Life on the Serengeti

This WILL be the title of my dating book. No, really.

The sum of this blog? I realize you've got to watch out for the hyenas.

To set the stage: my date and I are at a bar, watching the antics of 60 or so "Santas" (in various degrees of Santa/elfness). We are having fun - various people stop by our table as we are pretty much in the pathway to the "watering hole" if you will. There's a lot of banter and laughter.

It isn't until about a week later I realize that one particular woman kept coming up to our table to chat. She was smiley and all, but I couldn't understand why she didn't just stay with her group. At her third visit, she handed us pens with her business contact information on them and talked about where the store is located, etc.

Ahhhh, sneaky. While this cat was taking it all in, the hyena snuck up and gave my date her contact information. Bravo hyena.

And the date? Well, during the date I remember thinking he'd be a good guy to have as a friend. Perhaps that's why I wasn't on guard - there didn't seem any reason to "defend my turf." And he is on his way to being a good friend. So I guess the lioness and the hyena both did ok.

Sort of Like the Circle of Life

I am reluctantly dating (again). My friends say it is good for me - personally, I find it akin to heading out to the Serengeti without any weapons - predator and prey all rolled into one.

I may share some war stories - no names of course to protect the innocent and the truly guilty.

Stay tuned.

Another flight story.

Last night's late flight in from DC. A 50 seater with 41 tired passengers. After cruising along for awhile, the pilot announces there is one of the best meteor showers he's ever seen visible from every window.

And he's right. I move to a window seat and shield the window with my hands to block the light behind me. Outside, we are above the clouds - a complete blanket that glows with patches of luminescence. Overhead, the dark sky is filled with stars and oh! There's one! And another! And another! Shooting stars surround the plane and I am completely engrossed in a fairytale world.

I start counting - over 40 falling stars before we plunge back through the clouds and come home.

A Dog's Life

For some reason, whether it is the impending snow, seeing people walk their dogs, or just a quirk, I've been thinking about a dog we had in our family years ago. Her name was Pepper - a sheepdog/bouvier mix.

What I keep thinking about is how she loved, and I mean loved, to run in the fields down by the river near our house. Pepper especially loved running in the snow, and would often come barreling up behind someone and clip them in the knees causing them to fall (displaying a rather human playfulness).

Anyway, Pepper would run - tongue & tail wagging, until she literally could not walk. My father would then pick her up and carry her home. I remember him doing that so many times.

Pepper's pure joy and go-for-broke pace makes me think - I wonder about that "all out" nature - pushing until literal exhaustion. I'd like to think of living life that way. Pushing and running at full tilt - tongue & tail wagging - until one just can't anymore.

Anything less seems half-hearted. But how does one embrace and foster the "inner-dog"?

Post-Thanksgiving Thanks

I'm thankful the Muppets were created:


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tgbNymZ7vqY

What are you thankful for?

Life Detritus

"Detritus - the remains of something that has been destroyed or broken up."

I'm noticing a lot of "life detritus" has accumulated in my house. For example, every time I would get a drinking glass from the cupboard, I saw a mug I had bought years before at the urging of my then boyfriend. It was a "pay $5 now, and refills are $1 for life" kind of deal.

The sight of it always reminds me that I had not ever used it after buying it. It also reminded me of the boyfriend. So, the sight of the mug was a negative memory of a waste of time and money (for both the mug & the boyfriend). But yet, it sat in the cupboard, high on a shelf - since 2005!

I'm working on getting rid of "life detritus" - the mug was the first to go.

Veteran's Day

In Canada, where I grew up, it is expected that everyone wears a poppy on their coat by Nov. 11, to mark Veteran's Day. The poppies are a symbol of Flanders Fields - it is also expected that every Canadian schoolchild reads "In Flanders Fields."

Strangely enough, there's a good link and history found through the Arlington Cemetery website:
http://www.arlingtoncemetery.net/flanders.htm

Perhaps someday, we won't need to be reminded that WWI was not the war to end all wars.

Today is not that day.


In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

— Lt.-Col. John McCrae (1872 - 1918)

A friend introduced me to "Green Fields of France" - v. touching.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZrQnnZJ68Xo

"Leaving" Things Alone

Ok, this was to be my rant about the increasing rudeness and stupidity of people, especially in airports and flying. But, as I drove home from the airport Sunday, I was struck by the colors of the last few leaves - one small tree on my street still proudly displaying its red flames while the other trees are already bare.

And I let my rant go and simply appreciated the little bits of beauty.

Enjoy the last moments of fall.

In The Beginning

It all started with Bob. May be it all ends with Bob too, I don't know. But, just as I feel compelled to blog again, I feel compelled to start with Bob's story.

Below is my 1st blog. It's not particularly well written, nor do I expect my others to be. In the words of Cicero, then T.S. Eliot (hey credit given where it's due): "If I had more time, I would have written a shorter letter."

But then, in the also immortal words of Blade Runner: "Too bad she won't live forever! But then again, who does?"


Sunday, December 16, 2007

A Holleyday Message - Part 1 Current mood: hopeful Category: Life

Ok, for you Sandy, I'll make these public! Consider it my gift to you.

Holleyday Part 1

I've meant to write this for a while now and it seems appropriate at this time of year when so many people bounce between joy and sadness.

Our office shares a building with another company. One of the employees of that company was Bob Holley. Bob was about 5'6" but as muscular as could be - basically all muscle - he worked out a lot. He seemed as wide as tall, a human wall.

Bob was a jovial person - never at a loss for a practical joke, a zinger, or a story. You could never predict what tale you might hear from Bob – his life was full of medieval re-enactments and gaming, but he had also served in the Navy and traveled the world.

I guess it is more than a year since Bob died of an aneurysm. Now, the point of this story isn't how tragic it is that a 38-year man goes from being healthy to dying in about a month. It isn't how tragic it is that he left a wife he dearly loved and a 6-year old daughter.

This brief story is to share some thoughts that might help you through the season, or maybe through life.

You see, Bob shared a comment with me a couple weeks before he was hospitalized. Over lunch one day, Bob told me that he, "wasn't done with life yet." He said he wanted to do more; he wanted to travel more; he still wanted to explore the world.

More still, Bob wanted his wife to come with him – he said when he'd announce a little day trip or surprise outing, his wife always suggested he take their daughter. But Bob said he wanted his wife to come along or perhaps make it just the two of them sometimes. He loved her and saw her as more than just a mother of their child, more than a "wife." He wanted to connect with her as her own person like they did before the rest of life came along. He wanted to continue to share these new experiences with her.

I asked Bob if he had told his wife just what he told me. He said he hadn't – he hadn't been able to find the right time. I told him he had to tell her how much she meant to him and how he wanted her to be an active participant in his journey.

I don't know if he ever got the chance to do this before he died.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

A Holleyday Message Part 2 Category: Life

Holleyday Part 2

When Bob died so suddenly, the grief was expected. What was surprising though was who grieved. You could assume his friends and family would be stricken of course. And his coworkers too.

But the sadness and tears poured in pretty much worldwide. On the newspaper-hosted webpage for Bob's death notice, I stopped counting the posts after they reached into the high 100s – I think there were 700 comments when I stopped looking because I cried when I read them.

And grief came from unexpected corners. A week after the funeral, a shy clerk at the local 7-11 stopped me in an aisle. "You worked with Bob," she said, "I'm so sorry." But she was the one with tears in her eyes.

I asked her how she knew Bob. She explained that she painted as a hobby and that Bob had really encouraged her and had given her suggestions on how she could get her work shown. I don't even know her name and have been going to that store for years.

So, a clerk at 7-11 you chat with when you buy your morning coffee, people you visit once on a road trip years before. And Bob, in our brief lunches and hallway hellos, had an impact on me. An impact I'm now sharing with you. Who would have thought that this ordinary man, living his ordinary life, could have had such a huge effect on so many people?

. . .

So, my point in sharing Bob stories is to leave you with some simple thoughts. I can't say they're mine, they really came from Bob:

· Keep your curiosity about what the world might have in store for you; take the unexpected side trips that spring up during your regularly scheduled life – and invite along those you love.

· Tell those you love that you love them – frequently. There is no time to do so later.

· Live your ordinary, unassuming life knowing that everything you do does matter – you just won't know who it will matter to.

And, ask yourself – are you going to have a holiday or a Holleyday?