About that flight, and my optimism that avoiding earphones might lead to an interesting conversation:
I did avoid earphones.
Everyone around me did not.
And I am not so interested in interesting conversation that I would mis-read that very clear signal.
Plugged-in=Checked-out
Fine, fellow travellers. Stick with music you've heard a thousand times already. Read the book that will be there later for you. But you've missed out on me.
This did free me up to put on earphones and watch DirecTV on the 3 hours flight. Watching TV fused to feel like a big treat, because we don't have it at home.
This time, though, it felt more like a series of snapshots of the culture. Jon Stewart of the Daily Show, for instance. I think I used to find him funny. This time, I couldn't help feeling, "Ouch. This guy is hurtful. And snide. And. . .and. . .hurtful."
Switched to HGTV and watched a series of shows--makeover types, HouseHunters--about Americans upgrading where they live. Made me wonder how the producers find people to be on these shows. If we wanted to turn our backyard into an "Outside Room," for instance, whom do we write to? And does the show pay for the makeover or do we have t? And if the show does, do we pay taxes on that improvement?
From the Regan airport, I found my way on the Metro to a pre-arranged coffee shop where Suzanne met me. That Metro journey included a line change, and I didn't make any mistakes getting from one point to the other. This is the kind of thing that makes me feel good about myself.
We walked from her place to the Iwo Jima memorial. Had no idea it was that huge. Huge.
She told me something about it that you may not know, but are about to be glad you do know:
As you know, it features 5 men. But there are 11 hands. That's right--an extra hand, the Hand of God.
Love it.
A monument like this makes me think of a moment--it is a moment captured, after all. And there is a lot of talk about "living for the moment," but in fact, the moments that are worth making statues out of are never just moments, they are always culminations of a lifetime of choices and preparaiton. Those Marines didn't become victorious warriors in a second. Theirs was "a long obedience in the same direction." (Eugene Peterson's words, not mine. Though he wrote them in reference to something else, kind of.)
We all have moments in the making right now, I think. I hope.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Hijinx Ensues
I got to the airport an hour before my flight this morning.
But the pilot scheduled to fly the plane did not show up for work. (The gate agent's words, not mine.) So the flight was cancelled.
This was to be a quick jaunt up to Denver, from which everyone sitting in the Colorado Springs was continuing on to somewhere else. This kind of thing. . .what's the right phrase for this?. . .this kind of thing activates personalities.
The middle-aged woman who is leading a mother and a few sisters turns into "I Will Manage This Situation!" Nothing she did helped her own cause. Not the interrupting of the agents at the desk to 'get answers.' Not the loud-enough-for-all-passengers-to-hear-but-still-in-a-controlled-voice-so-that-she--among all these other crazies--would-not-look-crazy, "These two agents are incompetent."
She and her companions ended up on the bus up to Denver.
I knew from the first I wouldn't be on that bus. Buses make me want to throw up.
Another family was very upset as well. On their way to some kind of reunion, and due to meet up with grandkids in Denver--I heard all about it. The father in this group was reasonable enough. He kept telling his son--maybe 19 years old, the lilt of a brat about him--that "It is not OK to get upset about this."
The son responded very calmly that he could, indeed, get upset. It was what he was experiencing in his reality and he had a right to it. I felt uncomfortably as though I were sitting in on the family's counseling session.
Eventually, this same son announced to his father as they sat in the terminal that if such and such didn't happen in time he would, "Rip somebody's f***ing head off." (His words, not mine.)
This ripping, though I did not mention this to the guy, is against Federal Regulations. Someone with latex gloves and ill-fitting trousers would be after him in no time.
The trousers of TSA employees! None of them fit anyone! They are either too tight, or too baggy in at least a few places. Check for yourself next time you are in an airport.
I did not have my new iPod with me. Didn't want it. Being plugged in is a sign to everyone else that you don't want to talk, whereas I like to be available to my fellow travellers. I got to chat with one man who's considering relocating to the Springs, for instance. Another whose family just opened an Italian Bistro in Pueblo where he is the head chef. And, no, he neither saw Ratatouille nor planned to.
His parents are from Palermo, however, and everything he makes is his mother's recipe. The Superheroes will plan to eat there this summer. Let's hope the restaurant stays open that long.
Clarity, though: I used to be more upset about this kind of thing. I paid good money! They owe me a plane ride now, not later! What is that pilot's name?! I will never fly on this airline again. . .
A while ago, though, I realized that if I were to stick by my various vows to avoid certain airlines, there would be no one left to fly. This is just what air travel is like. Stuff happens. Kind of often, it feels like.
I remember Sister #1, who flies a lot, telling me this a few years ago. I see her point now. What can you do? And, in my case, I did not even absolutely, positively, have to be in DC today. I am going to visit a dear friend, and it looks like I might get to see and extra two friends in the bargain. Whoopee!
But the trip can start tomorrow.
Because my other option was to spend an entire day in airports and arrive around midnight. Folks, I have a lot to do here at home that I was already dreading coming home to on Sunday night and then finishing up so I could leave Monday morning.
I re-booked for Friday morning, 6:00 AM, which will get me there in plenty of time to enjoy my friends. And voila! I therefore had a whole afternoon to get everything else in order for my road trip--and got to do so without Gemma and Joshua around. I'd say it's working out perfectly.
Final bonus: I can go to the National Day of Prayer gathering at our church this evening, which I had been bummed to miss out on. Now, Bryan and I can go together.
Tomorrow starts early, then. I'll have about 2 hours to use between my landing and Suzanne being off work. I'll navigate the Metro to her stop and we've planned a ren-des-vous at a certain coffee shop. She added that there's wifi there, if I had my laptop with me.
I first thought, "Hmm, I do have a lot of work I could do on the plane, and then at the shop as I wait for her." But then I thought, "No, being on a laptop tells the world that you do not want to talk. And, frankly, I want to hear what the guy who plans to rip someone's f***ing head off has to say. . ."
But the pilot scheduled to fly the plane did not show up for work. (The gate agent's words, not mine.) So the flight was cancelled.
This was to be a quick jaunt up to Denver, from which everyone sitting in the Colorado Springs was continuing on to somewhere else. This kind of thing. . .what's the right phrase for this?. . .this kind of thing activates personalities.
The middle-aged woman who is leading a mother and a few sisters turns into "I Will Manage This Situation!" Nothing she did helped her own cause. Not the interrupting of the agents at the desk to 'get answers.' Not the loud-enough-for-all-passengers-to-hear-but-still-in-a-controlled-voice-so-that-she--among all these other crazies--would-not-look-crazy, "These two agents are incompetent."
She and her companions ended up on the bus up to Denver.
I knew from the first I wouldn't be on that bus. Buses make me want to throw up.
Another family was very upset as well. On their way to some kind of reunion, and due to meet up with grandkids in Denver--I heard all about it. The father in this group was reasonable enough. He kept telling his son--maybe 19 years old, the lilt of a brat about him--that "It is not OK to get upset about this."
The son responded very calmly that he could, indeed, get upset. It was what he was experiencing in his reality and he had a right to it. I felt uncomfortably as though I were sitting in on the family's counseling session.
Eventually, this same son announced to his father as they sat in the terminal that if such and such didn't happen in time he would, "Rip somebody's f***ing head off." (His words, not mine.)
This ripping, though I did not mention this to the guy, is against Federal Regulations. Someone with latex gloves and ill-fitting trousers would be after him in no time.
The trousers of TSA employees! None of them fit anyone! They are either too tight, or too baggy in at least a few places. Check for yourself next time you are in an airport.
I did not have my new iPod with me. Didn't want it. Being plugged in is a sign to everyone else that you don't want to talk, whereas I like to be available to my fellow travellers. I got to chat with one man who's considering relocating to the Springs, for instance. Another whose family just opened an Italian Bistro in Pueblo where he is the head chef. And, no, he neither saw Ratatouille nor planned to.
His parents are from Palermo, however, and everything he makes is his mother's recipe. The Superheroes will plan to eat there this summer. Let's hope the restaurant stays open that long.
Clarity, though: I used to be more upset about this kind of thing. I paid good money! They owe me a plane ride now, not later! What is that pilot's name?! I will never fly on this airline again. . .
A while ago, though, I realized that if I were to stick by my various vows to avoid certain airlines, there would be no one left to fly. This is just what air travel is like. Stuff happens. Kind of often, it feels like.
I remember Sister #1, who flies a lot, telling me this a few years ago. I see her point now. What can you do? And, in my case, I did not even absolutely, positively, have to be in DC today. I am going to visit a dear friend, and it looks like I might get to see and extra two friends in the bargain. Whoopee!
But the trip can start tomorrow.
Because my other option was to spend an entire day in airports and arrive around midnight. Folks, I have a lot to do here at home that I was already dreading coming home to on Sunday night and then finishing up so I could leave Monday morning.
I re-booked for Friday morning, 6:00 AM, which will get me there in plenty of time to enjoy my friends. And voila! I therefore had a whole afternoon to get everything else in order for my road trip--and got to do so without Gemma and Joshua around. I'd say it's working out perfectly.
Final bonus: I can go to the National Day of Prayer gathering at our church this evening, which I had been bummed to miss out on. Now, Bryan and I can go together.
Tomorrow starts early, then. I'll have about 2 hours to use between my landing and Suzanne being off work. I'll navigate the Metro to her stop and we've planned a ren-des-vous at a certain coffee shop. She added that there's wifi there, if I had my laptop with me.
I first thought, "Hmm, I do have a lot of work I could do on the plane, and then at the shop as I wait for her." But then I thought, "No, being on a laptop tells the world that you do not want to talk. And, frankly, I want to hear what the guy who plans to rip someone's f***ing head off has to say. . ."
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
So Many Odds!
Easter last weekend: Bryan was driving in from MO, where he'd spent a day clearing out what was left in the barn we sold. The kids and I enjoyed the day at the Burches, cementing what was already the tradition--now 5 years running.
It was a snowy, cold day. Pretty typical for Colorado. The kids and I had been listening to the audiobook of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe and though I've read it before, this time, it struck me. Maybe because it led up to Easter?
In one portion, Mr. and Mrs. Beaver are trying to explain to the children what being in the presence of Aslan is like. "He is terrifying," Mr. Beaver said. "Terrifying, yes, but he is also good."
***
Our homeschool co-op wrapped up last week. They created a version of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. This had been months in the making, with the kids imagining great things for their production.
In execution, it involved children acting out the key scenes under Cecilia's direction (she's the 12 year old among them) whilst I recorded it with my DVD recorder.
After 3 1/2 hours of work, they had made 18 minutes of footage, which we then watched together. "All that work?! Only 18 minutes long?!"
I'd say they all learned something. . .
Gemma was Lucy, by the way. Joshua was Mr. Beaver.
***
If I know anyone on the planet who should have a GPS in the car as she's driving, it is the superhero, Amy Ponce! It is impressive how lost I have gotten, especially at times and in places where no reasonable person gets lost.
Look, I don't have a lot of common sense. It's too bad, sometimes. But I like to think that this lack has created an opportunity for creativity that has made for a rich life so far. With a GPS, I now feel like I have a lot less of the pain of being non-common-sensical, with all of the creative gain.
We now also have a hand-held GPS that we use to geocache. This was our Christmas present from the grandparents and we so enjoy the hobby. I have wanted to be a geocaching family ever since Gemma was about a year old. Now, both kids are big enough to hike on their own two legs.
***
One more gadget is new to me: An iPod. My first digital music device. Seriously.
I'm loading music from my cd's onto it as I compose this message. The pod itself is tiny. A "nano," which, when we won one in a raffle back in Korea in 2004, was shockingly slim: 4 inches high, almost as thin as a credit card.
The one I bought yesterday is, like, and inch and a half, just as thin, with a clip on it. I can wear it on my collar and its pedometer function will still take an accurate count of my steps.
It can hold up to 4000 songs.
Is anyone else dazzled by this technology?
I think there's even an "app" (we've shortened the word "application" because of this technology! who would have thought that the syllable, "app" would ever mean anything?) related to fitness tracking I could use.
But I don't think I will.
***
Speaking of shortening words, this has become Gemma's habit. It's weird. She started doing it with people's names.
We all do this with people we know and love, right? People we feel very close to and can take license with? I mean, it would be pretty normal if I started calling my husband, "Bry."
Gemma calls on of the cul-de-sac kids--one who is hardly ever home or outside playing, we see him maybe half a dozen times a year--has started calling this child, named Regan, "Rege."
Not just names, either. "Are we having tacs for dinner?"
"Tacs?"
"Tacos?" she clarifies.
***
Joshua was with me in a store the other day. We were there to get a shirt for me. He saw a toy and asked for it.
"Not today," I said. He persisted. "Joshua," I said, "I am not going to buy you a toy for no reason."
"But I want it! That is a reason!"
(No, I didn't get it.)
***
Let me tell you about the shirt.
Previous to July 2009, I was a v-neck t-shirt and skort kind of girl in the summertime. These v-necks were red, black, white or navy blue. This was a good look for me.
My physique is somewhat different now. This look doesn't really work. It would if I were to wear fake breasts, but I don't really want to. I found a new look instead: a tank top under a button-front, collared shirt with the buttons open.
This hangs nicely. Doesn't draw attention to my bony expanse of ribs.
Two problems, though:
1. It's hard to find women's button front shirts that are not too long for me and
2. It's hard to find women's shirts that do not have pronounced darts sewn into them. Darts that I do not, ahem, need and that hang funny when there is nothing darting into them.
Then, one day while in a dressing room, facing this problem yet again, I had a revelation: Now that I am built like a pre-pubescent boy, why not starting wearing their clothes?
The perfect length!
The fronts are sewn straight. (I do have to pin the backs to get that part to cut in. . .so, not a perfect solution)
And you'd be surprised at the colors they make for boys' clothing.
No, I don't plan on handing them down to Joshua.
I do feel like a genius for figuring this out.
***
AWANA graduation was this past weekend. Bryan and I were responsible for the Cubbies' graduation ceremony. But Bryan had the nightshift for an exercise for the better part of 2 weeks, so, really, I am the one who had to put it together.
This is totally OK. He did most of the work throughout most of the year.
The point is, I was keenly aware of how many hours go into something like this, and the whole time I was thinking, "Who even cares about Cubbie graduation?"
Then, at Cubbie graduation, I saw each little pre-schooler up close as he walked across the stage. And I'll tell you who cares about Cubbie graduation: Cubbies. They were so happy and proud and thrilled. It was so precious. What a blessing to be a part of that.
Joshua got an extra round of applause when he walked across. People know that when parents do ministry, their kids end up "doing" it, too.
We got the whole thing done in 30 minutes, by the way. Something of an AWANA record.
Then it was the Sparks' turn. Gemma won 'Clubber of the Year' for her age group. I don't mean for that to constitute bragging. But this is our family record, right? Now, if I were to point out that she won this award last year, too, that would be bragging.
As for Gemma, she seemed surprised by the award. Delighted. But humble, too. We're just glad both our kids like AWANA more than any other thing they do.
***
I leave for a trip to DC on Thursday morning. Return is on Sunday. I leave on Monday for a road trip with the kids.
I would love to blog from the road. I'm not sure if I will. I'll tell you what's odd: When we are busiest, as we've been this April, for instance, I want to sit down and write least of all.
Yet, these busy times are full of the stuff that wants writing down.
Maybe our trip will be boring and I will post lots of blogs.
Just in case, though, I'm taking my own deadline away. Not that's it's meant much lately. We'll be back in mid-June. I hope to check in before then!
It was a snowy, cold day. Pretty typical for Colorado. The kids and I had been listening to the audiobook of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe and though I've read it before, this time, it struck me. Maybe because it led up to Easter?
In one portion, Mr. and Mrs. Beaver are trying to explain to the children what being in the presence of Aslan is like. "He is terrifying," Mr. Beaver said. "Terrifying, yes, but he is also good."
***
Our homeschool co-op wrapped up last week. They created a version of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. This had been months in the making, with the kids imagining great things for their production.
In execution, it involved children acting out the key scenes under Cecilia's direction (she's the 12 year old among them) whilst I recorded it with my DVD recorder.
After 3 1/2 hours of work, they had made 18 minutes of footage, which we then watched together. "All that work?! Only 18 minutes long?!"
I'd say they all learned something. . .
Gemma was Lucy, by the way. Joshua was Mr. Beaver.
***
If I know anyone on the planet who should have a GPS in the car as she's driving, it is the superhero, Amy Ponce! It is impressive how lost I have gotten, especially at times and in places where no reasonable person gets lost.
Look, I don't have a lot of common sense. It's too bad, sometimes. But I like to think that this lack has created an opportunity for creativity that has made for a rich life so far. With a GPS, I now feel like I have a lot less of the pain of being non-common-sensical, with all of the creative gain.
We now also have a hand-held GPS that we use to geocache. This was our Christmas present from the grandparents and we so enjoy the hobby. I have wanted to be a geocaching family ever since Gemma was about a year old. Now, both kids are big enough to hike on their own two legs.
***
One more gadget is new to me: An iPod. My first digital music device. Seriously.
I'm loading music from my cd's onto it as I compose this message. The pod itself is tiny. A "nano," which, when we won one in a raffle back in Korea in 2004, was shockingly slim: 4 inches high, almost as thin as a credit card.
The one I bought yesterday is, like, and inch and a half, just as thin, with a clip on it. I can wear it on my collar and its pedometer function will still take an accurate count of my steps.
It can hold up to 4000 songs.
Is anyone else dazzled by this technology?
I think there's even an "app" (we've shortened the word "application" because of this technology! who would have thought that the syllable, "app" would ever mean anything?) related to fitness tracking I could use.
But I don't think I will.
***
Speaking of shortening words, this has become Gemma's habit. It's weird. She started doing it with people's names.
We all do this with people we know and love, right? People we feel very close to and can take license with? I mean, it would be pretty normal if I started calling my husband, "Bry."
Gemma calls on of the cul-de-sac kids--one who is hardly ever home or outside playing, we see him maybe half a dozen times a year--has started calling this child, named Regan, "Rege."
Not just names, either. "Are we having tacs for dinner?"
"Tacs?"
"Tacos?" she clarifies.
***
Joshua was with me in a store the other day. We were there to get a shirt for me. He saw a toy and asked for it.
"Not today," I said. He persisted. "Joshua," I said, "I am not going to buy you a toy for no reason."
"But I want it! That is a reason!"
(No, I didn't get it.)
***
Let me tell you about the shirt.
Previous to July 2009, I was a v-neck t-shirt and skort kind of girl in the summertime. These v-necks were red, black, white or navy blue. This was a good look for me.
My physique is somewhat different now. This look doesn't really work. It would if I were to wear fake breasts, but I don't really want to. I found a new look instead: a tank top under a button-front, collared shirt with the buttons open.
This hangs nicely. Doesn't draw attention to my bony expanse of ribs.
Two problems, though:
1. It's hard to find women's button front shirts that are not too long for me and
2. It's hard to find women's shirts that do not have pronounced darts sewn into them. Darts that I do not, ahem, need and that hang funny when there is nothing darting into them.
Then, one day while in a dressing room, facing this problem yet again, I had a revelation: Now that I am built like a pre-pubescent boy, why not starting wearing their clothes?
The perfect length!
The fronts are sewn straight. (I do have to pin the backs to get that part to cut in. . .so, not a perfect solution)
And you'd be surprised at the colors they make for boys' clothing.
No, I don't plan on handing them down to Joshua.
I do feel like a genius for figuring this out.
***
AWANA graduation was this past weekend. Bryan and I were responsible for the Cubbies' graduation ceremony. But Bryan had the nightshift for an exercise for the better part of 2 weeks, so, really, I am the one who had to put it together.
This is totally OK. He did most of the work throughout most of the year.
The point is, I was keenly aware of how many hours go into something like this, and the whole time I was thinking, "Who even cares about Cubbie graduation?"
Then, at Cubbie graduation, I saw each little pre-schooler up close as he walked across the stage. And I'll tell you who cares about Cubbie graduation: Cubbies. They were so happy and proud and thrilled. It was so precious. What a blessing to be a part of that.
Joshua got an extra round of applause when he walked across. People know that when parents do ministry, their kids end up "doing" it, too.
We got the whole thing done in 30 minutes, by the way. Something of an AWANA record.
Then it was the Sparks' turn. Gemma won 'Clubber of the Year' for her age group. I don't mean for that to constitute bragging. But this is our family record, right? Now, if I were to point out that she won this award last year, too, that would be bragging.
As for Gemma, she seemed surprised by the award. Delighted. But humble, too. We're just glad both our kids like AWANA more than any other thing they do.
***
I leave for a trip to DC on Thursday morning. Return is on Sunday. I leave on Monday for a road trip with the kids.
I would love to blog from the road. I'm not sure if I will. I'll tell you what's odd: When we are busiest, as we've been this April, for instance, I want to sit down and write least of all.
Yet, these busy times are full of the stuff that wants writing down.
Maybe our trip will be boring and I will post lots of blogs.
Just in case, though, I'm taking my own deadline away. Not that's it's meant much lately. We'll be back in mid-June. I hope to check in before then!
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