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Sunday, January 16, 2011

(Part 1) The Final Leftovers...

...of the Carolina snowfall are slowly disappearing.  Puddles have formed in the low spots while the last of the white patches trickle and fade into but a memory.  It's the stuff of stories.


The whole event has reminded me of a childhood "snow story", taking me all the way back to about 1978 or so.  The upstate of SC had gotten a pretty good snowfall that early January, but despite that Mom and Dad were intent on loading up the burgundy LTD for a trip to Spartanburg to visit the great-grandparents (I had 2 complete sets of greats until I was 8).  I was personally very excited, not so much to hang with the old folks that day, but because I had an acquaintance who lived next to Grandma Harris.  And who knows what kind of loot he had gotten for Christmas.  His name was Timmy.

Timmy was about my age and someone that I occasionally hung out with when visiting Grandma Harris.  He was a weird kid with crooked teeth and a bad haircut, but it beat sitting on the living room floor listening to the old folks talk about taxes, arthritis and the downfall of humanity as evidenced by Threes Company.  Little did I know as I stepped out of the warmth of Dad's giant car and onto the crunchy white of Grandma's driveway, that on that very day I would make history- as the most insanely accurate snowball thrower that Timmy (or anyone else in Spartanburg, SC) had ever seen.  Or ever would again.

To be continued...

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Wishing You All...

...a happy and fulfilled life, at 1:11 PM, 1/11/11.  Now ain't that neat?  :-)

Saturday, January 8, 2011

"Hey, Babe, What Did You Do WithThe Camera?", I Asked.

"What makes you think I did anything with the camera?  I think you had it last", she says.

"No I didn't.  Maybe it's at your Mom's house.  You know how cluttered it is there", I said.

"If it was at my Mom's house we would not have been able to download the snow pictures.  Think back to when you last had it", she says, in a manner which I view as quite condescending.

"Well, I am thinking of where I last had it, which is why I am certain you had it last, smarty pants."

(Pause)  "Alan, did you leave it in the outside pocket of the cooler, which is where I last saw you with it?  Hmmmm?"

(Longer pause)  "I suppose that's possible", I say.

Upon my return, I took this picture.  I hate it when she's right...and she's always right.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

I struggle...

...from time to time with low self-esteem.  Everyone does I suppose, some more than others.  Am I really good enough to be a part of this group?  Do I deserve to have someone special in my life?  Does God really love me unconditionally?  When is the other shoe going to drop?  These are all legitimate questions.  And they are also questions asked by someone struggling with their own personal value- struggling I suppose with a sense of worth.

Some people have to really work hard at keeping their ego in check.  They are by circumstance, by upbringing or just quite naturally- arrogant.  Pride is their downfall and many battle hard to remain humble.  I recall a time, I was around 15 or 16, when I went to a local family reunion with my parents.  The reunion was attended by distant cousins, I guess, and I knew from the beginning of the event that they were not "my kind of people".  Some were in straw cowboy hats of all things, big shiny belt buckles and dusty boots.  Some men wore overalls, the women had their hair in buns and wore big flowered-print polyester dresses.  They were poorly educated and obviously people of humble means.

I remember clearly, at some point, turning to my dad and saying something like, "We're related to these yahoos?  Has anybody hauled granny and the rocker down from Uncle Jed's truck, yet?"  I will never forget his response.  He looked me square in the eye and said, "These are relatives of yours who make an honest days pay with an honest day's work.  They are poor but good people.  You have no right to look down upon them."  Wow.  That exchange rocked me-  I was ashamed and humbled- and I deserved every bit of it.  On the surface, that wake up call from my dad may not seem a very significant exchange, but for whatever reason that single event transformed the way I looked at people then and today.

Yes, Jesus was very clear on the subject.  It's the meek (the humble, gentle and kind) that will inherit the kingdom of God.  But stop for a moment and think of the far end of that spectrum.  Think beyond meekness or humility.  There are people, me and you at times, who are paralyzed by fear of failure.  Low self-esteem and self-doubt are as big a hindrance in serving God (and others) as is pride or egotism. They are two polar ends of a scale that serve to isolate you and keep you from your full potential as a person- and your full potential as a representative of Christ.  Pride is destructive, but a lack of faith or confidence in your own God given abilities will have the same outcome when you are allowed an opportunity to serve.  And we all are called to serve.

Meek, humble yes.  But frozen by your own fear of failure or perceived lack of unworthiness misses the mark. And perhaps it even misses the mark with a similar outcome as looking down upon others of lesser means or a different upbringing- your relatives or not. 

    Tuesday, January 4, 2011

    Happy Birthday, George...

    I wanted to give a big shout-out to my pal, George who turned 43 yesterday.  This marks the official entry into his mid-forties, though unofficially he has been an old man trapped in a younger body for 20 years.

    Also, he and his family are soon to occupy their new home where he will be known as the old guy who occasionally goes on his front porch in his boxers and wife-beater-T, yelling, "You kids get out of my yard".



    Happy B-Day wishes, Dook.

    Saturday, January 1, 2011

    Quote from my oldest daughter, today...

    Dad, 2010 seems like only yesterday.  (smile)

    Tuesday, December 28, 2010

    I'm Dreaming, Of A White Christmas

    And a white Christmas is just what we got in Florence, SC, though technically fully fallen and enjoyed the day after.  Here, Jenna and Meredith have put the finishing touches on a snowman, all with the approval of Daisy, looking on.

    Saturday, December 25, 2010

    Perhaps My Favorite Christmas, around 1982

    And so my love of the synthesizer began.  I played this with my pal George until it fell apart and then I spent every penny I had saved for a Korg keyboard.  I still occasionally play on a Korg when not at my baby grand.  However, I now much prefer the feel and sound of actual hammered strings to the digitally sampled sounds of... well, hammered strings.

    Friday, December 24, 2010

    I Love Everything...

    ...about Christmas.  Part of the reason is that everything about the season brings back fantastic memories for me.  Memories of visiting my great-grandparents in Spartanburg, SC.  I had two complete sets of great-grandparents until I was 10 years old.  Memories of favorite Christmas meals and beautiful Christmas music. (Do you hear what I hear?)  The smell of baking cookies and hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows.  Riding around in the family LTD looking at manger scenes and light displays in front yards, some of them pretty remarkable.  Christmas movies with the family.  The thrill of going to bed a tad early on Christmas Eve, awaiting a visit by the jolly fat man.

    Today and tomorrow I continue to build memories with my own children.  I-Carly is having a very special "seasons greetings" episode on the upstairs TV.  The kids will need to help us clean the house and straighten up for family visits tonight.  They can also help me finish picking up a few last minute items for their Mom and the dog needs her teeth brushed (her breath could knock you over).  While I'm at it I'll fuss at them for not cleaning their rooms.  Merry Christmas, Bedford Falls!

    Could it be that the good memories override the cruddy ones- the downside of Christmases-past forgotten or repressed.  For my kids sake, I hope so.  Even as I sit here trying to write them down, good Christmas memories seem to flow pretty easily while the bad ones seem a bit more distant.  And with time, maybe the bad ones are gone altogether; who knows.  Maybe that's a Christmas gift in and of itself.
        

    Sunday, December 12, 2010

    Happy Birthday Leah!


    I'm proud of my baby sister and wanted to celebrate her birthday (December 12, 1974) with a handful of memories in the form of grainy family snapshots.  
    Leah with my mom, Janelle, after her adoption from Vietnam.  She was on one of the last US planes out of that war-torn country, shortly before the April 1975 fall of Saigon- now Ho Chi Minh City.  She was 4 months old when she joined our family in SC.  My parents worked with an agency called Friends of Children of Vietnam.  Read more of "operation babylift" here.
     My brother Scott and I loved our baby sister, though once I remember losing her 20 feet up in a pine tree.  About the time this picture was taken, Scott and I tied an old baby-swing to the top of a sapling, rode it down to the ground and decided to put Leah in it.  Apparently, we didn't understand that her weight was not enough to bring her back down to earth as it had us.  We eventually shimmied up the tree, brought her back down to safety, our parents none-the-wiser.
    I don't recall Leah being an expert at clogging, but I do really love this picture.  Hey Mary Anne, Gilligan would love another coconut cream pie!



    Leah, Colt, Gram and an overly enthusiastic Big Daddy, Thanksgiving 2010.