GETT MADD

I just returned from the Celebration of Life Breakfast at MADD's National Conference their 30th Anniversary. The feature presentation was a slide show of photos of children, husbands, wives, sisters, brothers, mothers, fathers, cousins, uncles, aunts, friends, co-workers, all smiling. All buried.

I couldn't let this moment go by without telling you about the amazing people I've had the honor to meet. I marvel in the courage, tenacity and motivation they have to tackle each day as a victim, survivor or advocate of the impact of drunk driving. I'll throw distracted driving into the mix - because no one should have to lose their life or capacity to live fully because of "LOL" or WTF" or "TTYL" - and certainly not because of a mojito, chardonnay or bud light, or mascara.

I ask God for the grace I do not deserve. I have made poor choices in the past. The culture was different. I am ashamed. I am changed. I am determined. Thirty years ago wrote about Tim Smith, the 4 year old I babysat, who was killed by a drunk driver. He'd be a young man now. Maybe the father of a 4 year old. He counsels me from the right hand of the Father.

I asked God for help last night. He has answered with a painful reminder of the fragility of life and the strength of the human spirit and the bond of human touch. I reach out to you. To say I love you. And whatever you may be struggling with, my prayers are with you. God Bless.

The Kids are Alright - Youth Group Adventures

I attended the wedding of one of "my kids" last night. "My kids" are the teenagers that were in the youth group I was honored to have the opportunity to lead from the mid 90's to the mid 2000's. There must have been more 200 young people that, between 7th and 12th grades, shuffled through the youth area in its requisite basement gym location. So.... when did you guys grow up?

During his toast, the best man cited 2 of our work trips among his best memories of the "groom". I have to admit, I didn't know they threw pennies out of the back of the church van. I'm sure they could tell me a lot of things I didn't know about. Colorado, Maine, South Carolina, West Virginia, New Mexico, Louisiana ... these are the some of the states where we made our mark - built houses, fortified tin roofs, poured foundations, cleared land, leared about tolerance and diversity, sleeping on wrestling mats and in tents and having flat tires on turnpikes.

Do you want to hear the stories you didn't hear about in the all church slide show. My first work trip was Pagaosa Springs Colorado. We chartered a bus instead of the mini van caravan. Being new at this whole thing, I thought I would introduce everyone to my "hip" version of youth ministry through my love of movies. I thought we'd start off with a comedy from my day... a little film about teen hijinx and growing up...

Lesson learned #1, if you haven't seen a movie for awhile, watch it again before showing it to your church youth group on a bus. Animal House may not have been the best choice. I'm sure I worked it into a discussion about morality, pre-marital sex and censorship.

Lesson learned #2 - when you cross the border into Canada, make darned sure they are going to let you back in. On our way to Maine, we stopped at Niagra Falls, and wanted to be able to say we'd been in Canada. We piled into the 15 passenger van and land ho, took a picture under the 'Welcome to Ontario' sign. The US border crossing guard assured us we did not need papers to return. The Canadian crossing guard had other ideas. "This is not just a bridge. It's an international border." became our catch phrase for the trip. Thankfully I did not have to call the pastor back home and ask for bail money.

Lesson learned #3 - There is an Almost Heaven West Virginia, and yes, it is. And it is not a good idea to use oil based paint in a paint fight.

Lesson learned #4 - The Oklahoma City bombing memorial is a somber reminder of hatred fed by fear, rhetoric and ignorance. But leaving something precious to you at the wall will leave a lasting impression of peace and hope for mankind to keep trying.

Lesson learned #5 - Dateline Taos, New Mexico: an unplanned, emotionally charged crisis is an ideal training tool for team building, perserverance and conflict resolution. In short, we were staying at an army barracks that was robbed and vandalized in a horrific manner. With shaken adults, devestated youth and a job half done, do we stay or do we go? Table talk goes from who likes who and the latest tunes to spiritual warfare and truly meaningful discussion of WWJD. They decided that the crime was a desparate act of evil forces, and we would not be moved from our task. I'm quite sure it was a life changing event for most of us. We prayed, we stayed, we built, we kicked satan's ass. And I believe at least one person got a belly button piercing without my knowing. Hey, I can only be so many places at once!

Lesson learned #6 - Dulac Louisiana is hot hot hot. And the tin roofs are hotter hotter hotter. Air conditioning is one of man's most amazing inventions. And people who have nothing will give you everything and not ask for anything in return.

Ohhhhh, I could go on. I could, as they say, write a book. And this doesn't even cover the stuff that happened right here in Illinois, in the church basement, or at East Bay Camp. Each young person that crossed the threshold, holds a place in my heart. I will never forget you and always pray for you. God bless you. And congratulations Jake and Sarah.

Can you go home again?

I grew up in "the west end" of Decatur. That's what we all called it. And still do. "The west end" had a reputation of being where the rich people lived. Which really cracks me up, since I was ANYTHING but. However, there are lots of beautiful old brick houses and as a child I made up all sorts of fantasies about the people who lived in them.

"The west end" comes together on its westest end at Kiwanis Park, the gathering place of all gathering places. Come one, come all, for ball, triangle slides, bondoogle, the stand (candy), ping pong tables (I don't recall ever seeing ping pong being played there), and simply hanging out. The "woods" swallowed the teenagers, and spit them back out, stumbling and blurry-eyed.

The Wonder Years gang had nothin' on "The West End" kids, now nostalgic adults, basking in the memories of our very own wonder years. Places like Kiwanis Park, Fairview Park, the ice rink, the gravel pit, Shoes, Woodrow, The Dog House, The Front Porch, the Bikini tree, were bastions of peace from the real world and I guess I wasn't the only one who found respite there.

West End Decatur is hosting a reunion on August 7 at Kiwanis Park. Do I go? I would love to be there, to observe. But to interact? That scares me for some reason. And I don't know why.

Miss Independent asks for help

I finally asked for help at the gym. After about 10 weeks, mind you, of trying to convince myself I knew what I was doing, I took the machine tour, only to find out I had been doing back and chest machines when I thought I had been doing arm machines. No wonder my neck and shoulders hurt so damn bad! And I thought the arm workout machines were pretty much the same thing as the others, so I skipped them entirely. So much for Michelle Obama arms this summer!

I hate asking for help. With anything. I have to be all 'Miss Independent'. Apparently I've always been that way. I can be stubborn, self-righteous and controlling. All with a smile on my face and a song in my heart. This often works against me. Pride goeth before my fall all the time. "I can eat this cake if I want to, because no one can tell me I can't, because I am my own person and I'll show you!", and so on.

I am not my own best advisor. Self-soothing or rewarding with sugar and starch is not just a monkey, it's a big ugly baboon with a gross red butt. My excuses of being too tired, too hot, blah blah blah to exercise are as melodiously hypnotic as a Brahms lullaby. Oh my gosh, could it be... I am human? I need help? I need support? I can't do it myself?

So many friends (and special props to Kate), have helped me get this far, and I even tho I may resist, I appreciate it more than you will ever know. Thank you. I love you all. Dammit.

SPF 30 my ass!

It's summer 1976. The USA proudly celebrates its 200th birthday, the sacrifices made to form our democracy. But I'm 14 and clueless - I have one thing on my mind. Getting a good tan. Oh sure, it may look like we're just laying around reading magazines. But let me tell you it is WORK, with skeels required. I even took jobs based on how I could improve my tan.... detassling, walking beans, lawn mowing.

My aunt Janie and my friend Sheryl's mom were my mentors. They had raised the bar in tanning with their time commitment and creative tools and processes. My aunt was known to stop time itself for her tanning regimen. Sheryl's mom perfected the foil lined refrigerator box.

Top 10 competencies for a good tanner circa 1976 include:
1. knowing to use only Johnson & Johnson Baby Oil
2. knowing when/how to turn the chair/towel towards the best sun angle
3. knowing when to turn over, a good tanner knows both sides need coverage
4. knowing the best magazines to read (if you are by yourself, you can indulge in Seventeen. which is really your favorite, but if you're in public you'd better be seen reading Glamour or Cosmo.
5. keeping the towel on the chair when you get up or sit down or keep the chair from collapsing.
6. how to unsnap and resnap your bikini top while laying (lying?) on your tummy
7. how to adjust the antena on your transitor radio for the best reception on the AM stations
8. how to free your mind for hours for endless hours of appearing to do nothing
9. if at the pool, how to maneuver slipping into the pool to cool off during adult swim, when all the pesky kids are at the snack bar
10. Never, ever, wear a hat.

Today, I felt 14 again. Launching the new lounger, laying in the sun, listening to, appropriately, songs from summer in the 70's. Lots of new job aids have been created since 1976; hair clips, bottled water, cd players with radios, US magazine, and something called SPF. Searching through the house for lotion, I found SPF30 and SPF 8. I'm older, more mature, with aging skin - so of course I should opt for the SPF 30. NOT! For this one, priceless, perfect Friday afternoon, I'm a renegade, and I shout "SPF 30 my ass!" It was glorious. Carry on my wayward SUN!

Slowwwwwly losing it.

Well, I just bought a new pair of jeans 2 sizes smaller than most of my other pants. Not to be confused with "I just bought a new pair of size 2 jeans" - it ain't no Michael Thurmond 6 week body makeover, but it's mine. It's more like the dedicated but not so much she doesn't cheat once in awhile body makeover. I can tell when I told my boyfriend, Rick, that my jeans were 2 sizes smaller, he was thinking "Reeeeeally? - Hmmm, I just don't see it." But he said "Good job hon!" with an enthusiastic smile - God bless him.

I lost my work out partner to busy motherhood duties, so getting myself to the gym as often has been a challenge. However, once I'm there, I get a better workout because I don't talk so much! When I have a bad day at work I still think I deserve a concrete mixer for the drive home. And I can't seem to shake the rule that food day food doesn't have calories. Or that I can't have pizza... because it's Friday afterall and that's what we always have on Friday and it wouldn't be fair to Rick not to have pizza.

So for the next six weeks, I'll continue my behavior modification therapy and trips to the gym. I'll keep dancing with the stars and breaking furniture. I'll keep trying to have either potatoes or bread but not both. Ect. Ect. Ect. I appreciate you all keeping me honest, knowing you are out there helps a lot! Love you!

A Gleek from WAY back

I love Glee. It never fails to stir up old memories. These trips down memory lane are really important to me and so are the people along the road. I don't know if I'm just weird, or if other people have random memories that sustain them - for example, years of playing records in my room by myself or with a friend or in their room. Doing homework. Crying. Daydreaming. Singing. Making up dances. Just laying on the bed. Our rooms. Ahhhhh. With the "Don't Trust Anyone Over 30" sign on the wall.

This started about age 4. Some well worn albums or 45s are Winnie the Pooh, Mary Poppins Soundtrack, Sound of Music Soundtrack, The Partridge Family, Bobby Gentry, Johnny Cash, Herb Albert and the Tijuana Brass, Glen Campbell, Roberta Flack (can you tell these were my mom's :-) Cher, Gilbert O'Sullivan, Funny Girl, Funny Lady, Bette Midler, Simon and Garfunkel, Diana Ross, Barry Manilow, Chicago, Olivia Newton John, Elton John's Good Bye Yellow Brick Road, Godspell, Best of Bread side 1, and I rented classical albums from the library. I guess I didn't think they were worth buying! Of course, there are many more.

For someone who can't sing a note - music really helps me expunge emotion, or celebrate life, love and All That Jazz. What helps you?