Red Wine Wednesdays

This summer I decided to take Wednesdays off to spend some time with the kids.  Each year seems to pass faster than the last, and before I know it (to be cliche) they'll be 'all grown up.' I figure I'll never get this summer back, so I might as well make the best of it.  Coincidentally, one of my good friends, who has a kid the around the same age as my girls, also recently cleared up her schedule on Wednesdays. When talking over our plans for the summer we agreed that we should hang out together more often and soon after we came up with the idea of "Red Wine Wednesdays." Essentially this is what happens on Red Wine Wednesdays (RWW):

Step 1: Take the kids somewhere to do something fun.
Step 2: Come back to her/my house and drink wine.

There are many benefits to the RWW program.. First, we get to spend time with the kids and feel like productive moms.  Second, the kids get to spend time with each other and expand socially.  Third, my friend and I get to explore new wines and engage in meaningful conversation. Its really a win-win.

As far as selecting the wine goes, there are two guidelines; It must be red.  It should cost at least 8 bucks a bottle. Now that you know the way it works, here is the first weeks review...

Red Wine Wednesday #1: Snapping Turtle Merlot

For our first Wednesday we decided to take the kids to Pecos Park for water play. Soon enough it will be too hot to be outside no matter how much water is involved, so this was the perfect activity for a late May day.  As we arrived at the park neither my friend nor I seemed to notice that none of the kids were playing in the water.  We walked up to the 'start button' and pressed it about ten times before someone hollered from afar, "It doesn't work.  They're gonna try to fix it by this weekend." I suggested we start a riot.  My friend suggested we go back to her house and spray the kids with the hose.  Better judgement prevailed and we headed to her place.  It's really a crap shoot when the number of kids is odd, but this week they got a long really well, which was refreshing. 

As for the wine...

The selection for week 1 was Snapping Turtle Merlot. As she popped the cork and began to pour, my friend owned up to the fact that she didn't follow the '8 bucks and up' guideline.  This particular bottle only set her back a 5 spot.  My mouth said, "It's cool," but I must confess that a small part of my brain was thinking pessimistic thoughts. First sip, and....."Not bad."  Nothing about this wine stood out as particularly fantastic, but at the same time nothing stood out as particularly awful.  It was completely pallet-able with an absence of remark-ability.  Sometimes in life it's okay to ride the current of mediocrity and that is precisely what this wine does. The conversation that went with the wine, however, was extraordinary.

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A Life Cut Short

This blog was supposed to be about my personal mission statement from 10+ years ago.  I was supposed compare and contrast the feelings and views I have now with the things I wrote down and committed to over a decade ago. I was planning to write that blog tonight, but as it happens, life sometimes throws curve balls. All at once the most relevant topic can be thrust upon us, regardless of our ability to bear the weight of its burden. Fortunately for me, the burden of this topic is not so large that it will intimately and permanently affect my life. Unfortunately in this case, I cannot say the same for all to whom this curve ball was thrown.

Last week my neighbor died. He suffered an allergic reaction to a common over the counter medication and he died. His ability to breathe was taken and kept forever by an effervescent tablet in a half a glass of water. He was 38 years old and in otherwise good health. He left behind a wife and three daughters; the epitome of tragedy. I learned the news from his 13 year old daughter two days after his passing and my body still freezes when I replay the memory in my head. On Monday afternoon, she was hovering around my drive way and as I pulled up with my window down she said she had something to tell me.  "Sure hon, lemme just pull in the garage." I turned off the radio then engine, and hopped out expecting her to tell me about a new boyfriend or some other random junior high school drama. Instead she informed me that her father had passed away. I stood there in shock for a moment (mouth hanging open, eyebrows in a frown) then snapped out of it and instinctively wrapped my arms around her.  She told me the details of the story with amazing composure, and in return I did my best impersonation of a grown up and assured her that everything was going to be okay. Later that evening the girl rang the doorbell and let us know the funeral would be on Friday. I told her the truth this time and said I would be there.

Friday came and I went to the funeral as I said I would. Much to my surprise, our 7 year old daughter wanted to come with me. I explained what the funeral would be like and asked if she was sure she wanted to go.  She said she was sure because she never went to a funeral before and she was curious about what it's like. I decided that the experience would be good for her in the long run even if it upset her a little bit in the short run. After all, death is the only certainty in life.

We arrived at the funeral home 15 minutes early and the parking lot was packed.  Every single space was taken.  As I drove laps around the building trying to find a non existent empty space, it was impossible to ignore the growing crowd of gatherers.  Figuring that the odds of getting a parking ticket at a funeral are pretty slim, I parallel parked in a drive way area that was not intended for such a purpose.

"Okay kiddo.  You ready for this?"

"Uh huh."

"If you get too upset and you want to leave, just let me know and we can go."

"Okay mommy."

We held hands, crossed the parking lot and headed into the chapel. Weaving in and out of my neighbors friends and family we found a seat on the end of a pew about mid way through the room. The rest of our pew and all of the others in the chapel filled up quickly, and before long it was standing room only. The ceremony was nice.  It was a full Catholic mass given by a Deacon who was very down to earth in the delivery of his message.  Keira sat still through most of it which came as a surprise. Neither she nor I cried, and halfway through the mass, this fact began to bother me.  Why didn't I cry? Could I cry if I wanted to? Sure I could, right? Right? For the remainder of the mass, my answer was 'no.'  Then came the 'post mass personal remarks,'  and just like that, my ocular flood gates were open and the question became, "How do I stop crying?"  One by one my neighbors family and friends came to the microphone to share their grief.  Some could only say two words, while others told lengthy anecdotes. The best friend who broke the news to my neighbor's parents, the brother who didn't spend enough time with him, the sister whose spirits were constantly lifted by him, the daughters who will never dance with him; for all of them I shed a tear.

Between the 6th and 7th speaker Keira was getting bored and antsy so we decided to go.  On the way out (as we made our way through the overflow crowd in the lobby) we stopped at the guestbook to leave a future reminder of our support. There was a single pen on the table and a memory book that was filled with names.  All of the lines on the present page were taken, so I flipped forward a few pages to try to find an empty page. Flip...full.  Flip...full. Flip...full. I flipped backwards hoping someone may have skipped a line.  Flip...full. Flip...full.  Flip...full. As a last resort I decided I would just write our names in the margin.  I grabbed the pen and began to write, only to find that the ink inside had run out. I smiled, put the pen back down and glanced once more at the various faces around the overcrowded chapel.  Is there no greater testament to the impact of a life then an absence of empty lines and pen that has run out if ink?

As we pushed through the double doors and headed back to the car, I wished I knew my neighbor better.

Rest in Peace Andres Hidalgo
1973-2012
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From the Vault: 2001 Personal Mission Statement

When I was in college over a decade ago (gag, nearly vomit, gag) I took a class in which we had to create a personal mission statement. The the purpose of the assignment was to get us to commit to concrete goals and objectives from which to base our lives.  Here is my "2001 Personal Mission Statement" in its entirety:

My core purpose in life is to build a pleasant living environment for myself and others through positive interaction whenever possible.


I will keep things in perspective and understand that everything is relative.  Often times the things that cause the most stress in life become insignificant when the big picture is brought into focus.


I will never stop laughing.  In my life humor is directly related to my happiness.  I will always try to find humor in even the worst situations, for a life without laughter is hardly worth living at all.

I will take responsibility for my actions.  I will not blame others for my shortcomings or mistakes.  Before looking for an outside explanation for sub-optimal performance I will first thoroughly examine myself.

I will never be jealous of others, as jealousy is the most insecure emotion.  I will be secure with myself and confident in my abilities as a capable individual.


I will understand and respect diversity in people.  I know that everyone will not always see things the same way I do, and I will accept these differences as part of life.


I will not complain when things become difficult for me.  I know that no matter what the circumstances of my situation, somewhere along the line I always had a choice.


I will not waste my time wondering about what could have been.  I will accept the outcome of my past decisions and take comfort in knowing that when I made the decision, the path I chose felt right at the time.


I will remain active in athletics.  Whether it be in an organized league or messing around with some friends, sports provide me with the exercise and social activity needed to maintain a balanced life.


I will keep an open mind when dealing with people or ideas unfamiliar to me. Ignorance is not really bliss, but rather a precursor of intellectual retardation.


I will never stop learning. I will continue to expand my knowledge and intellect by listening to, and learning from the experience of others.


I will never stop teaching.  Just as I will learn from others, I will share with them my own experiences in the hopes that the learning may be reciprocal.


I will get married and together with my husband build a stable ans secure base from which to build a family.


I will have children and shower them with love and affection I will teach them things like humility, integrity, and personal responsibility.  I will give them guidance, but I will not use them as a tool through which to correct my own failures.

I will...

Over the next few blogs I plan to take apart my 2001 mission statement and analyze my progress in 'sticking to it.' I'm excited to see how 10 years of experiences has impacted my thoughts on each of these points.  Stay tuned...

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Playlists and Purpose

Ahhh, playlists....where do I begin? I love playlists because they are made of one of my favorite things in the world - music!  I love music.  I don't mean that I love every kind of music, but I love the general idea of music.  In the book of life, the chapter called "Music" is the amazing place where people induce feelings and share ideas through a combination of melody and lyrics. Sad songs, happy songs, dance songs, songs to pump up the crowd, songs to honor our country. I think its pretty safe to say there is at least one song out there for anything and everything you could possible imagine.  Just for fun, here are a few from my personal collection:


Song to 'Drink Wine and Reflect' to: Orange Sky by Alexi Murdoch

Song to 'Day Dream About Possibilities' to: For Me This is Heaven by Jimmy Eat World

Song to 'Stroll in the Park' to: Modern Nature by Sondre Lerche

Song to 'Dance Like a Maniac/Sing into a Hairbrush' to: Gonna Get Over You by Sara Bareilles

Song to 'Take Over the World' to: Spectrum by Florence and the Machine
 

Songs by themselves are cool, but songs added to other songs to make a playlist are better. The songs in a playlist help to create the mood and flow to the party or gathering during which they are played. On more than one occasion, I've spent an excessive amount of time creating a 'perfect playlist' for an upcoming event. The perfect playlist usually consists of 3 elements; current hits, classic hits, and a sprinkled in theme that I chose based on the type of gathering and the demographic of the attendees. For example, if the parents are coming over for a weekend BBQ, the sprinkle theme is 50s and 60s pop music. For kickball game nights, the sprinkle theme is 90s nostalgic rap. After I have selected all of the songs for my playlist I spend more time then I'm willing to admit re-arranging the songs to establish an appropriate playlist 'flow.'

While I do spend quite a bit of time making multi-hour playlists for parties and big events, I also like to create quick 30-45 minute playlists for daily activities like working out or cleaning the house. These playlists don't require too much thought, just a quick scroll through my iTunes library as I impulsively drag over whatever jumps out and grabs me.

Somebody who is married to me that shall remain nameless does not share my passion for 'the play list.' He says, "Life doesn't need a soundtrack." I say, "It may not need a soundtrack, but sure is better with a soundtrack." Ultimately, music enhances purpose. I can think of no funner (not a word) example of music played with a purpose than the late 1989 standoff between American troops and General Manuel Noriega.  The specifics of Noriega's life aren't important for purpose of this blog. You only need to know that he was a bad dude. A drug dealing gangster who stole elections, exiled enemies and oppressed his own people. He was on the US shit list for quite some time, and as the situation escalated in December of 1989, twenty four thousand American troops were sent into Panama to go after the a-hole. Realizing his back was against the wall, he turned to religion.  Well, by "turned to religion" I mean he ran and hid in the Vatican embassy in Panama City. Oddly enough, when the troops went up and rang the bell, Noriega didn't come out to play. In an creative attempt to get Noriega to give himself up, the Americans turned giant speakers toward the residence and tried to blast him out. At first they played newscasts, but soon after, they opened up the request lines. On December 25th they took a break from the requests to blast 24 hrs of Christmas music.  After that it was 4 more days of requests followed by Top 40 countdowns from the Billboard Top 100, Black 100 and Country 100 charts. After 10 days total, Vatican officials convinced Noriega to give himself up.  Now that's a playlist with a purpose!

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Don't Get on that Bus

I recently found out about something called Hangover Heaven. Perhaps you've heard about it on the news, but in case you haven't, Hangover Heaven is a big tour bus that cruises around Las Vegas offering help for hangovers. Actually it offers more than help, it offers a cure. For the low low price of ninety dollars you can rid yourself of a hangover by having a 45 minute treatment during which IV fluids are pumped through your system.  For an additional sixty dollars they'll even add anti nausea and anti inflammatory meds to the IV line. When I first heard about this concept, I wasn't sure how to react. After some careful thought, however, I've decided that I hate it. Emphatically. A hangover is a disease unworthy of a cure. Alzheimer's deserves a cure. Cancer deserves a cure. Feeling like shit because you drank more alcohol than your body can process deserves nothing more than itself. The real cure for a hangover is responsibility. Have fun, but handle yourself. Know your limits.  Test them if you want to, but when you unsuccessfully exceed them (as most of us have at one time or another), don't look for some magic bus to bail your pounding head, puking guts, sorry ass out.

I think the hangover bus bothers me the most because on a larger scale, it represents all that is wrong with our society today. We want all of the pleasure but none of the pain. Immediate rewards with very little sacrifice; weight loss pills instead of working out, energy drinks instead of going to bed on time, earn at home 'diploma mill' degrees instead of grueling academic programs with rigorous curricula.  The solutions to your problems are easy, all you need is money to buy the answers.  What? You don't have money? No sweat! Just put it on your credit card.  Get a student loan. Get a second mortgage. Take what you want, you deserve it. Except you don't, and neither do I. It's all about choices. Acknowledge the impracticality of your 'wants,' and live within your means. Commit to 'the long road,' and accept the consequences of your actions. The future of our nation depends on this. Finally, if you just can't manage to refrain from that 'last call' shot of tequilla, puke all over the bathrooms at the Bellagio if you have to, but please for the sake of society, don't get on that bus!

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