem like they're pointing at you.

It seems to me that this little gesture was made popular by none other than Hillary's husband, when he was running for president. And now not only politicians but a lot of other people have inexplicably embraced it as a nice non-offensive point-making... non-pointing... thing.

And I'm sorry, but it just looks weird. Point at me if you want. Or use your whole open hand. But the non-point looks like your almost fist is on an elastic band where your arm can't quite stretch out; it bounces back in and just looks awkward.

G'head! Uncle Sam did it - he inspired a whole nation to enlist by pointing at them! Be direct. I want YOU to make your point!

Are you my neighbor?

Yesterday on my way to work, I stopped off at my 7-Eleven. Instead of the usual homeless guy sitting on the window ledge, there was this (presumably drunk) guy, sleeping. How do we react to this? Call the police? ER? Try to get him taken to a shelter or something?

Seriously, what is the proper response? Pray for him? Surreptitiously take his picture, hoping no one will notice?

I saw a guy drunk out of his mind and trying to sleep on the sidewalk once years ago when I used to work in a different neighborhood (Belmont/Pulaski area, where unfortunately the sight of drunk Poles was all too common). The sidewalk he was on happened to belong to the bar where he most likely got trashed, and I notified the people inside, hoping that they'd do something for one of their patrons. (I don't think they did squat.)

Still freshly post-Sankofa-generally-thinking-about-righteousness mindset, this kind of thing keeps churning around. Wish I had me some answers.

Half-Blood Prince!

Well, I'm not as much a fan of the movies as I am of the books, but the new trailer for the Half-Blood Prince movie looks really good. (Even if the half-blood prince himself isn't in it!) Will the movie disappoint again? Who knows. I am still looking forward to it. I just hope they do justice to the scene where Harry is chasing Snape and Malfoy off the Hogwarts grounds at the end, and Snape screams at Harry, "Don't. Call. Me. Coward!" As I read, it was as if the movie was playing out in my head, it was so visual.

Here's the trailer, also available directly on youtube and moviefone.

Birthday plans

So I've sent out this email invitation to some friends, and am waiting (im)patiently to see if we can make a party of it for this Sunday. I'm so excited!!

TO MY BESTEST BUDDIES,

I am beginning to feel my age (beginning, hah!), and want to start doing things I've always thought were cool, but never got around to it, didn't think I could spare the money, whatever.

So my birthday is coming up next week, and I think it would be fun to celebrate by doing one of those things I always wanted to do - CHICAGO BOAT TOUR!!
(you can tell I'm excited by the double exclamation points!!)

This coming Sunday, July 27, I'm booking tickets four an architectural cruise with Wendella Boat Tour. Do you want to come along? They have an internet price of $22. (Realizing, of course, that our friendship is PRICELESS!!)

Let me know ASAP, and I'll book enough tickets for all of us.

Hoping you'll be able to come,
Waiting with baited breath (get it - baited - boats - fish - BAIT!!!!!),
Me



I hope, I hope, I hope, I hope they can all come. I've never done a Chicago boat anything, except for that one time I could wish I could forget when I was young and stupid and got drunk and then had a seizure on a guy's boat, then got back to my apartment really late the next morning, and there was Big you-know-who coming out of my apartment because everyone was worried about me because I wasn't answering my phone and they didn't know where I was, and thought maybe I had a seizure or something (which I had, but...) and so you-know-who came up and we had been separated for over a year by then and it was really weird and uncomfortable because it was kind of evident that I was still a little hung over - not to mention the fact that I had been with another guy - plus the fact that he was feeling a bit put out by coming all the way to the North Side to see if I was all right like some kind of big humanitarian gesture or something, so that experience doesn't really count. Plus I could never make the toilet flush on that boat.

So anyway, it would be nice to get a positive boating experience for my birthday this year!

(By the way, all these photos were lifted from the Wendela website and are from the architectural tour.)

Because it's always good to know these things

Don't laugh until you've taken the test yourself...


Created by OnePlusYou

Oh, Thank Heaven!

I love my 7-Eleven. I really do! Every morning I stop there on my way in to work or church for my 24 oz cup of steaming Joe.

The people there know me and my coworker who carpools with me. They greet us cheerfully and enthusiastically every day.

My preferred drink is a fake latte, using their steamed milk mix (which is really, really hot, by the way!), added to vanilla nut flavored coffee, with a dash of cinnamon.

It tastes and smells really good, except when it's been spilled all over the floor of your car. Twice.

The first time it was because they went environmentally responsible, replacing the styrofoam cups with paper ones (good!), and topping them off with new lids that come off as soon as the cup falls on the car floor (really, really bad!). Well, my car was overdue for an inside & out wash.

The second time was because there were no hot sleeves (needed for really hot steamed milk mix), and so the guy gave me one of those cardboard cup holder things, which of course is useless when you only have one cup to put in it. Grrr... At least the second time around I was able to clean it up myself before another trip to the hand car wash was needed.

This is one of my wonderful 7-Eleven guys. He's amazingly cheerful every morning, considering he's usually been working since the night before. (I cut myself out of the photo, since I didn't know how to photoshop away my big belly. My thought was that it was less creepy to ask if I could take a photo with him, rather than take a photo of just him... my friends assure me it's really not that much less creepy.)

It's great being known, even if the sum of almost every one of our conversations is basically, "Good morning." "Good morning, miss. Have a grrreat one!"

Oh, thank heaven for my 7-Eleven!

Walking

Yesterday my friend and I took advantage of the beautiful day and took a walk down McCormick Ave, from Bridge Street to Dempster.

I've always wondered what kind of people actually walked those paths, that extend from Greeen Bay Road all the way down to Devon Avenue.

Well, turns out that I'm that kind of people! We walked for almost 3 miles, round trip. It was just the perfect length for someone like me who doesn't get much exercise.

The walkway has beautiful gardens, lovely green spaces, lots of picnic tables and benches to stop and read, have a lunch, play a game of chess, talk with friends, or just sit and enjoy the beautiful views.

Most of the time we were walking, we were at least a little aware of the traffic noise along McCormick.

But along a good part of the walk, you really feel like you're in a kind of hideaway, separated from the business of the city for a little while.

This sense was increased when we were somewhat startled to see a deer running along the line of trees (take a close look at the picture, or click to enlarge it - the deer is there!).

The deer past us, then stopped and hesitated for a bit, barely hidden in the shadows, flipping its tail as it watched bikers and runners pass by it, all oblivious of its presence.

Finally, he ran on again. We kept looking for him near the river as we walked, but saw no more sign of him, although we did see and hear some beautiful birds, including this red winged blackbird.

While we didn't get as far south as the Sculpture Park this time around, we did stop at the sculpture of Ghandi, who appears frozen in mid-stride atop a plinth inscribed with some of his quotations.

All in all, it was an afternoon well-spent. I don't know when we'll decide to go walking there again, but we have decided that next time, we'll park at the next lot south, and continue our walk from there.

feeling special

This morning on the radio (gotta love NPR, right?) they were talking about epilepsy and medication, and one physician they interviewed called himself an "epileptologist". Huh?? Wha??

Speaking as an epileptologee, I always consulted a neurologist, not realizing I had to specify that I wanted to see an epileptologist instead.

It was bad enough years ago when I had to tell people I worked for a suicidologist (really). Come on, do we really need to microsubsubteenyweenyspecialize so much that we only can do one thing?

Do I have to ask for time off for an appointment with my cuticologist, my hurtykneeologist - or heaven forbid - something really embarrassingly specialized that would be the adult equivalent of telling whether we had to number one or number two?

What about social situations? If I say I'm dating a penologist, does that have to do with male anatomy or criminal incarceration?? (Or a happy combination of both, eh?) Sheesh!

Ahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!

Just finished watching the first episode of the Vicar of Dibley wedding series. OH. MY. GOSH. I laughed out loud (although apparently not quite not loud enough to wake my son) when she did the Sense and Sensibility thing. Holy cow. LMAO, as they say!!
Okay - here's the scene in S&S where Emma Thompson has a cow when Hugh Grant tells her he's not married and really wants to marry her:


And now here's where they basically parody that in VoD:


Yep, a good laugh before bed!

Déjà vu all over again

Okay. So this is weird. I'm reading, and the story line says something about a precise time that day. And so I think, how do you know it's that exact time, and my mind keeps stream-of-consciousness-ing along, and I remember calling Time and Temperature when I was a kid.

(streaming, streaming) I squint my eyes and think, what was that number we used to call? Like all of Warren, PA, it had to be 723 something - no! It was that other prefix, 726! Yeah!

(streaming) I dig deep, really deep down in my unused brainwaves and come up with a version of myself, singsong chanting, 7-2-6-1-6-oh-oh! Yeah! The whatchacallit bank we could dial up and hear the voice saying, "the time is 7 o'clock, temperature, 58." Or whatever.

I google the number, 814-726-1600, and sure enough, it comes up with Time & Temp Ser-Warren, Pennsylvania (really they can spell out 'Pennsylvania', but have to abbreviate 'service'?) Way to go, brainwaves!

So what the heck. I call the number. Just like old times. Except for the very long advertisement about whatchacallit bank's services (ser's) first, of course. To make up for that you get not only time, not only temp, but a weather forecast for tomorrow. (High eighties) And can you believe it's like 72 degrees at 1:30 in the morning there!??

By the way, here's the bank building, also known as the Flatiron Building. I took a photography class there once the year after high school. Became friends with the teacher, and saw him at our 25th class reunion, where he was taking our group picture. He's a town councilman now, I think. (streaming, streaming)

Hummingbird don't fly away, fly away...

So a really cool thing happened just now. I got back to my room and opened some windows to let in the fresh air. Just as I threw open the second window, a hummingbird zoomed up to the other side of the screen, hovered for a second, then flew away again. It was like he was checking me out for that second.

There and gone again, just like that. Of course too quick for me to even think of pulling out my camera, but he looked like this guy, a ruby-throated hummingbird. Just long enough for the two of us to look at each other for a second. Little blessings for the day...

Welcome to the DARK side!

There's nothing that can make you feel okay about your addition as when a friend of yours shares that addiction!!

Yesterday I helped my friend Deb set up a deadly FACEBOOK account... she has nowhere near the obsessive personality that I do, but I can only cackle with glee, thinking of the hours and hours she will waste online. (avoiding writing her dissertation... muahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

I even helped take her picture, "handy" friend that I am. Here's her profile picture - recognize her?

(heeheehee)

New kid on the block

Chris and Trish are two dog walker friends who live down the block from me. I met them and Max, an adult husky, and their (then) new black lab Dave when I first moved in, and introduced them to my Emily. They sympathized and grieved with me when I lost Emily, then rejoiced when I got Lucy. Last fall, I sympathized and grieved with them when their beloved Max crossed Rainbow Bridge (it's a pet owner thing - don't ask).

A couple of days ago, Chris and Trish introduced me to the newest member of their family - Tank. What a cutie! He's an 11 week old Basset Hound, silkier than satin, and just darn funny. You simply can't keep a straight face when you look at him. They've told me that total strangers look at him and start giggling.

Here he is with big brother Dave and Trish's legs! I understand Dave and Tank (Tanky to his friends) begin wrestling at about 6:00 am daily.

Tank has this funny little waddley way of walking, plus his stretched-out shape that together are so endearing, it's hard not to love him at first sight. Everything he does looks cute. And Lucy actually was getting along with him. I can't wait to hear him bay, although his mommies say they're trying to discourage that by not letting him know how funny he is when he howls.

So here he is. The new kid on the block. Tank. (heeheehee)

A sign of blessing

Last week we were in Plymouth Covenant Church, outside Minneapolis, for an assessment center. Not for church planters - well, there actually was one for them going on in the other rooms - but ours was for revitalization pastors.

It was an exciting time, partly because of what this will mean for lots of our churches, but also because it marked the culmination of a dream that has been several years in the making. While our processes and tools still need plenty of work, the fact is that we held an assessment, put two candidates through the paces, and were able to come up with an end result. In November, we'll be ready to try it with five candidates.

Now lately there's been a lot of talk about what the ECC is going to look like in the year 2020. And for a number of years, we've been bringing out the charts that show how the ECC has grown since 1993, mainly due to church planting - that's when the big CP initiative started.

So I can't wait till 2020 to be able to say, "look where the ECC is, look at these charts, and see how we've grown and become stronger and healthier because of revitalization!" And we were there at the very beginning!

On Friday evening during break, someone happened to look outside and exclaimed, "Wow! Look at this rainbow!"

It was a complete arc, from one edge of the horizon to the other, and impossible for me to capture entirely in one photograph. We still had hours of work ahead of us, but everyone stayed outside for long minutes gaping at the beauty of this sign in the sky.

Now, I know that a rainbow occurs when there is the right amount of moisture in the atmosphere at the same time that the sun is shining.

But this seemed more than that. This seemed like a sign of blessing for us that in this whole business of revitalization, there would be rain, but it would be followed by the rainbow.

getting out of the city (II)

This Memorial Day I did something really fun - I took the Metra to Fox Lake and spent the day at my friend's home in unincorporated Spring Grove. Taking the train was fun. The conductor looked about 19 years old, and he so strongly resembled Harry Potter (is this the Hogwarts Express?) I had to keep myself from staring! Once I got settled, I kept trying to think of ways I could snap a picture of him without either a) looking like a total psycho stalker, or b) getting arrested, or c) getting thrown off the train. No worries - I never saw him again after I first boarded. (Was it all a dream?.......)

Wow. Gorgeous setting, lots of tall trees, large 1-5 acre lots, great yard and gardens, unpaved roads, wildlife nearby, property bordering on state park property. It's like a little taste of Heaven to go there. This is the house my friend's husband lived in before they got married and he moved to her condo in the city. I've wondered before why they didn't just sell the other house and live in one place. Now I wonder why they didn't just opt to live out there, it's so great!

We had a really nice time, laid back, just mostly chatting around a meal of steaks and corn cooked on the grill, then the first game of croquet I've played since I was about 12. Mosquitos notwithstanding, it was simply a perfect afternoon and evening.

On our way home, we drove through Chain of Lakes State Park, which was surprising to me in that it was mostly flat wetlands, instead of hilly forest, my usual experience of state parks.

We were all tired when we got home, but boy was it worth it. (I'm trying to see how I can use their country home as a weekend retreat sometime! Hah!)