I think it is difficult to put in to words how important family has been for me. I have always told people that I was born in a “it takes a village to raise a child” community...where everyone knows everyone and everyone has some responsibility for the life and times of everyone elses children. I love the town where my mom grew up...somewhere behind the junction behind routes 35 and 36...just blocks away from the ocean...down the block from this family, around the corner from that family, just minutes away from their new house, their old house, or the house that <insert old family name here> used to own...I do love being here.
Family this weekend though has been really difficult.
I cannot think about how to summarize the thoughts in my head succinctly...so bear with me while I lay some groundwork.
Many of you know...
I was born in New Jersey, moved to California, back to New Jersey, down to North Carolina, on to Miami, up to St. Louis...graduated from college in North Carolina, moved to Georgia, up to Washington, DC, on to North Carolina and now I have landed back on the West Coast of Florida. I have moved a lot. I learned a lot from all of my moves...the have made me the person I am today, I do not hide that. But moving that much...
...SUCKS...
I moved after first grade, middle of second grade, middle of fourth grade, after sixth grade, middle of ninth grade...not to mention all of the house moves in between. I went to lots of different schools. I constantly had to make new friends. I never found the “forever friends” in school that so many people look back on. This is one of the reasons I (sadly) am complacent about letting friends drift away...letting friendships change...because my entire life I was forced to allow that to happen...because I moved, and in the late 80s and early 90s...we did not have Facebook.
My parents however, grew up in very different circumstances.
My dad was born, raised and lived in Cleveland, Ohio--Lakewood to be exact. His family lived in the same house until well after my dad graduated from high school...and when they moved from Ohio, they lived in the home in Key Biscane, FL that had served as a vacation home for the family. It was not until my dad was near 50 that they decided to pack up and move everything to a foreign location (to him), to a home in Dallas, Texas...closer to my Uncle, their youngest son, Rob.
My mom was born, raised and lived in Oakhurst, New Jersey...the village to raise a child community. My grandmother still, to this day, lives in the same house my mom moved in to when she was in third grade. My aunt and mom shared the back bedroom I am now staying in. The restaurants, shops, stores, everything really remains the same as it was when she left home in 1973 for college. Yeah--the “big box” stores have come up around the mom and pop places...but they are still there. This community has an allegiance to the old time values and reputation of stores that have been standing for 50+ years.
I don’t have this place.
I don’t have a “home I grew up in” with a childhood bedroom that reminds all who enter of a time when books and crafts filled my days (not much has changed) or a childhood room renovated sometime in adolescence when angst and defiance ruled the roost. I have memories of my blue plaid bedroom in South Orange, and even more fond memories of painting my wall in Miami with peace signs, smiley faces and yin yangs. I ALSO my dad cursing me when we had to move out of that rental home and remove the black paint I had used as a background...it was not my fault, he HAD given me permission to paint...and we worked together--paint chips flying all over the room--to scrape that teen angst off the walls...I HATED MIAMI...and I was very verbal about that...I HATED that they uprooted me from my life in North Carolina...and at 13 I didn’t know how else to articulate everything I was thinking and feeling.
Now--I am 28 years old. I have a life of my own. I have a job and a personal budget. I don’t go “home” as often as I should...but I don’t really have a reason to either. I don’t really HAVE a home. I never have. I have frequently said “I grew up at camp--it was the only place in my life constant and consistent from 9-27 years old!” It is true.
What I don’t understand now is why it is such a burden to keep anything in the house that is sentimental to either my brother or myself. Are my parents trying to create a kid-free space...that is unreal...my mother doesn’t understand the meaning of “cut the cord” and she would still take care of us daily if we would let her (I think). So, what is the big deal...you are moving a whole house...your are moving to a 3 bedroom house...my yearbooks and few other trinkets are not going to make or break the move...put them in a closet in the new house for all I care...but I want to feel like I have a “home” to come to...if and when I ever want to come home...the likelihood of that happening is greater too if I feel like there is a piece of me there...even if I never lived there...
I’m just saying....
FOR NOW...
LM
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Friday, November 19, 2010
on getting back on track
I have to do it.
I want to do it.
I need to do it.
It is NOT as easy as it sounds. I have been sick for nearly 5 weeks. I did three rounds of antibiotics, different antibiotics. I have been on a prescription cough suppressant, inhaler, AND over the counter cough and cold medicines as well as your routine advil, tylenol and sudafed...welcome to the last 5 weeks of my life. If you remember any of it...please let me know...
So, for the past 5 weeks of my life I played a bit of kickball...and that is about it. I know, really active...
feel. like. junk.
I vowed this week to get back on track. Monday night, even though I got home at 8:15...I went on a bike ride...that was freaking scary. Why Tampa, WHY, must half of the lights on Bayshore be out, creating pitch-black darkness on half of the expanse!?! NOT OKAY...Tuesday morning I made it to the gym...by Tuesday night I was so sore and freaking fidgety I couldn’t sit still. Wednesday morning, I did an easy 20 minute bike ride. Thursday I was beyond figuring it out...sore, tired, and ready to be home...I postponed Thursday to Friday...
Here we are on Friday...I am still sore...my plan is to get to the gym after work...and then ride with Deb while she runs tomorrow...
AirHeads with kids Saturday night and a softball game Sunday...
We will see...
I am sore, I am tired, but I need to be on track...
I must be...
for now
LM
I want to do it.
I need to do it.
It is NOT as easy as it sounds. I have been sick for nearly 5 weeks. I did three rounds of antibiotics, different antibiotics. I have been on a prescription cough suppressant, inhaler, AND over the counter cough and cold medicines as well as your routine advil, tylenol and sudafed...welcome to the last 5 weeks of my life. If you remember any of it...please let me know...
So, for the past 5 weeks of my life I played a bit of kickball...and that is about it. I know, really active...
feel. like. junk.
I vowed this week to get back on track. Monday night, even though I got home at 8:15...I went on a bike ride...that was freaking scary. Why Tampa, WHY, must half of the lights on Bayshore be out, creating pitch-black darkness on half of the expanse!?! NOT OKAY...Tuesday morning I made it to the gym...by Tuesday night I was so sore and freaking fidgety I couldn’t sit still. Wednesday morning, I did an easy 20 minute bike ride. Thursday I was beyond figuring it out...sore, tired, and ready to be home...I postponed Thursday to Friday...
Here we are on Friday...I am still sore...my plan is to get to the gym after work...and then ride with Deb while she runs tomorrow...
AirHeads with kids Saturday night and a softball game Sunday...
We will see...
I am sore, I am tired, but I need to be on track...
I must be...
for now
LM
Thursday, November 11, 2010
on summer camp
We all have those people in our lives that come and go. There are connections with these people that will always be important, but I really do think that there are times and places when people enter your life for a purpose. I think ‘forever friends’ are something I want to believe in...but I am afraid that it is not something that I have (yet) experienced. There are some people I HOPE will always be part of my life...but really...that is just a side tangent to the reason I have decided to write today.
One of those people that played an important role in my life for years sent me a random email this morning. Now, I know that I could have worked harder to mend things...and I didn’t...but this email had no content and the subject line said “had to share...hope all is well” I was skeptical of the link included...honestly I thought it might be spam...but I clicked, risking virus and computer infiltration!
The link led me to a webpage titled “13 things your kid’s camp counselor won’t tell you” and it INFURIATED ME! There were some points that were spot-on...but most of this list was so contrary to the mutual camp experience we shared...as campers AND as staff members, I have become more and more irritated about it throughout the day...so, below...here are my thoughts on the 13 things. My comments are (I think) clearly noted...my comments are in blue!
13 Things Your Kid's Camp Counselor Won't Tell You
13 Things Your Kid’s Camp Counselor Won’t Tell You--IF YOU SEND THEM TO A SHODDY CAMP! (do your research parents!)
Sending the kids off to camp this summer? We granted anonymity to insiders from camps in Massachusetts, New York, Vermont, and Wisconsin so they'd share some of the secrets of their profession.
If you really want to find out the TRUTH about a summer camp experience, talk to someone that has grown up in the program...grew through camp and with camp and IS willing to share their name...well, I guess that is what I am doing now. I did not grow up at a camp in Massachusetts, New York, Vermont or Wisconsin...but I spent 18 summers at a camp in North Carolina...I hope that is acceptable...
Interviews by Adam Bluestein
From Reader's Digest
1. For the first week, the cries of the homesick are almost unbearable. After that: "Mom? Who's Mom?"
Here’s the truth...there are always one or two campers that are homesick. In the younger cabins it may even be one or two per bunk...but it is FAR from unbearable...and the reality of a camper that is homesick more than rest period and bedtime...when they stop to THINK about home...those campers are TRULY FEW AND FAR BETWEEN. When you are a summer camp counselor and you have a camper that cries a bit, there is something endearing and sweet when they wake you up in the middle of the night because they are scared, because they miss home, because they can’t sleep. When there is a good support system, there really isn’t anything that is unbearable. This one...truly debunked...NOT “the truth” about all summer camps.
2. Your kid is a lot less shy and a lot more competent than you think.
There might be some validity to this one. I recently found myself cleaning out a box of old notes and cards I had received at camp over the years. I found a letter from a parent whose daughter is now 18. I have been fortunate to stay in touch with this family for the past 10 years...as her daughter was in my cabin when she was 8. This was one of those kids that was a little weepy at camp the first week. She auditioned for the camp play, the Wizard of Oz. She was MAYOR of the muchkins...and she grew that summer. I could potentially argue that this is one isolated incident in one isolated cabin...but that group of girls grew together. The maturity of a group of 8 year olds is unbelievable when they are left to their own devices and given the guidance to move the right direction...but the opportunity to move at their own pace and make their own decisions. Bah, it is really incredible! I think the most exciting reality from my camp experience was the correspondence we had with parents during the summer away from home. The letters we send give insight into the growth the children are experiencing while away from home. Parents don’t always believe it while they are away...but as soon as they pick their children up, they see what we have been telling them. Summer camp helps children stand a little taller, walk a little straighter...and grow into even more dynamic individuals. So, while I agree with the assessment above that children are less shy and more competent than a parent might believe...I THINK, it is SUMMER CAMP that creates that strength...and brings out latent qualities children may not have tapped had they not spent a summer away from home!
3. Your son will shun clothing and may well go without showering for weeks. "It's like a frat you join when you're ten."
Now, I cannot fully speak about this as I have grown up at an all-girls summer camp...but, we do have a brother camp. There, 4 miles away by water and 7 miles away by land...I am fairly confident that my brothers, my best friends, and their little boy campers are in fact running around in little clothing, showering sparsely (well the campers, the counselors shower like 3 times a day to stay cool) and enjoying every single bare-footed moment on the river, in the swim late and at the Mess Hall.
At our girls camp, your children ARE wearing little clothing. They wear a bathing suit and shorts 85% of the time. Sometimes they wear shoes. When they are younger the shirts and shorts and yes, the shoes they choose in the morning often do not make it back to the cabin on their body (see 4 for more explanation) and they love it. What we do is make sure they are slathered in sunscreen. It is applied twice a day in the cabin, morning and afternoon...the activities keep stock to cover pinking shoulders and our international presence has reminded us to SLIP, SLAP, SLOP...slip into a shirt, slap on a hat and slop on some sunscreen...all to stay safe in the sun.
A number of years ago, the girls camp also underwent HUGE renovations in all of our cabins to make the shower more efficient in all of our cabins. Yes parents, our counselors make sure your children shower. When they are younger we also smell their breath to make sure they brushed their teeth...and we touch their hair to make sure it is not turning into a birds nest.
We care...and we want you to know we care. It is important to remember, it is also summer...and remember when you were little...you ran around the street barefooted as well! At camp, we just don’t have cars to worry about.
4. Don't bother with the labels--everything's going to get hopelessly mixed up anyway.
DISAGREE. Put a name label on every single thing your child brings to camp. Put it on their water bottle. Put it on their sunglasses (or the croakie attached to the sunglasses). Put it on their underwear, their towels, their shorts and if you can figure out a way to put it on their shoes so it will not rub off...put it on that.
These kids are living in cabins of 10-12 kids. I know that my favorite method of cleaning the cabin when the girls did not pick up their stuff was to have the TRASH MONSTER come in and sweep EVERYTHING into a trash bag and put it up high on the lockers where they couldn’t reach it. Example 1 of how important name labels are. You see, when we take that massive pile down and check to see what goes where and whose locker or laundry bag to sort things back into...that name is VITAL. ESPECIALLY when they are young.
Our camp also has a lost and found procedure where our camp center staff puts found clothes/shoes/water bottles with names on them in the cabin mail box to return to their owner. So, even if it was left across camp on an activity...it may take 2-3 days to make it back to cabin 17...but if it has a name on it, it will find your child. If you have two children at camp...Polly and Patricia say, and the item says P. Simon...and belongs to Polly...it may go back to Patricia...but it will get back to your house!
The best part about this for me is being 28 years old and occasionally pulling on a pair of shorts or a shirt or listening to a CD that has a bright and prominent LM, LLM or LMorgan on the tag...god bless! I love summer camp!
A FEW NAME AND LABEL HINTS--when you put a name in sharpie on plastic things...ie...water bottles, fans, brushes, bottles, etc...and a kid has sunscreen on their hands, the name smudges off. Invest in a great paint marker from a craft score. It will make the name stay while keeping your child sunscreened all summer! Additionally, the little iron on or sew in labels...NOT A GOOD INVESTMENT. They peel off. Especially when left in the sun or in the water...so then we find white little labels scattered all over the ground and clothing with no label attached. Here is the best strategy...first initial, last name. Just using initials will help in the cabin if things get lost INSIDE the living space...the chances of having duplicate initials in a cabin...slim...but when your child slips off their t-shirt and flops to go sailing...and leaves them at the pier...the SP you put in the tag may get that shirt back to Sarah Porter in cabin 3, Sasha Prince in cabin 22, Sam Potts in cabin 28, Sally Peters in cabin 43...and may never make it back to your precious Stephanie Phipps in cabin 9...get it?
5. As long as he or she is eventually found, we're not going to tell you about all the times we had to call a search-and-rescue for your child.
This might be the most disgusting phrasing for something that could happen to your child while they are out of your care. I know, this must be a parents biggest fear for sending their child away for the summer. Your child is your most precious gift and we need to treat every single child as if they were our own.
When you leave your child in a counselors care...you expect to know that your child is going to be safe and looked after at all times.
What is important to know as a parent is that we have incredible procedures in place to know where your child is...and if a moment arises when we do not know where they are...we quickly and efficiently find her.
When you are at a summer camp, surrounded by water and activities kids are bound to get excited and that is why we keep an eye on them the way we do!
We know where your children are...the idea that there is a mad-dash for search and rescue is an unfair image to present to ANY parent trusting counselors with the safety of their child! Sorry Readers Digest...this is disgusting!
6. Some of us are hung over every morning and rigidly enforce afternoon naptime not because the kids need the rest but because our heads hurt.
Maybe some camps have this problem. I am fortunate to have grown up at a camp with a zero tolerance policy for underage drinking. Our camp is in such a small town, when we leave camp...we scream camp all over us. Local restaurants, bars, shops and residents all know we are from ‘the camps.’ Even if our clothes don’t have a logo, our cars probably do...if not our sunglasses or our horrible tan lines!
Not only would a restaurant or bar call camp if someone underage was drinking...they would call if someone underage TRIED to order a drink. That right there, at our summer camp...is a bag packed for you and a one way ticket home.
We are really strict about our rest period too, but not because we are drunk...but because we are trying to keep them safe in the hot summer conditions. We wake up at 7:30 in the morning...clean the cabin...breakfast at 8, activities from 9:30-12:30, lunch at 1...and at 1:30 we cannot wait for rest period. You see, when it is 90-105 degrees in the sun...and the hottest time of the day is from 12-2...the most intelligent thing we can do to keep our kids safe is to GET THEM OUT OF THE SUN AT THE HOTTEST TIME OF THE DAY! That, is why Rest Period is so important! After rest period we head out at 2:30, activities until 5:30, dinner at 6, after supper hour from 7-8ish...and 8-9 or so in evening activities before devotions and bed as early as we can!
FAIL AGAIN Readers Digest...your kids DO need rest hour and it is to keep them healthy (and us healthy...) NOT because counselors were out late participating in illegal activities!
7. Even if it's not a coed camp, your teen is going to learn more about the opposite sex (accurate or not) than you want to know.
This is true...but it is not any more true then when they go to a sleepover! At an all-girls camp with a brother camp down the river, we get lots of little notes back and forth with the boys camp...but it is nice, so innocent, so old school, so traditional.
I love that we do skits about how to be nice to guys and that the guys are given guidance in how to ask a girl to dance, to complement her and to remember classic values.
Our girls cannot wear strapless dresses to dances. Their skirts have to be below their finger tip sand they have to bend to show appropriate top coverage and skirt coverage. It is just one more thing we do to keep your kids safe.
I know it is old-school...but I love it.
8. If they want to eat peanut butter and jelly for weeks in a row, there's really nothing we can do about it.
We can...and we do...Our meals are family style and we eat together every meal.
Kids try everything. They don’t have to eat it if they do not like it...but we ask them to try it.
IF and only if they try everything at the table and still won’t eat it, a counselor can get them a PB&J (IF there is nobody with a peanut allergy in the cabin)
9. We confiscate the "illegal" candy you send and eat it ourselves. For the kid's own good, of course.
Let me set the scene for you...it is somewhere between 85 and 100 degrees with 99% humidity! Cabins are wet places...they hang wet towels and wear bathing suits 90% of the time. Gone are the days of candy staying out in the cabin. Think about it, candy melts! So, some of my past campers would agree with this...that is when we had a ‘candy box’ in the cabin. It was a giant rubbermaid container where campers placed all of their candy sent by their parents...and once or twice a day the counselors would pull down that box and campers could go at it. We had a lot of sticky cubbies and lockers...and now...as much as I hated the idea of getting rid of the candy in packages...
we have finally succeeded...candy is no longer allowed into our cabins.
Find out the policy at the camp you are sending your child. If you follow the rules, and don’t send candy if it is not allowed. It will be removed and in our case...we donate it...we don’t break into camper candy stash...maybe some do...but we don’t...
10. Your kids will be plunged into icy water, submitted to exotic "tortures," and scared witless countless times--just because we think it's funny. ... Oh, and they'll love it.
This is where this article gets me...these counselors are lame. WHO WOULD EVER USE THIS LANGUAGE...knowing parents would read it and judge every summer camp based on these words.
“tortures” WHAT?!? We might live in a world that is overly critical of language...but I know, camps that are aware of where the world is...is very careful about what we do. We used to have “initiation” for our oldest campers...and now, we call it “induction” and it is a simple thing that makes our kids more safe.
We have lots of traditions, lots of things your kids will talk about that you might never understand...but they are far from “tortures” and yes, they will love it!
11. According to the American Camp Association, the typical camper return rate is about 60 percent, and 92 percent of campers surveyed say the people at camp "helped me feel good about myself."
AGREED...I didn’t just grow up at camp, I grew at camp...I kept going back year after year so I could help my campers succeed the way my counselors helped me reach the goals I had set for myself as a camper. This article may have a few merits...but it sure did take a LONG TIME TO GET HERE...
12. For weeks after coming home, your child is going to speak in incomprehensible camp slang and pine for people named Lunchmeat, Fuzzy, and Ratboy.
Okay, I agree with this one too. The entire drive home, the weeks to come, really, the entire year until returning to camp again inside jokes and stories that require MUCH more detail and backstory than worthwhile will flow out of their mouth. The stories will be about people and skits, songs and dances, cabin nights and more...I suggest taking the time to invest one afternoon in getting ALL of the lingo down...so every night, when they want to share a new story...you don’t have to get the 4-1-1 on every detail...it will make the story flow much more smoothly...consider learning these terms...they are pretty universal to most camps...
THE BLOB
CABIN/BUNK (mate)
learn the names of buildings on the campground
what are the activities your kids do daily/weekly...what are they called?
Cabin Night
Camp Night
Activity (including activities, rotations, ranks, books, etc.)
popular skits
EXAMPLE: my summer camp does skits every day for the evening program that night. At dinner we hear about “night life” and a skit follows. If you know WAY ahead of a story that night life is the skit to tell kids whey they are going to do after supper...every story about “the night life skit” gets much quicker.
You, as parents need to listen to the stories the kids want to tell...but also know, it is okay to not know what they are talking about. Just smile and nod if you have to...ask questions to clarify if you have to. Your camper (child) has hundreds of memories and stories to tell...let them share...when they will...but also, let them sleep for the requisite 48 hours or so once they get home.
13. We actually do this because we love your kids--and we'll probably do it again next year. (According to the ACA, the average return rate for staff is 40 to 60 percent.) Camp is worlds more fun as a counselor than it is as a camper.
Number 13 was really the saving grace of this article. It is true, most summer camp counselors are there because camp means the world to them too. It is not only your children that learn from camp...counselors learn from camp too. They learn from your kids. We cannot that YOU enough for sharing them with us. There are hard days and tough days and GREAT days...Either way, we would not do what we did for the summer if your kids were not so great!
Thanks for sharing them, but also know that this list posted by Readers Digest, a supposed “reputable” magazine is such an unfair representation of “camp” and what summer camp really CAN be for your kids...
Sorry for being a bit soapbox-y
for now
LM
One of those people that played an important role in my life for years sent me a random email this morning. Now, I know that I could have worked harder to mend things...and I didn’t...but this email had no content and the subject line said “had to share...hope all is well” I was skeptical of the link included...honestly I thought it might be spam...but I clicked, risking virus and computer infiltration!
The link led me to a webpage titled “13 things your kid’s camp counselor won’t tell you” and it INFURIATED ME! There were some points that were spot-on...but most of this list was so contrary to the mutual camp experience we shared...as campers AND as staff members, I have become more and more irritated about it throughout the day...so, below...here are my thoughts on the 13 things. My comments are (I think) clearly noted...my comments are in blue!
13 Things Your Kid's Camp Counselor Won't Tell You
13 Things Your Kid’s Camp Counselor Won’t Tell You--IF YOU SEND THEM TO A SHODDY CAMP! (do your research parents!)
Sending the kids off to camp this summer? We granted anonymity to insiders from camps in Massachusetts, New York, Vermont, and Wisconsin so they'd share some of the secrets of their profession.
If you really want to find out the TRUTH about a summer camp experience, talk to someone that has grown up in the program...grew through camp and with camp and IS willing to share their name...well, I guess that is what I am doing now. I did not grow up at a camp in Massachusetts, New York, Vermont or Wisconsin...but I spent 18 summers at a camp in North Carolina...I hope that is acceptable...
Interviews by Adam Bluestein
From Reader's Digest
1. For the first week, the cries of the homesick are almost unbearable. After that: "Mom? Who's Mom?"
Here’s the truth...there are always one or two campers that are homesick. In the younger cabins it may even be one or two per bunk...but it is FAR from unbearable...and the reality of a camper that is homesick more than rest period and bedtime...when they stop to THINK about home...those campers are TRULY FEW AND FAR BETWEEN. When you are a summer camp counselor and you have a camper that cries a bit, there is something endearing and sweet when they wake you up in the middle of the night because they are scared, because they miss home, because they can’t sleep. When there is a good support system, there really isn’t anything that is unbearable. This one...truly debunked...NOT “the truth” about all summer camps.
2. Your kid is a lot less shy and a lot more competent than you think.
There might be some validity to this one. I recently found myself cleaning out a box of old notes and cards I had received at camp over the years. I found a letter from a parent whose daughter is now 18. I have been fortunate to stay in touch with this family for the past 10 years...as her daughter was in my cabin when she was 8. This was one of those kids that was a little weepy at camp the first week. She auditioned for the camp play, the Wizard of Oz. She was MAYOR of the muchkins...and she grew that summer. I could potentially argue that this is one isolated incident in one isolated cabin...but that group of girls grew together. The maturity of a group of 8 year olds is unbelievable when they are left to their own devices and given the guidance to move the right direction...but the opportunity to move at their own pace and make their own decisions. Bah, it is really incredible! I think the most exciting reality from my camp experience was the correspondence we had with parents during the summer away from home. The letters we send give insight into the growth the children are experiencing while away from home. Parents don’t always believe it while they are away...but as soon as they pick their children up, they see what we have been telling them. Summer camp helps children stand a little taller, walk a little straighter...and grow into even more dynamic individuals. So, while I agree with the assessment above that children are less shy and more competent than a parent might believe...I THINK, it is SUMMER CAMP that creates that strength...and brings out latent qualities children may not have tapped had they not spent a summer away from home!
3. Your son will shun clothing and may well go without showering for weeks. "It's like a frat you join when you're ten."
Now, I cannot fully speak about this as I have grown up at an all-girls summer camp...but, we do have a brother camp. There, 4 miles away by water and 7 miles away by land...I am fairly confident that my brothers, my best friends, and their little boy campers are in fact running around in little clothing, showering sparsely (well the campers, the counselors shower like 3 times a day to stay cool) and enjoying every single bare-footed moment on the river, in the swim late and at the Mess Hall.
At our girls camp, your children ARE wearing little clothing. They wear a bathing suit and shorts 85% of the time. Sometimes they wear shoes. When they are younger the shirts and shorts and yes, the shoes they choose in the morning often do not make it back to the cabin on their body (see 4 for more explanation) and they love it. What we do is make sure they are slathered in sunscreen. It is applied twice a day in the cabin, morning and afternoon...the activities keep stock to cover pinking shoulders and our international presence has reminded us to SLIP, SLAP, SLOP...slip into a shirt, slap on a hat and slop on some sunscreen...all to stay safe in the sun.
A number of years ago, the girls camp also underwent HUGE renovations in all of our cabins to make the shower more efficient in all of our cabins. Yes parents, our counselors make sure your children shower. When they are younger we also smell their breath to make sure they brushed their teeth...and we touch their hair to make sure it is not turning into a birds nest.
We care...and we want you to know we care. It is important to remember, it is also summer...and remember when you were little...you ran around the street barefooted as well! At camp, we just don’t have cars to worry about.
4. Don't bother with the labels--everything's going to get hopelessly mixed up anyway.
DISAGREE. Put a name label on every single thing your child brings to camp. Put it on their water bottle. Put it on their sunglasses (or the croakie attached to the sunglasses). Put it on their underwear, their towels, their shorts and if you can figure out a way to put it on their shoes so it will not rub off...put it on that.
These kids are living in cabins of 10-12 kids. I know that my favorite method of cleaning the cabin when the girls did not pick up their stuff was to have the TRASH MONSTER come in and sweep EVERYTHING into a trash bag and put it up high on the lockers where they couldn’t reach it. Example 1 of how important name labels are. You see, when we take that massive pile down and check to see what goes where and whose locker or laundry bag to sort things back into...that name is VITAL. ESPECIALLY when they are young.
Our camp also has a lost and found procedure where our camp center staff puts found clothes/shoes/water bottles with names on them in the cabin mail box to return to their owner. So, even if it was left across camp on an activity...it may take 2-3 days to make it back to cabin 17...but if it has a name on it, it will find your child. If you have two children at camp...Polly and Patricia say, and the item says P. Simon...and belongs to Polly...it may go back to Patricia...but it will get back to your house!
The best part about this for me is being 28 years old and occasionally pulling on a pair of shorts or a shirt or listening to a CD that has a bright and prominent LM, LLM or LMorgan on the tag...god bless! I love summer camp!
A FEW NAME AND LABEL HINTS--when you put a name in sharpie on plastic things...ie...water bottles, fans, brushes, bottles, etc...and a kid has sunscreen on their hands, the name smudges off. Invest in a great paint marker from a craft score. It will make the name stay while keeping your child sunscreened all summer! Additionally, the little iron on or sew in labels...NOT A GOOD INVESTMENT. They peel off. Especially when left in the sun or in the water...so then we find white little labels scattered all over the ground and clothing with no label attached. Here is the best strategy...first initial, last name. Just using initials will help in the cabin if things get lost INSIDE the living space...the chances of having duplicate initials in a cabin...slim...but when your child slips off their t-shirt and flops to go sailing...and leaves them at the pier...the SP you put in the tag may get that shirt back to Sarah Porter in cabin 3, Sasha Prince in cabin 22, Sam Potts in cabin 28, Sally Peters in cabin 43...and may never make it back to your precious Stephanie Phipps in cabin 9...get it?
5. As long as he or she is eventually found, we're not going to tell you about all the times we had to call a search-and-rescue for your child.
This might be the most disgusting phrasing for something that could happen to your child while they are out of your care. I know, this must be a parents biggest fear for sending their child away for the summer. Your child is your most precious gift and we need to treat every single child as if they were our own.
When you leave your child in a counselors care...you expect to know that your child is going to be safe and looked after at all times.
What is important to know as a parent is that we have incredible procedures in place to know where your child is...and if a moment arises when we do not know where they are...we quickly and efficiently find her.
When you are at a summer camp, surrounded by water and activities kids are bound to get excited and that is why we keep an eye on them the way we do!
We know where your children are...the idea that there is a mad-dash for search and rescue is an unfair image to present to ANY parent trusting counselors with the safety of their child! Sorry Readers Digest...this is disgusting!
6. Some of us are hung over every morning and rigidly enforce afternoon naptime not because the kids need the rest but because our heads hurt.
Maybe some camps have this problem. I am fortunate to have grown up at a camp with a zero tolerance policy for underage drinking. Our camp is in such a small town, when we leave camp...we scream camp all over us. Local restaurants, bars, shops and residents all know we are from ‘the camps.’ Even if our clothes don’t have a logo, our cars probably do...if not our sunglasses or our horrible tan lines!
Not only would a restaurant or bar call camp if someone underage was drinking...they would call if someone underage TRIED to order a drink. That right there, at our summer camp...is a bag packed for you and a one way ticket home.
We are really strict about our rest period too, but not because we are drunk...but because we are trying to keep them safe in the hot summer conditions. We wake up at 7:30 in the morning...clean the cabin...breakfast at 8, activities from 9:30-12:30, lunch at 1...and at 1:30 we cannot wait for rest period. You see, when it is 90-105 degrees in the sun...and the hottest time of the day is from 12-2...the most intelligent thing we can do to keep our kids safe is to GET THEM OUT OF THE SUN AT THE HOTTEST TIME OF THE DAY! That, is why Rest Period is so important! After rest period we head out at 2:30, activities until 5:30, dinner at 6, after supper hour from 7-8ish...and 8-9 or so in evening activities before devotions and bed as early as we can!
FAIL AGAIN Readers Digest...your kids DO need rest hour and it is to keep them healthy (and us healthy...) NOT because counselors were out late participating in illegal activities!
7. Even if it's not a coed camp, your teen is going to learn more about the opposite sex (accurate or not) than you want to know.
This is true...but it is not any more true then when they go to a sleepover! At an all-girls camp with a brother camp down the river, we get lots of little notes back and forth with the boys camp...but it is nice, so innocent, so old school, so traditional.
I love that we do skits about how to be nice to guys and that the guys are given guidance in how to ask a girl to dance, to complement her and to remember classic values.
Our girls cannot wear strapless dresses to dances. Their skirts have to be below their finger tip sand they have to bend to show appropriate top coverage and skirt coverage. It is just one more thing we do to keep your kids safe.
I know it is old-school...but I love it.
8. If they want to eat peanut butter and jelly for weeks in a row, there's really nothing we can do about it.
We can...and we do...Our meals are family style and we eat together every meal.
Kids try everything. They don’t have to eat it if they do not like it...but we ask them to try it.
IF and only if they try everything at the table and still won’t eat it, a counselor can get them a PB&J (IF there is nobody with a peanut allergy in the cabin)
9. We confiscate the "illegal" candy you send and eat it ourselves. For the kid's own good, of course.
Let me set the scene for you...it is somewhere between 85 and 100 degrees with 99% humidity! Cabins are wet places...they hang wet towels and wear bathing suits 90% of the time. Gone are the days of candy staying out in the cabin. Think about it, candy melts! So, some of my past campers would agree with this...that is when we had a ‘candy box’ in the cabin. It was a giant rubbermaid container where campers placed all of their candy sent by their parents...and once or twice a day the counselors would pull down that box and campers could go at it. We had a lot of sticky cubbies and lockers...and now...as much as I hated the idea of getting rid of the candy in packages...
we have finally succeeded...candy is no longer allowed into our cabins.
Find out the policy at the camp you are sending your child. If you follow the rules, and don’t send candy if it is not allowed. It will be removed and in our case...we donate it...we don’t break into camper candy stash...maybe some do...but we don’t...
10. Your kids will be plunged into icy water, submitted to exotic "tortures," and scared witless countless times--just because we think it's funny. ... Oh, and they'll love it.
This is where this article gets me...these counselors are lame. WHO WOULD EVER USE THIS LANGUAGE...knowing parents would read it and judge every summer camp based on these words.
“tortures” WHAT?!? We might live in a world that is overly critical of language...but I know, camps that are aware of where the world is...is very careful about what we do. We used to have “initiation” for our oldest campers...and now, we call it “induction” and it is a simple thing that makes our kids more safe.
We have lots of traditions, lots of things your kids will talk about that you might never understand...but they are far from “tortures” and yes, they will love it!
11. According to the American Camp Association, the typical camper return rate is about 60 percent, and 92 percent of campers surveyed say the people at camp "helped me feel good about myself."
AGREED...I didn’t just grow up at camp, I grew at camp...I kept going back year after year so I could help my campers succeed the way my counselors helped me reach the goals I had set for myself as a camper. This article may have a few merits...but it sure did take a LONG TIME TO GET HERE...
12. For weeks after coming home, your child is going to speak in incomprehensible camp slang and pine for people named Lunchmeat, Fuzzy, and Ratboy.
Okay, I agree with this one too. The entire drive home, the weeks to come, really, the entire year until returning to camp again inside jokes and stories that require MUCH more detail and backstory than worthwhile will flow out of their mouth. The stories will be about people and skits, songs and dances, cabin nights and more...I suggest taking the time to invest one afternoon in getting ALL of the lingo down...so every night, when they want to share a new story...you don’t have to get the 4-1-1 on every detail...it will make the story flow much more smoothly...consider learning these terms...they are pretty universal to most camps...
THE BLOB
CABIN/BUNK (mate)
learn the names of buildings on the campground
what are the activities your kids do daily/weekly...what are they called?
Cabin Night
Camp Night
Activity (including activities, rotations, ranks, books, etc.)
popular skits
EXAMPLE: my summer camp does skits every day for the evening program that night. At dinner we hear about “night life” and a skit follows. If you know WAY ahead of a story that night life is the skit to tell kids whey they are going to do after supper...every story about “the night life skit” gets much quicker.
You, as parents need to listen to the stories the kids want to tell...but also know, it is okay to not know what they are talking about. Just smile and nod if you have to...ask questions to clarify if you have to. Your camper (child) has hundreds of memories and stories to tell...let them share...when they will...but also, let them sleep for the requisite 48 hours or so once they get home.
13. We actually do this because we love your kids--and we'll probably do it again next year. (According to the ACA, the average return rate for staff is 40 to 60 percent.) Camp is worlds more fun as a counselor than it is as a camper.
Number 13 was really the saving grace of this article. It is true, most summer camp counselors are there because camp means the world to them too. It is not only your children that learn from camp...counselors learn from camp too. They learn from your kids. We cannot that YOU enough for sharing them with us. There are hard days and tough days and GREAT days...Either way, we would not do what we did for the summer if your kids were not so great!
Thanks for sharing them, but also know that this list posted by Readers Digest, a supposed “reputable” magazine is such an unfair representation of “camp” and what summer camp really CAN be for your kids...
Sorry for being a bit soapbox-y
for now
LM
Monday, November 8, 2010
on the postal service
Remember when I used to complain about data entry?
Yeah, I do too...Now, don’t go getting all crazy on me. Don’t think I miss it or I am dying to do it or wish I had MORE of it to do--because I DO still have some data entry...but there are some pieces of receiving all of those pieces of mail every day--things I do TRULY miss.
I think the thing I miss the most is the reality that every day I had tens of pieces of mail arrive with my name on it. It really did not matter if it was applications for regional events or payment for NFTY dues for teens from Delaware or Norfolk or Raleigh. It meant that every day I was getting mail, that wasn’t bills, that did not require deduction from my bank account, that noted I would be able see incredible teens.
Above all though, the best part of the mail was looking at the way hundreds of different people addressed their envelopes and the stamps they chose to use.
funny misspellings
Now, my name has been misspelled as long as I have known how to spell my name, well...longer. When I meet another Lindse/ay I ask first if she is an “ay” or an “ey” and that is always followed by the smile and the nod of understanding that Lindsey, Lindsay, Lyndsey, Lyndsay, Linzee, Lindse, Lindsie, etc etc etc...is one of the most commonly misspelled names, OF. ALL. TIMES.
What is better than my name being misspelled on every third envelope addressed to me, the spelling was on the paperwork being mailed!
NEXT...my office was on Massachusetts Avenue in DC. Confession-I learned how to spell Massachusetts in 7th grade for the states and capitals test...then I promptly forgot how to spell it because when I was hired in 2005 and I had to mail something to my new boss before I started working, I had to look up the spelling. Now--on these hundreds of pieces of mail I received It became evident that I was not the only college graduate that did not know how to spell Massachusetts. What’s better, the number of adult who seemingly admit defeat by addressing the envelope simply with Mass Ave. I would say 50% took the shortcut...and I would put money on it...it people were to HONESTLY answer...at least 25% of those people would not know how to spell Massachusetts...and 75% were too busy to bother they made sure it was spelled correctly.
Perhaps this is editorializing--but I am pretty sure I am right on when I say spelling is NOT (the collective, royal) “our” forte...
postmarks
They are really cool. I don’t know why I am fascinated with where people mail things from, how long it takes to get from point A to point B and the like, but I think postmarks are really cool. I loved receiving letters that had an atypical postmark. Sometimes it was causal, and a reminder to us all to think about this awareness month or that...I like seeing who mails things from work and who mails things from home, how long things take in town vs. out of state. I guess I am a nerd...I know.
It also made me smile when stamps had to be hand-stamped...I also loved when the mail carrier would notice stamps that snuck through and they would mark them off with a sharpie...the best though, the rare chance when all of the above would be missed and then I would get free stamps off the envelopes...you gotta be frugal when living in DC sometimes...
I also think it is humorous to see who blatantly disregards deadlines. When a piece of paperwork has to be postmarked by a certain date and it is clearly marked a week after that...like...do you really think when I, the person in charge of registration sets a deadline...I am not going to check and see if the deadline is met?!?
awesome stamps
Clearly though, the best part EVER about getting so much mail was looking at all of the stamps that came in to our office. Now, let me remind you...I worked for a Jewish organization and the events I hosted were for Jewish teenagers...yet, as soon as November came around, you better believe it, the Christmas stamps came rolling in...FUN!
It was fun to watch as new stamps came in...
Star Wars
Breast Cancer Awareness
Flowers
Americana
Birds
Disney
Vintage
It was even more fun to see when new stamps would come out, which ones would last longer and which would never hit the mail.
At some point I thought it would be cool to start collecting some of these stamps. I didn’t cut them all out, but when something across my desk that I had not seen or that were different I would clip them and slip them into an envelope under my keyboard.
I had totally forgotten about them until my car flooded last week...(okay, I left the sunroof open and it rained...) I had slipped that envelope into a compartment in my car and forgotten it was there. When I pulled everything out to see what got soaked, I decided to lay out the stamps so they would dry nicely...and now I am just trying to figure out what to do with all of these cool stamps.
If you have any cool craft ideas...let me know!
Whether or not the mail is actually for me, there was enjoyment in receiving it. I certainly miss the pseudo-love felt upon opening 15+ letters every single day!
for now though, maybe I will write a real letter so I can get one in return...
LM
Yeah, I do too...Now, don’t go getting all crazy on me. Don’t think I miss it or I am dying to do it or wish I had MORE of it to do--because I DO still have some data entry...but there are some pieces of receiving all of those pieces of mail every day--things I do TRULY miss.
I think the thing I miss the most is the reality that every day I had tens of pieces of mail arrive with my name on it. It really did not matter if it was applications for regional events or payment for NFTY dues for teens from Delaware or Norfolk or Raleigh. It meant that every day I was getting mail, that wasn’t bills, that did not require deduction from my bank account, that noted I would be able see incredible teens.
Above all though, the best part of the mail was looking at the way hundreds of different people addressed their envelopes and the stamps they chose to use.
funny misspellings
Now, my name has been misspelled as long as I have known how to spell my name, well...longer. When I meet another Lindse/ay I ask first if she is an “ay” or an “ey” and that is always followed by the smile and the nod of understanding that Lindsey, Lindsay, Lyndsey, Lyndsay, Linzee, Lindse, Lindsie, etc etc etc...is one of the most commonly misspelled names, OF. ALL. TIMES.
What is better than my name being misspelled on every third envelope addressed to me, the spelling was on the paperwork being mailed!
NEXT...my office was on Massachusetts Avenue in DC. Confession-I learned how to spell Massachusetts in 7th grade for the states and capitals test...then I promptly forgot how to spell it because when I was hired in 2005 and I had to mail something to my new boss before I started working, I had to look up the spelling. Now--on these hundreds of pieces of mail I received It became evident that I was not the only college graduate that did not know how to spell Massachusetts. What’s better, the number of adult who seemingly admit defeat by addressing the envelope simply with Mass Ave. I would say 50% took the shortcut...and I would put money on it...it people were to HONESTLY answer...at least 25% of those people would not know how to spell Massachusetts...and 75% were too busy to bother they made sure it was spelled correctly.
Perhaps this is editorializing--but I am pretty sure I am right on when I say spelling is NOT (the collective, royal) “our” forte...
postmarks
They are really cool. I don’t know why I am fascinated with where people mail things from, how long it takes to get from point A to point B and the like, but I think postmarks are really cool. I loved receiving letters that had an atypical postmark. Sometimes it was causal, and a reminder to us all to think about this awareness month or that...I like seeing who mails things from work and who mails things from home, how long things take in town vs. out of state. I guess I am a nerd...I know.
It also made me smile when stamps had to be hand-stamped...I also loved when the mail carrier would notice stamps that snuck through and they would mark them off with a sharpie...the best though, the rare chance when all of the above would be missed and then I would get free stamps off the envelopes...you gotta be frugal when living in DC sometimes...
I also think it is humorous to see who blatantly disregards deadlines. When a piece of paperwork has to be postmarked by a certain date and it is clearly marked a week after that...like...do you really think when I, the person in charge of registration sets a deadline...I am not going to check and see if the deadline is met?!?
awesome stamps
Clearly though, the best part EVER about getting so much mail was looking at all of the stamps that came in to our office. Now, let me remind you...I worked for a Jewish organization and the events I hosted were for Jewish teenagers...yet, as soon as November came around, you better believe it, the Christmas stamps came rolling in...FUN!
It was fun to watch as new stamps came in...
Star Wars
Breast Cancer Awareness
Flowers
Americana
Birds
Disney
Vintage
It was even more fun to see when new stamps would come out, which ones would last longer and which would never hit the mail.
At some point I thought it would be cool to start collecting some of these stamps. I didn’t cut them all out, but when something across my desk that I had not seen or that were different I would clip them and slip them into an envelope under my keyboard.
I had totally forgotten about them until my car flooded last week...(okay, I left the sunroof open and it rained...) I had slipped that envelope into a compartment in my car and forgotten it was there. When I pulled everything out to see what got soaked, I decided to lay out the stamps so they would dry nicely...and now I am just trying to figure out what to do with all of these cool stamps.
If you have any cool craft ideas...let me know!
Whether or not the mail is actually for me, there was enjoyment in receiving it. I certainly miss the pseudo-love felt upon opening 15+ letters every single day!
for now though, maybe I will write a real letter so I can get one in return...
LM
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
on halloween traditions
When I was little, we had a lot of Halloween traditions.
So, what does that mean for a late 20-something with no kids and a strong fondness for the memories wrapped up in this holiday but no desire to wear a gory-gross costume to an intimate gathering or get sexed up for a street party or even figure out some witty play on words, pop culture reference or news headline to costume myself for an evening of laughing at drunkards and turning in early.
I love Halloween.
I always have.
I don’t love the spiders or witch cauldron, bloody severed body parts or the living dead. I actually really don’t like makeup on my face and I think fake blood is lame. I really don’t like scary movies or haunted houses, but there is something about this time of the year that makes me smile, that makes me happy, that makes me think about how I have become the person I am today and how much those moments still impact me today.
I think the reality is I think 90% of my affinity for the holiday stems from quality time with my dad. I don’t ever remember the question of “what do you want to be for Halloween” coming up in our house. It was more like a constant nagging brainstorm on every Sunday afternoon in September...(after the Star Ledger and New York Times had been read and coffee consumed nagging Dad on a Sunday afternoon was fair game)...because as soon as the calendar flipped from September to October that meant Halloween was close. It meant we could pick out pumpkins and begin begging to carve them. It meant dad and I would have to begin creating whatever outlandish costume I had decided on that year.
There is something about making your own costume. Somehow between October 31 and September I would forget how hard it was to walk and trick or treat in a big box that we had turned into something incredible...but I loved that time then and I smile even more now thinking back on it.
I remember the year I was a witch and my brother was Batman. We were living in New Jersey and I think I dressed up for school and to trick or treat...which meant goopy green makeup had to be applied twice. I vaguely remember asking (or perhaps more accurately TELLING) my mom to apply the makeup all by myself. If I remember correctly...it meant I was in Maplewood...which also meant I was in Kindergarten or first grade. I also had a really big problem with the fact that my black shirt to be a witch had bright colorful buttons sewed to it...Sigh...
I also remember the year my dad helped me make (okay...lets be real...he made them) butterfly wings with my old preschool artwork. One year we did the classic blow up a bunch of balloons and put them inside a dry cleaning bag wrapped around your child exposing only their hands, legs below the knee and head... If I remember correctly, I couldn’t sit at my desk in school...I also don’t remember if I was a bag of grapes or a bag of jelly beans that year. I do remember loving that costume.
EIther the year before or the year after the witch I was a ballerina. If you have never heard the story of Lindsey as ballet dancer I will give you the abridged version. I was signed up for tap and ballet...great...I went to class...great...We had a recital...fantastic...my friend Erin Murray was in my class...fun...after the recital we went to Baskin Robbins for ice cream...I got bubble gum ice cream (my favorite at the time)...I signed up for a second year of dance class...it was because of the ice cream at the end...not the act of dancing...again, another indication of who I am today...EITHER WAY...I was a ballerina for Halloween. I was probably in first grade, because Ben in the stroller was a bee and not 2 weeks old...he was a yar old I am pretty sure. This costume was, I think, the most girly thing I chose to do in the early years of my life. That night was a FIGHT of epic proportions for a 6 year old. You see, my costume consisted of a leotard, tights and a tutu. We lived in New Jersey. October 31 in New Jersey is COLD. My mom made me put on a white sweater before she would let me go trick or treat. “BALLERINAS DO NOT WEAR SWEATERS!” I yelled. I don’t remember my mom replying...but the picture from Halloween that night is me...a pretty ballerina with tutu, eyeshaddow and a bun on my head...wearing a large, white sweater. Victory mom.
I remember lots of school parades for Halloween.
I remember being allowed to have candy and cupcakes and a party. It was the best day of school EVER! The world has changed a lot. Not only can we not celebrate religious holidays in school...we also can’t celebrate KID holidays in school anymore...
The best costumes (BY FAR!!!) that my dad and I ever made were The Empire State Building and an ATM. Both of these costumes had fatal flaws though. The Empire State Building was made in South Orange...so I was in 3rd or 4th grade...I think 4th because I am pretty sure I was a vampire in 3rd grade (even though that is lame) and I think I remember that because we have a class picture of Mrs. Leverett’s class...and a blonde boy in my class was a REALLY good Steve Urkle. Back to The Empire State Building though--THAT COSTUME WAS FREAKING HEAVY. Two weekends of paper mache on cardboard boxes just increased the weight of that structure. Let’s also be real, The Empire State Building is really tall...so was my costume...and my legs were covered with boxes, my knees could bend but not enough to walk up stairs (easily) to get to front doors to beg for candy. The next year, we learned. I was an ATM. I think I was in 5th grade because we were living in Raleigh. My dad and I went to the Nations Bank and we did rubbings with crayon of the logo and the surfaces of the ATM. Today we would probably be arrested doing things like that. We learned not to make the box so long and at least the ATM didn’t cover my knees...BUT...an ATM is square...we got too wide a box...and I couldn’t hold my trick or treat bag with both hands in front of me. (you know to open it up to random strangers so they could pour candy in it).
Subsequent years meant less ambition to create Halloween costumes. I do remember a band concert that fell on (or maybe just near) Halloween. We were allowed to wear costumes...and I am certain it was 1995 because I painted the Windows 95 logo on a T-shirt for the costume contest. I thought I was clever....
I don’t remember Halloween in High School...it wasn’t a big deal. In college, not so much either...I remember painting a green sweatsuit with Crayola markings to be a crayon one year...I think in college, but now that I am older I find myself wanting to observe this fantastic holiday again. I want trick or treaters to come to my house framed with glowing carved pumpkins and jack-o-lanterns and perhaps some artificial cobweb and a fake tombstone or two. I also want babies dressed in super-cute snuggly costumes... Someday...
I also remember the candy part of Halloween when we were younger. Ben, my brother is a number of years younger than me which means there were a number of years when I was able to sweet talk him out of my favorite candy and make trades like RAISINS for SKITTLES (might explain the two of us if you look at us today!) and even though as he got older and grew wise to my shenanigans, he never really “won” the Halloween Candy game in our house. You see, chocolates were usually taken out of the bag and put in the freezer...we could have one or two...but for a long while that was dad’s stash. Dad likes frozen Snickers and Milky Way if I remember correctly...
This practice left us with anything hard, chewy, fruity or <gasp> healthy. A few years I was also left with a few pennies...I think in Maplewood some of the older neighbors gave them out from a dish by their front door. I remember vividly thinking how cool it was they were giving me FREE MONEY! (sigh, to be young again!) But, that aside, back to what is important...my brother is frugal. He always has been. He lives effectively on budgets and planning. He would count dimes and save them all up for a big purchase. He did the same thing with his Halloween candy. He would trick or treat and then after sorting it and counting it he would stash it away in a pillowcase or plastic bin in a super-secret hiding place in his bedroom...usually in his closet, sometimes in the drawer under his bed...and he would forget about it. So, even once he was too smart to trade for raisins, I had a stellar stash at my disposal--as long as he was out of the house or playing outside and I could sneak into his room undetected. Seriously, the kid still had half a bin left one year when he went out trick or treating for more!
Halloweens since college have been filled with NFTY events that fell over Halloween weekend and 20-something nights of pumpkin carving and TV on the couch. I never bought in to the Nightmare on M Street deal in DC...and I didn’t think it was worth a $50 cover to get into a massive party in a club on U Street. The best Halloween memory in DC was going out to Butler’s with Bess and spending the day on the farm, picking out pumpkins and enjoying a DC fall day...We carved our pumpkins that year-mine had stars and swirls and my monogram carved in. Bess made a Rabbi with curly hair ringlets and even a little yarmulke I think...typical. OH...and the best Halloween treat in DC- Pumpkin custard from The Dairy Godmother...or that flavor they had that had crunchies on top and pumpkin seeds...man, I miss that place! One Halloween in DC I also remember dressing up for a costume contest at the gym...I was a tennis player in a white polo shirt and pink pleated skirt...such is the story of my life...
Last year, I asked Chris to pick out pumpkins and make time one night for us to carve. We did and the Thursday before Halloween we carved our pumpkins. I knew I would not be around for Halloween night--another NFTY regional event...such is life--so we celebrated early. Once again, our pumpkins were pretty indicative of our personalities. Chris was no-nonsense, loopy, wonky eyes, rounded triangle nose and a toothy grin. I spent time cutting stars and carving swirls, adding a crescent moon and finally adding a few bats into the night sky. This year, again we planned to carve pumpkins. Chris was more willing to plan this event this year. Last year I got a bit of pushback and silly comments about this being a bit childish. Chris found an organic farm this year to go and pick out our pumpkins. We drove out together and spent time looking at the produce and farm-made goods and left with 3 beautiful pumpkins. Saturday I told Chris I was going to carve the third before he got home--because it takes me longer to do one, let alone two--and I carved a lovely U for Miami and the ‘Miami’ text. We celebrated Halloween sitting by the pool, carving our classic pumpkins. I went with a vampire this year...he again opted for triangle eyes, triangle nose and toothy grin. “How many times do we have to do this before this is tradition,” Chris asked. “Do it once, something new...do it twice, it’s tradition!”
Who knows what all of this means for the future. I know that I want to be that house that has the Halloween party to beat all others. I am excited about the day I can peel grapes for eyeballs and have little kids walk on potato chip bones. I want to make costumes and invite trick or treaters...I love the fall season. Halloween and then Thanksgiving-another favorite. If only it would get a bit cooler here in Florida.
for now
LM
So, what does that mean for a late 20-something with no kids and a strong fondness for the memories wrapped up in this holiday but no desire to wear a gory-gross costume to an intimate gathering or get sexed up for a street party or even figure out some witty play on words, pop culture reference or news headline to costume myself for an evening of laughing at drunkards and turning in early.
I love Halloween.
I always have.
I don’t love the spiders or witch cauldron, bloody severed body parts or the living dead. I actually really don’t like makeup on my face and I think fake blood is lame. I really don’t like scary movies or haunted houses, but there is something about this time of the year that makes me smile, that makes me happy, that makes me think about how I have become the person I am today and how much those moments still impact me today.
I think the reality is I think 90% of my affinity for the holiday stems from quality time with my dad. I don’t ever remember the question of “what do you want to be for Halloween” coming up in our house. It was more like a constant nagging brainstorm on every Sunday afternoon in September...(after the Star Ledger and New York Times had been read and coffee consumed nagging Dad on a Sunday afternoon was fair game)...because as soon as the calendar flipped from September to October that meant Halloween was close. It meant we could pick out pumpkins and begin begging to carve them. It meant dad and I would have to begin creating whatever outlandish costume I had decided on that year.
There is something about making your own costume. Somehow between October 31 and September I would forget how hard it was to walk and trick or treat in a big box that we had turned into something incredible...but I loved that time then and I smile even more now thinking back on it.
I remember the year I was a witch and my brother was Batman. We were living in New Jersey and I think I dressed up for school and to trick or treat...which meant goopy green makeup had to be applied twice. I vaguely remember asking (or perhaps more accurately TELLING) my mom to apply the makeup all by myself. If I remember correctly...it meant I was in Maplewood...which also meant I was in Kindergarten or first grade. I also had a really big problem with the fact that my black shirt to be a witch had bright colorful buttons sewed to it...Sigh...
I also remember the year my dad helped me make (okay...lets be real...he made them) butterfly wings with my old preschool artwork. One year we did the classic blow up a bunch of balloons and put them inside a dry cleaning bag wrapped around your child exposing only their hands, legs below the knee and head... If I remember correctly, I couldn’t sit at my desk in school...I also don’t remember if I was a bag of grapes or a bag of jelly beans that year. I do remember loving that costume.
EIther the year before or the year after the witch I was a ballerina. If you have never heard the story of Lindsey as ballet dancer I will give you the abridged version. I was signed up for tap and ballet...great...I went to class...great...We had a recital...fantastic...my friend Erin Murray was in my class...fun...after the recital we went to Baskin Robbins for ice cream...I got bubble gum ice cream (my favorite at the time)...I signed up for a second year of dance class...it was because of the ice cream at the end...not the act of dancing...again, another indication of who I am today...EITHER WAY...I was a ballerina for Halloween. I was probably in first grade, because Ben in the stroller was a bee and not 2 weeks old...he was a yar old I am pretty sure. This costume was, I think, the most girly thing I chose to do in the early years of my life. That night was a FIGHT of epic proportions for a 6 year old. You see, my costume consisted of a leotard, tights and a tutu. We lived in New Jersey. October 31 in New Jersey is COLD. My mom made me put on a white sweater before she would let me go trick or treat. “BALLERINAS DO NOT WEAR SWEATERS!” I yelled. I don’t remember my mom replying...but the picture from Halloween that night is me...a pretty ballerina with tutu, eyeshaddow and a bun on my head...wearing a large, white sweater. Victory mom.
I remember lots of school parades for Halloween.
I remember being allowed to have candy and cupcakes and a party. It was the best day of school EVER! The world has changed a lot. Not only can we not celebrate religious holidays in school...we also can’t celebrate KID holidays in school anymore...
The best costumes (BY FAR!!!) that my dad and I ever made were The Empire State Building and an ATM. Both of these costumes had fatal flaws though. The Empire State Building was made in South Orange...so I was in 3rd or 4th grade...I think 4th because I am pretty sure I was a vampire in 3rd grade (even though that is lame) and I think I remember that because we have a class picture of Mrs. Leverett’s class...and a blonde boy in my class was a REALLY good Steve Urkle. Back to The Empire State Building though--THAT COSTUME WAS FREAKING HEAVY. Two weekends of paper mache on cardboard boxes just increased the weight of that structure. Let’s also be real, The Empire State Building is really tall...so was my costume...and my legs were covered with boxes, my knees could bend but not enough to walk up stairs (easily) to get to front doors to beg for candy. The next year, we learned. I was an ATM. I think I was in 5th grade because we were living in Raleigh. My dad and I went to the Nations Bank and we did rubbings with crayon of the logo and the surfaces of the ATM. Today we would probably be arrested doing things like that. We learned not to make the box so long and at least the ATM didn’t cover my knees...BUT...an ATM is square...we got too wide a box...and I couldn’t hold my trick or treat bag with both hands in front of me. (you know to open it up to random strangers so they could pour candy in it).
Subsequent years meant less ambition to create Halloween costumes. I do remember a band concert that fell on (or maybe just near) Halloween. We were allowed to wear costumes...and I am certain it was 1995 because I painted the Windows 95 logo on a T-shirt for the costume contest. I thought I was clever....
I don’t remember Halloween in High School...it wasn’t a big deal. In college, not so much either...I remember painting a green sweatsuit with Crayola markings to be a crayon one year...I think in college, but now that I am older I find myself wanting to observe this fantastic holiday again. I want trick or treaters to come to my house framed with glowing carved pumpkins and jack-o-lanterns and perhaps some artificial cobweb and a fake tombstone or two. I also want babies dressed in super-cute snuggly costumes... Someday...
I also remember the candy part of Halloween when we were younger. Ben, my brother is a number of years younger than me which means there were a number of years when I was able to sweet talk him out of my favorite candy and make trades like RAISINS for SKITTLES (might explain the two of us if you look at us today!) and even though as he got older and grew wise to my shenanigans, he never really “won” the Halloween Candy game in our house. You see, chocolates were usually taken out of the bag and put in the freezer...we could have one or two...but for a long while that was dad’s stash. Dad likes frozen Snickers and Milky Way if I remember correctly...
This practice left us with anything hard, chewy, fruity or <gasp> healthy. A few years I was also left with a few pennies...I think in Maplewood some of the older neighbors gave them out from a dish by their front door. I remember vividly thinking how cool it was they were giving me FREE MONEY! (sigh, to be young again!) But, that aside, back to what is important...my brother is frugal. He always has been. He lives effectively on budgets and planning. He would count dimes and save them all up for a big purchase. He did the same thing with his Halloween candy. He would trick or treat and then after sorting it and counting it he would stash it away in a pillowcase or plastic bin in a super-secret hiding place in his bedroom...usually in his closet, sometimes in the drawer under his bed...and he would forget about it. So, even once he was too smart to trade for raisins, I had a stellar stash at my disposal--as long as he was out of the house or playing outside and I could sneak into his room undetected. Seriously, the kid still had half a bin left one year when he went out trick or treating for more!
Halloweens since college have been filled with NFTY events that fell over Halloween weekend and 20-something nights of pumpkin carving and TV on the couch. I never bought in to the Nightmare on M Street deal in DC...and I didn’t think it was worth a $50 cover to get into a massive party in a club on U Street. The best Halloween memory in DC was going out to Butler’s with Bess and spending the day on the farm, picking out pumpkins and enjoying a DC fall day...We carved our pumpkins that year-mine had stars and swirls and my monogram carved in. Bess made a Rabbi with curly hair ringlets and even a little yarmulke I think...typical. OH...and the best Halloween treat in DC- Pumpkin custard from The Dairy Godmother...or that flavor they had that had crunchies on top and pumpkin seeds...man, I miss that place! One Halloween in DC I also remember dressing up for a costume contest at the gym...I was a tennis player in a white polo shirt and pink pleated skirt...such is the story of my life...
Last year, I asked Chris to pick out pumpkins and make time one night for us to carve. We did and the Thursday before Halloween we carved our pumpkins. I knew I would not be around for Halloween night--another NFTY regional event...such is life--so we celebrated early. Once again, our pumpkins were pretty indicative of our personalities. Chris was no-nonsense, loopy, wonky eyes, rounded triangle nose and a toothy grin. I spent time cutting stars and carving swirls, adding a crescent moon and finally adding a few bats into the night sky. This year, again we planned to carve pumpkins. Chris was more willing to plan this event this year. Last year I got a bit of pushback and silly comments about this being a bit childish. Chris found an organic farm this year to go and pick out our pumpkins. We drove out together and spent time looking at the produce and farm-made goods and left with 3 beautiful pumpkins. Saturday I told Chris I was going to carve the third before he got home--because it takes me longer to do one, let alone two--and I carved a lovely U for Miami and the ‘Miami’ text. We celebrated Halloween sitting by the pool, carving our classic pumpkins. I went with a vampire this year...he again opted for triangle eyes, triangle nose and toothy grin. “How many times do we have to do this before this is tradition,” Chris asked. “Do it once, something new...do it twice, it’s tradition!”
Who knows what all of this means for the future. I know that I want to be that house that has the Halloween party to beat all others. I am excited about the day I can peel grapes for eyeballs and have little kids walk on potato chip bones. I want to make costumes and invite trick or treaters...I love the fall season. Halloween and then Thanksgiving-another favorite. If only it would get a bit cooler here in Florida.
for now
LM
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
on educational moments
There are some days when the things I find myself doing by the end of the day are no where NEAR what I anticipated doing at the beginning of the day. Today has CERTAINLY been one of those days.
It is no secret that as Professional Youth Worker I find myself seeing inspiration and educational opportunities in the most obscure as well as the most obvious places. I cannot lie, there have been times when MTV has provided great educational resources. They have intentionally educated their viewing population about issues like voting and AIDS, same sex relationships and the reality of the war and how it impacts members of the current generation. Today it was brought to my attention that MTV has aired an episode of their popular “Challenge” that offers more educational opportunities than I am sure they anticipated.
Midday I opened an email from one of my oldest friends from summer camp. She had received a forward, a letter from a co-worker that had been sent to MTV to express her disgust with the first episode of The Challenge:Cutthroat.
This season MTV has presented “The Challenge:Cutthroat,” where members of past casts of The Challenge, Real World and Road Rules come together to battle for the “handsome reward,” win challenges for cash and other prizes all while drinking their nights away. It has never been a secret that these battles are alcohol induced nights of making out, breaking up and making up before going face to face in physical challenges.
I can’t lie--upon reading this email--I had to see it for myself. I wasn’t sure if others had expressed concern to MTV and if the episode would still be posted, to my disgust, surprise and intellectual/educational joy, the episode was still posted. It didn’t take more than 5 minutes of this show to be disgusted beyond belief with the presentation.
I cannot believe this show made it so far, through production, through all of the little guys and the big-wigs and not a single person would question whether this was an inappropriate or insensitive topic to broach.
So here is my run-down of this first episode and the moments that have made me think, the moments I am still processing, the things I cannot believe MTV broadcast.
The Challenge:Cutthroat is set in Prague, in the Czech Republic. For those of you that don’t know, this is an area that experienced incredible change as a result of WW2 and the Jewish presence in community is still impacted today.
The episode begins with a running race to an unknown location. There are air raid sirens blaring. TJ Lavin, the host starts with “This is the Gulag.” and the editing quickly cuts to Dan, one of the contestants saying “Our gulag is like something out of some crazy like World War Two like Science Fiction Movie. Everything about it spells pain and torture.”
Now, I did not know exactly what a “gulag” was, but a quick Google search confirmed my suspicions. The Gulag or GULag was the government agency that administered over the Soviet penal labor camp system. The Gulag was officially created in 1930 and dissolved in 1960 but in March of 1940 there were 53 camps and 423 labor colonies in the USSR. The population in these camps varied greatly but their connection to World War Two and the prisoners, many of whom were imprisoned due to their acts against and intolerance of the government of the time.
So back to the episode...
The “Gulag” is where elimination rounds will take place.
<<man...we are not even 5 minutes into this 45 minutes online episode...>>
A few more minutes into the show, a night of celebration for the contestants and a number of drinks later, the contestants receive a text on their T-Mobile phones...
“You may shed some tears at tomorrow challenge”
Cut to reflections from the cast, some talk about cutting up onions and then there is a resounding “Tear Gas!”
As contestants walk up, we see symbols marking the area ‘toxic’ or ‘radioactive’
TJ announces again their location, Prague in the Czech Republic as the teams walk up to the challenge and then he says “Today’s challenge is called ‘Gas Problems.’”
The essence of the challenge is contestants pair up and run into a gas chamber and have to read a series of letters and numbers to decipher a code. Now, initially...after just reading the email, I thought the players were locked in the chamber and had to decipher the code to get out...it is not QUITE that horrific...but for those of us (perhaps more) well versed on our World War Two history...the idea of people running into a chamber emitting a cloudy gas into the air and then hearing quotations from the contestants impacted me viscerally...I am disgusted MTV...
16 minutes into this only presentation you see gas filling the gas chamber (albeit tear gas) and then contestants start sharing their feelings via voiceover and cut to testimonial a la MTV Reality shows...
“[it was] pretty tough to control your breathing.” says a female contestant
“My brain is not functioning properly because my eyes are burning...I am breathing in what feels like fire,” says Johnny, a Challenge and MTV Veteran.
And then when a contestant has to return because he did not remember the right code Theresa is edited in to share her sentiment that “You better sprint your ass as fast as you can back into that gas chamber and don’t mess it up this time.”
Shavaun, a girly-girl and team captain is then quoted as saying “I am freaked out I have to go into a gas chamber.”
We continue watching and hear other contestants reflecting on their challenges, their ability to compete and their physical responses to the gas in the chamber.
“I am shaking--convulsing back and forth, the pain is so bad I am actually afraid I am going to go blind.” Tyler says and then his partner comments that if he cannot do it, she will have to do it for him.
Dan, who commented early in the show about the World War Two influences of the set then says “I had a flashback of having to do this in the military,” and then he proceeds to begin gagging.
The games continue, a team wins, and then TJ awards the prizes and the money and announces that each of the two losing teams will need to nominate 1 guy and 2 girl to send into the Gulag. Let’s break this down...one guy...and one girl...from each team has to go into the arena that is named after the political prison...On top of that, once back at the home...each teammate will go down into the dungeon and vote in secret for the person that will go into the Gulag.
Once TJ announces who will battle in the arena, we then see another night of drinking and debauchery akin to MTV Reality challenges...and we proceed to the Gulag.
Teams arrive to air raid sirens and TJ’s announcement that “This is the Gulag.” and “Tonight you will be playing handcuffs.”
I don’t know why I felt the need to watch and assess this episode with such a sharp eye...but I also know that this is something that the general public will watch without knowledge and with a zombie-like acceptance just like many other things that are inappropriate on TV today. I just don’t understand how this episode went through as many filters as a major network must have to clear a show for airing.
I just don’t get it.
I want this to raise awareness. I feel like I need to do more to ‘raise hell.‘ I don’t want to boycott MTV...because I DO think they have done so much to make their viewing audience aware of a issues in the world around them that they may not have experienced the say way before.
I have to think about it more. I don’t know just yet how I want to react...but I know...this is NOT okay...what do you think?
for now
LM
It is no secret that as Professional Youth Worker I find myself seeing inspiration and educational opportunities in the most obscure as well as the most obvious places. I cannot lie, there have been times when MTV has provided great educational resources. They have intentionally educated their viewing population about issues like voting and AIDS, same sex relationships and the reality of the war and how it impacts members of the current generation. Today it was brought to my attention that MTV has aired an episode of their popular “Challenge” that offers more educational opportunities than I am sure they anticipated.
Midday I opened an email from one of my oldest friends from summer camp. She had received a forward, a letter from a co-worker that had been sent to MTV to express her disgust with the first episode of The Challenge:Cutthroat.
This season MTV has presented “The Challenge:Cutthroat,” where members of past casts of The Challenge, Real World and Road Rules come together to battle for the “handsome reward,” win challenges for cash and other prizes all while drinking their nights away. It has never been a secret that these battles are alcohol induced nights of making out, breaking up and making up before going face to face in physical challenges.
I can’t lie--upon reading this email--I had to see it for myself. I wasn’t sure if others had expressed concern to MTV and if the episode would still be posted, to my disgust, surprise and intellectual/educational joy, the episode was still posted. It didn’t take more than 5 minutes of this show to be disgusted beyond belief with the presentation.
I cannot believe this show made it so far, through production, through all of the little guys and the big-wigs and not a single person would question whether this was an inappropriate or insensitive topic to broach.
So here is my run-down of this first episode and the moments that have made me think, the moments I am still processing, the things I cannot believe MTV broadcast.
The Challenge:Cutthroat is set in Prague, in the Czech Republic. For those of you that don’t know, this is an area that experienced incredible change as a result of WW2 and the Jewish presence in community is still impacted today.
The episode begins with a running race to an unknown location. There are air raid sirens blaring. TJ Lavin, the host starts with “This is the Gulag.” and the editing quickly cuts to Dan, one of the contestants saying “Our gulag is like something out of some crazy like World War Two like Science Fiction Movie. Everything about it spells pain and torture.”
Now, I did not know exactly what a “gulag” was, but a quick Google search confirmed my suspicions. The Gulag or GULag was the government agency that administered over the Soviet penal labor camp system. The Gulag was officially created in 1930 and dissolved in 1960 but in March of 1940 there were 53 camps and 423 labor colonies in the USSR. The population in these camps varied greatly but their connection to World War Two and the prisoners, many of whom were imprisoned due to their acts against and intolerance of the government of the time.
So back to the episode...
The “Gulag” is where elimination rounds will take place.
<<man...we are not even 5 minutes into this 45 minutes online episode...>>
A few more minutes into the show, a night of celebration for the contestants and a number of drinks later, the contestants receive a text on their T-Mobile phones...
“You may shed some tears at tomorrow challenge”
Cut to reflections from the cast, some talk about cutting up onions and then there is a resounding “Tear Gas!”
As contestants walk up, we see symbols marking the area ‘toxic’ or ‘radioactive’
TJ announces again their location, Prague in the Czech Republic as the teams walk up to the challenge and then he says “Today’s challenge is called ‘Gas Problems.’”
The essence of the challenge is contestants pair up and run into a gas chamber and have to read a series of letters and numbers to decipher a code. Now, initially...after just reading the email, I thought the players were locked in the chamber and had to decipher the code to get out...it is not QUITE that horrific...but for those of us (perhaps more) well versed on our World War Two history...the idea of people running into a chamber emitting a cloudy gas into the air and then hearing quotations from the contestants impacted me viscerally...I am disgusted MTV...
16 minutes into this only presentation you see gas filling the gas chamber (albeit tear gas) and then contestants start sharing their feelings via voiceover and cut to testimonial a la MTV Reality shows...
“[it was] pretty tough to control your breathing.” says a female contestant
“My brain is not functioning properly because my eyes are burning...I am breathing in what feels like fire,” says Johnny, a Challenge and MTV Veteran.
And then when a contestant has to return because he did not remember the right code Theresa is edited in to share her sentiment that “You better sprint your ass as fast as you can back into that gas chamber and don’t mess it up this time.”
Shavaun, a girly-girl and team captain is then quoted as saying “I am freaked out I have to go into a gas chamber.”
We continue watching and hear other contestants reflecting on their challenges, their ability to compete and their physical responses to the gas in the chamber.
“I am shaking--convulsing back and forth, the pain is so bad I am actually afraid I am going to go blind.” Tyler says and then his partner comments that if he cannot do it, she will have to do it for him.
Dan, who commented early in the show about the World War Two influences of the set then says “I had a flashback of having to do this in the military,” and then he proceeds to begin gagging.
The games continue, a team wins, and then TJ awards the prizes and the money and announces that each of the two losing teams will need to nominate 1 guy and 2 girl to send into the Gulag. Let’s break this down...one guy...and one girl...from each team has to go into the arena that is named after the political prison...On top of that, once back at the home...each teammate will go down into the dungeon and vote in secret for the person that will go into the Gulag.
Once TJ announces who will battle in the arena, we then see another night of drinking and debauchery akin to MTV Reality challenges...and we proceed to the Gulag.
Teams arrive to air raid sirens and TJ’s announcement that “This is the Gulag.” and “Tonight you will be playing handcuffs.”
I don’t know why I felt the need to watch and assess this episode with such a sharp eye...but I also know that this is something that the general public will watch without knowledge and with a zombie-like acceptance just like many other things that are inappropriate on TV today. I just don’t understand how this episode went through as many filters as a major network must have to clear a show for airing.
I just don’t get it.
I want this to raise awareness. I feel like I need to do more to ‘raise hell.‘ I don’t want to boycott MTV...because I DO think they have done so much to make their viewing audience aware of a issues in the world around them that they may not have experienced the say way before.
I have to think about it more. I don’t know just yet how I want to react...but I know...this is NOT okay...what do you think?
for now
LM
Monday, October 11, 2010
on being happy
Do ONE thing every day that makes you happy.
It is a lot easier said then done...
Nearly a year ago I was sitting across the table from one of the few people in this world that has always taken time to not just hear what I am saying, but to listen too. I had been living in Tampa for just a few months and I was still really struggling with the transition to life down here. I was not sure if I was where I was supposed to be. I was living in what could have been as opposed to what was. I was choosing to look at what I didn’t have anymore instead of what I did have. Sitting across that table with parallel conversations happening-Me, intently listening...but probably sharing more while Chris talked boats happily right next to me. Something hit me after that conversation...as happens with most after these great talks...and I realized that I need to not only SAY I am going to make a difference...but I need to DO SOMETHING to remind me why it is so important to hold myself accountable to DO ONE THINGS EVERY DAY THAT MAKES ME HAPPY!
It was actually a phone call I received on Monday, November 16 that made me start this process--but I promised myself that every day, for the next 365 days I would do something that made me happy. Some days it has been something I have done for the reason of making a personal decision to do something for me...some days I have found true and pure joy in what I was doing anyway. Either way...with just a few weeks until I have marked 12 months, 52 weeks, 365 days of happiness--I decided to look back to where it all began.
There have been very few people who know I am actually doing this project. I talk about it occasionally but I am not sure who knows that I literally sit with a blank calendar, sometimes daily..sometimes weekly...and yesterday, I filled in 3 weeks...with little pictures that represent the things I have done, the moments I don’t want to forget, the things that make me happy.
My first year in Tampa has not been an easy one. I struggle often with what brought me here. I battle regularly with what I want most, what I am striving for and how I am supposed to get there from this starting point. I still don’t know the answer to any of these questions--what I do know, is taking the time to focus on what IS and what makes things better is more beneficial than dwelling on the unknown and the struggles I face (or feel I face) on a regular basis.
Honestly, this process makes me want to blog the 365 days of happiness NEXT year....but...we will see...
for now
LM
It is a lot easier said then done...
Nearly a year ago I was sitting across the table from one of the few people in this world that has always taken time to not just hear what I am saying, but to listen too. I had been living in Tampa for just a few months and I was still really struggling with the transition to life down here. I was not sure if I was where I was supposed to be. I was living in what could have been as opposed to what was. I was choosing to look at what I didn’t have anymore instead of what I did have. Sitting across that table with parallel conversations happening-Me, intently listening...but probably sharing more while Chris talked boats happily right next to me. Something hit me after that conversation...as happens with most after these great talks...and I realized that I need to not only SAY I am going to make a difference...but I need to DO SOMETHING to remind me why it is so important to hold myself accountable to DO ONE THINGS EVERY DAY THAT MAKES ME HAPPY!
It was actually a phone call I received on Monday, November 16 that made me start this process--but I promised myself that every day, for the next 365 days I would do something that made me happy. Some days it has been something I have done for the reason of making a personal decision to do something for me...some days I have found true and pure joy in what I was doing anyway. Either way...with just a few weeks until I have marked 12 months, 52 weeks, 365 days of happiness--I decided to look back to where it all began.
There have been very few people who know I am actually doing this project. I talk about it occasionally but I am not sure who knows that I literally sit with a blank calendar, sometimes daily..sometimes weekly...and yesterday, I filled in 3 weeks...with little pictures that represent the things I have done, the moments I don’t want to forget, the things that make me happy.
My first year in Tampa has not been an easy one. I struggle often with what brought me here. I battle regularly with what I want most, what I am striving for and how I am supposed to get there from this starting point. I still don’t know the answer to any of these questions--what I do know, is taking the time to focus on what IS and what makes things better is more beneficial than dwelling on the unknown and the struggles I face (or feel I face) on a regular basis.
Honestly, this process makes me want to blog the 365 days of happiness NEXT year....but...we will see...
for now
LM
Thursday, October 7, 2010
on music and my past
For as long as I can remember, music has been something that has had the ability to take me from any place and instantly transfer me to another time and place entirely. Yes, there are songs that so viscerally impact my psyche that I have to physically stop what I am doing to regroup, remind myself of my ACTUAL location, and proceed with the given task at hand.
Said songs include...
“Sailing” by Christopher Cross...yes...it was on Glee last week...that is really what made me start thinking about this. I know, most people don’t know who sang this little gem. However, most of my friends could tell you the answer in an instant. Well, my closest friends...because I think for many of them, they have the same instant reaction. Instantly I am 12, 16, 21 and 27 all at the same time. I am 12 awkwardly dancing with a boy inside the cage in very little lighting. I am 16 in a circle with 15 CILTs and Trainees. I am 21 smiling at my (now) 11 year old campers awkwardly dancing with a boy in slightly more lighting. I am 27 trying to remember how we coil those wires appropriately to pack up this dance. It is really a dynamic phenomenon.
“MmmBop” by Hanson...okay...now before you start judging my taste in music...(or continue judging?) I feel it is important to reiterate that I am a PROUD child of the 80s and grew up straddling the late 80s and early 90s. Hanson peaked in America in my early high school years and this song came to be an anthem of sorts at camp. We had our own dance! The summer of 1997 in particular it was played ALL.THE.TIME! For me, whenever I hear those nonsensical lyrics belted by pre-pubescent brothers (early JoBros if you will) who are all, for the record, now married! I am taken to the Camp Seafarer office. I am sitting at a desk with the window open...taking the most important test (to me) of my young life. With those 2 hours and MmmBop Day on the pier, my knowledge of the 7 signs of a mammal, 3 types of Basketball defenses, proper care for a horse saddle and the parts of a bow and arrow, tennis racquet, canoe and oar all meld together to form the memory of my General’s Written Exam. Sitting in a circle with the Land UAs and Camp Director Team just a few hours later--one of my proudest moments...still...to this day. Thank you Hanson.
“We Danced Anyway” by Deana Carter...I am 19 or so. I am driving, windows down, BELTING. With my best friends. We maybe are driving to dinner...maybe it is June, or October or February. No matter when it was...once I was NC...this song is what brought two feuding teens together...in my head, this song is me and CA and our friendship and the history that brought us to that time in our lives.
“Closer to Fine” by Indigo Girls...when I was in high school I wanted to buy and Indigo Girls CD and my mom asked me if I was gay. So, yes...that is an odd association...but whenever I hear this song, I am standing in a temple, in Kansas, in Nebraska, in Missouri...who knows. Guitars are playing and we are singing. It is blissful ignorance. It is NFTY before it became a job. It is why I am who I am. It is the feeling I want to create for the kids I work with now.
“Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman...I am maybe 7 or 8...maybe a little older...but not much. My dad is driving his (not so) fast car...Ford Hatchback...in that goldish/champagne color with a SWEET Cassette player. I think I rewound this cassette SO MANY TIMES it might have stopped playing (or my dad hid the tape). It didn’t matter where we were driving...10 minutes, hour, longer...this song was playing when I was in the car with my dad. I would go ANYWHERE with him. I still would...I miss that time...a lot.
“Faith” by George Michael...I am in Norfolk, Virginia surrounded by NFTY-MAR dancing and bouncing on inflatables. My mom is at Spring Kallah 2008 and it is weird. I was in the hospital a week earlier with a septic gallbladder and I didn’t know how I was going to GET to Spring Kallah...but I knew I was not going to miss this event...3 2-year board members were graduating...(and countless others) and elections I was happy to not have a vote in were on the agenda...I remember lots of details...it was not that long ago, but I will NEVER forget being surrounded by boys on the dance floor and Miriam having to rescue me. This song also makes me think of my dad...and a great group of girls that I am certain have no idea how much they taught me.
“We’re All in This Together” from High School Musical...yes...I know...goodness gracious...you must all really not believe me...from this list...my taste in music is not just questionable...it is really horribly, RANCID. This has nothing to do with sitting and watching TV...I honestly watched HSM because my high schoolers could not stop talking about it...and well, I saw HSM3 in the THEATER with the BEST group of girls a girl could ask for...after a great (GREAT!) night in NoVa...BUT...this song brings me instantly to the Beit Am at Kutz during Mechina, and Boards, and, well, all summer at Camp...thank you Andrew...you just put a smile on my face--just thinking about it!
“Purple Rain” by Prince or The Artist or The Artist Formerly Known As Prince or the symbol...whatever. I was really little. I am dancing on my dads feet. I love my dad. Enough said.
That is just a small sample. I am an auditory person. Sounds and songs trigger for me. So, what does that matter...why do you care and why am I all of a sudden writing about it today?
three words
ZAC
BROWN
BAND
yeah, chicken fried...yadda yadda yadda...I kinda hate that song now...but it was catchy for a week and it did make me buy the whole album and it did introduce me to one of the most talented musical groups I have heard in years. Not because they have the best voices I have ever heard...not because I always love the super-twangy folky country they slip into...not because Jimmy Buffett has also fallen in love with these guys (and he has...he doesn’t sing with others the way he has adopted these gents...but that is a perk!) These guys are INCREDIBLE story tellers through their music. If you have only listen to Chicken Fried...PLEASE give these guys another listen.
Highway 20 Ride, Toes, Whatever It Is, Where the Boat Leaves From...my heart is fluttering. I hope Parker appreciates the sentiments I am feeling right now. Clear skies, cool early summer evening, cruising around the county, heading over to the beach, an evening in New Bern...it doesn’t matter...this CD was the soundtrack of the summer of 2008.
Now, the guys have released their sophomore, er, Junior? er Senior? CD (if you count the live recordings that were released last year AND live from Bonaroo.) I finally bucked up and bought the deluxe edition on iTunes...and I cannot complain...not one bit...The words these guys find to string together their thoughts and their feelings and the collective understanding of (my) life right now...I just can’t handle it.
I think though, it is tied to the feeling of freedom I associate with the raspy refrains I think of when I hear ZBB. I want to take a REALLY LONG ROAD TRIP RIGHT NOW...so I can just listen on repeat...over and over and over again. I want these songs to fill my head and I want the time to invest in me. I want to rejuvenate and refresh. I want to be...with the windows down...unrestricted...untied...able to just think and be and do and go and grow and process and learn and teach and not have to justify all the damn time. I need an intellectual outlet too...badly...
Now following that little rant...here is a sampling of the goodness that is ZBB’s album, YOU GET WHAT YOU GIVE...and if THAT inherently isn’t a clue that these guys are right up my alley...well...then, Hi...my name is Lindsey...we need to spend more time getting to know one another....
From “As She’s Walking Away”
Now I'm falling in love as she's walking away
And my heart won't tell my mind
To tell my mouth what it should say
I may have lost this battle
Live to fight another day
Now I'm fallin in love as she's walkin away
From “Martin”
Stronger than steel and wood.
Seen me through the bad and good.
And when I'm hanging by a string,
Every little thing
Is understood
Between Martin and me.
From “Let It Go”
You keep your heart above your head and you eyes wide open
So this world can't find a way to leave you cold
And know you're not the only ship out on the ocean
Save your strength for things that you can change
Forgive the ones you can't
You gotta let 'em go
Looking back now on my life I can't say I regret it
And all the places that I ended up not the way Ma woulda had it
But you only get once chance at life to leave your mark upon it
And when a pony he comes riding by you better set your sweet ass on it
From “Make This Day”
We’re gonna make this day (make this day)
a little better than the last (better than the last)
Its amazing how slow a day like this can pass
Find a way to wash away (way to wash away)
any regrets you have
don’t let this moment pass
live inside this day.
I think that is all the philosophizing I am going to do today...
I am irritated still.
I want more.
for now though.
LM
Said songs include...
“Sailing” by Christopher Cross...yes...it was on Glee last week...that is really what made me start thinking about this. I know, most people don’t know who sang this little gem. However, most of my friends could tell you the answer in an instant. Well, my closest friends...because I think for many of them, they have the same instant reaction. Instantly I am 12, 16, 21 and 27 all at the same time. I am 12 awkwardly dancing with a boy inside the cage in very little lighting. I am 16 in a circle with 15 CILTs and Trainees. I am 21 smiling at my (now) 11 year old campers awkwardly dancing with a boy in slightly more lighting. I am 27 trying to remember how we coil those wires appropriately to pack up this dance. It is really a dynamic phenomenon.
“MmmBop” by Hanson...okay...now before you start judging my taste in music...(or continue judging?) I feel it is important to reiterate that I am a PROUD child of the 80s and grew up straddling the late 80s and early 90s. Hanson peaked in America in my early high school years and this song came to be an anthem of sorts at camp. We had our own dance! The summer of 1997 in particular it was played ALL.THE.TIME! For me, whenever I hear those nonsensical lyrics belted by pre-pubescent brothers (early JoBros if you will) who are all, for the record, now married! I am taken to the Camp Seafarer office. I am sitting at a desk with the window open...taking the most important test (to me) of my young life. With those 2 hours and MmmBop Day on the pier, my knowledge of the 7 signs of a mammal, 3 types of Basketball defenses, proper care for a horse saddle and the parts of a bow and arrow, tennis racquet, canoe and oar all meld together to form the memory of my General’s Written Exam. Sitting in a circle with the Land UAs and Camp Director Team just a few hours later--one of my proudest moments...still...to this day. Thank you Hanson.
“We Danced Anyway” by Deana Carter...I am 19 or so. I am driving, windows down, BELTING. With my best friends. We maybe are driving to dinner...maybe it is June, or October or February. No matter when it was...once I was NC...this song is what brought two feuding teens together...in my head, this song is me and CA and our friendship and the history that brought us to that time in our lives.
“Closer to Fine” by Indigo Girls...when I was in high school I wanted to buy and Indigo Girls CD and my mom asked me if I was gay. So, yes...that is an odd association...but whenever I hear this song, I am standing in a temple, in Kansas, in Nebraska, in Missouri...who knows. Guitars are playing and we are singing. It is blissful ignorance. It is NFTY before it became a job. It is why I am who I am. It is the feeling I want to create for the kids I work with now.
“Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman...I am maybe 7 or 8...maybe a little older...but not much. My dad is driving his (not so) fast car...Ford Hatchback...in that goldish/champagne color with a SWEET Cassette player. I think I rewound this cassette SO MANY TIMES it might have stopped playing (or my dad hid the tape). It didn’t matter where we were driving...10 minutes, hour, longer...this song was playing when I was in the car with my dad. I would go ANYWHERE with him. I still would...I miss that time...a lot.
“Faith” by George Michael...I am in Norfolk, Virginia surrounded by NFTY-MAR dancing and bouncing on inflatables. My mom is at Spring Kallah 2008 and it is weird. I was in the hospital a week earlier with a septic gallbladder and I didn’t know how I was going to GET to Spring Kallah...but I knew I was not going to miss this event...3 2-year board members were graduating...(and countless others) and elections I was happy to not have a vote in were on the agenda...I remember lots of details...it was not that long ago, but I will NEVER forget being surrounded by boys on the dance floor and Miriam having to rescue me. This song also makes me think of my dad...and a great group of girls that I am certain have no idea how much they taught me.
“We’re All in This Together” from High School Musical...yes...I know...goodness gracious...you must all really not believe me...from this list...my taste in music is not just questionable...it is really horribly, RANCID. This has nothing to do with sitting and watching TV...I honestly watched HSM because my high schoolers could not stop talking about it...and well, I saw HSM3 in the THEATER with the BEST group of girls a girl could ask for...after a great (GREAT!) night in NoVa...BUT...this song brings me instantly to the Beit Am at Kutz during Mechina, and Boards, and, well, all summer at Camp...thank you Andrew...you just put a smile on my face--just thinking about it!
“Purple Rain” by Prince or The Artist or The Artist Formerly Known As Prince or the symbol...whatever. I was really little. I am dancing on my dads feet. I love my dad. Enough said.
That is just a small sample. I am an auditory person. Sounds and songs trigger for me. So, what does that matter...why do you care and why am I all of a sudden writing about it today?
three words
ZAC
BROWN
BAND
yeah, chicken fried...yadda yadda yadda...I kinda hate that song now...but it was catchy for a week and it did make me buy the whole album and it did introduce me to one of the most talented musical groups I have heard in years. Not because they have the best voices I have ever heard...not because I always love the super-twangy folky country they slip into...not because Jimmy Buffett has also fallen in love with these guys (and he has...he doesn’t sing with others the way he has adopted these gents...but that is a perk!) These guys are INCREDIBLE story tellers through their music. If you have only listen to Chicken Fried...PLEASE give these guys another listen.
Highway 20 Ride, Toes, Whatever It Is, Where the Boat Leaves From...my heart is fluttering. I hope Parker appreciates the sentiments I am feeling right now. Clear skies, cool early summer evening, cruising around the county, heading over to the beach, an evening in New Bern...it doesn’t matter...this CD was the soundtrack of the summer of 2008.
Now, the guys have released their sophomore, er, Junior? er Senior? CD (if you count the live recordings that were released last year AND live from Bonaroo.) I finally bucked up and bought the deluxe edition on iTunes...and I cannot complain...not one bit...The words these guys find to string together their thoughts and their feelings and the collective understanding of (my) life right now...I just can’t handle it.
I think though, it is tied to the feeling of freedom I associate with the raspy refrains I think of when I hear ZBB. I want to take a REALLY LONG ROAD TRIP RIGHT NOW...so I can just listen on repeat...over and over and over again. I want these songs to fill my head and I want the time to invest in me. I want to rejuvenate and refresh. I want to be...with the windows down...unrestricted...untied...able to just think and be and do and go and grow and process and learn and teach and not have to justify all the damn time. I need an intellectual outlet too...badly...
Now following that little rant...here is a sampling of the goodness that is ZBB’s album, YOU GET WHAT YOU GIVE...and if THAT inherently isn’t a clue that these guys are right up my alley...well...then, Hi...my name is Lindsey...we need to spend more time getting to know one another....
From “As She’s Walking Away”
Now I'm falling in love as she's walking away
And my heart won't tell my mind
To tell my mouth what it should say
I may have lost this battle
Live to fight another day
Now I'm fallin in love as she's walkin away
From “Martin”
Stronger than steel and wood.
Seen me through the bad and good.
And when I'm hanging by a string,
Every little thing
Is understood
Between Martin and me.
From “Let It Go”
You keep your heart above your head and you eyes wide open
So this world can't find a way to leave you cold
And know you're not the only ship out on the ocean
Save your strength for things that you can change
Forgive the ones you can't
You gotta let 'em go
Looking back now on my life I can't say I regret it
And all the places that I ended up not the way Ma woulda had it
But you only get once chance at life to leave your mark upon it
And when a pony he comes riding by you better set your sweet ass on it
From “Make This Day”
We’re gonna make this day (make this day)
a little better than the last (better than the last)
Its amazing how slow a day like this can pass
Find a way to wash away (way to wash away)
any regrets you have
don’t let this moment pass
live inside this day.
I think that is all the philosophizing I am going to do today...
I am irritated still.
I want more.
for now though.
LM
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