Can Anybody Find Me?

Driving down the road in the Ford Taurus - wondering, as I sometimes do, who is this woman in the suit driving a sedan full of kids around? Can anybody find me? moans the car stereo. I think of Descartes' Meditations - that we may be dreaming - how do you know you are awake? Have you ever dreamt that you are asleep? And I think of the reality of making toast and getting dressed and commuting with kids and think how real and unreal it all is - I sometimes feel as if I am dreaming as I drive kids here and there.

"Is this Queen?" Frank suddenly asked, interrupting my existential query.

"Well, it's the band, Queen," I said.

"Who is the singer though?"

"It's George Michael."

"But who is usually the singer for Queen?"

"Freddie Mercury was the singer for Queen, but he died. George Michael sang with the band after their singer died."

"What did he die of?"

"AIDS."

"What's AIDS?"

Some days car rides are not long enough to discuss the things that need to be discussed.
I mean, my son wants to talk about a terminal disease and I want to talk about how in the world he recognized the song as a Queen song but knew that the singer was different.

I want to hear every single person and see every pair of hands.
Find me somebody to love.
Can anybody find me? Somebody to love?

That last line is really one line and one question, but sung with the Freddie Mercury phrasing, it becomes two questions.

Wish I May, Wish I Might

I was awake before the alarm went off this morning, so it was easy for me to get up and out of the house with the dog and we left for our walk almost an hour earlier than usual. For the first time since Daylight Savings Time, it was dark when we went out. I wore two sweatshirts and a jacket with a stocking cap under my hoodie. My cheeks felt cool, but it was a good cool - the kind that feels like perfect fall and reminds you how nice it is to be warm. The moonless night/morning was dark and the stars were bright and filled the sky. They caught me by surprise and I tried to remember the last time I have seen the stars so bright. The coolness makes them brighter.

The dog and I crunched through the leaves in the dark and I suddenly I saw a shooting star.

A wish! I wish that I can feel the way I feel right now all the time and forever.

I felt warmed with happiness - as if there really was a burning star in my pocket.

But as I walked further, the thoughts that caused me to be awake before the alarm went off came back and wrestled around with the star in my pocket. Falling stars are really meteors and not stars. And of course you can't feel warm and cool and happy and cozy and perfect all the time. You really shouldn't wish for things that you can't have. But it was really and truly the first thought that came into my head when I thought of a wish and while I can't feel that way all the time, I can feel that way sometimes and my real wish is that I remember that those moments come. Even on mornings that you are awake since you can't sleep.

The Shopocalypse

What Would Jesus Buy?

And you all think I am ranty about Christmas. :-)

I cannot wait for this movie. Fabulous stuff. I think I will go on Black Friday.

Novel Excerpt

A cheesey excerpt from One Lane Road. And it's cheesy. You have been warned! Michael and Heather are a brother and sister. Michael went back to the family ranch after college and Heather moved away (and married a doctor who got involved with steroids and professional sports scandals, and messy, messy, etc.). Heather recently moved home because of the mess with her husband.

--

Michael was leaned up against the truck when I came riding up on Laramie. I pulled her to a stop, swung down, and looped Laramie's reins over the bar on the side of the trailer.

"I swear, no hired man I have ever had is as hard on horses as you - ridin' her all the way out here at that pace and then expecting her to work all morning," he said. He poured me a cup of coffee from his thermos and handed it to me.

I tilted my head to examine him. He was grinning at me. I took the plastic cup and drank the scalding hot coffee quickly before it cooled in the early morning air. During calving in the early spring I had ridden in the pick up with him. There weren't a lot of choices when there were three foot drifts of snow and we were going out around the clock. But with spring our hours were more regular and I felt compelled me to saddle my horse and ride her, not put her in the horse trailer to haul her out to the pasture we were working in that day.

Laramie pulled at her reins to get closer to me and nuzzled my hair with her soft nose. She snorted on my face and her warm breath warmed me momentarily and then the moistness felt cool. My arms were warm from the exercise and my thighs were still warm from riding her. I held the cup of coffee in front of my nose - the only place on my body that horse back riding could not warm. It's crazy to me now that I went for years without riding a horse. I went for years thinking that exercise happened in a heated room at the health club with a rock and roll soundtrack and lycra. I went for years trying to forget the soft, curving hills covered with cattle. I went for years forgetting what it was like to get out of a warm bed and saddle a horse and ride that horse as fast as you could through the grass and then work all day outside.

"I don't think that Laramie has any complaints about the way I treat her," I said.

"No, I don't think she does," he admitted. "And other than wearing the horses out before we even get to work, I don't think I have ever had a hired man who I could count on as much as you and works as hard as you do."

"I would believe that," I said.

"Course, you're a big ol pain in the ass too. And if you're done with your coffee break, I think we'll get to work now. That is, if your horse ain't too wore out."

I shoved the plastic coffee cup into his chest and pushed him back into the horse trailer. He responded by pushing forward and wrapping his arms around me. We stood with my head buried into his coveralls that smelled of manure and sweat and gun powder.

"You didn't even hug me when dad died," I said to his chest.

He let go of me suddenly and walked to the back of the trailer to get Hi Ho out. He clicked commands to her as he backed her out and then he was up on her and off to the herd without looking back at me. I pulled Laramie's reins loose and hopped up on her back easily. I wiped the tears from my face with the back of my jacket and rode after my brother.

Wiki

Q: What do Jimmy Wales (founder of Wikipedia), me, and the main characters of my novel all have in common?

A: We were students at a one room school house! (Technically I went to a two room school house. But I count it.)

Somehow I need to incorporate that tidbit. I am thinking I will start each chapter with a wiki entry or a quotation from a famous one room school house student - Laura Ingalls Wilder, Alan Shepard (astronaut), Herbert Hoover...

God Bless America

Names have been changed to protect the innocent. And just to be clear, that means that "George Bush" really means "George Bush." Everything is absolutely true.

I am distraught. It happened unexpectedly and quickly and I am still processing my thoughts on this.

I made a quick trip to the grocery store this morning before breakfast and ran into Cindy, a foster parent that I know. I was the Guardian Ad Litem to Cindy's niece Thelma while Thelma's mom dealt with a pretty serious methamphetamine problem. Thelma was out of her mom's house for years and then went back to her mom and then her mom relapsed and she had to be taken away from her mom again and went to her aunt's. Mom went back to treatment for a second time, and Thelma was returned to her mom again. Things have gone really, really well for them. It's been about three years now and Thelma's mom has married a nice man and they have a one year old baby. I see Thelma fairly regularly since she actually goes to my kids' school. And I see Cindy at the grocery store and she usually comes over to give me a short update.

Thelma is the only child of a meth user that I know of that has ever been successfully returned to her mom. And frankly, I have thought of this family as one of the few families that I have been involved with that was truly successful in juvenile court.

I saw Cindy this morning and we waved at each other. Cindy then made a beeline for me and her face was wrinkling as she approached me. I felt my concern begin to rise up.

"How are things going?" I asked. "I saw Thelma and her mom at Fun Night a month ago and they looked really good."

"Thelma's mom got deployed to Iraq for a year," Patty said.

"Oh no!" I said.

"Yeah. So we have Thelma back again." She laughed an uncomfortable, high pitched laugh. "No one's dealing with this very well. Thelma's mom commented that she wasn't there for Thelma at one year of age and now she is going to miss her second child at that age too."

I have been on the verge of tears since I left the grocery store this morning. I am really trying to understand this. So she kicks meth and mothers her child and gets married and has another baby and now she is being sent away from her family. What's the point? I mean the real point. There isn't one that is acceptable to me.

"Isn't there some time of exception that could be made for her?" Bill asked when we talked about this over coffee.

There's not. I mean, this is one family out of thousands that are in similar situations. We are taking mothers and fathers away from their children so that they can potentially die and even if they live they are not there for their kids on a daily basis and other family has to pick up that responsibility. I think this child and her baby sister are permanently damaged by this separation from their mother. For what? For George Bush's War on Terror.

My favorite part of Fahrenheit 9/11 was Michael Moore asking the very basic question to politicians who support the war in Iraq, why not sign your kid up? I mean, if you support this war and think it is a good thing, then why not encourage your child to join the Army? Why not take care of your grand children so that your daughter can go to Iraq to "fight terror." It just won't happen. Because this war is a giant mess and no one wants their own children to go to Iraq. That's why we target poor people with few options to get them to join the military. George Bush has two healthy daughters who would be wonderful assets to the U.S. Military. You'd think that he would encourage that career option for them. Think of the parades and attention!

I thought of little Thelma and wished there was something I could do for her. Her stapdad and her aunt and uncle and grandma all live here in town and I know that she is loved and taken care of. Thelma's baby sister is likewise loved and taken care of. But dammit. They should have their mommy. A year is too long to go without your mom.