Happy Birthday to The Great Bird

 

 

It can’t be a surprise to anyone at this point that my love for television is a life-long affair.  Obviously, I can’t remember the very first program I ever watched as a child, or maybe even the first one I loved.  But I can remember the first one that really spoke to me and stayed with me long after the final credits rolled.

There was a time in my life before Star Trek, but not much time, and once the show took hold of my heart, it never let go.  And I have Gene Roddenberry to thank for that.

Like most people, Roddenberry had weaknesses, and parts of his life that shouldn’t be celebrated, but none of that can change the fact that he created a part of our culture that moved beyond mere entertainment and actually managed to change the world.

There are scientists practicing today because they were inspired by Star Trek.  Artists who followed their passion to write, direct, or design graphics because they hoped to work on something as lasting as Star Trek.  And there are everyday people—like me—who believe that the future that awaits us is a good one, because our world view has been formed in a very foundational way by Star Trek and the way it can be.

Today (well, as so often, I’m writing past the midnight hour, so technically yesterday), Gene Roddenberry would have been 93 years old.  In his early Trek days, he had picked up the nickname of “Great Bird of the Galaxy”.  According to the Trek mythology, the coming of the Great Bird was a wonderful event, signifying great prosperity and blessings for the planet he chose.  I’m pretty sure Roddenberry actually brought that kind of blessing to this planet, but I’m certain that, at the very least, he and his vision were blessings to me. 

Snapshot Sunday, August 17

 

The makings of a good birthday?  (Or a good any day, really.)  Good times with the one you love, and surrounded by the beauty of nature.  Couldn’t ask for more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                      

A Blessed Moment

 

As I’ve said before, August 16 is always a melancholy day for me.  As the anniversary of my mom’s passing, I always have a lot of things on my mind, and on my heart.  The past couple of years, I’ve tried to busy myself with fun times and then only have the date to deal with after the fact.  And it was working pretty well today .  . .until it wasn’t.

Brian and I spent a couple of days in Eureka Springs, AR this weekend, and one of the things on my “visit” list was Thorncrown Chapel.  It looked really pretty in the pictures, and I wanted to see for myself.

Turns out, it is really pretty.  And more than that, it’s one of those places that I think Mama would’ve really enjoyed.  Those are the kind of fleeting thoughts that come to me more days than not—“Mama would like that”, or “I wish Mama could see this”. 

Like me, my mother was more spiritual than truly religious, but I know she would’ve appreciated the artistry of a church that would allow you to commune with nature while worshipping. But in that place, it seemed I was hit with that idea more strongly than usual, and it was almost like I could feel her there with me.   Of course, when the moment passed, I missed her all over again, but I wouldn’t trade that moment of connection.  And, besides, I know she’s always here with me, no matter where I am.

Acting Out Optimism (In the Wake of Depression)

 

The passing of Robin Williams is weighing heavily on my heart.  I feel the need to write about what I’m feeling, but the truth is, I haven’t entirely sorted it out yet.  Strange, I know, to be so strongly impacted by the death of someone I’ve never met; maybe someday I’ll be able to sort that out, too.

In the meantime, because he is on my mind, and because he leaves behind a body of work that will entertain us for years to come, I’ll share a post from a couple of years ago:

“Comedy is acting out optimism.”~ Robin Williams

One of the few downsides of summertime is that most television programs are in their off-season with no new episodes airing.  For a TV-aholic like myself, that can be kind of a downer.  But because I am a die-hard TV-aholic, I’m certainly not opposed to watching re-runs, even if I’ve seen them many times before.

So it was that tonight I was scanning through the channels and found a couple of episodes of Mork & Mindy airing.  Brian wasn’t too thrilled with the choice, but watching that old goofiness is how we spent an hour of our evening.  When Mork & Mindy was in first run, you couldn’t keep me away, even in the final season or two when it became a pale imitation of what it had been originally.  And, sadly, the episodes tonight were some of their later shows. (Yet one more example of the pitfalls of putting the two main characters together romantically.) I watched anyway.

And besides being mildly amused by the show—and very amused by the 80s fashions—I was once again struck by my admiration for Robin Williams.  Truly, the man is a comic genius—a wonder to behold.  I know a lot of folks will say that he’s just a drugged-up comedian, and no doubt some of his hilarity was drug-induced along the way.  I’m glad he’s gotten himself free of those addictions, and still find him to be as talented as before.

So, I thought I’d share some moments from Mr. Williams with all of you, so that you may also be reminded of his talent, or maybe even witness some of it for the first time.  Pick one and see what you think.  Better yet, watch them all and see some of the many facets of his talent.  Enjoy.

(In the intervening years, it seems that many of the original links have been shut down due to copyright claims.  I hope that this was done long ago, and not studio executives now hoping to cash in on Mr. Williams’ untimely passing, but there are still representative samples available.)

 

              

   Some may not remember, but Mork’s original appearance was in an episode of Happy Days.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  Mork & Mindy—how it began

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   The movie as a whole—and certainly this scene—is more drama than comedy.  But I think Patch Adams is some of Williams’ finest work.

 

 

 

 

 

 

   I’ve been watching Disney movies all my life, and Aladdin is still my favorite.

 

 

 

 

 

 

   Inside the Actor’s Studio is often interesting to me, but with Robin Williams, it’s more performance than interview.

An Unexpected Goodbye

 

In honor of the man who made so many laugh, I wish I could say something witty. 

In recognition of the pain the man suffered, I wish I could say something healing.

In tribute to the man’s great talent, I wish I could say something profound.

But I can say none of that, for my heart aches.

 

When it’s Time to Change

 

Having suffered through several years of hanging on to a job once the joy and satisfaction had gone, I know what it feels like when it’s time to start considering a change.  And I know that it begins with the small feelings of dread that settle into the pit of your stomach on Sunday evenings.  The part that’s not as clear is how to balance out the fact that there are still good parts to a bad situation, and how to know precisely when it’s time to stop considering a change and start making a change.  And, of course, history is not in my favor, since I stuck it out too long last time, leading to a really bad ending.  Only time will tell if I have learned anything from my past mistakes. 

Throwback Thursday, July 31

 

A while back, my brother-in-law posted on Facebook about a fun way to waste a few hours (like anyone needs help finding that online, right?)  Anyway, he shared a site called The Nostalgia Machine, which really will suck you right into some kind of time warp.  It’s a nice collection of popular music, organized by year, so you can take a trip back to your childhood, or street cruising days, or just last year to the song that kept you bopping during your morning commute. 

The site isn’t anything fancy, just a bunch of links to YouTube music, but that’s okay, because it’s still fun to just hop around and relive the sounds.  Though, I think it’s just one more indication of my advancing age that I know more of the songs the further back the years go.

Which brings us to today’s selection—a song from the year of my birth.  I’ve always liked this song, though it certainly has a bit of melancholy to go along with its mildly peppy chorus.  (And, if the rumors are true, and it’s really a disguised drug anthem, well, I was far too young to recognize the possibility when I first grew to love the song, and now I just refuse to accept it.)

Enjoy this song, then pop on over to the site, and enjoy a whole bunch more.  Go on; it’s fun.

Farewell, James Garner

 

 

 This past weekend, the acting community lost another great one. 

  James Garner played a variety of roles during his career—moving easily from television to film and back again as time rolled along—but this picture shows him in my favorite role, that of Jim Rockford.  That cheeky grin and his sardonic attitude entertained me for a long time.

  At some point during my childhood, spurred on by my enjoyment of the Rockford Files, I started watching Maverick reruns, and found yet another reason to enjoy Garner’s work. 

Like many people, I was drawn in by Garner’s easy charm.  He wasn’t your typical leading man, smooth and polished, but he definitely still had rugged good looks and that elusive “star quality”.  For myself, it probably didn’t hurt that I always thought he looked a lot like my daddy.  I mean, not “looked like” in the sense that people confused my dad for Garner or anything, just that they shared a similar stature and had that same sort of outdoorsy, man’s man type of a persona.

And, to top it all off, he’s from my home town.  Garner hailed from my very own Norman, OK, and like most people, I really enjoy seeing a hometown boy make good, even if that good got made long before I was alive.  It’s like sharing a little something with a stranger you’ll never meet, and it’s kind of cool.  A few years ago, the town put up a statue honoring Garner and his iconic Maverick character; since his passing, its turned into something of a shrine. 

 

It’s a nice tribute to the man, a way of showing that his hometown still loves him, that we’re grateful for what he gave us, and that his talent will be missed.

Say Hello to the World, Again

 

How about a quick stroll through Tube Day Tuesday this evening?  Really quick, though, because it’s been insinuated that I might have to give up my grown-up card if I speak too loudly about enjoying this particular program.

And what kind of a program might bring such shaming?  One of the latest offerings on the Disney Channel, Girl Meets World.  It’s only aired two episodes to date, and I can certainly admit that it skews pretty young, and there are some definite over-the-top characterizations.  But, its predecessor, Boy Meets World, started out pretty young, too.  And even though it aired during the 90s—otherwise known as the decade of my 30s—I really enjoyed watching it grow up.

Following the story of young Cory Matthews and his friends, it was definitely a “family” show—meaning that it was truly geared toward the younger members of the family—but it was funny, endearing, touching, and very often, real.  I liked Cory and his gang, and I liked seeing them grow up together, particularly Cory and his girlfriend, Topanga.  They had the sort of honest and committed relationship that many adults can’t manage, much less high school kids (or younger).

But Boy went off the air back in 2000, having seen the kids live and love, laugh and cry, and ultimately grow up, move from grade school all the way to college, get married, and move away to start their adult lives.  The show really did mature as it moved along, tackling some tougher subjects and letting the characters be real people, even as it stayed primarily a light-hearted comedy.  It seems I’m not the only one who misses it.

Now, more than ten years later, the new show picks up with Cory and Topanga still happily married and raising a family of their own.  The focus this time around is their daughter, Riley, and her best friend, Maya.  As in Boy, the Matthews child is the more grounded of the two, with the best friend around to pull Riley out of her comfort zone and into trouble.  But it’s all in good fun. 

As I mentioned, I think the first couple of episodes are not indicative of where I hope the show ends up.  It’s been a little uneven, and sometimes it feels forced—both the laughs and the emotions.  But I’m pretty sure if I went back and watched the first few episodes of Cory and Co., I’d find pretty much the same sort of thing, and look how well that turned out.

So, even if it is a Disney show that people poke fun of me for watching, and even if it does seem a little too cutesy and childish right now, I’m still going to keep watching.  Maybe it will grow up as well as its parent show, and maybe it won’t, but either way, I think there are worse things than to try to create a show that focuses on the importance of having family and friends around as you learn to navigate the world around you.  Regardless of age, we should all be so lucky. 

Twenty Eight Years and Counting

 

 

Like most little girls (or maybe just most girls), I had an dream of how married life would be and exactly what the “perfect husband” would be.  And, like many dreams, it turned out to be a lot different from reality.

But part of growing up is realizing that even though reality might not have a lot of similarities to dreams, it can still be just as good.  For instance, in my dreams, I wouldn’t have imagined an anniversary celebration consisting of lazing around, having a nice, leisurely lunch just talking to each other, and trying to map out the beginnings of a retirement strategy.  And if I had imagined it, I think I might’ve thought it was more nightmare than dream.  But you know what?  I would’ve been wrong.

After spending close to three decades living with someone day after day—and all of the challenges that come with that—there’s a feeling of contentment and belonging that comes from still enjoying a day just hanging out together, and a feeling of safety that comes from realizing that both of you still think it’s going to last for the rest of your lives.  If that’s not the stuff that dreams are made of, I’m not sure what is.

Ties that Bind

 

I’ve been thinking a lot about family lately.  Or, more accurately, what makes family.  There’s biology, of course, or sometimes legal unions.  But that makes relatives, which is not necessarily the same thing.

And, as I most always do, when I dwell too long on the topic of family, I also begin to dwell on my mom, and how much I really wish she was still around.  In this particular instance, because I think there are still some lessons I need her to teach me. 

She was one of those people who could make family out of anybody; she had a way of cultivating genuine love and concern for people, and people returned that affection.  But she also had a way of making actual family feel like it was important to belong to that select group—knowing that there was always a safe haven in any sort of storm, and being grateful for that sort of security.

Now it seems maybe I took that too much for granted; maybe I didn’t realize that those sorts of feelings don’t happen naturally, that they have to be coaxed and tended and cherished.  But, having realized that, I fear that it may be too late, that maybe I didn’t recognize it soon enough, and some relationships are already lost.  Or, maybe sometimes “family” is only one way; that’s possible, even if it’s not ideal.  I’m not sure, and I’ll probably never be sure, not entirely.  All I know for certain is that family matters to me, and you can bet I’ll be thinking even more, trying to figure out what it might take to make it important to others.

Six Word Fellowship

 

PTK sisters hanging out at Universal.

TBT

 

Once a week social media gets inundated with postings tagged with #tbt.  It’s Throwback Thursday, where people take a stroll down a photographic memory lane.  I have yet to dig out any of my own pictures from back in the day, but I like to see the ones my friends post; they make me smile.

I still didn’t find any pictures this week, but the hashtag did get my memory to wandering, probably heightened by an upcoming holiday family gathering.  And mostly what my memories tell me is that I really miss the good ol’ days.  My son will almost certainly skip the gathering, as he has grown distant from the family.  And, of course, my granny won’t be there, and I find that’s hitting me a little bit harder than I would’ve expected. 

It occurs to me today that the union of my personal Venn diagram of perfect holidays—those that I can spend with my mother, grandmother, sister, and son—is very small, and it’s never going to get any bigger. It also occurs to me that a couple of weeks of just not feeling well has  put me in a fairly melancholy mood, and this sadness that I feel is exaggerated.  But that doesn’t change the fact that I am sad, and I really do miss the times that seemed simpler, happier.  And while a silly little hashtag topic is probably not intended to bring about such gloominess, I think there’s little doubt that a yearning for simpler times is what brought about the theme to begin with, and keeps person after person posting photos from decades ago.  Which, of course, leads to the inevitable question:  will these days ever be considered the good ol’ days for some future generation.  It seems almost impossible, but the photos we take this weekend may someday be our children’s #tbt.

The Day

 

It’s been fifty-five years since the plane crash that took the lives of Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and “The Big Bopper” Richardson, which was four years before I was born.  I always think it’s just a little bit strange, the way the pop culture icon types live on forever.  I grew up listening to the music of my mom’s generation, so I knew the giants hits of these men.  Plus, back then, you could still find them on the radio.  Not that you can’t still, but these days it’s only on the oldies channels.

But then, within my lifetime, Dan McLean went and wrote himself an anthem abut these people who died years before I was even born.  I don’t know for sure, but I think it’s possible that I didn’t even really know they has passed until the song—and until I bothered to figure out what it was about, of course.

Anyway, I think it’s cool the way celebrities achieve that sort of immortality, leaving behind a piece of themselves in the thing that they loved to do, but I do still think it’s sort of strange, the way subsequent generations might know their work and still assign life to them. 

And, I wonder how it is for the family.  Do they enjoy surfing the radio dial and hearing their husband/son/father suddenly booming from the speakers?  Or is it a sudden onslaught of pain all over again?  Or, as I suspect, is it really a combination of the two, never knowing how the memory might make them feel on any given day?  I know for myself, when unexpected thoughts of those I’ve lost come crashing into my consciousness, sometimes it brings a smile, and sometimes I am brought to totally unexpected tears.  I’d assume it’s the same for the family of celebrity, only for them, that unexpected thought might be triggered at any time when faced with the work of their loved one. 

And the other thing family and friends of the rich and famous have to deal with is the very public recognition of each anniversary of their loss.  As I’ve mentioned before, those anniversaries are difficult for me, and that’s without having my own loved ones’ date of death plastered all over Google and listings of significant dates in history.  I really can’t imagine how that must feel. 

So, today, while I can recognize the talent lost so quickly all those years ago, and while I can mourn that loss of potential, it’s really the surviving family and friends who are most on my mind.  I thank them for being willing to share their loved ones with the rest of us, and I hope that they find more joy than pain in their memories.

 

  And speaking of that anthem, here’s a live version.  I’m something of a purist, so I’d generally prefer to hear the recorded version I’ve known forever, but it’s good to mix things up now and again.  And, besides, I really do love this song.

The Times, Are They a Changin’?

 

I oscillate back and forth when trying to decide if I actually grew up in a more innocent time, or if the world now is just so much better connected and reported—I’m pretty sure there are no true secrets these days—that everything seems more tainted than it really is.

And why do I wonder this today?  Because Justin Bieber has been arrested for drunk driving.  And Miley Cyrus is . . . well, honestly, I don’t know what she is.  The word lost comes to mind.  And they’re far from the only teen idols making headlines for things having nothing to do with their particular talents.

Of course, these idols aren’t exactly teens anymore (well, technically Bieber is, but not for much longer), but they are the people our teens look up to, and I have to wonder sometimes if this is really the best we can do these days.  But that’s when I start wondering about earlier days.

I grew up with Donny Osmond, David Cassidy, and Michael Jackson, among others.  While I can’t really recall any scandal surrounding Osmond (though that doesn’t mean there wasn’t), Cassidy certainly dealt with his own demons, and we all know what happened to MJ.  And I’m sure there were others of the day who had their own issues, too. 

But back in my day, if you wanted to read about these heartthrobs, you had to shell out for a copy of Tiger Beat, or something.  You couldn’t just turn on the TV and let the 24 hour news channel fill you in on their troubles, and there was no internet to both glorify and vilify the behavior.  So the problems still seemed to be there, but without so much of a spotlight.

Which, of course, makes me wonder about other aspects of life.  I never heard of a school shooting in my youth, but there were groups of people openly called “hoods”, and, in retrospect, I guess I’d be surprised if at least one or two of those hoods wasn’t armed with something more than a bad attitude and a sneer. 

As for drugs and/or alcohol, I’ve always been with the goody two-shoes crowd, but even I knew which kids I could reach out to if I wanted to partake.  The substances that are readily available might have changed some, but my guess is they’re not any easier to come by than they’ve always been.

And, in terms of bullying, we didn’t talk about it so much back when I was a kid, but it certainly still existed.  In a way, it may have even been more common, since there was a definite attitude of “kids will be kids”, rather than understanding the harm that was being done.

So, was the world a kinder, gentler place in generations past?  I’m still not sure.  Maybe.  Or maybe it was just a little more relaxed, things happening in just a little bit of slow motion compared to today.  Or maybe it’s just a nostalgic haze that makes the old days seem different even when they were exactly the same.  Either way, I’m pretty sure that every generation of fifty year olds have looked at the antics of the current crop of teen idols and wondered exactly when the world became such a crazy place, so in that regard, I guess things really do remain the same.

Snapshot Sunday, January 19

 

They say pictures tell a story, but today, let me tell you a story about some pictures.

First, a little background.  For our vacation, I rented a Hero GoPro.  I’ve always thought they were pretty cool cameras, but I couldn’t really justify spending a few hundred dollars on yet another piece of photography equipment.  But they’re small, and come in a waterproof case, so having one on a vacation where we might be on beaches and in water seemed like a neat idea.  As it turned out, one of the main activities where I had hoped to put it to use got cancelled because of weather, but it could still come in handy at other times. 

One of those times was a tour while in Belize, when we drove out to visit a site of Mayan ruins at Altun Ha.  Like every other day of our vacation, it was raining during our visit to the site, so we took a few pics with our regular cameras, but eventually pulled out the GoPro to snap a few others once the rain really started coming down.  One of the downsides of the small camera, though, is that it has no view finder, so there’s no way to really frame your photos—you just sort of aim and hope.  And, of course, they’re really created for extreme sport type usages, so for the most part, they’re attached somewhere to sort of capture whatever the user is seeing from a unique POV; just holding them and kind of looking around isn’t really the best use of the technology.  Here’s an idea of what I mean:

There’s nothing particularly wrong with this photo, but it might have looked a little different had I been able to see what I was actually shooting.  But, this picture does give us a starting point for the actual story . . . See that temple in the background, the taller structure?  It’s just over fifty feet high, which doesn’t really look all that high from the ground, especially since they’ve put a hand rail along the steps, so it seemed like it would be pretty simple to get to the top.  I thought that even though I’m pretty much a baby when it comes to heights; I really thought it would be okay.

However, the steps themselves were pretty deep, making for a more difficult climb than I had anticipated, giving me crucial additional seconds to think about how much higher up we were getting with every passing step.  So, when we got to a landing not too far from the top, I thought that might be a fine stopping point for me, and I’d leave Brian to go on up to the top and take a look around.  So, I waited in an out of the way tiny corner and sent Brian up top with the GoPro to snap a few photos so I could at least see the view after the fact.

But, a lot of plans didn’t work out on this trip, and this was one of them.  A tour guide came by while I was waiting and asked if I needed help with the camera backpack I was holding (no need for Brian to lug it to the top when he was only going to be using the tiny waterproof camera).  When I explained I was just waiting, he explained that the stair traffic was one-way, and I was going to have to go to the top in order to get to the downward steps on the other side.  Well, hell.

So, long story short, I trudged up the last few stairs, stood very briefly in the very center of the temple and looked around (can’t get too close to the edge, you know), then proceeded to have a small panic attack before I could bring myself to step off to the first stair and then climb down.  For the record, sometimes living with a phobia really sucks.

I can’t say that stands as one of the high points of the vacation, but it does have a rather amusing ending.  Later, when I pulled the memory card out of the GoPro to see what the terrifying vista looked like when not in a state of panic, I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.  Remember, I’d sent Brian on the photo assignment with a rented camera with no viewfinder, so I guess I can’t entirely blame him for what happened, but when I opened the files, this is a sampling of what I saw:

I can’t deny I was initially disappointed with these results. And, besides being just a little bit angry with him—who can’t recognize the lens of a camera, even when it’s brand new and encased in a plastic box?—I was also annoyed with myself.  After all, if I hadn’t had a melt down, I would’ve been in charge of the pictures myself, so there’s really no one else to blame.  But, I saved all the pictures because I knew someday they would make me laugh.  And I was right.  They may not be the scenery I had hoped to capture from that afternoon, but I’m pretty sure a quick Google search can show me the view.  (Sure enough, though I’m more intrigued with how someone managed to capture a photo with no people in it!):

                                                                    This photo of Altun Ha Ruins is courtesy of TripAdvisor


But, Brian’s pictures are more than scenery, they’re a memory, which is the whole point of taking pictures in the first place, right?  And, of course, they’re a story.

Making Another Run

 

My husband and I spent last week on a Caribbean cruise in celebration of my recent paralegal degree completion.  It was nice to get away, and spend some uninterrupted time together, though everything didn’t really go as planned, primarily because it rained just about every single day.  Still, I’m well aware that a complaint regarding the weather on a cruise vacation falls squarely into the domain of First World Problems, and it’s not really what I want to chat about today, anyway. 

But, because of the uncooperative weather, we spent more time than anticipated sitting in our stateroom staring at a television screen.  You’d think this might not be much of a problem for such a self-professed TV junkie as myself, but even I have my limits.  And, besides, as you can imagine, live television broadcasts are a pretty rare commodity in the middle of the ocean, or even the gulf.  But you know what could be found on television every single day?  The Love Boat. 

   

Of course, we were sailing Princess Cruises, so The Love Boat is really just a glorified commercial, but I have to admit there was something a little surreal watching the old episodes while gazing out the balcony door to the rolling waves. 

And, as I was watching, I was thinking about a couple of things.  First, of course, was that I always liked the show.  Sure, it was cheesy and trite, but I’m pretty sure that was it’s primary charm.  There might be shows like that today, but any that exist are firmly locked into the half-hour sitcom format; nowadays you don’t find networks devoting an hour of airtime to cheesy, feel good programming.  No, hour long programming blocks are reserved for drama, and the grittier, the better.  That’s not exactly a complaint.  I’ve said many times that I’d take an average drama over a good comedy just about any day of the week, but that doesn’t mean I don’t recognize that our television seems to have lost some of its innocence, and its fun.

I was also thinking about how they say The Love Boat sort of launched the cruising industry into the success that it is today, and I was wondering if that’s really true.  I mean, it’s certainly what made me first think that I’d like to take a cruise someday, but I was a young teenager at the time; what did I know about world travel?  And many years went by in my adult life before I took my first cruise, but I don’t remember spending those years thinking, “I’d sure like to sail on a ship like the Pacific Princess.”  On the other hand, back in those days, I didn’t know anyone who’d taken a cruise; now I know lots of people who have.  There’s no doubt that cruising is a much larger industry than it was back in the days of Captain Stubing and the crew, but who knows if the show really played a part in its growth?

But, they say countless people have been found to pursue careers in various sciences because of Star Trek, forensics because of CSI.  If people can build their entire life around something on a television program, it doesn’t seem all that farfetched that some would plan a vacation because of it.  In fact, I’m pretty sure the Travel Channel counts on it.

But, whether The Love Boat actually launched a thousand ships (or even a hundred), it was still a fun and relaxing way to spend an hour, with people who laughed a lot, and always had things worked out by the end of the voyage; that’s definitely a voyage worth remembering.

Christmas 2013

 

Like yesterday, the normal daily topic will be suspended in honor of the holiday.  Besides, who wants to talk about weight loss on a day filled with eating yummy, yummy food?!

The best part of any holiday is always just the gathering together, and today was no exception.  Of course, there were plenty of moments when Granny crossed my mind, and it sort of didn’t seem exactly like Christmas without her, but I hope she was somewhere with my mom, seeing us all together, and knowing they left behind a strong family. 

But, all in all, it was a good day, with everyone getting along, lots of laughter, and, as I said, some yummy food.  Then Brian and I finished it off with Love Actually, one of my favorite Christmas movies. 

Really, it was the best kind of holiday, and I hope yours was the same.

Quiet Tradition

 

Tube Day Tuesday is taking a little break today, in honor of the holiday.  Not that there was no television today—there are few days like that for me!  Brian had a movie channel on for a while, though I wasn’t paying much attention to that, but after dinner we did watch It’s a Wonderful Life.  I mean, it’s tradition.  Really, I ought to get myself a copy of the thing, because I’d prefer to watch it commercial free, but you have to watch it, even if it means putting up with some ads.

But now, it’s time for my other tradition, sitting in the dark, only the glow of the Christmas tree lights (well, and for right now, the laptop), listening to the holiday music channel.  I’ll sit here quietly for just a while, then I’m going to stretch out on the couch and sleep in the glow of that magical light.  I can’t go to bed just yet because I’ve got to get up again in about four hours and put the potatoes on to cook, and I don’t want to disturb Brian in the middle of the night.  Then I’ll crawl into bed for just a couple more hours sleep before it’s time to get up for real and start getting everything ready for the day.

One tradition that won’t happen this year is eating cinnamon rolls and opening presents with Billy on Christmas morning.  This will be the first year he hasn’t lived at home for the holiday, and he’s opted to not come until the afternoon with the rest of the family.  I’m kind of sad about that, but I’m trying not to be selfish.  I know he’s a grown man now, but that doesn’t keep me from wishing our traditions were as important to him as they are to me.

But, I’m not going to let that disappointment keep me from enjoying my own tradition right now.  I’m going to soak up the peace of the season for just a short while, and I hope you have a moment or two to do that, too.

Thanksgiving 2013

 

 

 

 

 

 

Image courtesy of debspoons at

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It’s been a long day.  The alarm went off only about half an hour later than any other day of the week, and still slightly before the sun came up.  But sometimes—a lot of times, really—good times require some effort.  And today was good times.  The family was here for lunch and we visited and laughed and ate a whole bunch of food.  I’m thankful that we have the opportunity.

And, as I spent my first Thanksgiving without Granny, I realized how fortunate I was to have her for as many as I did.  At my office, three of us have lost our grandmothers in the past few months, and I am by far the oldest of the trio; I know that I had a gift many, many people do not.  And while Billy may never have gotten to know my mother, he was blessed to grow up with a great-grandmother who adored him.  Today I am particularly grateful for that.

Honestly, as I sit here, tired, full, and reflecting on a good day and a good life, I am simply grateful.