Sunday, August 31, 2008

daddy's girl

I have always been a daddy's girl. It's not that I'm not close to my mom; I am. It's just different. And today is my dad's birthday. He's somewhere in his 70's. I'm not sure he'd appreciate my telling his exact age. I wish I had a picture loaded on my computer of him, but I don't. Sorry dad.

As a smaller child, I was my dad's sidekick. He taught me to appreciate a good football game (and even a bad one). I can recall many New Year's Days spent lying across the bottom of his bed watching bowl games. I'm pretty good in my bowl pool selections because I had a good teacher.

My dad spent over 30 years working for Ford within the stamping function. From what I recall, he was a program timing coordinator--a kind of logistics manager. We started in Chicago, then he transferred to Detroit. As I entered high school, he decided we needed to move, so he transferred down to Maumee (more than 50 miles so Ford bought our house in Detroit), and we landed in Bedford. Eventually, he started working back in Dearborn again, and spent a good 15 years doing the 45 minute commute every day.

I think my dad made it to most of my major milestones (except my actual birth--he was still parking the car). He actually did a few girl scout banquets when I was younger, and I know he was at the school plays and my eighth grade graduation. When I played basketball in high school (GO MULES!), he came to several games; not all, but as many as he could. Many parents were unable to do that way back in those dark ages. I know he was at my wedding--I also recall what he told me before I walked down the aisle. I won't put it here because it was, is, and always will be between us. Suffice it to say that it was fun and I was laughing as we moved on.

My dad tries to get to my kids' sporting events when possible. I'm not going to say he's in bad health, but he could be better. He does have a tough time walking. He had a knee replaced about 4 years ago, and he had some complications (life threatening) that left him in the hospital for 7 weeks instead of the 2 days they expected. He recovered, but given the experience, he's not too eager to get the other knee replaced.

Dad is our resident family historian. He started doing the family tree when he couldn't answer some simple family tree questions for a project my brother had way back when. Since then, he's been able to trace back 11 generations on several sides. Along the way, he's found a few famous ancestors and/or current distant relations. The one that I think is the coolest is Daniel Dafoe, author of Robinson Crusoe.

So daddy, Happy 70-something birthday.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Still Crazy After All These Years

I've mentioned a few times that I've spent part of my summer planning my 30 year high school reunion. The committee got a late start on planning, so attendance was a bit sparser than we would have liked, but I think that those who attended enjoyed themselves for the most part. The reunion committee is pictured above. I think we're holding up pretty well.

We started the weekend festivities with a mixer at Sidelines. We packed the dugout early on. Some 20-somethings started filtering in around 10:00 and tried to get us to leave by playing really nasty music on the jukebox. Since most of us have kids that age and have to listen to that stuff regularly, we were generally unfazed. We actually had several "lost" classmates who heard about the gathering and made it for Friday. I still don't have addresses for a few of them, but at least we know they are still around. I did pretty well at knowing who was who. I think there were 4 that I couldn't pin, but that's a pretty high batting average considering I haven't seen many for several years.

Saturday morning was our golf outing at Giant Oak. Bright and early--had to be there by 7:30--a bit rough after Friday night. I forgot my camera, unfortunately. We had 20 people on the links. I had fun with Wes, Mark, and Kevin--3 of my favorite people. They had to send a search party out for us because the rest of the group finished about a half hour ahead of us. We'll never tell the reason we were 3 holes behind. What happens on the golf course stays on the golf course. LOL.

After a nap, it was on to Connie's Celebration for the dinner party. A couple of our kids gave up their Saturday night to help at the check in table. At one point, though, I had to point out to Matt that he was supposed to be working the table. He told me he was working the room. Hard to argue with a 14 year old, so I didn't even try.


The 3 piece band was great, although Ron and his date Paige and Tim and Debby were the only ones that consistently "cut a rug" (as my mom would say). I think we must be getting old though--at our 5 year reunion, we tapped out the alcohol by about 9:00. This time, I think there was still a significant amount of beer in the keg as Cinderella left the ball.
Much reminiscing took place. We had folks in from Florida (2), Nevada, Oklahoma (2), Georgia, Minnesota, among the more regional locales. Several folks who were there were first-time reunion attendees. Some said they hadn't come in the past because high school had not been a particularly positive experience for them--they had felt a little picked upon. However, they were almost unanimously glad they had come,saying that everyone seemed different--that they had had conversations with people that wouldn't have associated with them (or vice versa) 30 years ago.

Next time, I think we'll try to go more casual. Maybe we won't wait 5 years. A "we're turning 50" party seems in order for 2010. In the meantime, I can help plan my oldest son's wedding that is on the calendar for next June.


Saturday, August 16, 2008

A taste of fall is in the air!

Today was Media Day for the Bedford Kicking Mules football program. Freshmen started at the crack of dawn. Well, ok, it was at 8 am, but they had to be there by 7:30 and I was up later than anticipated last night, helping to assemble the programs for today's festivities.

We couldn't have asked for a nicer day! The morning started out nice and crisp, and while it warmed up, the temperature on the field was still comfortable for the boys. The atmosphere was upbeat as well. The varsity kids spent the earlier part of the week together at "camp," and it was obvious that they have bonded. They were very much a team rather than a group of individual football players. Success has eluded the varsity for, oh, the past 60 years or so. Here's hoping that this group of kids can start the turn around point, and that the next 60 years will be as successful for the football program as the wrestling program has been.

The freshman and JV teams also looked good. It's clear that the off-season conditioning has been a bonus. It will be fun to watch both of these teams this year.

Marching band gave us a bit of a preview as well. They played the fight song up and down the sideline just after the varsity finished their scrimmage. The absolute highlight of the day came when all of the varsity players sang the BHS fight song. "Cheer Cheer for old Bedford High..." Learning this was part of the program up at "camp" this week--Coach Wood insisted that they know it. They sang without hesitation and fairly well in tune. Somehow, it was very touching--and very cool.

Two weeks til the first game. Good luck boys! We're all proud of you.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Turning into whom? or what?

I need to thank my old friend Mike for this post topic. He started a comment chain on my grammar police post from a few weeks ago, and rather than continuing that thread, I thought I'd bring the topic upfront. Let me digress a bit though. Mike and I went to grade school (k-8) together in Detroit. He was my main academic rival for 9 years, and I think we're both better people because we had a constant challenge to be the best. We haven't seen each other since I moved in 1974, but it's funny how old ties still bind. We now have children of similar ages, and are going through similar experiences... and that's where I will begin the topic at hand.

Our previous thread started delving into the murky area of communicating with teenagers, specifically, communicating with 14 year olds. With Matt at that age, this is the third time I've navigated this channel, but it really doesn't get any easier. Mike mentioned that he has turned into a cross between his dad and Red Forman from That 70's Show. I'm just not seeing Mike as Red, but I thoroughly understand the sentiment.

I don't think I'm turning into my mother, per se. Instead, I think I'm turning into the stereotypical middle-aged mom. I find myself saying things like"I don't need a reason" or "because I said so" or "I'm not your personal ATM," or other equally trite and banal mutterings. Now, my kids are generally pretty even-tempered, and we still actually speak with each other regularly. At times, they'll give me too much information--things I really don't need to know although I'm grateful that they feel we can have discussions at that level.

If you've ever called my cell phone, my ringback tone is Bowling for Soup's song "1985." It was my boys' idea; they say it is sooo ME. They are probably correct, although I don't recall ever wanting to dance on the hood of White Snake's car. To them, I am crazy, eccentric--and in public, thoroughly embarrassing. I tell them it is in the mom's handbook and is payback for every embarrassing moment they provided me before they entered kindergarten. My two youngest boys helped at my class reunion last weekend (more on that when I get time to download my pics!). I think they realized that they have it good (or at least that I'm not an isolated case of crazy).

What typical parental phrases do you find yourself saying even though you SWORE they would never escape your lips?

Monday, August 4, 2008

A great piece of advice

I love my friend Jodi, even though she occasionally sends me emails of doom and gloom (one of which resulted in a broken ankle). We are getting ready to celebrate our 30 year high school reunion. She sent me this last week--I wish I knew who authored it so I could give credit, but it is SO spot on.

"Old Age, I decided, is a gift. I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have always wanted to be.. Oh, not my body! I sometime despair over my body, the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt. And often I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror, but I don't agonize over those things for long.
I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I've aged, I've become more kind to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend. I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled to a treat, to be messy, to be extravagant. I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging. Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 AM and sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60's & 70's, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love ... I will. I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set. They, too, will get old. I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And I eventually remember the important things. Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect. I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver. As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore. I've even earned the right to be wrong."


Thanks Jodi, for once again putting it in perspecitve.