My good friend and co-worker Shirtless Wonder has broken out of his blogging cocoon and posted TWICE over the weekend.
If he keeps it up, I might even list him on my sidebar column Sites of Interest . . . so there is some incentive for him.
Let's all root for him to continue. We need even more voices in the blog-o-verse.
You can access his site with this link.
Over twenty-one (!?!) years of obviousness and nonsense.
Monday, May 09, 2005
Sunday, May 08, 2005
The Mother's Day entry
Today is the day that Hallmark tells us to say hello to Mom, to stop and say thanks for all the hard work, all the advice, all the guidance; thanks for all the late nights cleaning up after us when we were sick; thanks for driving us here and there.
My mom did all of those things.
But all day I have been trying to think of special moments between me and Mom.
One of the first was when I was approximately 8. I came home from school and discovered that Mom had restyled her hair that day while I was gone. Her hair was permed up and distinctly different than what it had previously been. I reacted with something like horror and broke down crying right there in the kitchen. Why? I really don't remember, but I would like to officially apologize for my crass behavior.
Another memory I have is one summer day when I guess I was around 8 or 10. I was upset that day about having to wear my imobilizer orthopedic devices on my legs. (They kept my knees straight, giving me a slightly Frankensteinish walk; they were all straps and looked kind of like the outfit that Mila Jovovich work throughout most of The Fifth Element.) But, I was in a bad mood about wearing these things and was being generally hard on myself, working on a very good persecution complex. Mom was very patient (moreso that I might be with my kids, sometimes) and talked me calmly through my anger and frustration. I don't really remember a lot of what she said, but I know it helped me feel better that day.
I remember Mom fixing hot bowls of chili on Friday nights in the fall, after a football game at the high school. Even though the chili had spaghetti in it, it warmed me up. I remember the many birthday cakes (and sometimes--by request birthday pies) that she made for me each year. For some reason I have a very clear memory right now of a white-frosted cake with a clown face as decoration. I believe that year my party was held at Fulwood Park.
I remember once on a Saturday morning when I wanted to fix myself an omelet. Mom showed me how to get the eggs started in the pan while I cut onions, green peppers, shredded some cheese. I sprinkled all of those ingredients in the pan and tried to flip the eggs over to create that omelet shape. However, I had overloaded the pan with too many ingredients and rushed the flipping before the eggs had set in the middle. I asked Mom for help and I guess she forgot what I had been trying to do, because she scrambled it all up before realizing that it was originally supposed to be an omelet. She was very sorry; I thought it was funny, and it tasted just as good in the end.
I thought of Mom today while in church. The choir was singing a song that probably was on the O Brother Where Art Thou soundtrack (or should have been). But one member of the choir, a lady in her forties or fifties was bouncing on her heels, swaying in time with the music, clearly enjoying her role in singing that song. I can think of many times I have seen my Mom do the same thing, bouncing in time with the music, singing along, being deeply affected by song. Much of my faith and religion come from her dedication to God, to our hometown church, to the ideals of Christianity.
There are many more memories of Mom that I won't be able to remember right now, but will occur to me before the day is over. Mom is one of the most important women in my life and the one woman who is most responsible for me being the person that I am today.
My mom did all of those things.
But all day I have been trying to think of special moments between me and Mom.
One of the first was when I was approximately 8. I came home from school and discovered that Mom had restyled her hair that day while I was gone. Her hair was permed up and distinctly different than what it had previously been. I reacted with something like horror and broke down crying right there in the kitchen. Why? I really don't remember, but I would like to officially apologize for my crass behavior.
Another memory I have is one summer day when I guess I was around 8 or 10. I was upset that day about having to wear my imobilizer orthopedic devices on my legs. (They kept my knees straight, giving me a slightly Frankensteinish walk; they were all straps and looked kind of like the outfit that Mila Jovovich work throughout most of The Fifth Element.) But, I was in a bad mood about wearing these things and was being generally hard on myself, working on a very good persecution complex. Mom was very patient (moreso that I might be with my kids, sometimes) and talked me calmly through my anger and frustration. I don't really remember a lot of what she said, but I know it helped me feel better that day.
I remember Mom fixing hot bowls of chili on Friday nights in the fall, after a football game at the high school. Even though the chili had spaghetti in it, it warmed me up. I remember the many birthday cakes (and sometimes--by request birthday pies) that she made for me each year. For some reason I have a very clear memory right now of a white-frosted cake with a clown face as decoration. I believe that year my party was held at Fulwood Park.
I remember once on a Saturday morning when I wanted to fix myself an omelet. Mom showed me how to get the eggs started in the pan while I cut onions, green peppers, shredded some cheese. I sprinkled all of those ingredients in the pan and tried to flip the eggs over to create that omelet shape. However, I had overloaded the pan with too many ingredients and rushed the flipping before the eggs had set in the middle. I asked Mom for help and I guess she forgot what I had been trying to do, because she scrambled it all up before realizing that it was originally supposed to be an omelet. She was very sorry; I thought it was funny, and it tasted just as good in the end.
I thought of Mom today while in church. The choir was singing a song that probably was on the O Brother Where Art Thou soundtrack (or should have been). But one member of the choir, a lady in her forties or fifties was bouncing on her heels, swaying in time with the music, clearly enjoying her role in singing that song. I can think of many times I have seen my Mom do the same thing, bouncing in time with the music, singing along, being deeply affected by song. Much of my faith and religion come from her dedication to God, to our hometown church, to the ideals of Christianity.
There are many more memories of Mom that I won't be able to remember right now, but will occur to me before the day is over. Mom is one of the most important women in my life and the one woman who is most responsible for me being the person that I am today.
So, thanks for everything Mom--for all your advice, for being who you are and letting me be who I am, for all the love to me, to my two girls. I appreciate you more than these words can adequately say.
Thursday, May 05, 2005
FLW follow up
A few days ago I posted about my encounter with a local neighborhood influenced by Frank Lloyd Wright.
Tegan's dad read and sent me an email alerting me to another interesting bit of information about Wright; he designed the Community Christian Church in Kansas City, Missouri for this Disciples of Christ group in 1940 after their previous structure had burned down. (Tegan's dad is a Disciples minister.)
As usual, Wright had to struggle to convince the locals that his design would work--and famous egotist that he was, he was convinced that he was absolutely right and they were simply unable to see his vision accurately. Both sides were likely right to some degree.
Anyway, you can read more of the history of this church via this link.
Tegan's dad read and sent me an email alerting me to another interesting bit of information about Wright; he designed the Community Christian Church in Kansas City, Missouri for this Disciples of Christ group in 1940 after their previous structure had burned down. (Tegan's dad is a Disciples minister.)
As usual, Wright had to struggle to convince the locals that his design would work--and famous egotist that he was, he was convinced that he was absolutely right and they were simply unable to see his vision accurately. Both sides were likely right to some degree.
Anyway, you can read more of the history of this church via this link.
Huge, nerdy, and imprecise. (But this is not about me . . .)
Paul Boutin from Slate.com has written an interesting thought piece on the on-line (and community-edited) encyclopedia known as Wikipedia. You can read the article by clicking on this post's title.
Since I recently posted my own thoughts on the merits of the film The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, I thought I would provide this article as well.
Since I recently posted my own thoughts on the merits of the film The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, I thought I would provide this article as well.
Sunday, May 01, 2005
Walking in the woods with Mr. Wright
Last night Tegan and I took the girls to a couple that we are friends with. They have children almost identical to our own--two boys. We had some hamburgers, talked for a while and then decided to take a walk in their neighborhood to a local elementary school so the kids could play on the playground.
On the way home, the couple informed us that there are several paths through the woods that surround this school and that there is a small, secluded group of houses that were designed by a student of Frank Lloyd Wright.
Ever since I went on a high school science trip to Pennsylvania (when I was 17) I have been a FLW fan. I have read some books, seen some documentaries. I am no scholar certainly, but I really like Wright's design style. It is distinctive, tied to nature, in-your-face.
When we were walking through the pathways between the houses I could tell immediately that these houses were inspired by Wright directly. One of them had the same cantilevered, flattened look as Fallingwater, the house I visited on the science trip in Pennsylvania--the house that introduced me to Wright's architecture. Other houses in the neighborhood has other distinctive touches--all glass corner windows, a careful effort to surround the houses by nature and make the house inhabit the woods rather than force the woods to surround the house.
I have visited another Wright house, the Dana-Thomas house in Springfield, Illinois. Tegan and I visited it while spending a weekend with an old college friend the first summer that we moved to Ohio. I have always wanted to go and see more Wright houses, which are scattered around the country. The most famous building of his, outside of Fallingwater must be the Guggenheim Museum in New York, which I have never seen.
I really enjoyed that small little trip into the woods of central Ohio, unexpectedly touched by Wright. I hear that the homes host a brief tour once a year, so I will definitely try to find out when that is and take advantage.
On the way home, the couple informed us that there are several paths through the woods that surround this school and that there is a small, secluded group of houses that were designed by a student of Frank Lloyd Wright.
*****
Ever since I went on a high school science trip to Pennsylvania (when I was 17) I have been a FLW fan. I have read some books, seen some documentaries. I am no scholar certainly, but I really like Wright's design style. It is distinctive, tied to nature, in-your-face.
When we were walking through the pathways between the houses I could tell immediately that these houses were inspired by Wright directly. One of them had the same cantilevered, flattened look as Fallingwater, the house I visited on the science trip in Pennsylvania--the house that introduced me to Wright's architecture. Other houses in the neighborhood has other distinctive touches--all glass corner windows, a careful effort to surround the houses by nature and make the house inhabit the woods rather than force the woods to surround the house.
I have visited another Wright house, the Dana-Thomas house in Springfield, Illinois. Tegan and I visited it while spending a weekend with an old college friend the first summer that we moved to Ohio. I have always wanted to go and see more Wright houses, which are scattered around the country. The most famous building of his, outside of Fallingwater must be the Guggenheim Museum in New York, which I have never seen.
I really enjoyed that small little trip into the woods of central Ohio, unexpectedly touched by Wright. I hear that the homes host a brief tour once a year, so I will definitely try to find out when that is and take advantage.
*****
In other news, I can cross two more items off of my list of 101 things to do in 1001 days. Say goodbye to #s 8 and 63.
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