What the Press Reports . . . and Doesn't

Wednesday of last week Frank and I had the opportunity to attend the Air Force Academy graduation. This was a big deal because President Bush was the commencement speaker.

I didn’t feel well, I think the pollens in this part of Colorado are wreaking havoc on me, but that did not hinder us. We left the house at 7:15am, ate a breakfast of healthy kids snacks (a proper noun) and bananas on the way and arrived at the academy by 8:00, parked and made our way through security. I think by this point I had asked Frank if he was excited at least fifteen times. As we were getting out of the car, Frank pointed to his Stanford ball cap that Uncle Andy gave him and asked me if Stanford was an Air Force rival, I told him perhaps only in prestige. He was concerned that by wearing it he might be disrespectful. (What a kid.)

We got through security pretty quickly, perhaps it was because we were two hours early. We looked to where our seats were and thanks to Colonel Rush and Mr. Van Ness, who gave us the tickets, we saw that we were in the VIP section, which meant we got to sit in seats rather than on bleachers. Hoorah! Since it was drizzling and cold, we decided to invest $40 of the $65 in cash I brought with me on blankets. The first queue we were in ran out of blankets with the person in front of us. We raced to the next level and got in another queue. Success this time, but the credit card machines were down so cash was the only option. Again we decided it was worth it to be warm.

On our way to our seats, the seat cushions we saw others renting were mighty tempting. Regardless of whether we were in seats or bleachers, either would still be cold and damp. So away went another $10 of our precious cash.

To our seats we went, had to give our names along with our tickets to gain entrance to the coveted VIP section which was directly in front of the press box. While not at all close to the stage, we were directly in front of where the president would give his address. Fifteen more times by now I asked Frank if he was excited.

While others stayed near the concessions, under protection from the light drizzle and cold, Frank and I opted to sit in our seats and talk, taking in our surroundings, taking mental snapshots of all that was happening, and also taking photos. We chatted about how excited we were. We watched the 1,012 cadets lining up off in the distance, made note of the fog as it seemed to lift and then bank in again. We talked about what Frank might want to be some day and all the career paths these cadets might take if they didn’t become pilots. Frank decided he would save the two blankets we purchased and give them to his children. He said, “I’m going to give these to my kids and tell them I got them the day I saw the President of the United States in person.” (Did I already say, “what a kid!”) We spent another $10 on hot chocolate and coffee, two each during our wait. We were now down to $5, but it appeared the concessions did take debit cards on our level so we would be able to get lunch later.

We wagered on when and how the president would arrive and oohed and aahed when a number of limousines, including one bearing the presidential seal, drove into the stadium. Frank watched me closely when the air force marching band started to play to see if I had yet started to tear up. Soon the cadets made their way in, the crowd cheered and rose. Then came the announcement the various VIPs were arriving, including the hierarchy of the air force and defense department. “Hail to the Chief” began and the announcement came that the president was about to arrive. We looked to our left and saw President Bush walk the same path taken by the soon-to-be graduates. The crowd roared. Frank took off his Stanford cap and put it over his heart and as the national anthem began so did my stream of tears.

After the invocation and introductions, the president began his address. It was much of what I expected, but Frank and I listened intently through all thirty-five minutes of it. Unbelievably there were two cadets standing behind us talking through it. After seeing him turn and stare at them a number of times, I have to admit I was proud when I heard him “shush” them. One took notice of him and actually tapped the other telling her to be quiet. Again I was very proud that my not-yet-nine-year-old understood to respect that the leader of the free world was speaking and the proper thing to do was be quiet and listen.

Frank decided at the end of his address that he was starving. We made our way to the concessions only to discover (horrors!) that the credit card machines were down again. Thankfully Dave Van Ness was not only generous in giving us the tickets, he also bought our lunch. What a guy.

This is the part I will never forget. Remember I said there were 1,012 cadets graduating? After his address, I fully expected the president to leave, and he did not. He stayed and personally addressed each and every graduate as they received their diploma. It took about 90 minutes. Donna (Dave’s wife) and I commented repeatedly how wonderful it was that President Bush was taking the time to speak to each one of them. He shook hands, hugged when the cadets hugged him, danced when they danced, talked to one’s mother on the cell phone, knew their secret handshakes, punched shoulders, kissed the hands of the female cadets, smiled, joked, and gave each one the respect they deserved for their hard work and the sacrifices they made and were about to make. I have seldom been so proud of my country.

As the graduates went back to their seats, the time came for them to toss their hats. As the announcement was made, the hats went into the air and four thunderbirds flew threw the stadium in perfect formation. More waterworks from me. Note that I said the thunderbirds flew THROUGH the stadium, not OVER. I don’t know where they came from, but it was the most perfectly timed thing I have ever seen.

Due to the inclement weather, the thunderbirds could not put on their anticipated show. I’m sure many were very disappointed, but I have to admit I wasn’t. Frank has wonderful memories of this day and all the magical, spectacular events that took place, and none of those memories have anything to do with airplane tricks. Not to diminish the significance of the thunderbirds or the exceptional pilots that they are, but on that day, my son’s hero was the president.

Whether one agrees with his agenda or philosophies, whether he is, as the press reports, the least popular president in modern history, he is STILL the President of the United States and I’d much rather my son learn respect for the man and the office than have to hear what "popular" opinion might be. That respect will serve him much better in life than any news report ever will.

Frank and I left the graduation ceremony and met up with Daddy and Beckett for a late snack. We were both windburned, chilled and exhausted but no one could wipe the smiles off our faces. We shared our experiences and our eyes met from time to time. As mine filled once again with tears of pride as I listened to my fine son, I saw him pause and smile at me. What a kid.

Sparrow Marketing

Sparrow is up and running again, which I'm excited about. I think. I had hoped to retire from the fast-paced, creatively-demanding world of marketing and advertising and simply run a store that sold things other people were responsible for creating.

However, in the current economy, I don't have that luxury. The art market business is okay. And that's it. Just okay. Not good enough. I have hopes that with some changes we're making in order to drive more traffic, it will go from okay to great. But that is to be seen.

Given all the work Doug and I have done to market the market as well as the historic district of the town, we have gotten a lot of attention relating to our marketing skills. We're currently doing marketing and design work (paid work) for the town and the chamber of commerce, which is also giving us visibility.

A couple of months ago a woman came into the market who had recently moved here and had a background in design and was interested in some work. As it turned out, we ended up deciding to work together to build the marketing business here. Since I'm already stretched pretty thin with the art market, it is great to have her as a partner. She's also funny and fun, so there are other benefits as well.

Again, it is to be seen how much business we can actually generate, but I'm hoping one or more of these irons I have in the fire turn into something prosperous. Before we run out of money entirely.

A Brand New Day

Today is sunny and beautiful, which means the art gallery will be quiet. Whenever it is sunny and beautiful on a Saturday in Monument, people stay home and plant flowers, work in their gardens, go on hikes, go for bike rides and enjoy the outdoors in general. Can't say as I blame them.

I awoke this morning ready for a brand new day and ready to leave yesterday's "troubles" behind me. Were they really troubles? Or were they blessings in disguise?

In taking a new look at yesterday's chain of events, Doug is greatly relieved that we don't have to figure out how to tell the ceramic artist and his wife that while we like them very much as people, their work ethic and overall attitude makes it impossible for us to have them in the gallery. We have also had a run on artists submitting new work for consideration that we prefer vastly over the work they did. So on several fronts, their decision not to show in our gallery is one that benefits us greatly.

As far as the new employee goes, I had some concerns over whether she would be able to handle the computer and administrative aspect of the job. We've had two employees since we opened who were really not able to and it caused problems for us. In addition, a red flag shoots up for me whenever someone starts a job with telling you all the time they need off. In my experience, rather than continuing to plan vacations, it seems as though when starting a new job, the thinking would be that it would be unlikely they w0uld get vacation time in the beginning and alter their plans.

And the "nanny"—I don't know what the right thing is for Beck right now. I know he needs more one-on-one time, I know he deserves to have "summer vacation" just like his brother does, and I know the preschool he was in has some serious staff issues right now. So all in all, while I don't know yet what he's going to do, this was at least an impetus for me to make the changes that need to be made rather than sticking with something that I knew wasn't working merely for the sake of convenience. Never a good methodology for your children.

Okay universe, I'm ready for whatever today brings.

Witch Doctor Voodoo

Okay, so far today:

1. Our ceramic artist notified us that he is withdrawing from the gallery (not necessarily bad news, kinda good news because we don’t have to be the bad guys and ask him to leave, which we were going to do).

2. Our new employee (hired yesterday) emailed; she’s decided after however many years of working from home that she doesn’t want to be on a schedule. (Would’ve been a good thing to decide before she (1) applied for a job (2) went on the interview and/or (3) accepted the job, but okay, I understand).

3. New nanny (job offered to her today) emailed; her parents don’t want her to work for a family where there is a man who works from home and she’d be there “alone” with him (okay, this one I totally understand, BUT after the other two . . .)

I DID go and tell Doug that if he was going to divorce me or decide to leave for some other reason, or had any other news that would turn my world topsy-turvy NOT to tell me TODAY. And I suppose the same would go for anyone else reading this blog.

I’m thinking the witch doctor telepathically (or however it works for witches) found out I divulged his secret and has now somehow cursed me for it. And what that refers to is that someone told me they knew someone who was a doctor and a "witch" but kept it secret because then he would obviously (I assume) lose all his patients. While I don't even know him, or even his name, I did tell someone the same story that I've just written here. (Again, I don't know his name, so therefore I didn't REALLY divulge the secret, only sort of.)

I would blame it on the moon, but it was full on Monday, not today or even yesterday or tomorrow.

So, having hired the nanny, or so I thought, for the summer, I called Beck's preschool and told them we were going to take a break for the summer. Great. But honestly, that needed to happen anyway. The current director looked me in the eye today and lied to me. After much soul-searching Doug and I decided that we simply can’t have Beckett in that environment regardless of a new nanny or otherwise.

And, Doug is afraid that Ballou is a “bad” dog because he doesn’t like strangers, and really isn’t great about warming up to them lately (for example, Frank’s friend who is spending the night tonight).

So now along with finding new care for Beck, I suppose I should seriously look into some kind of training program for Ballou too.

I think I would simply crawl up into a little fetal ball if anything else happened today, how many more hours are there in today? I do have to admit that I woke up the last two nights with a feeling that something bad was going to happen. Is this it? I mean ALL of it? For now?

Miss so much

There is so much I miss when I don't write, and so much I don't miss when I do. Something will cause me to look back in the archives of this blog, and I will read about something I do or don't remember all that well, and then it reminds me how much I appreciate that I took the time to write about it. Wish I could fine the time to write more.

Big 10

Tomorrow is our tenth wedding anniversary. I remember the events of ten years ago as if they happened yesterday. Everything about the week before our wedding was spectacular. The day of our wedding was as close to perfect as a day can be, and our honeymoon was equally wonderful.

We don't have time to go to Cambria, where we got married, this weekend. So we're going to Aspen. But looking forward to being in Cambria in July is good enough for me.

Raven, Raven Go Away

Recently a young woman here in Monument passed away suddenly. I wasn't particularly close to her, but her passing has affected me profoundly. She was a year or two older than I am, seemingly in good health and the mother of a fifteen year old boy.

I think when we are young, single and not yet parents, the thought of dying is so esoteric, that it becomes a fleeting thought of "oh that will never happen to me." It changes drastically, or did for me, when I became a parent. Suddenly the thought of something happening, God forbid, to either Doug or me, becomes a nightmare of what that would mean for our boys. Their lives would change profoundly which becomes unthinkably painful for me.

Two days ago I felt a cold coming on. Lucy, a Monument icon, told me that I should take zicam at the first sign of a cold. So, not one to be an iconoclast, I took it. I attribute that to the fact that today I'm feeling almost normal. The cold probably would have hit me a lot harder had I not, although yesterday was hellish.

I have to admit this woman's passing hit me pretty hard, not so much because I was close to her, but more so because she and I are so close in age. That, combined with the RAVEN (not a big crow, a raven) that has been hanging out at the store every day for the last week, has really given me a strong case of hypochondria, not something I'm prone to. My cold or flu or whatever it was, transformed yesterday into a stroke or who knows what. Perhaps the fever added to that as well.

I'm hoping the raven has decided to hang out in someone else's yard.