Friday, August 26, 2011

Talk Thursday: Resisting the Urge

My vacation posts have been interrupted by time this timely topic. The afternoon I got back to work I lost my voice. Ergo I’ve spent the last three days resisting the urge, and urging of everyone to talk. Despite the fact they all tell me to rest my voice, at the same time they attempt to drag me into a conversation that requires me to talk.

What’s that all about?

There is nothing funny about a DJ who has lost their voice. Ack! It is hideous. You know how some women will sound sexy when their voice gets husky at the onset of a head cold? Yeah, that last for about six hours and then the whole red runny eyes and nose things kicks in and sexy is long…. Long gone. I don’t have a cold, although there was this sinus thingie back on say Sunday night, but honestly I thought that was the remnants of my physical exhaustion from my vacation. And yes, I will begin that blog, replete with bald eagle pictures after I finish this. I think.

Any as I was saying, I lost my voice, my money maker opted for another week of vacation, but didn’t take the rest of me. So not being able to do my airshifts, or a ton of other things that DJ’s do when we’re not on the air, I stuck to my office and did paper works, CAUGH up on a lot of stuff. And I would answer the phone, “Good afternoon, Coast Radio may I help you?” (in a loud non sexy rasp of a forced whisper) and I would get back a range of replies from, “Does it hurt as bad as it sounds?”, to “Ouch, that hurts”, or “Oh, wow, it is worse than I expected”, to full out laughter. See my life sucked this week. Those who knew I should talk (and kept telling me to rest my voice) kept asking me questions. Those who didn’t want to talk to me laughed. I liked the laughter better.

So now my voice is trying to come back, but sadly I’ve already missed two opportunities perform non-drunken renditions of the Birthday Cake Polka for my sister in law (she got a birthday whisper instead) and oldest daughter, who today got a raspy greeting instead. So I continue to resist the urge to talk, to sing, to cough, though sneezing is a different story. Really I don’t want to make it raspier by coughing so I have taken to sleeping with a throat soother lozenge wedged against the roof of my mouth with my tongue.

The downside – my teeth may be succumbing to acid decade from the lozenge, but I’m not grinding my teeth right now.

Sith,
Cele

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Vacation Pt 1 - Oh the Panic & The Pictures

The joys of vacation,

1) I started out with a panic attack that I wouldn't get to Ducky's 40th class reunion on time. Work was challenging to say the least. I tell people that radio stops for no one, yes I work all three-day-weekends, yes I work Christmas morning, and yes, I voice track Thanksgiving afternoon. This causes a bit of tension but I remind Ducky that I was in radio when he married me, he knew what he was getting. So Friday we have not one, not two, but four events happening at the station.

A) The wrap up to the first of two major summer promotions - The Summer Entertainment Giveaway. A program where we give away thousands of dollars in concert tickets and admission passes. This final drawing means giving away twenty packets, calling the winners, making out the envelops, and mailing a portion of them now.

B) A live remote from the Florence Relay for Life (I worked the board, the news guy did the remote - while I made all those phone calls and did the envelops.)

C) A synchronized fireworks presentation with the Three Rivers Casino, they set off the fireworks, they choose the music, we make sure the music plays as planned. This folks is never an easy task regardless of how easy it should be.

D) The final production and run up for this Friday's Hot 100 Auction. - now you're saying it's this coming Friday what's the deal? 1) I had three small ads to design and place in the paper, (2 ready the huge ad for the paper for next Wednesday (yes tomorrow next Wednesday (as in write up, edit, and all the other stuff that goes with it 3) Place all materials on the website 4) make copies of everything 5) Design and print up gift certificates for all the sales people's items.

Then make it to Ducky's class reunion - 60 miles away - on time. We had a great time, this is the first class reunion he has been to, since we've been together.
I finally got to put face and name to the stories and people I've heard about for the last twenty years. It was awesome.

For my girls let me say that the man to the right is the dad (Rick) in the refridgerator family - Mom (Marla) was taking the picture. The lady to the left of me is Connie, the girl who just about single handedly got Ducky through high school (he denies this, I know it's the truth.) A joyous time was had by all until the end of the evening when we learned one of the girls who'd not made it to the reunion that night had been found unconcious by her sister and rushed to the hospital. The next morning we were told she'd passed away. She'd been suffering from childhood diabetes.

Day One of my vacation - no pictures, I spent six hours at work finishing up what I didn't on Friday for the Hot 100 Auction. Now before you say anything bad, I did get to accomplish something I'd set as a vacation goal. I slept in until almost ten. No, do not bring up the fact that I'd been up until after midnight.

Day Two - no pictures - despite it being a vacation day, I woke up at 5am - who in their right mind wakes at 5am on a vacation day that is not filled with things that need an early rise? Who? Me apparently and it sucked. I drug my ass out of bed at 6, made fresh coffee (because Ducky drags his ass out of bed at 2 and makes coffee which he leaves until he gets back up at whenever. He is a sick sick man) We spent a portion of the morning at my mom's as Ducky mowed her lawns, Mom and I chatted and I was hit with the realization that My Mom (the lady who taught me to be a good steward of the earth - leave things better than the way you found them, don't litter, and all that stuff) doesn't believe there is "Climate Change". No she believes it is natural cycles (let's ignor the brown haze that gunks up the air from LA to beyond Phoenix. That polar ice caps are melting, and polar bears drowning. That Glaciers are melting at an alarming rate to never reappear in our life time.) The remainder of the day was spent wishing I'd been able to sleep past 5am. And answering a billion calls from the Yankee who was having problems editing a show for a client, which eventually drug me down to work for an hour.

Day Three of my Vacation - he comes the pictures. Burp had a mini swim meet. Now you have to understand, he's not on a swim team, he's in pre-team. The next step if I understand is Novice where they learn actual competition style, right now he's learning technique and building endurance. Psam and Burp knew I was coming, but were suprise to be greeted at Willamalane by Ducky, Miseray (who for getting married on Friday was looking rather Zen-like) and the Brit. I got lost. Now who gets lost in Springfield? Me apparently. The meet is done in heats of three or four per event. Each heat awards a blue (1st), red (2nd), and white (3) ribbon. With no apparent regard for starting at the actual start of the heat, with no real focus on the finish line until say it's ten feet away (Burp is too busy paying attention to where everyone else is), and finally to turning at the end of the lane, pausing, then swimming some more
- Burp came way with several first place finishes and two seconds.

One of the boys in Burp's group - Shane - was amazing to watch, I'm not sure how long he's been swimming, much longer than Burp, but he had style, power, and grace for such a young swimmer. A pure joy to watch, I can't wait until Burp swim's like that. Burp is already showing ability, but it's far from being as in tune as Shane, he'll get there if he doesnt' lose interest and he has the right mother to push him. His heat times already show improvement:

Race.....................Last Meet...This Meet
25 Meter Freestyle......28.91.......26.67
25 Meter Backstroke....35.56.......30.06
25 Meter Breaststroke..42.46.......39.4

50 Meter Freestroke...1:08.47......56.65
50 Meter Backstroke...1:25.42....1:08:00
50 Meter Breaststroke.1:32.16....1:24:00

100 Meter Freestroke..2:31.19....2:07:00
100 Meter Backstroke..2:56.95....XXX (didn't race)

Day four of my vacation began with this blog, I hope there is peace, harmony and some beading in this day somewhere. Until then, Ciao, bona futuna.

Sith,
Cele

Sunday, August 14, 2011

Talk Thursday: Garbage – or a whole lot of things that don’t fit together

It’s day two (sort of) of my vacation and at 5am I’m awoke and couldn’t sleep, despite having taken 9mg of melatonin last night. So at 6 this morning I drug my awake head and tired ass out of bed and began my first cup of coffee. Sadly I could have slept in, I wanted to sleep in, but nada. That folks is garbage. Yesterday morning, I slept in until almost 10am and then spent five hours at work.

Friday night we went to Ducky’s fortieth class reunion. I had a great time and despite me just about having to break his arm, I think he enjoyed it too. He’d gone to his tenth, but not the others. After all these years I was able to put faces with stories. After all these years a part of Ducky’s life was there to be touched, people to like, and missing pieces to be put into their places. It was a wonderful evening.

In my youth and early years I embraced change. The reality of me is that I like knowing roots, touching roots, revisiting roots and sadly yes sometimes I miss certain aspects or friends of my youth. In the years between I’ve learned that not you can’t go back, in reality I don’t want to go back, and that just like me people grow and change, but not at the same rate or in the same ways as I. Just a few years out of high school a friend and I met up for an afternoon together, we’d already both been divorced, I had a kid, she was still living the independent reckless abandon of a life we’d had in high school, each had a focus so different and the fit wasn’t the same. I miss her (and several other old friends), but we did not grow “up” together, we just grew apart and she will be a fond memory forever, but we don’t exist any more.

Miseray is getting married Friday to the Brit, after eight years they are doing it. I delight in the soon to be son in law (unlike the Bosox) he is charming, responsible, and touchingly human. He treats Miseray like an intelligent equal, all the while protecting her. I love him and thank God for him nightly. Pictures to come. They’ve been planning and paying for this wedding for close to a year and a half. It’s been a year and a half of battling her mother (whom is the definition of Trout Pout – without the plastic surgery and enhanced lips – really think down gapping mouth with runny lipstick- oh god the horror) who has tried to dominate every aspect of the wedding to her specifications. She did it when the Cat woman got married so it was expected. My contribution to the wedding is standing back and out of the way, to be a support system and give my love, I also made Miseray’s something blue – a blue pearl and opalite anklet and matching bracelet set.

Sunday we are taking Burp on the Rogue River Jet Boats. Years ago (and a different husband) we took Psam on the jet boats, it is one of my very happy memories of her childhood and that marriage. Ducky and I always try to find events to build and create memories for Burp, and of late I’ve been trying to get him to photo blog about various things experiences and events. His birthday is Wednesday so that makes the timing, just right. Tomorrow is his next mini swim meet, my first, I can’t wait. Hopefully, pictures to come.

In the midst of all of this I have been trying to ignore the status and bottom line of my 401K. Growing up my mother use to tell us plan for the future, there won’t be Social Security when you get old. Well SSI has been running in the red for several years and with several years to go until retirement I am glad I heeded her words. Now if congress would get out of politics and get back to the job they are suppose to do we Americans would be able to survive. But instead, they play their partly line politics and throw their constituents under the bus. Social Security is bankrupt and now Congress, with a little help from the inept folks at Standard and Poors, has destroyed the retirements of millions of Americans. Thankfully, my 401K is diversified both domestically and globally and I’ve several years until retirement, but what about those Americans who have been planning, saving, and looking forward to their golden years? They have been fucked by the system, again. Garbage.

Last week, Wienie Rat Face (as Natalie has named him) was sentenced to life in prison for a rash of crimes. Thank you to the jury and judge in Utah for dolling out (for once) an appropriate sentence, Warren Jeffs (aka Wienie Rat Face) will never see the light of free day again. The world should rejoice.

In high school history we are taught that empires rise, get too big (aka a law unto themselves) and then empires fall. Welcome to the fall. America rose from the clay of a new world with new thinking. America prospered. America got to big for it’s own britches. America is a law unto itself and we will fall. We have not learned the lessons of history. We have not honored the intent of our fore fathers. We have not lived up to our potential. America has stepped over the sick, poor, elderly, and down trodden of our country to help up the sick, poor and down trodden of the rest of the world. We have picked up a big stick and yelled in a loud menacing voice, “Not on my watch,” to a world that took with one hand while whispering nasty no no’s and taunting names about us behind the other hand. We will not learn before it is too late. I love my country, but to survive we need to take several steps back, regroup, rethink, and respect. We don’t need to be the world police, we don’t need to be the world bank, we need to take care of our own business.

That being said, Michelle Bachman? Really, what is the world coming too? Rick Perry? Go read Buddhist in the Bible Belt’s blog it was perfection on the subject. I hate the long political seasons and the one ahead of us is going to get ugly. I am sad that Obama refuses to grow a back-bone and stand up for the platform he campaigned on and that Democrats scurry like rats in the face of opposition. I usually vote Democrat although I am an Independent, I rarely vote Republican. Give me something, someone worth putting my vote behind.

Okay, I’m done, for now
Sith,
Cele

Saturday, August 06, 2011

Talk Thursday: Way Safe… or so we think

Sadly, I’m in a blogging funk, what the heck is that all about? No inspiration, even with a topic I’ve no idea what I’m going to write about, nada.

This week I was blessed to meet a friend, a bestest friend, whom I’d never met face to face before. I met Rose through Psam, she’d joined Rose’s online poetry group in a now defunct universe of chat rooms. I love poetry, in the past twelve years I’ve written well over one hundred poems, started a going nowhere book, and then began blogging – and I met Rose.

Psam has long since moved on from poetry, but our small group of three (sometimes four or even a short lived newbie) continue to met on Friday evenings in my chatroom. As in Talk Thursday we have a weekly topic (sometimes that topic hangs on for a month – okay for a while we didn’t have topics) we chat for an hour or so and then we post for critiques and just the pleasure of seeing what everyone wrote. I write rhythmic (oft times metered) poetry, but when I write from anger or sorrow my poetry will move into an asymmetrical structure or free verse. Writing free verse really screws with my metered poetic voice and I will have to go read the entire Austin library to get it back, if that doesn’t work I move to Tolkien.

Psam writes dark poetry, Rose on the other hand was strictly rhymed poetry until earlier this year when both her husband and daughter died (thirty days apart), it was a very dark winter for Rose. She is now finding her free form voice.

Over the years Rose and I have shared the ups and downs of our lives. It’s not always rosy, we once didn’t speak to each other for more than six months, over faults on both sides of the argument, it was a very sad six months of my life. This week she became a physical person in my real life and the grin couldn’t, wouldn’t go away. She is the sister of my soul, a safe place when words need to spill out. She is my friend, she is so very much what I expected and totally different than what I thought she’d be (if that makes sense.) She is more like me than I would have ever believed. And she likes my poetry.

Everyone , okay a lot of people both questioned us meeting someone, in my home, who I didn’t know. But in truth there was no risk in this meeting, I’ve known her for so very long. It’s like when I met Sid, he’s the brother of my soul. Rose is the sister of my soul. I am blessed with my friends.

Sith,
Cele