Truly Random

I attended the All-County Honor Band performance tonight.

While it is a fact that I am a cultural giant and am well versed in when to applaud politely and when to stare coldly at the Philistine who breaks into clapping during the intermezzo, I generally only attend these events by invitation.

In this case, the invitation was from my niece and her family and was greatly appreciated. After all, their family has certainlly attended their share of MY kid's performances and turnabout is more than fair play, it is totally just.

The kids and their instruments had TWO whole days to pull the music together, not including the private time with chapped lips at home.

The end result was astonishing. Now, I am totally going to tell you that I have seldom heard a better performance. You have every right to disagree. But I tell you that the emotion and fervor of the musicians was indeed an attribution to how they perform 'when they are at home' in their various band programs across the county.

The guest conductor made a profound statement by saying that in our world there is a lot wrong with kids today but that the ones there in that concert were NOT part of what was wrong.

And he was absolutely right.

Those kids took what they could do and together magnified it into a wonderful evening of music that speaks volumes of who they are when the spotlight isn't shining on them. It also says a great deal about their choices to rehearse when their friends may have been encouraging them to make other choices entirely.

So to the people in the Honor Band, I salute you and congratulate you on your accomplishments as individuals and a group...

And on a personal note to my niece, YOU ROCK!!!

YARD SALE

Is there anything more sacred than the annual days of yard sales that spring into being on the first warm weekend of March every year?

Well, maybe sacred isn't the word, but they certainly can try the patience of a saint as you try to organize, prepare, plan, and, above all else PRAY, PRAY, PRAY!!

Each time we forge into the brave new world of yard sale bliss, I am reminded that just because I think something to be worthwhile and/or valuable doesn't mean that anyone else will.

And, conversely, those things which I believe are near the end of the spectrum of worthlessness seem to be the things that are sold the fasted and I am left to mourn that I didn't have more of that particular selection of flotsam and jetsom that has brought so much joy to people I have never met before.

While I do get a few 'regulars' from the neighborhood around me, I tend to mostly have a fine assortment of walk-ins and drive by's that the Lord directs to my house. LITERALLY.

I am allowed to announce my endeavors on the local AM radio station (WKAC 1080 AM) for FREE just so long as I am able to get in on the phone lines and make my announcement. The spot for one of the coveted 'hear my own redneck, country-fried diction' keeps the radio station's switchboard lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree.

I'm glad Beth didn't hear my announcements on the station. She laughed out loud when she heard my native speech thicken into a heavy drawl as I worked with my customers. So, had she heard me on the radio, she might have required a stretcher to carry her away from laughing herself to death.

Hmmmm, I guess that makes me a lifesaver since she was spared that little foray into broadcast insanity.

The Lord blessed us mightly in our sales. And I have indeed thanked Him and will continue to thank Heavenly Father for all of his help. I have no doubt that He directed people to my door not only to shop but to declare from many different mouths that they had been looking for 'one of these' for a long time.

My son will appreciate their contributions to his mission fund. And I DO plan to tell how this miracle of funding all worked out. After my nap.

Three straight days of sales has left me sore, stiff and with a back pain that reminds me that my younger days truly are over as far as heavy lifting goes.

I wonder if I have enough stuff to do this all over again in a couple of weeks?

ESPN

I could be an addict.

But we simply can't afford the money associated with what would most certainly become a controlling habit that would suck the life out of my datebook for outside activity and instead replace it with Cheetos eating, blanket wearing, bloodshot eyed sports fanatacism.

It wasn't meant to be.

We are among those who have our needs met and most of our wants, but sometimes you just have to draw the line regarding what is appropriate expenditure and what is money that can be best spent elsewhere.

So, we don't have ESPN.

Alas, although we can get ESPN 360 on the computer thanks to our internet provider, the tiny little broadcasts are BEHIND the time of the television broadcast just enough to have some tenderly considerate person call and tell me what happened before I get to see it. Grrr.

Of course, in this day and age of telethons for various causes and little jars next to cash registers all over the land, perhaps there is a way to feed my sports mania without breaking OUR budget to do it . . . "SUPPORT ATHLETICS" the jar would say, carefully omitting what version of support was being offered. I might make enough for the monthly bill . . .

No, no, no! That would be fraud, wouldn't it? Or would it?

OOOPS!

Sorry, the very thought of instant score updates and 24 hour news on my teams' standings made me temporarily morally bankrupt.

Oh, well.

I guess I am back to what the father of a guy my sister used to date used to announce at the end of every football game at Hartselle High School. "If you can't be an athlete, be an athletic supporter."

He honestly had NO CLUE why everyone in the stands was falling all over themselves laughing. Until his son Rusty informed him. But that didn't stop him from saying it. Once he knew what people were thinking, the crude old country boy in him figured that if they didn't know that he knew what he was saying, they would just think he was a dumb hick.

But the slick veneer of professional broadcasting got wiped away tonight at the Georgia Dome and revealed the ESPN sports guys for what they really are.

Some inclement weather moved into the metro Fulton County area and caused a bit of disturbance at the Dome. Lights flickered, overhead light and camera scaffolding began to rock and the fabric of the dome rippled like window sheers in a strong breeze. A tornado passed perilously close to the game and the previously erudite announcers became Bubba and Earl at the trailer park telling the world about how a sound "like a freight train came right over our heads".

Oh my goodness!

The truth is that in a crisis we are all little country folk who can't articulate our thoughts in complete sentences and who, for all of our fancy eddicashun, cain't strang togetha a whole thought without soundin' like we do our wash over'n at the Washerteria or the Wash-n-Gossip.

After all, them high fallutin' dee-plomers don't mean nothin' when an F-3 is a'comin' right fer ya.

Now I know that everyone is more 'little bit country' than they are 'little bit rock-n-roll'.

We want to be a finery and slipcovers, but the reality is that we are more crocheted doilies and drinking from a mason jar. But that's okay.

I fully expect ESPN to show up and cover the "Southern Olympics" this summer in Georgia. Mac Davis needs the publicity and the world needs a good laugh. But what we really need is an alternative to the glossy version of sports as the corporate talking heads want to present it.

We need more "Golden Flake Potato Chip Football Show" and less Sportschannel. And who wouldn't enjoy seeing a broadcast of Hunting and Fishing by Donnie Mack (who really HAS a show locally). He even fell out of his own boat on one show. It was hilarious!

And can you imagine the redneck broadcast of the Olympic Games from "Chiner"?

The color commentary would be straight out of Steel Magnolias!

Y'all go on home and practice tossin' your toilet seat for the horseshoes event, y'hear? We might be filming in your town real soon. . .

Homemaking, purses and cake

So, I go tonight and discover two very important things at the meeting tonight.

Number one, my purse contains WAY TOO MUCH JUNK and number two, cake is more of a weakness that I would like to admit.

We had a fun night tonight but I sometimes go home feeling disconnected from the reality that the other women face on a daily basis. Has it really become so easy to be cocooned in MY world that I have forgotten that there are other people and other needs?

I used to be more involved but I have come to realize that part of my so called involvement was propping up people who didn't really want to participate at all.

Talk about junk in your purse!

Where do we draw the line between helping someone along and nurturing them through a hard time and simply dragging them around like dead weight in our purse because we don't want to hurt their feelings when it's time to say goodbye? Is is possible that some of that is more than an act of simple self preservation and is instead the kindest thing we can do for someone else to cut them loose? I read somewhere "Sometimes the best helping hand we can give is a firm push."

I truly believe that, otherwise I'd probably still be living at home and letting my parents take care of me forever.

Let's just postulate a thought here: could it be possible that when we carry people along in a sympathetic vein we are simply preventing the growth that SHOULD happen because we are worried about hurting them and ironically enough, they ARE hurt by the fact that they are crippled by our 'care'.

It's a hard decision to make.

We can't just stand by and hope for the best without being active participants and players in our own lives! It just doesn't work that way. For better or worse, we have to make choices and skin our knees and do unpleasant stuff to get to all of the goodies that are truly wonderful.

Sort of a right of passage gig.

But back to the purses. If I carry all of someone elses collected junk for them in MY purse, how can I find MY stuff when I need it? The same is true of our lives. If we carry around someone else's life for them, we have little strength left for our own.

I don't believe in 'tough love'. But I do believe that sometimes if you truly love someone, you have to tell them the truth and say, "I have carried you as far along the path as I am willing to do. Now, you either have to walk on your own, or wait for someone else to pick you up."

I know it works because a woman whom I used to visit teach and give rides to all over creation is now coming to church. I have to believe part of it is because I finally told the people who 'assigned me' to take care of her that I was DONE.

Now, they come because they want to.

They are finally carrying their OWN purse.

Maybe that is the reason that we should carry a purse. They are all different because they reflect who we are, but they hold our collective junk for whenever we need it. They need to be large enough to serve, but small enough to prevent voluntary slavery to someone who won't carry their own load.

Just ramblings of an almighty disturbed mind . . .