Wee Willie Winkie runs through the town, upstairs and downstairs, in his nightgown. Rapping at the windows, crying through the lock, "Are all the children in their beds for now it's 8 o'clock."
This nosey, bossy, peeping-Tom character from a nursery rhyme book that I used to read as a child at my Grandma A's house (I had a Grandma named Anne and a Grandma named Beatrice -- also known as "Grandma A" and "Grandma B") was one of the answers to a clue in my crossword puzzle book last night. I hadn't thought of this little guy in years, but the more that I pondered the poem, the more that I think he and I have quite a bit in common.
Although I don't wear nightgowns, obsess about bedtimes, or yell outside of people's doors, I too take nightly walks through my neighborhood, peering in at the well-lit interiors of apartments, curious to see who has big screen TVs, well-decorated living rooms (people hang things on the walls as if committed to living here for the rest of their lives), toys scattered all over the floor, a crowd hanging out at their place, or bored pets peering out at the exciting outdoor life just beyond their grasp. In these moments, the rooms are a collection of movie screens, lined up on a museum wall, and I march past, peering at each of the snapshots of human existence, piecing together random stories about the characters in the scenes.
Every once in a while, however, someone peers back at me and our eyes meet. The gig is up! They've looked at me looking at them, and I speed up to move quickly on to the next tableau, while they wonder about my story and wait for the next passerby to break up the monotony of the view from their sofa.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
The songs of our youth
I don't mean to over-sentimentalize "the greatest generation" but it does seem that at least the songs of their youth had some style and panache. Think of the Big Bands, Frank Sinatra, and Bing Crosby. Think of the lyrics to God Bless America, Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy, or even All Shook Up. These are songs you could hear as an 80 year old and think back fondly to the glory days of happy times, a unified America, and a world that seemed a little more simple and predictable than the one you're living in now.
This sentimentality about childhood is harder drum up for those of us who grew up in the 1970s and 1980s, and this fact came home to me this evening while driving home from the grocery store. A song came on the radio that immediately took me back to the year 1983. I was instantly transported into the darkened recesses of my small-town roller rink, cruising along (crossing-over around the corners, of course) to My Angel is a Centerfold. Now that's a classy song (thank you, The J. Geils Band!).
At the age of 9 I had no idea what the lyrics meant and, in fact, remember singing along and kind of muttering through the "centerfold" part in the chorus because I didn't understand what they were saying. Ironically, the song is kind of about lost innocence and about people not being who they appear to be. These were the themes of our age, and it's hard to get sentimental about that.
Well, at least we'll always have the innocence of Puff the Magic Dragon to cling to. Nothing can tarnish that! Right?
This sentimentality about childhood is harder drum up for those of us who grew up in the 1970s and 1980s, and this fact came home to me this evening while driving home from the grocery store. A song came on the radio that immediately took me back to the year 1983. I was instantly transported into the darkened recesses of my small-town roller rink, cruising along (crossing-over around the corners, of course) to My Angel is a Centerfold. Now that's a classy song (thank you, The J. Geils Band!).
At the age of 9 I had no idea what the lyrics meant and, in fact, remember singing along and kind of muttering through the "centerfold" part in the chorus because I didn't understand what they were saying. Ironically, the song is kind of about lost innocence and about people not being who they appear to be. These were the themes of our age, and it's hard to get sentimental about that.
Well, at least we'll always have the innocence of Puff the Magic Dragon to cling to. Nothing can tarnish that! Right?
Do I know you?
I wouldn't call myself an optimist, per se, but I do go through life expecting to be pleasantly surprised at any moment. I am, of course, often disappointed and am not pleasantly surprised, or sometimes I am even unpleasantly surprised, but I still believe deep down that these few moments of unpleasant-surprise-ness are the exception of my life instead of the rule. At any moment, something totally awesome could happen. I can just feel it.
One of the more extreme ways that this belief comes out is that I am constantly thinking that I see someone I know. Not someone I know from work or from church or from my neighborhood, however, but someone who lives across the US or even in another country, someone who has utterly no business being in my city. Yet, I could swear that I just saw them pulling away from the gas pump next to mine, or turning down an aisle in the grocery store, or on the jumbotron cheering at a hockey game. When this happens, the "expecting surprises" part of me is convinced that friends or relations who do not in fact live anywhere near me have made a special trip to Nashville and are driving around in cars past the intersection where I am sitting at a red light or walking down the road in front of my office to subtly surprise me with their presence . . . if I would just so happen to look up and notice that they're there.
Now, I do know that the chances of this actually happening are very unlikely. What friend would travel all the way across the country and spend the day following you around in a rented car, hoping that you'll look up and go, "Oh my goodness! Is that Stacy? Wow! It is!" Most people don't have time for this kind of tomfoolery and would instead call ahead to make sure you'll be in town when they visit, have you pick them up at the airport, make plans to stay at your house, and then go home when the weekend is over. Yet for some reason I hang on to the notion that one day I will walking into the post office to get my mail and I'll pass one of my friends coming out of the building, seemingly engaged in conversation on their cell phone, wondering if I've figured out yet that it's them.
Oddly, when I just coincidentally run into someone I know at the airport or at Disney World or at the Grand Ole Opry, I never think they've spent the whole day walking around just on the edge of my vision, waiting for me to turn my head and catch them in the act. It seems like a true coincidence that I'm there and they're there and we ran into each other.
Hmmm... Maybe I'm not giving people enough credit for their cleverness. Maybe they're so clever that their "I'm surprised to see you, too!" act has had me totally fooled. I may have more pleasant surprises in my life than I originally thought. What a pleasant surprise!
One of the more extreme ways that this belief comes out is that I am constantly thinking that I see someone I know. Not someone I know from work or from church or from my neighborhood, however, but someone who lives across the US or even in another country, someone who has utterly no business being in my city. Yet, I could swear that I just saw them pulling away from the gas pump next to mine, or turning down an aisle in the grocery store, or on the jumbotron cheering at a hockey game. When this happens, the "expecting surprises" part of me is convinced that friends or relations who do not in fact live anywhere near me have made a special trip to Nashville and are driving around in cars past the intersection where I am sitting at a red light or walking down the road in front of my office to subtly surprise me with their presence . . . if I would just so happen to look up and notice that they're there.
Now, I do know that the chances of this actually happening are very unlikely. What friend would travel all the way across the country and spend the day following you around in a rented car, hoping that you'll look up and go, "Oh my goodness! Is that Stacy? Wow! It is!" Most people don't have time for this kind of tomfoolery and would instead call ahead to make sure you'll be in town when they visit, have you pick them up at the airport, make plans to stay at your house, and then go home when the weekend is over. Yet for some reason I hang on to the notion that one day I will walking into the post office to get my mail and I'll pass one of my friends coming out of the building, seemingly engaged in conversation on their cell phone, wondering if I've figured out yet that it's them.
Oddly, when I just coincidentally run into someone I know at the airport or at Disney World or at the Grand Ole Opry, I never think they've spent the whole day walking around just on the edge of my vision, waiting for me to turn my head and catch them in the act. It seems like a true coincidence that I'm there and they're there and we ran into each other.
Hmmm... Maybe I'm not giving people enough credit for their cleverness. Maybe they're so clever that their "I'm surprised to see you, too!" act has had me totally fooled. I may have more pleasant surprises in my life than I originally thought. What a pleasant surprise!
Monday, June 04, 2007
Walking the dog
Today I was eating lunch with some friends on the patio in front of the Panera at the Green Hills Mall. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something moving across the ground and then I saw someone walking along, seemingly behind whatever object I had just seen moving. My first thought (my first thought!) was, "Is that man walking one of those 'invisible dogs'?" and I craned my neck to see.
Note: I haven't actually seen one of those stiff leashes that are supposed to be "invisible dogs" since I was about 13 years old.
Why would I think that a grown man would suddenly be walking around with one now, here (far from the seaside boardwalks where invisible dogs are bred), at the Green Hills Mall? The idea that I thought someone had an invisible dog suddenly seemed more ridiculous to me than if he had actually been walking an invisible dog. Whose mind jumps to invisible dog before real dog, bird, napkin (which is what I really saw), strangely-visible wind, or even hole in the fabric of time?
But it had been a surreal day at the Panera even before this happened. Just moments before, a 60 year old man wearing bright green shorts, a bright pink shirt, and matching pink crocs had strode past our table. I was so distracted by his loudly-hued outfit that I did not even notice if he was walking an invisible dog. And maybe that was his clever strategy.
Note: I haven't actually seen one of those stiff leashes that are supposed to be "invisible dogs" since I was about 13 years old.
Why would I think that a grown man would suddenly be walking around with one now, here (far from the seaside boardwalks where invisible dogs are bred), at the Green Hills Mall? The idea that I thought someone had an invisible dog suddenly seemed more ridiculous to me than if he had actually been walking an invisible dog. Whose mind jumps to invisible dog before real dog, bird, napkin (which is what I really saw), strangely-visible wind, or even hole in the fabric of time?
But it had been a surreal day at the Panera even before this happened. Just moments before, a 60 year old man wearing bright green shorts, a bright pink shirt, and matching pink crocs had strode past our table. I was so distracted by his loudly-hued outfit that I did not even notice if he was walking an invisible dog. And maybe that was his clever strategy.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
My other favorite topic: Shoes
After living in Nashville for two years, I have finally stumbled upon the thing I will really miss if we ever move away -- the Marti and Liz shoe store in Cool Springs. It's in the same shopping center as the Kroger on Mallory Lane. If you have not yet visited this store (assuming that you love shoe shopping), please make a trip down there as soon as is humanly possible.
I first visited Marti and Liz after my birthday in January. With birthday money burning a hole in my pocket, Les and I found this legendary store and I spent a good hour there, trying on shoes and working to narrow down my purchases to a less outrageous quantity than every pair on the shelf in my size. I walked out the door with (only) five pairs of shoes, and it was a struggle for me to hold myself back to that number. Still, I only spent $120 dollars on five pairs, and I thought that was a great bargain.
In case I haven't explained it before, my mother created what I consider to be an ingenious system for rationalizing spending money on things. The system is this: Will you use/wear this item one time for every dollar you spend on it?
You can quickly see the wisdom in this system through the following examples:
1. A pair of sneakers for $90. Will I wear them 90 times? Yes, I'll probably wear them at least twice a week for a year. Okay, then I can rationalize buying them.
2. A dress for $80. Will I wear this dress 80 times? No way! Then I really need to think long and hard about buying it.
You can see where this system breaks down for things like cars or houses and other extremely high-dollar items, but otherwise this is a fantastic guideline for determining whether or not to buy something, no matter how expensive or inexpensive it seems.
But if you're going to spend money, just give Marti and Liz a try.
I first visited Marti and Liz after my birthday in January. With birthday money burning a hole in my pocket, Les and I found this legendary store and I spent a good hour there, trying on shoes and working to narrow down my purchases to a less outrageous quantity than every pair on the shelf in my size. I walked out the door with (only) five pairs of shoes, and it was a struggle for me to hold myself back to that number. Still, I only spent $120 dollars on five pairs, and I thought that was a great bargain.
In case I haven't explained it before, my mother created what I consider to be an ingenious system for rationalizing spending money on things. The system is this: Will you use/wear this item one time for every dollar you spend on it?
You can quickly see the wisdom in this system through the following examples:
1. A pair of sneakers for $90. Will I wear them 90 times? Yes, I'll probably wear them at least twice a week for a year. Okay, then I can rationalize buying them.
2. A dress for $80. Will I wear this dress 80 times? No way! Then I really need to think long and hard about buying it.
You can see where this system breaks down for things like cars or houses and other extremely high-dollar items, but otherwise this is a fantastic guideline for determining whether or not to buy something, no matter how expensive or inexpensive it seems.
But if you're going to spend money, just give Marti and Liz a try.
One of my favorite topics: Hair
One of my favorite topics to talk about with anyone is what they're planning to do with their hair, style-wise. My husband says that my sister and I are all about "hair and shoes" and, indeed, when the two of us are together, those two items usually come up in conversation within the first ten minutes. He suggests that talking about shoes made out of hair or a hair-style shaped like a shoe would be our ultimate bliss, but I fear that it would probably be too much of a good thing and we'd both implode as a result.
Right now I'm "growing my hair out." That is the official "girl phrase" used to describe the act of only letting your hairdresser cut off the minimum amount each time you sit in the beauty salon chair. Currently, it almost touches my shoulders, which is actually pretty long for me. If I tip my head way back, I can grab about an inch of my hair with my hand behind my back. I know that tipping your head way back is cheating when it comes to judging hair length, but every girl who has grown her hair out knows that you have to cheat a little bit to encourage yourself along down the long and arduous path of growing your hair into a longer style. Draping a towel on your head like hair and flipping it around is another good way to cheat and make yourself feel like you have really long hair. Not that I've actually done this. I'm just saying I've heard about such things. You know, from friends. Crazy friends.
There are many moments during the course of growing your hair out that you consider chopping it all off. Sometimes it gets in your mouth when you bend over to pick something up. Annoying! Sometimes you see a girl with a super-cute short haircut and you think, "Ooooh! I want that!" Or sometimes you just feel an overwhelming sense of futility about the whole thing -- "My hair will NEVER get long! What's the point of torturing myself?" But then you'll see someone with lovely, long hair and, even if your hair has never been long or lovely or long and lovely, you'll think, "I will also look that beautiful one day when my hair is long and lovely and swooshy!" And so you persist.
In high school, we used to actually wash our hair with some sort of horrible-smelling horse shampoo to make it grow faster. These days I know more people who are taking pre-natal vitamins (never mind the nausea!) for the same results. I am fortunate to have a very good hairdresser (Nikki at the Tip Top Salon) who just somehow arranges things in a magical way to enable me to have a good-looking haircut all the way through this challenging process.
Today I wore my hair in a ponytail all day and was so excited that it was long enough to do that. Next . . . braids. I can hardly handle the anticipation!
Right now I'm "growing my hair out." That is the official "girl phrase" used to describe the act of only letting your hairdresser cut off the minimum amount each time you sit in the beauty salon chair. Currently, it almost touches my shoulders, which is actually pretty long for me. If I tip my head way back, I can grab about an inch of my hair with my hand behind my back. I know that tipping your head way back is cheating when it comes to judging hair length, but every girl who has grown her hair out knows that you have to cheat a little bit to encourage yourself along down the long and arduous path of growing your hair into a longer style. Draping a towel on your head like hair and flipping it around is another good way to cheat and make yourself feel like you have really long hair. Not that I've actually done this. I'm just saying I've heard about such things. You know, from friends. Crazy friends.
There are many moments during the course of growing your hair out that you consider chopping it all off. Sometimes it gets in your mouth when you bend over to pick something up. Annoying! Sometimes you see a girl with a super-cute short haircut and you think, "Ooooh! I want that!" Or sometimes you just feel an overwhelming sense of futility about the whole thing -- "My hair will NEVER get long! What's the point of torturing myself?" But then you'll see someone with lovely, long hair and, even if your hair has never been long or lovely or long and lovely, you'll think, "I will also look that beautiful one day when my hair is long and lovely and swooshy!" And so you persist.
In high school, we used to actually wash our hair with some sort of horrible-smelling horse shampoo to make it grow faster. These days I know more people who are taking pre-natal vitamins (never mind the nausea!) for the same results. I am fortunate to have a very good hairdresser (Nikki at the Tip Top Salon) who just somehow arranges things in a magical way to enable me to have a good-looking haircut all the way through this challenging process.
Today I wore my hair in a ponytail all day and was so excited that it was long enough to do that. Next . . . braids. I can hardly handle the anticipation!
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Bible Belt Bumpers
Something that has been fun about living in The South is that people tend to wear their religious beliefs on their sleeves a lot more than in non-Southern areas. This leads to a few interesting discussions with strangers, a lot of in-your-face t-shirts (that you have to read quickly and secretly to not get engaged in a conversation on the topic of the t-shirt), and some though-provoking experiences. This post is about my two favorite bumper stickers (so far...), but I'll veer down the tangential path of Christian subculture in general as well.
But first, the bumper stickers!
Favorite bumper sticker #1: Are you following Jesus as closely as you're following me?
Favorite bumper sticker #2: Try Jesus. If you don't like Him, the Devil will take you back.
Before I moved to The South and before I worked at a Christian company, I had no idea of the humor-filled (yet pointed) subculture that exists within the Christian community. Case in point, this music video by Sir Readsalot. I love it, but I had never heard of it before I started mixing with the Christians. What else have I been missing?
Similarly, someone just emailed me these "Christian vs. Christ-follower" parodies of the Mac vs. PC commercials. Well-done, and they do make a point.
Churches here advertise on bulletin boards, our free paper has a section on where to worship, and they even have a "Church of the Week" feature on the local news. It's so different from our experience in Michigan, and I have to say that I'm more thoughtful about my faith since I've been submersed into a culture (both at work and around town) that focuses on religion and spirituality so much.
If you weren't a Christian, I could see how this would really get on your nerves, or make you feel like an outsider here. But, that's the interesting thing about Nashville . . . there's the honky-tonkin', partyin', livin'-it-up side of the city as well. Although sometimes you'll find the same people at Tootsie's on Saturday night and in the pew next to you on Sunday, so you never can tell...
But first, the bumper stickers!
Favorite bumper sticker #1: Are you following Jesus as closely as you're following me?
Favorite bumper sticker #2: Try Jesus. If you don't like Him, the Devil will take you back.
Before I moved to The South and before I worked at a Christian company, I had no idea of the humor-filled (yet pointed) subculture that exists within the Christian community. Case in point, this music video by Sir Readsalot. I love it, but I had never heard of it before I started mixing with the Christians. What else have I been missing?
Similarly, someone just emailed me these "Christian vs. Christ-follower" parodies of the Mac vs. PC commercials. Well-done, and they do make a point.
Churches here advertise on bulletin boards, our free paper has a section on where to worship, and they even have a "Church of the Week" feature on the local news. It's so different from our experience in Michigan, and I have to say that I'm more thoughtful about my faith since I've been submersed into a culture (both at work and around town) that focuses on religion and spirituality so much.
If you weren't a Christian, I could see how this would really get on your nerves, or make you feel like an outsider here. But, that's the interesting thing about Nashville . . . there's the honky-tonkin', partyin', livin'-it-up side of the city as well. Although sometimes you'll find the same people at Tootsie's on Saturday night and in the pew next to you on Sunday, so you never can tell...
Construction Worker Kudos
Now, I know that giving props to construction workers is not exactly "up there" in the realm of popular things to do, but I just can't help it. I drive on Elm Hill Pike and under Briley Parkway every day on my way to and from work. I have been making this commute ever since I moved to Nashville, and construction on this intersection basically started as soon as I moved here (had I known, I would have looked for a place of residence on the same side of Briley as my office, but that's water under the bridge now), so I feel that I have seen the whole project from start to almost-finish. And I have to say, that things are really coming along!
When it comes to construction, I'm pretty much a six year old boy's brain in a 33 year old woman's body. I love all the various construction equipment, and could sit and watch them move earth around, break up concrete, and load rocks into trucks all day long. The power! The mobility! The excitement!
Every day is a surprise. One day I drove to work and the road was curving one way, and then I drove home after work and they had shifted the lanes over and things were totally different. I got on Briley by accident because I veered where I used to veer and it was an on-ramp instead of just a jog in the road!
But I back to the praise for the construction workers. They're really working hard and getting this project done. They work on Saturdays. They work early and late. They work at night with lights that are as bright as the sun. They hang from harnesses and balance on beams and eat dust for lunch and still keep plugging away at this big project that 98% of the people who drive on Elm Hill Pike every day would tell you will never be completed.
But I'm really seeing progress. I got on Briley Southbound and was on a whole new part of the road. They're pouring cement for the edge-of-road barriers so you can really see where the road will be, how the on- and off-ramps will work, and how they'll shift all the traffic on to the new bridge.
Maybe I'm a geek for being so excited about all of this. In fact, I'm almost sad to think that they're almost done. Erm, okay, maybe not. As much as I love construction, I love quickly flowing traffic even more.
When it comes to construction, I'm pretty much a six year old boy's brain in a 33 year old woman's body. I love all the various construction equipment, and could sit and watch them move earth around, break up concrete, and load rocks into trucks all day long. The power! The mobility! The excitement!
Every day is a surprise. One day I drove to work and the road was curving one way, and then I drove home after work and they had shifted the lanes over and things were totally different. I got on Briley by accident because I veered where I used to veer and it was an on-ramp instead of just a jog in the road!
But I back to the praise for the construction workers. They're really working hard and getting this project done. They work on Saturdays. They work early and late. They work at night with lights that are as bright as the sun. They hang from harnesses and balance on beams and eat dust for lunch and still keep plugging away at this big project that 98% of the people who drive on Elm Hill Pike every day would tell you will never be completed.
But I'm really seeing progress. I got on Briley Southbound and was on a whole new part of the road. They're pouring cement for the edge-of-road barriers so you can really see where the road will be, how the on- and off-ramps will work, and how they'll shift all the traffic on to the new bridge.
Maybe I'm a geek for being so excited about all of this. In fact, I'm almost sad to think that they're almost done. Erm, okay, maybe not. As much as I love construction, I love quickly flowing traffic even more.
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