A Tale of Two Welders....

This was the best article I've ever written for work. AND it was fun!

A Tale of Two Welders

Two welders, one in New Mexico, one in San Diego... this is their story. A story of, well, welding. Think of it as the Brokeback Mountain of Welding... well maybe not, but check it out. I'm kinda proud of this one.

A conversation

"What time do we need to leave?"

"We have to leave no later than 12:45," I said.

"OK, well, better tell me 12:30 so I won't be late."

Please oh please don't be late. I said to myself. My sister is always late. Usually she calls, but she'll call when she is supposed to be somewhere and say she's on her way. I don't know why she does it. Maybe its because she always tries to fit too many things into a day. Maybe she's afraid she won't have enough time. That life is too short. That maybe her life is too short. Sometimes its hard to get mad at her, because I know she's right.

"12:30" I said, then took a deep breath, quietly, trying not to make it sound like an exasperated sigh. "Please don't be late. This is really important to me." I repeated "12:30" at least six times before hanging up the phone.

I had made our appointment for the StoryCorps mobile booth two weeks earlier. I had a hell of a time getting through the crashing computer system and the phones, and trying to pin my sister down on a date and time that she would be available.

Thursday February 23.

Debby showed up on time, 12:30. We got to Balboa Park early, but the people before us had gotten there late, so we had a bit of time to kill. We chatted with the local KPBS volunteer, N.S. "No Say" Wright
and wandered aimlessly for a few minutes. Soon, Jackie, one of the StoryCorps facilitators invited us into the booth. She gave us the 411 on how the whole think works, gave us paperwork to fill out, and asked what we were here to talk about.

I could hardly get a word out without crying. I thought for sure I was going to totally blow this, that I would just cry through the whole thing and my voice would be a blubbering mess, incomprehensible... Debby said, "I don't know she didn't really tell me much of anything." Which of course was not totally true. I had told her about the StoryCorps and that I wanted to sort of interview her about mom, and that the recording would be in the Library of Congress. Forever. And, I sent her a link to the website....

I finally managed to cry/talk something along the lines of "I want to remember our mom who died in 1978."

When it was our turn to go into the recording studio, Jackie got us settled into a sort of restuarant booth like table rigged up with a couple of big microphones. Jackie's job, she told, was to manage the sound equipment, take notes for cataloging the recording, and keep the time. She also said she might ask for clarification if we talk about something or someone and its not clear...

It was a wonderful experience. Too often when I talk to my sister, we have so many other things going on. People in and out and around. Dinners to be cooked, dishes to be cleaned phones, televisions, music playing... this was just the two of us. Quiet time. Reflective conversation. Remembering or mother.

I managed to pull myself together, and only cried a couple of times. The more amazing thing was that Debby actually cried. She never cries. She's the one who always has it together. Solid as a rock. Composed. She drives me crazy but I love her anyway.

We received a CD of the conversation, with the instruction that we can make as many copies as we like, give them to as many people as we like, but we cannot sell it.
I may post snippets here on my blog if I can figure out how to do that.

StoryCorps

Modeled after the WPA of the 1930s, the Story Corps project is gathering oral histories of ordinary Americans. The recordings will be housed in the American Folklife Center at the Library of Congress. Forever. HOW COOL IS THAT??

I first heard about this project while I was lying in bed one morning listening to public radio. Hard to say WHICH day, as that is how I start every day, and sometimes the mornings blur one into the other....

KPBS, the San Diego radio affiliate station announced that a mobile story corps booth would be in San Diego starting on February 9 and the idea of interviewing my sister about my mom started to gel. To me, it represented a way to honor my mother. Then it started to take hold, like a pit bull with a bone. I couldn't let go.

When I first broached the subject with my sister, I sort of tossed it out there in the middle of making dinner. Casually. She responded the same way, saying “Sure” in that if-I-don’t-have-anything-better-to-do tone. I let it drop for the moment, plotting my strategy, biding my time, laying in wait for the opportunity to 1. Schedule an appointment once the StoryCorps people started accepting calls and 2. Nailing my sister down to commit to a time she would A. be in town and B. be available to go with me.

Whew. I did it. It wasn't easy, but after some frustrating internet time of "Sorry, This Page Is Unavailable At This Time Please Try Later" and then some "Um could you call back. Um our computers are down?" phone calls, I finally prevailed. I'll be interviewing my sister on February 23. I have 27 questions to ask her....

27

My mom was 27 when she had me.... here are 27 questions I want to ask me and my sister:

1. What's your earliest memory of Mom?
2. What traits do you think you inherited from Mom?
3. What traits do you wish you inherited from Mom?
4. What do you think you missed out on most because Mom died so young?
5. Why do you / don't you have any pictures of Mom in your house?
6. How do you think you would be different, as a person, if Mom were still alive?
7. Do you think you would be friends with Mom, or would she drive you crazy?
8. Do you think Dad would have been different had Mom lived?
9. What was your relationship with Mom like?
10. Do you ever dream about Mom?
11. How do you think Mom would want to be remembered?
12. If you could talk to Mom right now, what would you want to say?
13. What are the hardest times?
14. Do you have any traditions to honor Mom?
15. What is the image of Mom that persists?
16. Can you recall your last interaction with Mom?
17. What do you miss most about Mom?
18. What has been the hardest thing about losing Mom?
19. What is your happiest memory of Mom?
20. What is your most vivid memory of Mom?
21. How would Mom’s friends describe Mom?
22. Was there anything you disagreed about, fought over, or experienced some conflict around?
23. What about Mom makes you smile?
24. Were there any jokes Mom used to tell?
25. Was Mom religious?
26. Did Mom believe in an afterlife?
27. What don't you know that only Mom could tell you?

Family History :: 1978

I have a dream(board)

Last last Saturday, or maybe even the Saturday before that, I attended a workshop hosted by Jill Badonsky, to create a dreamboard.

I've done dreamboards before, and while I won't swear that everything I put on my dreamboard has miraculously come true, it is nice to spend some time thinking about what is important, about what I want to focus on for the new year...


Its about setting and more importantly visualizing goals, not making resolutions. I realize its semantics, but for some reason "resolutions" feel more negative than "goals."

The first step was to think about what we want for this year... then flip through magazines and rip out pictures that appeal to us, or somehow symbolize what we want without thinking too hard about it.

For this workshop, Jill suggested we use a bagua (the octogon in the center) to organize how we display images, with the center representing health (spiritual, emotional and physical). The other areas are:

Top left of the board is Wealth and Abundance
Top center is Fame and Reputation
Top right is Relationships
Left is Foundation / Home
Right is creativity / children
Bottom Right is Helpful people and Travel
Bottom left is knowledge
Bottom Center is Career / Life Path


What I discovered is that its all about me now. Me me me me me me me me me me me.
This is my year. Time for me to focus on my stuff. Do my thing. Be me! Me me me me me me.

Oh yea, and figure out who that cute guy is in the top right corner...

MFA?

To MFA or not to MFA...

that is the question.

UCSD is starting up a program, but it won't be up and running until Fall 2007

That is the rumor. No hard information yet. We'll see.

It's about time...

it's about time I posted for 2006
it's about time I figured out what I want to do, focus on, manifest for 2006
it's about time. Too much time spent doing nothing, thinking about doing something but basically not using my time wisely.
it's about time I got back to work on my project. My art. The story I want to tell. Just 30 minutes a day. It's really not about time. It's about inclination, dedication, persistence, and a feeling that I do deserve to be successful. Sure I do well at my job, I have great friends and family, bla bla bla... but what is stopping me from greatness? what holds me back? why don't I just get out there and do it?

Does blogging help or hinder? Do I really get anything out of this exercise in typewritten drivel that no one reads? Or is it just a distraction to pursuing "Reconstructing My Mother?" How easy it would be to let that go. To start something else. A short fiction piece, heck even a novel seems easier than delving into my past, my mother's past, trying to make some sense out of it, my life, such as it was, is, will be. Maybe I can just pretend to remember. Be like James Frey, and smash my life into a Million Little Pieces and reconstruct it on paper. Will people say I lied? Does it matter? What is truth anyway? Don't we all make up our own version of reality based on our experiences, our predjudices, our desires. Who hasn't exagerrated for comic effect when telling a story, or for dramatic effect. Does that make the story a lie? If the story is really a sum of all the details, then does it really make a difference that one of the details is off by one or two. Is there really much difference between 10,000 and 10,097?

Haven't read the book, so I can't say whether the disputed details really make a difference in the overall story, or if the story is well-written, but if you read the book, and it meant something to you, touched you, moved you, opened your mind to something you didn't understand before, then what difference does it make whether he lied or not?

Merry Christmas: God Bless Us Every One

ANOTHER one of my writing teachers, Sue Diaz, also got some good ink. This is from her pen, and really sums up what is important about Christmas, whether you are Christian or not:

A Christmas apart

A mother's story of a son away at war, the phone that may not ring, but the traditions intact

..... Thank you Sue (and Candace Toft too!) , for helping me become a "more powerful writer" can it have been over a year ago?? where does the time go?

One of my Writing Coaches...

My friend and writing coach Jill Badonsky got some good ink the other day in the San Diego Union Tribune.

Jill teaches classes every Third Thursday (say that ten times fast!) I consider her "classes" to be less like school and more like recess. There is a lot of writing, some Read, but no Critique. It's all about fun. We hang out for a couple of hours and play with words.

Note, however, we have a word POOL, not a word "pull" as the above article references. You know, like "pooling" our verbal resources. DOH!

Barbie: A Love Hate Relationship

I LOVED Barbie as a kid. Really Really. I would set up the most elaborate condos made of cardboard boxes. I even crocheted a bedspread for my Barbie. Correction, Barbies. I had tons of them: Barbie, Midge, Francie, Stacie....

I had one hand-me-down from my sister, an old straight-legged Barbie with blue eyeshadow and stiff blond hair. She looked old. I would name her something like Madge, or Louise and her role would be the mean step mother, or more often the mean lady who ran the boarding house where the other girls lived. My favorite was a Stacie doll, with beautiful long red hair in a pony tail that reached down to her waist. Another favorite was my traditional blond Barbie and a brunette who's hair was styled a la Marlo Thomas in "That Girl." Of course I only had one Ken doll. At some point, his arm came out of the socket, so he wore a rubber band "sling" the result of some exotic activity like skiing or mountain climbing. I had a Barbie convertible too.

I would play out intricate story lines that would make a screenwriter weep. OK, well, maybe a screenwriter for Made-For-TV mini series, as the story would go on for days. I hated having to put my Barbies away....

Then at some point I hated Barbie.... the idea of Barbie. The impossible ideal of Barbie. The skinny bitch Barbie. The skinny bitch with her perfectly pert boobs, and her teeny tiny waist. She even had perfect legs. If you consider thighs that are no wider than her arms perfect... Barbie wasn't knock kneed. Barbie didn't wear braces. Barbie didn't wear size 36" Levis. Barbie never had a pimple. Barbie had a perfect boyfriend (even if he always had to wear a sling).

But I never hated her enough to mutilate her!

I am nostalgic for for Barbie, for the love of Barbie. Or maybe its for the stories I created, I don't know. But a couple of years ago, some neighbor girls were selling some of their old toys to raise money for something. And there, in a bright orange felt suit, a Stacie doll with her lovely red ponytail. I bought her for a dollar, and she sits on my bookshelf. Right next to Janet Burroway's Writing Fiction

The War Effort

I don't know why I love these old vintage posters. They just crack me up. Everyone so happy to help out with the war effort....

On Giving

My boss Jim is so cool. And a really nice person... always positive and upbeat but not in an annoying overly perky yet fake kind of way. He told us the other day we are closing our office (Arc-Zone.com - gotta get the plug / link in) the week after Christmas and we all get the time off WITH pay, extra. How Cool Is That?

Anyway, he and his family (adorable 4-year-old Sienna and super nice wife Gina, who drop in every now and again with treats like Jamba Juice, and fun suprises) gave the gift of livestock this year.... through Heifer International. I just love this idea.

I wish I could Whistle a Polka

Old news, I know, but this story is so wonderful. You gotta love a world where a transvestite can make a living as a whistler.



ASSOCIATED PRESS. APRIL 8, 2005
AUSTRIA'S LAST PROFESSIONAL WHISTLER

"Jeanette Schmid, Austria's last professional whistler, who once shared a stage with Frank Sinatra, has died of the flu at 80, a newspaper reported March 10.

Ms. Schmid, better known as Baroness Lips von Lipstrill..... born as a man in what now is the Czech Republic"....MORE...

religion and god and stuff

I seem to be writing/thinking a lot about religious stuff of late. Maybe it began back in July when I met my mom's high school sweetheart... who asked if I went to church. Strange question that. I have never asked anyone that. It doesn't matter to me. I guess if pressed, I would say I believe in god, but not the kind the talk about in church. My god is more sort of the life force that binds us all together ("May the Force Be With You" always resonated with me.) I would include animals there too... not to mention ewoks. It's what is in us that is beyond the flesh and blood.

Then you have the Christians... they're everywhere, and they seem to be involved in scandals all over the place! Well, at least at the same rate as us non-bible thumpers. I really don't feel like going there now, though. Suffice it to say any time anyone tries to force anything down my throat I'm apt to reject it, and suspect their motives for being so adamant.

My mom believed in God. I think I forgot that about her...

And then I found the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. I was so excited, I invited all my friends to join me.

Julie declined to join me, saying "Thank you, Jenn. But I have recently joined Our Lady of Fettuccini here in Alhambra and there are so many Olive Garden dinners coming up that I don't think I'll have time for your church." heathen.

Ralph said "If it ain't freshly made Angel Hair then I'm not going."

Yea, well, I guess they are both goin' to hell. Or McDonalds, I'm not sure, I'll have to check the tenets of my new faith, but no more pasta thumpin' for me!

Betrayed.

I almost hate to post this after yesterday's post about hippies and bible-thumpers... but this bit of news is so disturbing... Greed is gonna take this country down.

Rep. Cunningham Pleads Guilty to Bribery, Resigns
The veteran lawmaker admits receiving $2.4 million from military contractors and evading more than $1 million in taxes.

By Tony Perry, Times Staff Writer

SAN DIEGO — A tearful, trembling Rep. Randy "Duke" Cunningham (R-Rancho Santa Fe) resigned Monday after pleading guilty to receiving $2.4 million in bribes from military contractors and evading more than $1 million in taxes. MORE....

and in case you're not familiar with my representative.... here's a nice little story about him:


Fighter ace has not been strong on subtlety
By Dana Wilkie COPLEY NEWS SERVICE

***************************************************



I feel betrayed, and I didn't even vote for him... I imagine those folks who voted for him feel the same way I felt when I found out Clinton had sex in the Oval Office with an intern! disgusted. outraged. betrayed. That he would be so disrespectful of the office to which he was elected, and would trade in the respect of his constituency for [ ] a piece of ass or [ ] a mansion and a Rolls Royce ... not sure which is worse.

What Cunningham will forfeit with his plea bargain deal: More than $1.8 million in cash, his interest in his Rancho Santa Fe home and more than a dozen antiques, pieces of furniture and rugs.

Don't feel too sorry for the tearful trembling old guy though. His retirement salary from the Navy --probably about 5K a month-- will do him just fine. Not to mention some sort of pension from Congress.

and Word UP Dems... let he who is without sin cast the first stone and all that... you need to stop the finger pointing and start coming up with a VISION. Folks want to be FOR something, not just against the other guy.

What the World Needs Now...

Is more people to take the time to get to know other people, people that are different than they are.... the world really would be a better place. We are really not that different when you get right down to it, whether you're a bible-loving Christian from Texas or a pot-smoking hippie from the Rainbow family. We all want a nice environment, we want everyone to have enough to eat, to be healthy... we believe in some kind of higher power, god, allah, yaweh, whatever...

This story pretty much exemplifies what can happen when we let go our predjudices and learn to fly together:

A Gospel and Granola Bond
Two radically different sets of volunteers arrived in post-Katrina Mississippi to feed the hungry, and their lives were changed forever.By Elizabeth Mehren, Times Staff Writer

WAVELAND, Miss. — Days after Hurricane Katrina hit, they began cooking together in a grocery store parking lot: evangelical Christians from Texas and Rainbow Family flower children from all over.... MORE...

The Real America...

Too bad we can't re-elect Jimmy Carter

"This isn't the real America" by Jimmy Carter

IN RECENT YEARS, I have become increasingly concerned by a host of radical government policies that now threaten many basic principles espoused by all previous administrations, Democratic and Republican.

These include the rudimentary American commitment to peace, economic and social justice, civil liberties, our environment and human rights.

Also endangered are our historic commitments to providing citizens with truthful information, treating dissenting voices and beliefs with respect, state and local autonomy and fiscal responsibility.... MORE...

http://www.latimes.com/news/opinion/commentary/la-oe-carter14nov14,0,7164514.story

Anne Rice Born Again

Eeegads. Can it be true?

Congratulations Debby!

My sister just (well last week) completed her initial training to become a Gyrotonics instructor.

If you don't know what that is, you're not alone...

If you are curious, check out the gyrotonics website.

Yeah! Debby!!