Feel Good Friday, May 9

What makes me feel good today? Graduation! A fun memory with my school friends and family there to celebrate with me. Yep, that's definitely a feel good moment.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Morning Glory Dr,Norman,United States

Creeping Chaos

 

Image courtesy of Stuart Miles at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I’m kind of a disorganized person.  I’m not bragging about it; that’s just the way it is.  I don’t really like it, but honestly, there’s an awful lot about it that doesn’t bother me too much, either. 

What does bother me, though, is when I’ve reached a breaking point with the chaos and I can’t seem to find a way around it.  For instance, my work is totally disorganized.  You should see my desk.  Though, really, I’d be embarrassed for you to see my desk; it’s that bad.  But we’ve got processes that make too much organization a difficult task, and we’ve got constant emergent issues that could make any sane person go just a little bit bonkers.  But I haven’t yet figured out a way to mold the office into my way of doing things—mostly because I haven’t yet found my way of doing things at this job.  How long does that take, anyway? 

And, you know how it is once chaos starts overrunning you in one aspect of your life:  it snakes its creepy little tentacles into every crevice of your existence.  I’m convinced some sort of chaos overload is why I almost forgot to turn in an assignment today.  Seriously, I did the vast majority of the thing two weeks ago, then almost forgot to put the finishing touches on tonight, and then almost failed to hit the ‘submit’ button when I had to upload the finished product to my professor.  Even as disorganized as I am, I’m not usually that bad.  Wait until the last minute to do things for various and sundry reasons?  Yeah, more often than I should admit.  But just let something so important just slip my mind?  Not usually. 

I’m telling you, it’s the curse of the creeping chaos, and I need a cure.

The Path to the Walk of Fame (Part 2)

 

I’m taking a break from Five Question Friday this week to continue the tale of how it is that Brian Keith came to be immortalized on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.  If you’ve just joined, pop back over to yesterday’s post for part one of the story . . .

So, once we decided we were really going to make the star happen, we had to figure out where to start.  Well, the first thing is that you have to submit an application to the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce folks.  It turns out the nominations are due at the end of May, so we only had a couple of weeks if we wanted to apply that same year.  Our quick research had told us that people rarely (maybe never) get accepted the first time, so we thought we should get something together and toss Brian’s name into the hat as soon as possible.  But before we could do that, we had to gain permission from his family.  One of the things the star committee requires before they will consider anyone for selection on the walk is that the honoree will be willing to attend the ceremony and accept.  In cases of posthumous nomination, like for Brian Keith, it becomes a family obligation, and since we were outsiders, we couldn’t speak for them.  That meant we only had two weeks to not only write and submit a nomination, but also to locate Brian’s widow and get her on board with our fannish obsession.  Fortunately, Victoria Keith was thrilled with the idea, and more than touched that there were still fans so moved by her husband’s work that we would be willing to put in such an effort.  She said yes readily.  Now, I can’t say that the nomination we put together the first time around was particularly spectacular, but we did manage to meet all the requirements and get it in by the deadline; Brian Keith had officially been nominated for a star. We knew then we had passed the point of no return; we couldn’t back out now.

When the selections were announced for 2007, we weren’t surprised not to be chosen, but I can’t deny we weren’t still just a little bit disappointed.  We can be a fanciful group, and the idea of a fan-nominated posthumous star being awarded on the very first nomination would have been a great story.  But the story would have to wait.

But, while we were waiting for that first rejection, we were already getting busy.  We knew we had a lot of money to raise, and we weren’t entirely sure how we were going to make it happen.  We came up with an easy-to-remember acronym, (STAR—Society to Advance Recognition) and then launched a website, explaining our cause and blatantly asking for money.  We looked for for ways to spread the word, and there have been several occasions since all of this happened when I have wished that social media had been such a huge deal back then as it is now.  (And that’s only been 7 years ago, which really puts into perspective just how quickly sites such as Facebook and Twitter have grown, but that’s a whole other story.)

Other than putting together a significantly better application (and we had a year to do that), raising the fee for the star was really the only thing we were focused on.  In addition to seeking direct donations, we were open to just about any other kind of fundraising idea that came our way.  We sold candy, hosted an online auction, set up affiliate accounts, and sold commemorative items through a Café Press shop.    But the largest bulk of our funds came from “fanzines”—compilations of Hardcastle and McCormick fanfic put out on CD—and copies of the series episodes, gathered from various VHS stashes of the fans and transferred to DVD, providing many fans with the first opportunity to see the episodes in years.   Created from the love of fans, these items were offered as tokens of appreciation in exchange for donations (because, you know, actually selling copyrighted material could’ve gotten a little tricky).  There were four of us on the committee, and the STAR campaign and that $15,000 pretty much ruled our lives. 

In the midst of all of the fundraising (and all the fic writing and episode compiling), life sort of turned into this ongoing obsession with watching a bank account grow.  And, I can’t say that we didn’t have some dark moments of doubt that we would ever succeed, and even some moments when we wondered if it was even worth the trouble.  I think most people—and certainly all of us, before this all began—see the Walk of Fame as this amazing honor simply bestowed upon members of the creative community in recognition and appreciation for a body of work.  It was sort of surprising to find that just wasn’t entirely the case.  First, we never realized there was a cost involved, though it makes sense that someone has to pay for all that brass and terrazzo and such.  We also never realized how much politicking goes into the selection process, though I suppose that’s also to be expected when there are hundreds of nominations received but only maybe a couple of dozen stars awarded each year. 

It was not only a daunting process, but from what we as fans knew about Brian’s personality, we were fairly certain that it was not a process of which he would have particularly approved.  Not that he wouldn’t have been grateful that we wanted to recognize his work, of course, but all the rest of it he would likely have considered just so much hoopla, and that time, energy, and money could all have been better spent.  But by then we were getting fairly bonded with Victoria, and she loved the whole idea and couldn’t wait to see Brian honored.  Even in those dark moments when we might have considered it all to just be a waste of time, we couldn’t dream of quitting because we didn’t want to let her down.

Anyway, slowly, surely, that bank account we were so carefully tending did begin to grow, and things were really taking shape.  By February of 2007, we were just about half-way to our fundraising goal when the unthinkable happened:  the fee was increased to $25,000.  Our hearts broke.  We were a small group of dedicated fans trying to pull off a victory worthy of Hollywood, and it felt like we might have just found the insurmountable obstacle.  Even $15K was a lot of money when it was coming in 5, 10, 20 dollars at a time, but twenty-five thousand?  We had another few dark moments.  But then we decided our game plan was working, even if it was working slowly.  We might need to step our efforts into overdrive, but we weren’t giving up. 

Now a full year had gone by, and we’d gotten ourselves into a fairly well-oiled routine, and then it was time to submit another nomination.  Obviously, we were better prepared this time around, and we were much happier with the results.  Plus, in that intervening year, we’d been playing the games as much as we could from various points of the country—staying in touch with the Walk of Fame committee folks, asking for tips on how to submit the best possible application, finding allies in the Hollywood community who could use connections and put in a good word for our nominee, etc. 

As we waited for the announcement of honorees in June of 2007, we were much more hopeful.  But we realized that with all our planning and such, one thing we didn’t know was exactly when or how we’d be notified if Brian was selected, so we bookmarked the Walk of Fame website and checked ridiculous numbers of times, set up Google alerts so we’d get breaking news delivered to our email, lurked on all sorts of internet sites watching for reports.  I will never forget the night the honoree list finally showed up in my web search: I was almost afraid to click the link and read it.  But I held my breath and took the plunge and there he was:  Brian Keith, a posthumous award for his contribution to the art of television!  It was late at night, and I was the only one awake in the house, so I couldn’t scream, but there was some definite dancing going on.  I sent emails to my two comrades in arms (we’d essentially lost one of our founding members by then), and fortunately, between different time zones and insomniac tendencies, I knew they’d both still be awake, too, so I also started calling.  We were like giddy school girls, laughing and talking and celebrating.  And just for a moment, we could simply rejoice and forget all the work that was still left to do. 

The next few days, there were lots of congratulations exchanged among  the fandom and Brian’s family, but we knew we were on a deadline now: the star could not be installed until we had raised the necessary fee.  We went back to work. 

I won’t bore you with all the details (What’s that?  Too late, you say?!), suffice it to say that we did finally reach our goal.  We were fortunate to receive some donations from a few cast/crew members who had worked with Brian over the years, and the Disney corporation made a donation to cover the cost of the reception which followed the installation, but the vast majority of that twenty-five thousand dollars came directly from fans—all around the world, by the way—who simply wanted to have a part in honoring a man’s work.  We mailed off the check to the chamber of commerce in March of 2008, and set into the work of final planning of reception details, speakers at the installation, and travel plans for those of us who were making the trip to watch the fruits of our labor pay off.

It was an excruciatingly long two years, though there were also moments when they seemed to fly by.  But my instinct is, no matter what happens from now on, they will always be some of the best two years of my life, culminating in an event that I will never forget.

If you are so inclined, you can watch the actual unveiling of the star here, though my favorite part of the ceremony was Daniel Hugh Kelly’s heart-felt speech remembering his co-star and friend.  I go back and watch these videos every now and again and remember that wonderful day, and how proud we all felt watching Brian get his star.  I still wish I were out in Hollywood with my friends this week, celebrating the anniversary of this moment, but I’m forever grateful that I was able to be part of making the moment happen.

 

      

I Love it When a Plan Comes Together

 

Well, okay, plan is probably pushing it just a little bit.  We all know that my idea of major planning is making sure my DVR is set up properly, and sometimes I even mess that up.  But, I do kind of believe in a grand plan of some sort, that there’s a positive force in the universe that would prefer things generally work out for the best.  (Yes, I know that plenty of things do not work out well at all, much less for the best, but I still think that’s the plan, even if it doesn’t always work out that way.)

Anyway, it’s with thanks to that positive universal force that I say this week has been going pretty darn well.  I mean, yeah, I’m worn out from adjusting to a new job, but beyond that, things are looking good.  First, of course, I have a job again, which is a major plus.  And, early indications are that it’s a job I will enjoy, which is also a good thing.  I’m learning a lot about how things are run in the office, and tomorrow I get to sit in on my first client interview.  I’m looking forward to that.

Yesterday I got home from work to find a letter from COALA, our local paralegal association, advising me that I’d won their scholarship for this year, so I was pretty excited about that.  It’s not a large scholarship, but it ought to cover my books for next semester, which is great.  I have been out of work a while, and while our single income was certainly keeping us going, there’s no doubt school costs are a bit of a burden, even if it’s a worthwhile burden.  So yay for COALA.

And then today I got an email from the school letting me know I’d won a tuition waiver scholarship for next semester.  How great is that?!  Between the two of them, my fall (and final) semester should be totally covered.  Whoo-hoo!

And, on top of all that, my two on-campus classes seem like they’re going to be really interesting, and my online class—the dreaded math credit—has started off okay so far.  Of course, I’m not kidding myself; I know it’ll get harder before it’s all said and done, but I managed perfect scores on the first couple of homework assignments, and impressed the teacher with the little written blurb that we had to turn in for our very first assignment.  I can deal with that. 

So, yeah, I really do love it when a plan comes together, even if it wasn’t really my plan to begin with.

Image courtesy of digitalart at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

 

January Gone

 

Let me just say that the older I get, the quicker time seems to fly.  I point this out today because I can’t believe the first month of 2013 is over already.  Seriously.  Wasn’t Memorial Day just last month?  Didn’t we celebrate Independence Day last week, and Christmas just yesterday?  If you put me under oath, I’d swear to it.  And, yet, here it is, January 31. Cuh-ray-zee. 

Anyway, the end of the month also brings us to the close of the Ultimate Blog Challenge.  Assuming I hit publish on this thing before the stroke of midnight, I’m giving myself a passing grade, as I will end the month with 31 posts, one for every day of the month. 

Now, besides daily posting, the other part of the challenge is a more social aspect: share your posts on Facebook/Twitter, and make the rounds of other UBC participants, visiting some blogs.  I have to say, while I started off just fine with that, I’ve not done so well with it in the past week, since school started.  I’m giving myself a B- for that part. 

This is the third time I’ve participated in this quarterly challenge, with varying degrees of success.  The first time was the best in terms of my overall participation, but I’ve enjoyed it each time.  There are a wide variety of blogs in the challenge, most of them sites I would never run across in my normal routine.  It’s interesting to me to see the way different people approach their blogging, and the things others like to write about.  It’s good to step out of your comfort zone from time to time, I think.

If you’re following my Weight Loss Wednesday posts, then you also know that today is the end of the Planks-a-Lot challenge, too.  I’m giving myself a big fat D for that one.  Probably it should be an F, but I’m cutting myself a little slack just for improvement shown.  The goal was to be able to hold a plank for 2:30 by today; my best day so far was only half that.  Still, the first one I did at the start of the month was barely ten seconds, so I’ve come quite a ways.  Wendy is continuing the challenge into February (and adding squats, OMG!), so I’m going to keep trying. 

So, two challenges this month—neither of them over the top winners, but both of them pretty good.  I think I can live with that.  Besides time moving so quickly, that’s one of the other things that comes with old age:  learning to recognize and celebrate even the small successes, because those are the ones that keep us moving forward.

What successes have you celebrated this month?

 

Inspiration from Tragedy

 

      

  Gabrielle Giffords, former member, U.S. House of Representatives

       Image credit: Wikipedia Commons

I know it’s only been a couple of weeks ago that I told you how rarely I talk politics, and then went ahead and did it anyway.  And now, I’m leading off with a picture of a politician.  But, not to worry.  Though this post is about a former member of Congress, this really isn’t about politics.  Promise.

Gabrielle “Gabby” Giffords was, as near as I can determine, a hard working, determined, respected member of Congress since 2007, and before that, displayed those same characteristics in her state legislature.  I didn’t know any of that, though, because the state she served was not my own, but Arizona.  She was serving—as far as I was concerned—in anonymity, along with the other 434 members of the House.

But all of that changed in January of 2011.  In the space of one winter afternoon, as she was addressing constituents in her home state, she leaped to national attention when she was the target of an attempted assassination.  She was shot in the head, leaving her critically wounded.  Sadly, many other people were also shot in the attack, six of them fatally. 

It seems like mass shootings have become almost commonplace lately, but—thankfully—not so much that it fails to stun the country.  We were stunned, and everyone rallied around, hoping and praying for a miracle that the congresswoman would survive.  And the miracle was granted.

Slowly—ever so slowly—Gabby was working through her recovery.  As you might expect with a brain injury, there was significant damage.  She had to learn to walk again, and talk.  She had to learn to write with her opposite hand, due to paralysis on her dominant side.  It was days, weeks, months of therapy.  And it isn’t over yet.

Through all of it, the public got periodic updates, following her progress.  We were happy for her when she was able to leave the hospital long enough to go watch her astronaut husband launch into space for his final mission.  We gave thanks when she was released from the hospital for good, and could at least continue her therapy at home.  We cheered for her when she returned briefly to the floor of Congress to cast an important vote.  And we cried when she determined that she still had too much work to do on her own recovery and resigned her position. 

From the far, far outside looking in, it seems that Gabby has borne this burden with unfailing optimism and grace, and a fierce determination to reclaim her life.  Oh, I’m certain that she’s had moments of despair—who wouldn’t, in the face of all she’s been through?  But it’s the optimistic belief in recovery that we’ve seen time and time again, and that’s allowed us to believe in her, too.

And why do I tell you this story now?  Because tonight, on the biggest stage of her political party, we got to see this brave woman yet again.  At the Democratic National Convention, Congresswoman Giffords walked on stage and led the crowd in saying the Pledge of Allegiance.  She walked slowly, signs of partial paralysis still evident.  Her speech was slow and deliberate, clearly still something of a struggle.  But you know what?  She was smiling.  She was happy to be where she was, accomplishing what she was.  It was really amazing to me.  And, based on the cheers and applause and tears in the convention hall, I wasn’t the only one moved. 

How do you go through being shot in the head, losing your most basic functions, giving up your entire life as you’ve known it, and still end up happy?  I’m guessing it’s a case of recognizing how fragile life is, and learning to be grateful for each and every moment.  It makes sense.  But I have to tell you honestly, I’m not sure I could do it.  I’m inspired by Congresswoman Giffords, and I wish her the very, very best.

Who inspires you, and why?

Don’t Count Them Too Soon

 

I’m thinking this evening of sage advice concerning unhatched chickens.

Sometimes things just don’t go as you’d hoped they might.  They don’t even go as you were absolutely certain that they would.  Sometimes, things just go as they damn well please, and your plans don’t even figure into the mix.  Welcome to life.

Still, I remain convinced that things happen for a reason.  When doors close—or even refuse to open to begin with—it’s only because we’re not in the right place just yet.  Something better is waiting further down the road, maybe even still hidden out of sight, but it’s waiting.  Our job is to keep moving until we get there.  I still believe that things always—always—work out as they should.  Today was just a reminder to not be too presumptuous in thinking I have already figured out how things should be.

Even so, there’s no denying that it’s hard sometimes.  When you’re ready for things to happen, ready for things to be a certain way, you don’t want to realize that it’s not yet time.  You don’t want to accept that there’s still more road to travel.  At least I don’t.  Sometimes I just want things to be easy.  But, moping around about things that didn’t work out as we wanted rarely never accomplishes anything, so it’s best to just keep moving.  Better still to learn whatever we can from our disappointments and be better prepared to recognize the right door when it finally comes along.

What have you learned from disappointments in your life?

                                                                                                            Image Credit:  sunsets_for_you photostream

All Good Things

“Success is a journey, not a destination.”  ~Arthur Ashe

Here we are, July 31st.  It’s the end of the month; summer is two-thirds done.  And for my fellow UBCers, this represents the end of the month-long challenge to truly focus on our blogs by writing and publishing a post every day.  I feel fortunate that I managed to keep up my daily posting, and I end this challenge with 35 entries.  I will display my completion badge with pride.

But, from what I’ve observed, everyone who participated in the challenge was successful.  Everywhere I looked, I saw comments that writers were posting more diligently than they’d done in the past, regardless of their schedule or final count.  I heard readers who commented on the new and exciting things they’ve learned this month.  I saw business owners making plans and making contacts.  I saw individuals coming together to support the group.  And I saw people making new friends.  All of that could be nothing less than successful.

So, it will be just a tiny bit bittersweet when I paste that new ribbon over on the side of the page, because I recognize that something good is coming to an end.  Without the push of the challenge, it’s likely that many of us will drift back to our own corners of the world.  Oh, some will drop back in on the group page, and hope to find others still there.  And, of course, I’ve popped some of my favorite new blogs into my reader so that I can easily keep up with what’s going on with the people I’ve become so interested in this month.  I’m not too proud to hope that maybe one or two have done the same with my blog.  But, it seems likely it will not be the same. 

So before we go our separate ways, I send sincere thanks to my fellow participants, for being part of such an engaging few weeks, and hope that we’ll meet again in October.  And, I hope that you will all remember just how successful July has really been.

Making Progress

I’m still working on a better (or at least thinner) me.  Yesterday I hit the 25 pound mark.  It’s taken me just over 11 weeks to lose that much, but I’m mostly pleased with my progress.  Of course I could wish it would go faster, or that there was an easier way of reaching my goal—one that didn’t include giving up my beloved Sonic Coke, for instance—but the truth is, faster is not always better, and the easy way is rarely the right way.  So I’ll keep chugging along, counting calories, eating more fruit and less donuts, and saving an ice cold Coke for really special occasions.

I love it when a plan comes together. (Dec., 23, 2005)

I did my holiday shopping almost entirely online this year. It was very convenient. Of course, it did make browsing for the right gift a bit more of a challenge, but it was mostly okay. And, just today, on my front porch when I returned from the grocery store, was the very last item that I needed to wrap and place under my tree. Cutting it a little close? Well, yeah, and I was getting a bit worried. But all those little elves at retail and shipping establishments everywhere are working overtime right about now, and they got it done. I really do love it when a plan comes together.