So my “baby” girl graduated from high school two weeks ago. Cue the nostalgic mood music. It was just yesterday that she let me do her hair, pick out her clothes, and buckle her into a car seat. Stop the music. Today she does her own hair, picks out her clothes, and (hopefully) buckles up before peeling out. How did this happen overnight? After all, I just graduated…25 years ago.
High school graduation is an important milestone, whether it feels like that or not. It means you are educated, whether it feels like that or not. It means you met standards, whether it feels like it or not. It means you worked hard, whether it feels like that or not. It means you are ready for adulthood, whether it feels like that or not.
Graduation prompts an interesting behavior I call grudge evaporation. Grudge evaporation happens when all of your classmates are your friends because you’ll probably never see some of them again. Gone as if by magic are those petty leftover grudges from grades gone by. She didn’t share? Oh well. He didn’t call? Too bad. He spit in your hair in the 6th grade? So what. She told her other best friend who told her cousin who told her other best friend who told her mom who told your mom? Who cares. Bygones are bygones. Say goodbye and move on.
High school can be an all-consuming never-ending cycle of friends, homework, and activities. Graduation puts a screeching halt to the old familiar routines and flings wide open the door to the future. Yes, Virginia, there is life after high school. A lot of it. For me, at least 25 years’ worth so far. Colleges, careers, vacations, lazy days, new houses, new friends, new spouses, kids, pets, cars – the list of life goes on and on. And the best part of post-grad life? Who you have been is not necessarily who you become.
So to my own graduate and by extension to recent graduates everywhere, enjoy becoming you. To us older and wiser graduates, let’s just keep on becoming ourselves – we’re not done yet!
A birthday is like a personal mugger that’s hiding right around the corner just for you. It waits patiently, approaches carefully and attacks gleefully! Quick as a wink you’re older.
When I was younger, I wanted to be older. Now that I’m older, I want to be younger. My friend and I were discussing this odd age-reversal birthday wishes phenomenon and she asked me if I’d do my teenage years over again. Heck yes, but only if I could take my middle-aged brain with me. Knowledge wrapped up in perspective is the best birthday gift of all.
What if I had my middle-aged brain with me in junior high? Oh man! In math, I would rock on those rotten story problems. If a train was traveling at 70 mph how long would it take to churn 9 quarts of cream into butter? In P.E., I would fearlessly give the stink-eye to the evil coach who had a fondness for tight short-shorts and tall socks. Hey buddy, can you rethink the wardrobe and lay off the butter? In Home Ec, I would confidently use a big knife and chiffonade faster than a culinary-trained swashbuckler. Sauté that in melted butter!
Fast forward back to high school – just imagine a middle-aged brain roaming the hallways with a middle-aged outlook. Prom is not life or death. Boyfriends are temporary. Friends are transitory. Gossip is bad. Studying is important. Mom is right. Be good. Drive carefully. Make plans. Have goals. Move away. Work hard. Save money. Spend frugally. Grow up.
So let my middle-aged birthday mugging commence! Bring on the cake and fire up the candles! Oh my, is that butter-cream frosting?
The Triple Axel, a dangerous jumping spinning daredevil ice-skating trick known to thrill audiences and judges alike. I can only imagine the skater’s relief when it goes well and I can imagine their pain when it doesn’t. I’m not a skater, but I do have experience with another version of the Triple Axel and pain. It’s actually the Traveling Triple Axel – 3 days, 3states, and 3,000 miles. My nerves were jumping, my head was spinning, and I have only just recovered enough to tell you about it.
Day 1, State 1, Mile 1: Friday, January 2: Oh, it started innocently enough. Daughter #1 needed to go back to college in southeastern Idaho after the Christmas break. Travel in January is dicey enough, but we hoped for the best both in road conditions and weather forecasts. So dark and early that morning, we piled into the little 4-wheel drive pickup and struck out. Not even half an hour later, as we drove through “Lake Linton” we wondered if it was too late to send her back by bus.
Four hours later, we wondered the same thing as we defied gravity and skated uphill into the Blue Mountains. Around semi trailers and past passenger cars, across icy patches and through windy canyons we made our way to the state line. Whew, what a relief it was to cross into Idaho and skate at 75 miles per hour instead of just 65. Twelve hours after take-off, we landed in Idaho Falls for the night.
Day #2, State 2, Mile 2 Many: Saturday, January 3: Truly a day of jump and spin. After she’s all settled into her apartment, Daughter #1 announced she had been unable to negotiate the safe return of some of her apparently essential stuff from the ex-fiance. We jumped into the truck for a break-neck 3-hour spin down into Utah. However, the landing was spoiled by the fact that suddenly no one in the other family was available to liberate her stuff until the following morning.
Day #3, The Grand Finale: Sunday, January 4: Before the sun or the temperature even thought to rise, we loaded the aforementioned essential stuff under the watchful eye of both the ex’s angry brother and his big hungry dog. It was truly an amazing jumping spinning packing performance.
Ice skaters know the impact of a dynamic finish – it makes or breaks the performance and the endorsements. A death-defying drive is the perfect end to a Traveling Triple Axel. A full-on blizzard, complete with ice and wind, greeted us half-way back through the mountains. Not once, in all the miles from there to home, did the weather let up.
Hindsight is always 20/20 and it is clear to see that a bus ticket is the only way to send a college kid back in January. Trust me; there are no endorsement deals or shiny medals for successfully jumping and spinning and landing the Traveling Triple Axel.
I've seen the lists: the best of 2008, the best and worst dressed, sexiest, most eligible bachelor, the most news worthy of 2008 and the predictions for 2009. Every media outlet and supermarket tabloid has a list. I didn't find my name on any of them. That's probably good news. I made my own lists, new year's resolutions and then a list of 2009 goals. So, I'm on lists now. Do they count if I don't show them to anyone?
I know how 2009 treats me is up to me… I have been an optimist all my life. I understand the power of positive thinking and I know The Secret. I have the talent, the health, the energy, the motivation and a great network of friends and business contacts. I don’t have any excuses.
To reach all my goals, I may need you to join my team. And in return, if I can help, invite me to be on your team. We can do more together and teamwork multiplies our potential, so, maybe it is how we define a “team” that counts.
Like you, I am on several teams and Team 1 is my family. Kids, grandkids and the whole extended family. And it is a winning team although there are a couple players on the trading block (email for details).
Outside the family, I am on multiple teams in multiple roles from team captain to quarterback to right tackle and bench warmer. And I’m proud of these teams and the goals we set out to achieve. Whether it is my business team or teaming with my customers, the Chamber or civic and nonprofit organizations, every team needs the same ingredients for success. Great people.
Much of the time, our time is the key contribution which makes a difference. We tend to be commitaholics, on too many teams and spread too thin which can lead to letting them all down in some way. To say “yes” effectively, sometimes we have to say “no”. Sometimes it is about priorities, not just the desire to be on every winning team.
This year, to each of my teams I promise to give my best, to be a great team player and to focus on the goal line. If you are on one of my teams, let’s pull together we can do more. I look forward to being on your team.
Team, forget the lists, it’s game time! Let’s have a great 2009.
Snow days, the stuff of wintry legend. I grew up in southeastern Idaho where snow days didn’t exist, mostly because no adult believed in them just like they didn’t believe in Excalibur or the Tooth Fairy. But through the childhood grapevine my friends and I had heard about snow days. Oh, how we fervently wished for snow days as we shivered together during icy-cold recesses…
Oregon is not Idaho in it's belief and practice of snow days. I loved having snow days last week. Even the office was closed, so it seemed like the perfect time to get some things done around the house. The to-do list was long, but the motivation was short. It felt like a waste of special time to do anything mundane, useful or constructive. So this is how I spent my snow days…
I stayed in my sweats – different sweats every day, though. I watched my favorite holiday movies, Lethal Weapon (only the first one) and Die Hard (one and two). Nothing sparks more holiday cheer than bullets, blood-shed, and bare-chested actors (Mel and Bruce are two of Santa’s best elves). I read a whole book from cover to cover. I fixed real home-made food for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I put up the crap-tacular but blindingly white Christmas tree with its red plastic sparkly ornaments. What didn’t I do? I didn’t answer the phone or pick up the clutter or open the bills. I didn’t care if the cats lounged on the countertops. I didn’t care if a little spoonful of cookie dough disappeared right out of the bowl. And you know what? I didn’t feel the least bit guilty.
Snow days – they really do exist, they really are as good as I wished they would be, and they really are the stuff of wintry legend. So let’s wish for a few more, ok?
What’s your favorite part of the holiday season? Fudge? Greeting cards? Scotch tape? Personally, I’m a sucker for Christmas lights. Whether the light strings are dangling from the eaves, draped across the shrubs, and/or twisted around the trees – the colors, variety and wattage are just amazing. A few little twinkly lights thrown in are a nice touch, too.
My love of Christmas lights began way, way back when I was a kid. The whole famn damily would pile into the old Dodge station wagon for a drive around town to look at the lights. The snow would diffuse the colors and lights across the lawn while the icicles added big bright dramatic highlights. Combined with treacherously slick roads and no seat belt laws, those were rides to remember!
Dad was a sucker for Christmas lights, too, even though they almost killed him…
Again way, way back, on one fine January clearance sale day, Dad found the best price EVER on Christmas lights. He bought every single box and stashed them away in anticipation of the best EVER neighborhood light display. Months later, he unwrapped all those lights only to discover they were not the string-to-string variety. After considering the extension cord complications, Dad decided to splice all the lights together into one big long giant string. He worked along methodically, carefully splicing one string to another, holding the bare wire ends in his mouth as he went. It was at one such critical molar-clenching moment that my youngest brother decided to plug in the lights.
Snap! Crackle! Pop! Not in the good cereal kind of way, either. Dad, knocked off his feet, flew across the living room and landed right next to the outlet. Somehow, he was able to unplug the lights and himself. “Dad,” said the electrically guilty brother in a voice of stunned awe, “can you do that again?”
So nine extension cords and two root canals later, it was really was the best EVER neighborhood light display.
During this Christmas season, enjoy all of your favorites be it fudge, greeting cards, scotch tape or lights. Drive carefully and plug in even more carefully!
Thompson's first snow day! He loves, loves, loves the snow and wants to play in it all day long. It was his best buddy Buster the Kitty's first experience with snow, too, but after a few minutes of frolicking and exploring, the cat realized it was wet, cold, and not nearly as nice as the crackling fire.
Thompson's first snow day! He loves, loves, loves the snow and wants to play in it all day long. It was his best buddy Buster the Kitty's first experience with snow, too, but after a few minutes of frolicking and exploring, the cat realized it was wet, cold, and not nearly as nice as the crackling fire.
Thompson's first snow day! He loves, loves, loves the snow and wants to play in it all day long. It was his best buddy Buster the Kitty's first experience with snow, too, but after a few minutes of frolicking and exploring, the cat realized it was wet, cold, and not nearly as nice as the crackling fire.
Thompson's first snow day! He loves, loves, loves the snow and wants to play in it all day long. It was his best buddy Buster the Kitty's first experience with snow, too, but after a few minutes of frolicking and exploring, the cat realized it was wet, cold, and not nearly as nice as the crackling fire.
Thompson's first snow day! He loves, loves, loves the snow and wants to play in it all day long. It was his best buddy Buster the Kitty's first experience with snow, too, but after a few minutes of frolicking and exploring, the cat realized it was wet, cold, and not nearly as nice as the crackling fire.
One of those rare planetary and paycheck alignments happened so my husband and I went out to lunch. We scored our favorite booth at our favorite Chinese restaurant and our favorite entrée just happened to be the lunch special. And then the fortune cookies, my favorite part.
As desserts go, fortune cookies are the best – a little bit of sweetness wrapped around a little bit of hope. I always pick the cookie pointing to me. It’s my destiny. What will my fortune be? Life-changing advice? An unexpected trip abroad? Fame and notoriety? My fortune is always good but once in a while it’s great! I save the great ones, counting on both immediate and future fortune-osity. Here are my all-time greatest and most favorite fortune cookie fortunes:
1) “You shall attain great wisdom with each passing year.” So to heck with the older and wiser idea. Just wiser, thank you.
2) “An admirer is concealing his affection for you.” Do you think my husband knows who this guy is? Please, somebody send me some flowers.
3) “You will never know hunger.” Oh, so that must be why I got this next fortune…
4) “You will get new clothes.” That had better include accessories, too.
Part of our family’s Christmas Eve tradition is to leave cookies and milk out for Santa. So I was wondering, do you think Santa would like a couple of fortune cookies this year instead of the usual holiday gingerbread? I’m sure that even the Big Elf himself would like some extra wisdom, more affection, and new clothes!
I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for a commercial break. No, not the kind where you book it to the fridge for a cold diet soda before your favorite show is back on. I’m talking about a political commercial break. This election season has prompted some of the most negative commercials and dirty dog politics I’ve ever seen on the small screen. Every vote, every decision, every trip, and every purchase has been called into question. Every thing from frozen peas to office furniture has been flung before the voters in the hope of victory on election night. Candidates and committees have been flinging it as us for months now and it’s almost over. Tomorrow I can stop ducking.
I never thought I’d say it, but all of these commercials have made me realize how much I’ve missed all the other awful commercials I used to see. Like the pipe people who advertise bladder control medicine. Or the do-it-yourself DNA kit “conveniently located right next to the pregnancy tests.” Or the low-budget used car salesman superhero who can get you “the car of your dreams regardless of your past credit history.” Or toilet cleaning tools called “wands.” Political advertising has made even these clunkers look like the best thing on T.V., ranking right up there with foreclosure infomercials.
It’s important to be an informed voter, but after all of these political commercials… I’m a stressed and irritated voter. I’m a cranky and cantankerous voter. I’m a voter who just can’t wait until the voting is over. I’m a voter who’s ready for a commercial break.
The first laptop
New Acer Aspire 5315. Comes with Laptop case.
Windows Vista® Home Basic
Intel® Celeron® Processor 550 (1MB L2 cache, 2.0GHz, 533MHz FSB)
1GB (1/0) DDR2 667 SDRAM
160GB hard drive
Integrated Super-Multi drive (DVD+R, DVD-R, DVD-RAM)
15.4" WXGA (1280 x 800) TFT display
Acer® CrystalBrite Technology
Intel® Graphics Media Accelerator X3100
802.11b/g WLAN, 10/100 LAN, V.92 modem, integrated webcam
Acer Software.
Acer Arcade
Acer Signal
Acer Video Conference.
$400.00 Firm.
------------------------------------------------ -----------------------------------
Second Laptop
Compaq Presario C700 Notebook PC.
Processor Intel Pentium Dual CPU 1.87 GHz
Memory (RAM) 2.00GB
Hard Drive 120 GB
Modem High speed 56K modem
Network interface Ethernet 10/100BT integrated network interface
Wireless technologies 802.11b/g WLAN
External I/O ports 3 USB 2.0, 1 VGA port, 1 RJ11 modem connector,
1 RJ45 ethernet connector, S-video TV out, 1 headphones-out, 1 mic-in
Display size 15.4” WXGA High Definition BrightView Widescreen
Display resolution 1280 x 800
Video adapter Intel® Graphics Media Accelerator X3100
Webcam with integrated microphone
Internal audio 3D Sound Blaster Pro compatible sound 16 bit integrated
Speakers and microphone Altec Lansing® speakers
Keyboard 101 key compatible keyboard
Pointing device Touch Pad with On/Off button and dedicated vertical Scroll Up/Down pad, volume control, mute button
Power supply type 65 W AC Power Adapter
1 year, pick-up and return, parts and labor, Just Register the laptop with HP to activate the warranty.
$450.00
Call 503-543-3259 day time please.
Thanks
Tom
After two weeks of couch-potato Olympic coverage, I can definitely say I’m not moving swifter, higher or stronger. But I am in awe of the athletes who can! It’s amazing what the human body can be trained and prepared to do.
I’ll be the first one to admit that I’m not much of an athlete and have never been good at sports. Kickball was the bane of my elementary existence. Dressing down was the misery of my high school life. I’ve tried Jazzercise and believe you me, jumping around in front of a mirror while wearing a leotard is not a jazzy thing. Treadmills are ok, but I don’t like that distinct hamster-on-a-wheel feeling and I have a terrible time sticking the dismount. Oh sure, the dog and I go for walks, but they are more of the sniff-and-stroll variety. So in the meantime, I’m trying to crochet my way to fitness. Aerobically, it leaves something to be desired, but the doilies are great!
Maybe I can petition the International Olympic Committee to add crochet as a sanctioned event. Just imagine the commentary: “Simple, elegant, neat and tidy. That’s the best triple crochet stitch I’ve seen in the competition so far. If she manages to stick the tie-off, she’ll be in contention for a medal…”
So to athletes, non-athletes, and crocheters everywhere, best of luck in your efforts to be citius, altius, and fortius!