This week I have been thinking about two words and the meaning behind them. The words are ‘Savor’ and ‘Relief.’ I have also been thinking about a certain Star Wars character but that comes later.
The perfect example of savor was a recent evening I spent during my trip home in April to attend my grandmother’s funeral. I spent a Thursday evening with my brother Judd, his girlfriend Sunshine and my mom. We went to a restaurant called the Paddock Club in Elkhart Lake, a nearby town that is a home to several vacation resorts. Judd knows the owner through his work and raved to us about the food. The restaurant was dimly lit and quiet, with only one or two other tables occupied. We were seated in the corner by the large picture window. We ordered several small plates and shared them. They gave us bites full of flavor and freshness. We shared entrees as well and it was evident that the food was made with skill and care. It was easy to savor every bite. I felt my shoulders relax for the first time since I had gotten the sad news.
It was so relaxing. We basked in the glow of making it through the difficult days and having spent some bonding time with family. We were tired but we savored the evening. You would think the specially made crème brulee would have been the highlight of the evening but it really was the atmosphere and company and conversation. Nothing intruded on our evening. Judd knows his wines and picked ones to complement the food. The chef/owner came out to meet us, was most friendly and made us feel like she had cooked especially for us. Just what I needed after an emotionally exhausting day. It was a night to savor.
In a recent conversation with my friend Traci, we compared stories of being increasingly jumpy, easily startled and more and more bothered by the noise in our new environment. In my case, I’m not sure if it is old age or stress or part of the process of becoming acclimated to California life. Perhaps I underestimated the impact of moving to such a large city and the lack of quiet spaces and moments, as well as the impact of the sheer number of people here all sharing space. It easily saps my energy and I heartily miss the green spaces and places that ring with the absence of bustle.
Fearless Hero bought a cd of a rain storm on Itunes for me. I have it on my Mp3 player to soothe me in times of over-stimulation. I am listening to it right now to block the noise of the mumbling homeless man near me and the titterings of the tweens on the other side. I can still hear them but they sound farther away now and intrude less (though the homeless man is in inadvertent danger of mooning me at any second).
Luckily our apartment in the El is quiet and we are not routinely bothered by the nearby airport noise. Our neighbors are mostly quiet as well. Except for the slightly psychotic dog who came with the new people who moved in across the street. He expresses his anxiety or dissatisfaction frequently by barking nonstop. Fearless Hero fearlessly went out to shush him a few times and was successful in getting him to quiet down for awhile.
Part of having frequent migraines involves an increased sensitivity to noise and light. There are days when my loud-talking boss (but very nice) or bright computer screen, the clanging of dishes or running faucet at home are painful for me. I feel like I have gotten more sensitive and worry that soon I will need a protective bubble or pseudo space suit to insulate me from the environment. The book I read recently on people with sensitive nervous systems like mine suggested getting ear plugs to wear not only at loud events. I scoffed at the time. I am repenting my scoffiness (scoffnicity?) Some days at work I long for my noise cancelling headphones that I use on airplanes and the cocoon of dark and quiet of our teeny tiny bedroom.
This increasing affliction was evidenced last weekend when Fearless Hero and I went to dinner and a movie. We had been productive during the day and finally experienced some relief by finishing a few wedding tasks. We wanted to relax and celebrate and enjoy the relief. I started early by meeting Laurie and Traci for a crepe (girlfriends + dessert + conversation = happiness).
We headed to a shopping complex that has a theatre and several restaurants. There were lots of people waiting. We were tantalizingly close to actually being served at the bar of our place of choice but our cloak of invisibility must have been working because we were ignored and finally left the loud restaurant. We found a small counter service café around the corner. The food was average but we had the place to ourselves. Besides a few customers stopping in to pick up a pie or take out there was only the two of us. It was lovely.
Afterward we went to see the movie “Up.” It is the latest film from Pixar and the animation and story are both exceptional. Once again, the movie manages to be touching without making you angry afterwards for being manipulated. There are no cheap tricks, only sweet moments and several belly laughs. We saw it in 3-D, which was a first for me. The first few minutes of the film I was concerned that the images of things flying at me would be the antithesis of relaxation but after adjusting the film was a joy.
The rest of our weekend was spent with equally enjoyable moments. We had brunch with Fearless Hero’s parents. They were happy to report a lottery winning of over a thousand dollars. The joy of this was tempered by the fact that if Fearless Hero the First had entered one of his usual numbers I would be writing this to you from our tropical island or at least on a 24k gold plated Laptop. 25 million dollars was so close yet so far. Fearless Hero the First has recently retired from over 50 years as a nurse. I’m excited to see what things he will do to enjoy his free time and cannot help but think of the countless people he has touched in his long career.
That afternoon found us at a local sports bar with other Lakers fans watching game 5 of the NBA basketball finals with our friend Ken. I think I counted 18 TVs that we could see from our seats at the pool table that had been covered with wooden boards to convert it to a table. Fearless Hero’s wishes came true and the Lakers won their 15th championship.
Monday morning had us getting up early to hit the local sporting goods store for Lakers championship gear. Wednesday morning had Fearless Hero getting up early to catch the bus to meet some friends to attend the parade in the Lakers honor. They made it to the Coliseum, along with an estimated 250,000 other folks who came to that ending point or lined the streets on the parade route. Fearless Hero made it home by 6:30pm. He took shower and then went to “lay down.” He laid on the bed spread eagle on top of the covers and passed out. He looked like road kill. He didn’t move. I contemplated holding a mirror under his nose to see if he was still breathing. He did get up later but was not in full possession of his faculties. Moral of this story: Victory can be exhausting. He may now take the two Lakers flags that have adorned his truck since the play-offs but then again, he may not.
In other relief related news, I am happy to report that my wedding dress has arrived. I went the non traditional route of getting the dress I had picked out and tried on at a bridal shop in Milwaukee by ordering it online. It was a bit nerve wracking and I confess to dreams of its non arrival. I had to follow the site’s size chart and even after getting professionally measured was not confident that I had ordered the right size. It was due to arrive at the end of July, which would give me just enough time to get it altered.
It was a signature required package and I came home to the familiar UPS sticker on the door. I called the next morning to make arrangements to pick it up and experienced moments of panic after the friendly recorded voice informed me that the package had been delivered. I rushed to the door to go out to the garage to look for it when I saw the box sitting safely in our living room. It had been rescued from its place in between our doors by Fearless Hero when he returned home from his usual Monday night round of volleyball. I’m not sure who signed for it or who put it by our door. I picture my fairy godmother in her pink bubble coming down to intervene.
I opened it with a mixture of tears and laughter. I had to wait until I got home that night to try I on. I was able to congratulate myself for ordering the right size and was immediately eager to get it altered. The whole day I savored the relief of one more worry erased and in anticipation of enjoying trying it on and visiting with it again. I imagined that I could physically feel the relief.
I texted people like a madwoman to share this feeling. I couldn’t tell anyone at work since I have not shared our re-wedding plans with anyone there. This is because I cannot use any vacation time until I pass my six month probationary period. Yep, I planned a wedding 2000 miles away without even knowing if I could attend it myself. This is why my shoulders are up around my ears all the time. I have my six month review on Monday morning, after which I hope to be experiencing some significant relief and putting in a request for vacation.
Of course relief usually has an expiration date and so we have moved on to other things on our list. Bridal brain mush comes and goes with intermittent symptoms that include dizziness, loss of appetite, increased distractibility, moodiness, irritability, and delusions of grandeur. Questions that still need to be resolved are: To veil or not to veil? Shoes - comfortable or cute? Just how many pictures do we want? Will we ever decide on a cake design? Just how indecisive can we be?
Besides needing some earplugs and pseudo space suit, I may also need a personal bodyguard/buffer. For example, I have to regularly deal with a few parents at work that are, well, difficult. Obstreperous. Irrational. And not because they are suffering from bridal brain mush. And then there are the regular demands and frustrations of the job.
Today we had a meeting to discuss the appropriate guidelines to assess families for a particular service. There were activities designed to get all our teams discussing. We revisited the difficulties and old arguments that come up whenever we are required to do these assessments. When we convened to the large group discussion, I was eager for resolution to the questions and as well as guidance going forward. We were then told that the point of the exercise was to highlight that there are no right answers, that if its difficult and an individual process. Well, hell, I certainly didn’t need a two hour meeting to tell me that. Just give me, oh, about 2 seconds to make that assessment. Hey, thanks for the update and the free condescension thrown in. The time served not only to frustrate us further and was a complete waste of time.
While we are not a government agency, we have a contract with the state’s Department of Developmental Services. They reimburse us for the case management that we do for our clients. Therefore our case work must be documented to keep track of the happenings but also to get reimbursement. We are required to “bill’ for a certain amount of hours per day. I spent the last hour of the day today meeting with a manager to handle some issues for several clients but was told I couldn’t bill for it. Not time wasted certainly but being bound by such considerations can easily bread a culture of focusing on the things that keep our stats up as to not get in trouble at review time for not billing enough hours (Counselor = Lawyer - expensive law degree - prestige) instead of focusing on the human side of things. Yet if I wouldn’t have followed up on these activities I would similarly have been reprimanded. So, hmmmm.
There was a quote from last blog posting to the effect that bureaucracies are incapable of kindness. The longer I work at my job the more fearful I am of that state of mind. I recently received a belated birthday present from a parent of one of my clients, a gesture of appreciation of the support she feels I have given her and her family. I will keep it as a reminder of what is the most important part of the job.
Anyway, during stupid meetings like that or when dealing with parents or when the world overwhelms I need someone to be a buffer. The best candidate that I can think of is Chewbacca, Han Solo’s intrepid partner from Star Wars. He is physically intimidating, yet loyal and true. He’s a strong skilled warrior. He will definitely have my back in all situations. And he’s got ammo. I used to have a great picture of him from a magazine, pointing a gun and looking intimidating. I filed it away somewhere when I moved. It’s on my To Do list to find that picture and hang it up at work. That is, until I can arrange for him to be my buffer full time. I mean, a Fairy Godmother is good but kind of low on the intimidation quotient, what with the pink bubble and all. Fearless Hero would also be excellent at this job (Chewbacca = Fearless Hero - fuzziness - ammo + sweetness + me) but he's already employed.
Right now I am savoring my Friday night and am relieved that I made it through the week. Savoring these things: a dinner, a victory, a wedding dress, a kind gesture, artificially rain soaked moments, a joyful movie, desserts with friends, are the only relief from the general craziness right now. I wish you many moments of the same respite and deep satisfaction.
Sign from the Universe
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
White Chocolate Mocha
Wow, that’s good. Who knew white chocolate and coffee would be genius together? Coming to you live from a new venue, Catalina Coffee Company in Redondo Beach. The large room is filled with scruffy mismatched wingback chairs and couches, little tables, lamps, bookshelves, and a big fireplace. It has a nice vibe and their beverages are served in comforting big white ceramic mugs.
I really want a brownie too but the ones they have in the case are still in the 9x13 pan they were baked in. I know I could go home and whip up a pan just like it right now so I can’t bring myself to actually buy one. I recently made a batch to satisfy a craving. The recipe I used was pretty good but I will work on tweaking it some more. The secret is to toast the nuts beforehand and then sprinkle them on top of the brownie batter before you bake it. They stay crunchy that way. The smell of baking brownies can lift any spirit yet they can hardly be called a healthy option.
I guess it is the tyranny of dichotomy. That is a phrase heard several times during the training session I just completed at work. New Staff Orientation or NSO, an acronym that causes fear and loathing to whoever hears it. Which is saying something since I work at an agency with an alarming preponderance of acronyms and employees who think nothing of making statements with seven or eight of them in a row, leading to a disorienting alphabet soup.
The title New Staff Orientation is really a misnomer since this training doesn’t contain the information about how to perform your day to day job. It is a seminar on the history of the regional centers like the one where I work and the overarching philosophies our agency is legally and morally required to follow in it’s practices of case management in the lives of people with disabilities.
The executive director for the agency has been called alternately, and sometimes in the same breath, as “visionary” and “dragon lady.” During my first week of work my supervisor made the following disturbing statement: “You know Meryl Streep in the movie “The Devil Wears Prada”? Well, our director is a little like that character.”
Whoo hoo. Welcome to Harbor Regional Center.
Since this visionary dragon runs the training there is a certain aura and mythology that surrounds it. Adhere to the following advice before the first session: Don’t wear jeans, Don’t under any circumstances be late, and if you value your job, Don’t bring a cell phone. She likes to call on people randomly and demands slavish attention and understated but intense enthusiasm.
There was homework and group projects and visits to sites in the community. There was a time or two that I felt like I was back in the seventh grade and Sister Marilyn was on the warpath. Two people in my group had never met anyone with a disability before so it was a lot of new experiences for them.
The sessions were held in our largest conference room. I also call it the Igloo. It is insanely cold in there. Even the men, traditionally less afflicted with the chills, keep their coats on. Last time I had a training in that location led by someone slightly more warm and fuzzy, I brought my fleece blanket with me. Seriously.
All of this culminated in a final group presentation. We were told to “make it fun.” I had trouble interpreting exactly what this meant. Here’s why.
One of our sessions had the different groups we were divided into for the duration competing to answer questions and in the absence of buzzers like in game shows such as Jeopardy we were given an animal noise to make. My group was the pigs so we were supposed to oink loudly to be called on to answer. This was “fun.“ I sat there, shivering and a few things popped into my partially thawed mind:
1. How old am I?
2. Did I take acid this morning?
3. Why did I take a job where the accepted idea of fun is to make animal sounds?
4. Are there any children in the vicinity?
Since the answer to the last question was "no" I resolved not to make a peep. Sorry, I mean a sound. It was a line in the sand for me. Standards must be maintained. I’m not sure what standard that is but I am going to maintain it. If I was in a room full of children I have been known to make a complete fool of myself without a second thought. Here it is a different story altogether. Besides I think my vocal cords were frozen.
A group member or two were a bit irritated with me as my lack of vocal assistance made it difficult for our oinking to overcome the cows behind us (it is very easy to moo very loudly) and I struggled to control my facial expression as not to give away my exasperation as a debate began by the complaining sheep who claimed it was difficult to baa as loudly as the moo-ers and that their underperformance was due to the nature of their assigned animal sound.
I did not oink. We did not win. I did not care.
Besides this ridiculous shenanigans I did learn some valuable things, some of which was related to the history of the regional centers.
It was only forty years ago that people with disabilities received very few services or supports and their families basically had two options: keep their disabled child at home and figure out how to provide them with the care and supervision they needed or commit them to a state hospital, where they would basically be warehoused, often in sub human conditions.
Schools were not required to provide any education to these children. There was a social stigma associated with having a child with a disability and their futures were universally considered to be bleak.
A landmark law, the Lanterman Act, was passed by the California legislature, and the regional center system was created with help by a bipartisan committee. It placed the state’s responsibility for people with disabilities at diagnosis instead of if and when they entered a state hospital.
What is shocking is that this is really was not that long ago. Parents were the driving force for this movement. They created advocacy and support organizations that lobbied for services for people with disabilities and their families. The sense of shame and social stigma was addressed when President Kennedy openly discussed his disabled sister and became involved with the creation of programs for people with special challenges.
It wasn’t until 1971 that the Supreme Court affirmed the right to education at public expense for children with disabilities. Congress passed Individuals with Disabilities Education Act in 1975 which created free and individualized education in the least restrictive environment and thereby enabled my former life as an interpreter for hearing impaired children.
These families and various other groups continued to fight for rights and services. We have shifted from an emphasis on "fixing" them to the belief that people with disabilities can live, learn, work and socialize in the environment of their choice as long as supports are given.
These groups are up against the cultural belief that people with disabilities are not as worthy to as rich of a life as we are and that they are fortunate instead of entitled to receive the supports they need to have a good quality of life. We recently had a speaker at work who spoke about all the jobs performed in the children’s hospital she manages by people with disabilities. These individuals perform better than their regularly developing coworkers due to their unique talents. She described how accommodations made for them have lead to an improvement in the overall systems of the various departments.
California is the only state that offers the regional center system and guarantees these services to its residents. The 21 regional centers service more than 200,000 individuals and their families with developmental disabilities, epilepsy, cerebral palsy and autism. The supports provided by the regional centers has enabled countless people to live with their families and in the community instead of in facilities and enriched their lives in equally countless ways.
California’s voters recently voted down several propositions meant to raise extra money to balance the budget. We have a 21 billion dollar deficit, which is a scary thing for the 8th largest economy in the world. It is scary for our clients as the deficit must now be ameliorated by cuts in state services, and scary too, frankly, for people with jobs like mine.
I recently started a new book. In the second chapter the main character’s mother states, “Bureaucracy nullifies kindness at every step.” Working at this job has both proved and disproved this statement. I have been frustrated by the procedures and emphasis on financial concerns. I have seen remarkable caring and support to people with disabilities by skilled and good hearted coworkers.
I did miss one of the sessions of NSO when I was struck down with the “Wisconsin Flu.“ I recently went (read: sneaked) home for a four day Wedding Whirlwind. I had my first experience with the red eye flight and bridal brain mush. During my trip my wedding team (Mom and friend/wedding planner Becca) and I accomplished the following:
Tasted both caterers that serve our chosen venue
Met with the wedding coordinator at said venue, with Fearless Hero conferencing on speaker phone
Went to two cake tastings
Tried on veils
Found wedding jewelry
Met with a photographer
Bought several gifts
Found a good candidate for wedding shoes
Visited my brother and grandmother, who is currently very concerned that I have not yet purchased said shoes (though she calls them ‘slippers’; she’s so cute)
Registered at a favorite store in Cedarburg
Bought two purses (non wedding related but one can’t be focused all the time)
The best part was the brunch organized by my mother for the lovely ladies in my life. It was very non shower like, per bridal command, and was a lovely afternoon of girly bonding. I loved having people together and having the different people in my life meet each other. There was chicken salad on croissants, which is one of the pinnacles of culinary goodness in my opinion, and lots of sweets. Of course. I am always touched by how much people will go out of their way to accommodate my visits and appreciated the many kind gestures and well wishes during the day.
As the last cake tasting was on the morning of my departure I was even able to bring some of the cake home for Fearless Hero and we had our own tasting the day after I got back.
As I mentioned before, I am currently reading a fantastic new book called "The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet" by Reif Larsen. I have read all the books by my new favorite L.A. author and have been quite unsuccessful with finding books at the local libraries lately. Remember when you were in grade school and your best friend was out sick and your day seemed longer and somewhat strange without her there? I feel this kind of disorientation and emotionally bereftness (bereftity? berefticity?) without an engaging book to escape into.
My favorite line from this book so far was from the sister of the main character, a 12 year old cartographer who maps just about everything (and whose various diagrams and side notes are illustrated in the margins), who talks about the “room-feeling” of the family’s living room. This concept is similar to a person’s aura, and states that every room is a sensory smorgasbord that one must experience firsthand to understand.
Currently our apartment-room gives off the feeling of !Cluttered! I regularly patrol (even though we all know I am hardly qualified to be chief of police in this area) and apprehend violators but there are a number of repeat offenders and if I don’t stop buying shoes in my quest for comfortable options (I have my late Grandma Adelman’s feet; this will explain much to several people reading this) we may be forced to store them all in the trunk of my car.
In my search for new books and authors, a recent segment on new books caught my attention while I was listening to NPR one morning. "School of Essential Ingredients" by Erica Bauermeister is about eight people who come to a cooking school. One example of the kinds of things the instructor teaches is that she believes that all couples should bake their wedding cake together before they get married. If this indeed was a requirement many couples would change their minds. Fearless Hero and I have decided that we will not feel truly married until we have paid several hundred dollars for a cake. I would love to give this one a try; though it’s highly possible that our lives are quite full enough of challenges for the moment.
The instructor tries to teach the students that it isn’t what you cook but how you cook. Fearless Hero is a good example of this. On his new Superhero regime he is cooking often and avoiding a variety of much-loved foods. He could grumble and complain at the work and the restrictions. But he manages to approach it with a light heart. Yes, it matters that it is vegetables instead of greasy pizza that he is cooking. But its just as important for his mental health that he is able to maintain this positive attitude.
I have not read this book yet but am interested in checking it out. In the meantime I scored the other day at the Manhattan Beach library and now have a stockpile of books at home. Shhhh, can you hear them? They are calling me to come home crack their spines and dive in.
I went to the library in the El last Sunday anticipating a quiet hour amongst the stacks. I can’t imagine my face when I walked in and was confronted with music and singing and huge crowds blocking most of the shelves during an author fair. It offended every library sensibility I possess. Though it was lovely to see fellow readers chatting with various local authors. I was relieved to see that books are a love shared by many others but I was also relieved to leave and try to recover from the trauma.
When I come to power (and I will) I will institute a law that will require employers to give their workers days off for new reasons. I came up with this idea with the recent load of books. One of the days would be “The book I’m reading is way too good so I can’t possibly go to work” day. The other motivation was spending time with my friend Laurie’s 2 year old daughter Maddie the other day. I can clearly understand the need for a “My kid is way to cute I can’t possibly leave them and go to work” day. Maddie astounds me with her intelligence and warms my heart with her sweetness and sense of wonder. We had a particularly fun round of I Spy in a local shop. “Hi Auntie Beth come on upstairs I’m eating peaches” is a wonderful antidote to “You will be doing a group presentation. Make it fun.”
My body has continued to make things difficult and the newest wonder drug I am on has so far resulted in a whole lotta nothing. I dream of a life where I don’t struggle so hard for every day gifts like a pain free day and miss the places and people I’m used to going to and being with when I am particularly sickly.
I recently went shopping of my own free will on a Friday night after work ( I know I know - me?! Just how sick is she?!) to continue my quest at appropriate clothing for both my job and the California weather. Due to my temperature regulation deficiencies this too has turned into a quest. I was astonishingly productive but in retrospect I am not sure if it is due to true fortune or satisfying some sort of need for comfort or progress or distraction.
A few days after my binge I found an article that described recent research which discovered a strong connection between feelings of sadness and willingness to spend money on stuff - more money, in fact, than people would pay for stuff if they weren’t sad. Oh how I wish that cuter outfits led to emotional stability. I guess it was worth a shot.
A kind coworker recently lent me a book to try and help me with my struggle with migraines etc. It outlines the mental causes for physical illness and the metaphysical ways to overcome them. The best I can do for now is my coffee mug at work that says “love the moment” on the inside rim. I am not quite ready to accept culpability for everything that is wrong with the various systems of my body; though I do acknowledge the powerful mind-body connection. This coworker actually gave me the book in the hopes that it would help me and hoping that I could pass it on to help others. Such a nice messenger from the Universe that made for brighter day.
It’s not what you cook but how you cook. It’s not that the weekend will be a perfect specimen of free time and enjoyment but that I have the break and people to share it with. It’s not that I will feel sensational but that I will still be able to do some of the things I love.
And I won’t have to oink.
I really want a brownie too but the ones they have in the case are still in the 9x13 pan they were baked in. I know I could go home and whip up a pan just like it right now so I can’t bring myself to actually buy one. I recently made a batch to satisfy a craving. The recipe I used was pretty good but I will work on tweaking it some more. The secret is to toast the nuts beforehand and then sprinkle them on top of the brownie batter before you bake it. They stay crunchy that way. The smell of baking brownies can lift any spirit yet they can hardly be called a healthy option.
I guess it is the tyranny of dichotomy. That is a phrase heard several times during the training session I just completed at work. New Staff Orientation or NSO, an acronym that causes fear and loathing to whoever hears it. Which is saying something since I work at an agency with an alarming preponderance of acronyms and employees who think nothing of making statements with seven or eight of them in a row, leading to a disorienting alphabet soup.
The title New Staff Orientation is really a misnomer since this training doesn’t contain the information about how to perform your day to day job. It is a seminar on the history of the regional centers like the one where I work and the overarching philosophies our agency is legally and morally required to follow in it’s practices of case management in the lives of people with disabilities.
The executive director for the agency has been called alternately, and sometimes in the same breath, as “visionary” and “dragon lady.” During my first week of work my supervisor made the following disturbing statement: “You know Meryl Streep in the movie “The Devil Wears Prada”? Well, our director is a little like that character.”
Whoo hoo. Welcome to Harbor Regional Center.
Since this visionary dragon runs the training there is a certain aura and mythology that surrounds it. Adhere to the following advice before the first session: Don’t wear jeans, Don’t under any circumstances be late, and if you value your job, Don’t bring a cell phone. She likes to call on people randomly and demands slavish attention and understated but intense enthusiasm.
There was homework and group projects and visits to sites in the community. There was a time or two that I felt like I was back in the seventh grade and Sister Marilyn was on the warpath. Two people in my group had never met anyone with a disability before so it was a lot of new experiences for them.
The sessions were held in our largest conference room. I also call it the Igloo. It is insanely cold in there. Even the men, traditionally less afflicted with the chills, keep their coats on. Last time I had a training in that location led by someone slightly more warm and fuzzy, I brought my fleece blanket with me. Seriously.
All of this culminated in a final group presentation. We were told to “make it fun.” I had trouble interpreting exactly what this meant. Here’s why.
One of our sessions had the different groups we were divided into for the duration competing to answer questions and in the absence of buzzers like in game shows such as Jeopardy we were given an animal noise to make. My group was the pigs so we were supposed to oink loudly to be called on to answer. This was “fun.“ I sat there, shivering and a few things popped into my partially thawed mind:
1. How old am I?
2. Did I take acid this morning?
3. Why did I take a job where the accepted idea of fun is to make animal sounds?
4. Are there any children in the vicinity?
Since the answer to the last question was "no" I resolved not to make a peep. Sorry, I mean a sound. It was a line in the sand for me. Standards must be maintained. I’m not sure what standard that is but I am going to maintain it. If I was in a room full of children I have been known to make a complete fool of myself without a second thought. Here it is a different story altogether. Besides I think my vocal cords were frozen.
A group member or two were a bit irritated with me as my lack of vocal assistance made it difficult for our oinking to overcome the cows behind us (it is very easy to moo very loudly) and I struggled to control my facial expression as not to give away my exasperation as a debate began by the complaining sheep who claimed it was difficult to baa as loudly as the moo-ers and that their underperformance was due to the nature of their assigned animal sound.
I did not oink. We did not win. I did not care.
Besides this ridiculous shenanigans I did learn some valuable things, some of which was related to the history of the regional centers.
It was only forty years ago that people with disabilities received very few services or supports and their families basically had two options: keep their disabled child at home and figure out how to provide them with the care and supervision they needed or commit them to a state hospital, where they would basically be warehoused, often in sub human conditions.
Schools were not required to provide any education to these children. There was a social stigma associated with having a child with a disability and their futures were universally considered to be bleak.
A landmark law, the Lanterman Act, was passed by the California legislature, and the regional center system was created with help by a bipartisan committee. It placed the state’s responsibility for people with disabilities at diagnosis instead of if and when they entered a state hospital.
What is shocking is that this is really was not that long ago. Parents were the driving force for this movement. They created advocacy and support organizations that lobbied for services for people with disabilities and their families. The sense of shame and social stigma was addressed when President Kennedy openly discussed his disabled sister and became involved with the creation of programs for people with special challenges.
It wasn’t until 1971 that the Supreme Court affirmed the right to education at public expense for children with disabilities. Congress passed Individuals with Disabilities Education Act in 1975 which created free and individualized education in the least restrictive environment and thereby enabled my former life as an interpreter for hearing impaired children.
These families and various other groups continued to fight for rights and services. We have shifted from an emphasis on "fixing" them to the belief that people with disabilities can live, learn, work and socialize in the environment of their choice as long as supports are given.
These groups are up against the cultural belief that people with disabilities are not as worthy to as rich of a life as we are and that they are fortunate instead of entitled to receive the supports they need to have a good quality of life. We recently had a speaker at work who spoke about all the jobs performed in the children’s hospital she manages by people with disabilities. These individuals perform better than their regularly developing coworkers due to their unique talents. She described how accommodations made for them have lead to an improvement in the overall systems of the various departments.
California is the only state that offers the regional center system and guarantees these services to its residents. The 21 regional centers service more than 200,000 individuals and their families with developmental disabilities, epilepsy, cerebral palsy and autism. The supports provided by the regional centers has enabled countless people to live with their families and in the community instead of in facilities and enriched their lives in equally countless ways.
California’s voters recently voted down several propositions meant to raise extra money to balance the budget. We have a 21 billion dollar deficit, which is a scary thing for the 8th largest economy in the world. It is scary for our clients as the deficit must now be ameliorated by cuts in state services, and scary too, frankly, for people with jobs like mine.
I recently started a new book. In the second chapter the main character’s mother states, “Bureaucracy nullifies kindness at every step.” Working at this job has both proved and disproved this statement. I have been frustrated by the procedures and emphasis on financial concerns. I have seen remarkable caring and support to people with disabilities by skilled and good hearted coworkers.
I did miss one of the sessions of NSO when I was struck down with the “Wisconsin Flu.“ I recently went (read: sneaked) home for a four day Wedding Whirlwind. I had my first experience with the red eye flight and bridal brain mush. During my trip my wedding team (Mom and friend/wedding planner Becca) and I accomplished the following:
Tasted both caterers that serve our chosen venue
Met with the wedding coordinator at said venue, with Fearless Hero conferencing on speaker phone
Went to two cake tastings
Tried on veils
Found wedding jewelry
Met with a photographer
Bought several gifts
Found a good candidate for wedding shoes
Visited my brother and grandmother, who is currently very concerned that I have not yet purchased said shoes (though she calls them ‘slippers’; she’s so cute)
Registered at a favorite store in Cedarburg
Bought two purses (non wedding related but one can’t be focused all the time)
The best part was the brunch organized by my mother for the lovely ladies in my life. It was very non shower like, per bridal command, and was a lovely afternoon of girly bonding. I loved having people together and having the different people in my life meet each other. There was chicken salad on croissants, which is one of the pinnacles of culinary goodness in my opinion, and lots of sweets. Of course. I am always touched by how much people will go out of their way to accommodate my visits and appreciated the many kind gestures and well wishes during the day.
As the last cake tasting was on the morning of my departure I was even able to bring some of the cake home for Fearless Hero and we had our own tasting the day after I got back.
As I mentioned before, I am currently reading a fantastic new book called "The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet" by Reif Larsen. I have read all the books by my new favorite L.A. author and have been quite unsuccessful with finding books at the local libraries lately. Remember when you were in grade school and your best friend was out sick and your day seemed longer and somewhat strange without her there? I feel this kind of disorientation and emotionally bereftness (bereftity? berefticity?) without an engaging book to escape into.
My favorite line from this book so far was from the sister of the main character, a 12 year old cartographer who maps just about everything (and whose various diagrams and side notes are illustrated in the margins), who talks about the “room-feeling” of the family’s living room. This concept is similar to a person’s aura, and states that every room is a sensory smorgasbord that one must experience firsthand to understand.
Currently our apartment-room gives off the feeling of !Cluttered! I regularly patrol (even though we all know I am hardly qualified to be chief of police in this area) and apprehend violators but there are a number of repeat offenders and if I don’t stop buying shoes in my quest for comfortable options (I have my late Grandma Adelman’s feet; this will explain much to several people reading this) we may be forced to store them all in the trunk of my car.
In my search for new books and authors, a recent segment on new books caught my attention while I was listening to NPR one morning. "School of Essential Ingredients" by Erica Bauermeister is about eight people who come to a cooking school. One example of the kinds of things the instructor teaches is that she believes that all couples should bake their wedding cake together before they get married. If this indeed was a requirement many couples would change their minds. Fearless Hero and I have decided that we will not feel truly married until we have paid several hundred dollars for a cake. I would love to give this one a try; though it’s highly possible that our lives are quite full enough of challenges for the moment.
The instructor tries to teach the students that it isn’t what you cook but how you cook. Fearless Hero is a good example of this. On his new Superhero regime he is cooking often and avoiding a variety of much-loved foods. He could grumble and complain at the work and the restrictions. But he manages to approach it with a light heart. Yes, it matters that it is vegetables instead of greasy pizza that he is cooking. But its just as important for his mental health that he is able to maintain this positive attitude.
I have not read this book yet but am interested in checking it out. In the meantime I scored the other day at the Manhattan Beach library and now have a stockpile of books at home. Shhhh, can you hear them? They are calling me to come home crack their spines and dive in.
I went to the library in the El last Sunday anticipating a quiet hour amongst the stacks. I can’t imagine my face when I walked in and was confronted with music and singing and huge crowds blocking most of the shelves during an author fair. It offended every library sensibility I possess. Though it was lovely to see fellow readers chatting with various local authors. I was relieved to see that books are a love shared by many others but I was also relieved to leave and try to recover from the trauma.
When I come to power (and I will) I will institute a law that will require employers to give their workers days off for new reasons. I came up with this idea with the recent load of books. One of the days would be “The book I’m reading is way too good so I can’t possibly go to work” day. The other motivation was spending time with my friend Laurie’s 2 year old daughter Maddie the other day. I can clearly understand the need for a “My kid is way to cute I can’t possibly leave them and go to work” day. Maddie astounds me with her intelligence and warms my heart with her sweetness and sense of wonder. We had a particularly fun round of I Spy in a local shop. “Hi Auntie Beth come on upstairs I’m eating peaches” is a wonderful antidote to “You will be doing a group presentation. Make it fun.”
My body has continued to make things difficult and the newest wonder drug I am on has so far resulted in a whole lotta nothing. I dream of a life where I don’t struggle so hard for every day gifts like a pain free day and miss the places and people I’m used to going to and being with when I am particularly sickly.
I recently went shopping of my own free will on a Friday night after work ( I know I know - me?! Just how sick is she?!) to continue my quest at appropriate clothing for both my job and the California weather. Due to my temperature regulation deficiencies this too has turned into a quest. I was astonishingly productive but in retrospect I am not sure if it is due to true fortune or satisfying some sort of need for comfort or progress or distraction.
A few days after my binge I found an article that described recent research which discovered a strong connection between feelings of sadness and willingness to spend money on stuff - more money, in fact, than people would pay for stuff if they weren’t sad. Oh how I wish that cuter outfits led to emotional stability. I guess it was worth a shot.
A kind coworker recently lent me a book to try and help me with my struggle with migraines etc. It outlines the mental causes for physical illness and the metaphysical ways to overcome them. The best I can do for now is my coffee mug at work that says “love the moment” on the inside rim. I am not quite ready to accept culpability for everything that is wrong with the various systems of my body; though I do acknowledge the powerful mind-body connection. This coworker actually gave me the book in the hopes that it would help me and hoping that I could pass it on to help others. Such a nice messenger from the Universe that made for brighter day.
It’s not what you cook but how you cook. It’s not that the weekend will be a perfect specimen of free time and enjoyment but that I have the break and people to share it with. It’s not that I will feel sensational but that I will still be able to do some of the things I love.
And I won’t have to oink.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Brushes With Fame
Here's my list of all my brushes with fame since I started coming to L.A.:
Gary Cole - T.V. actor (not to be confused with Gary Coleman, from Different Strokes, "whatchu talkin' 'bout Willis"), also from the movie "Office Space". "Ummm, yeah, about those TPS reports..." At LAX when I flew in for Laurie and Henry's wedding.
Emily Deschannel - actor from the Fox show "Bones". At The Wine House buying wine for my brother Judd. Stood behind her in line. She had a very cool outfit on but I remember feeling a little relieved that she had a blemish on her chin. Proof that celebrities aren't perfect after all.
Andy Garcia - actor ("Godfather Part III", "Ocean's 11,12 and 13", "When a Man Loves a Woman"). At Roy's Hawaiian Fusion restaurant downtown. He and his party had a large booth; I have never seen so many wine glasses at one table before.
Weird Al Yankovic - singer/comedian ("My Bologna", "Eat It"). At the Chicago Art Museum. Fearless Hero and I were playing Celebrity Look Alike while sitting in my favorite gallery with the Georgia O'Keefe paintings. When I saw him and he turned out to actually be the famous person I thought he looked like I became the Celebrity Look Alike grand champion of all time.
Michael Nouri - actor (the film "Flashdance", T.V. series "The O.C."). At an Academy Screening. He is tall and all the people he was with were tall too. I wonder if it's a prerequisite to be his friend.
Two actors from the half hour CBS soap opera "The Bold and the Beautiful." They were the power couple at the time and when I spotted them having lunch at the Farmer's Market at the Grove in the Fairfax district I thought they might be a couple off screen too. Since the soap is set in California I watch it as purely as research and have found it's realistic portrayal of life in L.A. very helpful in understanding the natives here (insert sarcasm here).
Omar Epps - actor (Fox series "House"). Fearless Hero and I were leaving the lot one night. The windows were rolled down in his truck and as we turned the corner down the fake buildings and storefronts he suddenly exclaimed, "Look, there's Omar Epps!" Which, of course, he heard. Instead of being embarrassed I guess I should thank Fearless Hero for upgrading what would otherwise have been a simple celebrity sighting to getting eye contact and a smile from a handsome celebrity.
Jack Nicholson, Dyan Cannon, Brian Grazer, Don Rickles, Kareem Abdul Jabbar - all at the Laker's game that we attended. I remember sending Judd a text of how excited I was to be in the same room as Jack.
Sun Yue - Laker's player. At the Ralph's grocery store near our house. The Laker's practice facility is only a mile or two away from where we live. This makes Fearless Hero very happy.
Stephen Cannell - producer (the A-Team, 21 Jump Street, Rockford Files) and author. At the L.A. Times Book Festival.
Andrew Dice Clay - comedian. On the plane coming back to L.A last month. He had had a show in Milwaukee the night before. And he looked it. I didn't realize who it was, even after standing directly behind him on the plane and watching him for three minutes situate all his stuff before he sat down, until my seatmate was on the phone talking about it.
Add your comments and share your brush with celebrity story.
Ok, traffic, earthquakes and celebrities - my work is done.
Gary Cole - T.V. actor (not to be confused with Gary Coleman, from Different Strokes, "whatchu talkin' 'bout Willis"), also from the movie "Office Space". "Ummm, yeah, about those TPS reports..." At LAX when I flew in for Laurie and Henry's wedding.
Emily Deschannel - actor from the Fox show "Bones". At The Wine House buying wine for my brother Judd. Stood behind her in line. She had a very cool outfit on but I remember feeling a little relieved that she had a blemish on her chin. Proof that celebrities aren't perfect after all.
Andy Garcia - actor ("Godfather Part III", "Ocean's 11,12 and 13", "When a Man Loves a Woman"). At Roy's Hawaiian Fusion restaurant downtown. He and his party had a large booth; I have never seen so many wine glasses at one table before.
Weird Al Yankovic - singer/comedian ("My Bologna", "Eat It"). At the Chicago Art Museum. Fearless Hero and I were playing Celebrity Look Alike while sitting in my favorite gallery with the Georgia O'Keefe paintings. When I saw him and he turned out to actually be the famous person I thought he looked like I became the Celebrity Look Alike grand champion of all time.
Michael Nouri - actor (the film "Flashdance", T.V. series "The O.C."). At an Academy Screening. He is tall and all the people he was with were tall too. I wonder if it's a prerequisite to be his friend.
Two actors from the half hour CBS soap opera "The Bold and the Beautiful." They were the power couple at the time and when I spotted them having lunch at the Farmer's Market at the Grove in the Fairfax district I thought they might be a couple off screen too. Since the soap is set in California I watch it as purely as research and have found it's realistic portrayal of life in L.A. very helpful in understanding the natives here (insert sarcasm here).
Omar Epps - actor (Fox series "House"). Fearless Hero and I were leaving the lot one night. The windows were rolled down in his truck and as we turned the corner down the fake buildings and storefronts he suddenly exclaimed, "Look, there's Omar Epps!" Which, of course, he heard. Instead of being embarrassed I guess I should thank Fearless Hero for upgrading what would otherwise have been a simple celebrity sighting to getting eye contact and a smile from a handsome celebrity.
Jack Nicholson, Dyan Cannon, Brian Grazer, Don Rickles, Kareem Abdul Jabbar - all at the Laker's game that we attended. I remember sending Judd a text of how excited I was to be in the same room as Jack.
Sun Yue - Laker's player. At the Ralph's grocery store near our house. The Laker's practice facility is only a mile or two away from where we live. This makes Fearless Hero very happy.
Stephen Cannell - producer (the A-Team, 21 Jump Street, Rockford Files) and author. At the L.A. Times Book Festival.
Andrew Dice Clay - comedian. On the plane coming back to L.A last month. He had had a show in Milwaukee the night before. And he looked it. I didn't realize who it was, even after standing directly behind him on the plane and watching him for three minutes situate all his stuff before he sat down, until my seatmate was on the phone talking about it.
Add your comments and share your brush with celebrity story.
Ok, traffic, earthquakes and celebrities - my work is done.
Drop, Cover and Hold On
First I complain about the traffic and now I'm posting pictures of earthquake drill instructions - very unimaginative and stereotypical L. A. topics. I guess next I will have to write about famous people and complete the triptych.
So, Sunday night, at home with Fearless Hero. The earth starts shaking. I tend to just stand there and marvel, it is still too new of a concept for me to actually begin to get scared. Fearless Hero waves me over to our sturdy hall doorway. And then it's done. There are a couple of shudders after that. It measured 4.7 and was located 2 miles away from our place in the El. This is a moderate quake and there were no reports of major injuries or damages. One report I read stated that, "The quake jiggled the greater Los Angeles region." I somehow think that 'jiggled' is not serious enough of a word to use to describe the earth moving under your feet. Perhaps I am just not jaded enough yet.
Ironically, the night before we were talking with our friend Traci, who admitted to feeling a little off in the few days preceding. We joked that she was hypersensitive, that maybe she could tell when an earthquake was coming and now that we had talked about it one was sure to hit. As newbie Californians, we kind of wanted to experience it to get it over with, with the hopes that the actual event would be less scary than the build up in our heads. Traci also shared a few places that she does not want to be when an earthquake happens. If you stop and think about this, you too can create your short list right away.
Luckily I was not engaged in any of the activities on my own personal list when another one hit two days later. I was at work, in my greycubicle hacking away at my To Do list when the building starts shaking. I just sat in my chair and felt the shaking. Remember, I'm still getting used to the concept of the entire earth moving and I haven't yet entertained the thought of the earth shaking to the point where buildings fall down. It didn't occur to me to get under my desk; I always assume that these will be short events. I'll be the idiot injured because she didn't get under her desk.
Soon after the shaking became a rolling of sorts. You know how we from coldsnowyland have a huge vocabulary for snow and its effects on the temperature and roads? People here have the same vocabulary to describe how the earth moves. And you know when there is a snow storm and the local news reports on it like it's the first reported occurence of frozen water falling from the sky, complete with bundled storm-team reporters giving updates about the same things that happen every time it snows? It's kind of like that here: Reporter: "So where were you when it happened?" Joe Citizen: "I was sitting in my chair and then everything started shaking."
At some point I poked my head of my cubicle. A few people were milling around but there was a general lack of reaction. I'm glad there wasn't panic but I had a hard time discerning where on the continuum of disregard - concern - all out panic I should.
Our team secretary told me that there are floor wardens who are in charge of getting everybody out of the building. The secretaries grab the clipboards with everyone's printed schedules. This was mildly reassuring since the nature of our jobs have us in and out of the office different times every day. Working at a job where people have a general idea where I am and would theoretically search for me amongst the rubble is an improvement for me. Last school year when I transferred from one of the elementary schools to the high school my name never managed to make any staff roster for fire drills. If there really was a fire I would have had to rely on my wonderful coworkers to make sure that I was accounted for after the evacuation.
Speaking of rubble, being under my desk would really be a good place to be. Due to the high turnover on my caseload I have four emergency kits stashed under my desk left behind by three previous employees. They are in drawstring backpacks and contain a box with packets of water, food, a space blanket, flashlight and first aid supplies. I received mine on the first day of work and remember very clearly looking at it and wondering what the hell I had gotten myself into, with this new job and this new state. Each of these kits is supposed to have enough water to last you three days so it looks like I'll be set.
Finally the floor wardens started to corrale everybody out. I grabbed my stuff and followed everyone out. We all milled in the parking lot near the building, which is not the safest place to be if the earth starts to shake again. No one seemed too clear about where we are supposed to gather.
I questioned several people about who makes the decision that it is safe to return to the building. The Fox Studios lot, which has it's own fire station, has their firefighter staff inspect the buildings before workers are allowed to re-enter. After about 10 minutes we all went back to our desks, but I still don't know if it was out of boredom or if someone qualified actually gave the okay. None of the other area businesses had people standing outside. There wasn't any follow up emails that day or the next. So the whole experience gave me very few clues about how to respond during these events.
That one measured 4.1 on the Richter Scale and was located 2 miles away from my office. It felt strange to just go back to working on reports. I actually had a meeting shortly after at the home of one of my clients. His mother is, shall we say, difficult, and I added to my own mental list of places I didn't want to be when an earthquake hits "At Crazy Mom's house." There are certain people with whom I don't want to be trapped in the rubble.
Speaking of mental health issues (ooh, what a segway), our agency celebrated Mental Health Month. I'm not sure if celebrated is the right word but since mental health issues affect many of our clients and their families there were several programs and events aimed at raising peoples' awareness. I think one good way to celebrate would be to give everyone a mental health day off. But that's just me.
Every other month we have an all staff meeting. This time, our meeting was held at a local theater and after business was concluded we watched a screening of the film "The Soloist," starring Robert Downey Jr and Jamie Foxx. It is based on a true story of a columnist for the L.A. Times who befriends a homeless man who suffers from schizophrenia who has an amazing gift for music.
The movie was good and I especially appreciated the filmmakers attempts at conveying what people with schizophrenia experience. The film addresses issues related to homeless people but is not preachy. It's more about friendship and what gifts people give and receive and lose along the way. It makes me marvel that despite our technology, we really have such a primitive understanding of the brain.
Since my MRI came back normal (no brain lesions - yay!) and my brain and it's responses are still primitively understood by me and my doctors I have started yet another medication. Which I think is why I am still awake at 2:30am. Welcome to Fun With Side Effects! I'm your host, Beth. Today we will discuss relaxation techniques, and will find out the answer to the question - Does eating brownies make you sleepy? Don't go away!
So remember, whatever life throws at you and whenever the earth shakes - Drop, cover and hold on.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Droveling
While this is no longer an original topic and the reputation of Los Angeles' traffic precedes this posting, I find myself having more to say about driving in L.A.
Driving here is not really driving. It is movement broken up by long periods of sitting in your car at stop lights. Or in slow moving traffic. So you are not really driving since that word is a verb that implies movement, and further which includes performing a variety of maneuvers, maintaining appropriate speed, following posted signs and adhering to a complicated system of road rules.
The skills set in demand here is actually quite different. You must be skilled at waiting and occupying yourself, controlling your temper and frustration level, creating an acceptable internal enviroment and be able to cope with the idea that spending so much time in a metal conveyance is surreal. You must also become skilled at snapping to full attention to the road when you do get to move your vehicle. And you must be paying attention at all times while driving because you have to assume that your fellow travelers aren't.
While the implementation of this idea is currently impossible due to the massive budget cuts and financial future (listening to local news here is Doomsday 101) there should be tests to see if you can endure the boredom of going 10 mph for miles at a time and can withstand high levels of frustration before you are given a license.
These are the reasons why people in L.A. do dozens of other things in their cars. It's a way to get all the stuff done that you would do later but you won't have the time because that time is getting eaten up by your commute, expectedly and otherwise.
But woe to you if you are engaged in one of these alternate activities at the interminable stop lights (like reading the newspaper or putting on mascara) because if you don't move your car 0.4 seconds after the light turns green you will be honked at. And not a friendly little tap either. People here drive like hell when the light is green in a valiant attempt to make up the time you waste while you are sitting at all the lights or in traffic. And I don't advise that you get in their way.
The situation reminds me of the word "portage," when settlers travelling by canoe leave the water and carry their boats from one body of water to another to continue their journey. That is what we are doing, carrying the canoe most of the time.
My friend Traci, a fellow CA transplant, have discussed this several times but were unable to come up with a satisfactory replacement term for the misnomer "drive." We thought the creation of a compound word or sniglet was in order.
She was discussing this concept with a friend of hers recently. The word they came up with to more accurately describe the interaction between driver and car and road was droveling. It's a combination of driving, groveling, submitting to the higher power of traffic and hoping to be granted your destination and droves, which describes the sheer number of folks on the road. At all times.
The best I was able to come up with was either dridling, which combines driving and idling (but which makes me start to sing that "Driedel Dreidel Dreidel" song in my head every time) drawdling, which combines driving with idling with crawling and dawdling but which may be semantically overambitious.
I'm liking droveling. First prize and a free round trip downtown to Traci, Santa Monica's coolest new resident! [applause applause applause]
I have been reading a series of books by Michael Connelly that are set in Los Angeles; I get inordinately pleased with myself when I know the places that are discussed or have actually been there myself. At the end of one that I just finished today, the author writes,
"The rain continued through Monday morning and slowed Bosch's drive into Brentwood to a frustrating crawl. It wasn't a heavy rain, but in Los Angeles any rain at all can paralyze the city. It was one of the mysteries Bosch could never fathom. A city largely defined by the automobile yet full of drivers unable to cope with even a mild inclemency."
Los Angeles would crumble as a civilization if there was snow here; there would be absolutely no place to plow it, the already congested roads would make travel impossible literally instead of figuratively and people would not even attempt it since rain is enough of a challenge. It makes me giggle to think about it. People here shake their head at the sheer insanity of being prevented from driving due to snow when every day their own plans revolve around when the 405 starts to get busy and how long it will take to get from one part of town to another. It's the same limitations, just for a different reason.
And the sad truth is that I don't have to wrestle with the really bad traffic. I don't have to get on the 405 to get to work, and it doesn't take me an hour to get there. If I did, then my compound word creations would probably employ a few expletives. And heaven help me, I am developing my own repetoire of alternate activities while I am at stop lights. And last week I honked at a fellow driver for the first time. I feel like I have crossed some invisible line.
I am now a droveler.
Driving here is not really driving. It is movement broken up by long periods of sitting in your car at stop lights. Or in slow moving traffic. So you are not really driving since that word is a verb that implies movement, and further which includes performing a variety of maneuvers, maintaining appropriate speed, following posted signs and adhering to a complicated system of road rules.
The skills set in demand here is actually quite different. You must be skilled at waiting and occupying yourself, controlling your temper and frustration level, creating an acceptable internal enviroment and be able to cope with the idea that spending so much time in a metal conveyance is surreal. You must also become skilled at snapping to full attention to the road when you do get to move your vehicle. And you must be paying attention at all times while driving because you have to assume that your fellow travelers aren't.
While the implementation of this idea is currently impossible due to the massive budget cuts and financial future (listening to local news here is Doomsday 101) there should be tests to see if you can endure the boredom of going 10 mph for miles at a time and can withstand high levels of frustration before you are given a license.
These are the reasons why people in L.A. do dozens of other things in their cars. It's a way to get all the stuff done that you would do later but you won't have the time because that time is getting eaten up by your commute, expectedly and otherwise.
But woe to you if you are engaged in one of these alternate activities at the interminable stop lights (like reading the newspaper or putting on mascara) because if you don't move your car 0.4 seconds after the light turns green you will be honked at. And not a friendly little tap either. People here drive like hell when the light is green in a valiant attempt to make up the time you waste while you are sitting at all the lights or in traffic. And I don't advise that you get in their way.
The situation reminds me of the word "portage," when settlers travelling by canoe leave the water and carry their boats from one body of water to another to continue their journey. That is what we are doing, carrying the canoe most of the time.
My friend Traci, a fellow CA transplant, have discussed this several times but were unable to come up with a satisfactory replacement term for the misnomer "drive." We thought the creation of a compound word or sniglet was in order.
She was discussing this concept with a friend of hers recently. The word they came up with to more accurately describe the interaction between driver and car and road was droveling. It's a combination of driving, groveling, submitting to the higher power of traffic and hoping to be granted your destination and droves, which describes the sheer number of folks on the road. At all times.
The best I was able to come up with was either dridling, which combines driving and idling (but which makes me start to sing that "Driedel Dreidel Dreidel" song in my head every time) drawdling, which combines driving with idling with crawling and dawdling but which may be semantically overambitious.
I'm liking droveling. First prize and a free round trip downtown to Traci, Santa Monica's coolest new resident! [applause applause applause]
I have been reading a series of books by Michael Connelly that are set in Los Angeles; I get inordinately pleased with myself when I know the places that are discussed or have actually been there myself. At the end of one that I just finished today, the author writes,
"The rain continued through Monday morning and slowed Bosch's drive into Brentwood to a frustrating crawl. It wasn't a heavy rain, but in Los Angeles any rain at all can paralyze the city. It was one of the mysteries Bosch could never fathom. A city largely defined by the automobile yet full of drivers unable to cope with even a mild inclemency."
Los Angeles would crumble as a civilization if there was snow here; there would be absolutely no place to plow it, the already congested roads would make travel impossible literally instead of figuratively and people would not even attempt it since rain is enough of a challenge. It makes me giggle to think about it. People here shake their head at the sheer insanity of being prevented from driving due to snow when every day their own plans revolve around when the 405 starts to get busy and how long it will take to get from one part of town to another. It's the same limitations, just for a different reason.
And the sad truth is that I don't have to wrestle with the really bad traffic. I don't have to get on the 405 to get to work, and it doesn't take me an hour to get there. If I did, then my compound word creations would probably employ a few expletives. And heaven help me, I am developing my own repetoire of alternate activities while I am at stop lights. And last week I honked at a fellow driver for the first time. I feel like I have crossed some invisible line.
I am now a droveler.
Friday, May 8, 2009
The Locket - The Gift Part Two
Happy Mother’s Day to all of you Moms and Grandmas who are reading this. You are truly a gift to your children and grandchildren in ways you cannot even know. And a shout out to all the godmothers too! The gifts you give everyday are lasting ones.
Moving away from Wisconsin was very difficult for me; one of the hardest adjustments was being so far away from my mother. I have lost the comfort of knowing she is only an hour’s drive away. I am disoriented by not knowing what she is reading, not seeing what new clothes she has bought and how she has her furniture arranged. I miss the time we spent together very much.
I have been blessed with many good friends, sister girls. My mother has always been my closest friend, except, of course, for a few years in high school when I blamed her for everything wrong with my life. Her constant support and her innate understanding of me has been a blessing. I am constantly lifted up by her pep talks and rely on her wisdom. Her friends have become mine and vice versa. Her condo is my home away from home and it is a comfort to be surrounded by the art, furnishings and pottery that she loves. We are very much alike and are lucky to be so close.
The last time I was home to visit she presented me with an unexpected gift. It is a beautiful locket, silver and oval, with sapphires and detailing on a delicate chain.
She told me that she had searched for just the right thing. She wanted for me to have a piece of her, a reminder of her presence always with me. The true gift of a mother and a friend: to have me in her thoughts and to know how best to be there for me during all the changes and despite any distances.
It was a beautiful gesture. I wear it and think of her, remembering not only the strength and talents I have inherited from her but the love and support I have from her and my family. It is beautiful and she succeeded - it was just the right thing.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom - I love you!
Moving away from Wisconsin was very difficult for me; one of the hardest adjustments was being so far away from my mother. I have lost the comfort of knowing she is only an hour’s drive away. I am disoriented by not knowing what she is reading, not seeing what new clothes she has bought and how she has her furniture arranged. I miss the time we spent together very much.
I have been blessed with many good friends, sister girls. My mother has always been my closest friend, except, of course, for a few years in high school when I blamed her for everything wrong with my life. Her constant support and her innate understanding of me has been a blessing. I am constantly lifted up by her pep talks and rely on her wisdom. Her friends have become mine and vice versa. Her condo is my home away from home and it is a comfort to be surrounded by the art, furnishings and pottery that she loves. We are very much alike and are lucky to be so close.
The last time I was home to visit she presented me with an unexpected gift. It is a beautiful locket, silver and oval, with sapphires and detailing on a delicate chain.
She told me that she had searched for just the right thing. She wanted for me to have a piece of her, a reminder of her presence always with me. The true gift of a mother and a friend: to have me in her thoughts and to know how best to be there for me during all the changes and despite any distances.
It was a beautiful gesture. I wear it and think of her, remembering not only the strength and talents I have inherited from her but the love and support I have from her and my family. It is beautiful and she succeeded - it was just the right thing.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom - I love you!
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