Thanks for the update

I have been sleeping really well for the last few months. I don’t mean to sound surprised by this, but given the fact that I will be un-employed in a little over two months…shouldn’t my sleep be affected? Two weeks of vacation over the Christmas holidays was really nice and I got very well rested. We stayed up late and jumped out of bed at the crack of 10:30! We drank a bunch of really special coffee and sat around and just talked. I spent a lot of time reading, often when everyone was asleep, and sometimes with earplugs in front of the television. I know that sounds weird, but just one’s physical presence makes a difference in the mood of the household. Oh, and I don’t like murder/crime TV shows anyway.

But I have also been sleeping with my ear plugs. I usually save this for allergy season because this is the time my wife chooses to harvest her timber, but lately I’ve used them just because. Those chain saws and log trucks make sleep difficult and I hate a day of work after a fitful night of attempted sleep. Ear plugs are great. I have quite a bit of “head noise” in my old age and when I first started using the plugs it sounded like I needed to back away from the microphone; too much feedback. This is probably caused by either noisy machinery or loud music; it’s a shrill ringing. At first I expected to open my eyes and see a television test pattern, (jump right up and show your age), but eventually I got used to it and it became a comforting background noise.

But sleep this deep causes me to not remember my dreams quite as well as I usually do; I guess I sleep right through them! But when I do remember the dream, it sticks with me for a while. I have my normal pre-sleep routine that I practice every night without fail. As I say my prayers I always ask to not be disturbed by my dreams and to not be given one that I don’t understand. This works for me most of the time and I have gotten well practiced in using them to solve problems. Then right in the middle of everything great, I get an old fashioned visit!

His first visit was only a couple of days after he died. Physically it wasn’t him, but one look in his eyes and I knew exactly who he was. It was great! I understood that he was fine, and while I still missed him dearly, I no longer worried for him. Thanks. I had one more in the next few days and then he was gone; question and answer session over. I understand that if you told me everything you would have to kill me, so I appreciate what you give. Last night was great because I didn’t ask for it and I didn’t expect it. Everybody loves a good surprise! I wish I could still scratch your belly every night like I used to, but I’ll take what I get. Come by anytime, I’ll leave the light on.

Good Morning

I dropped my daughter off at the high school this morning and after cautiously navigating the parking lot crowded with our newest fleet of drivers, I headed for the main highway. It is interesting to watch a crowd of sixteen year olds park every morning, and to say that I am extra careful is an understatement. I shudder to think that in little more than a year my daughter will be one of them, but what do you do? I will add that after leaving the high school I have to merge with the college drivers leaving the student housing, so there are a few minutes of breath holding before I reach the main road.

This morning was typical; I left the parking lot and just before I reached the highway a car from the student housing jumped out in front of me. There was no mistaking that this was a student. His car was basically a collegiate uniform item; A Subaru with a ski rack on top and bumper stickers and decals literally blacking out the back glass. He supported peace of all types and was in love with several bands with names so random and irrelevant I had to move my lips to read them. I thought for a second I was in Athens, but when I noticed the lack of dents in the car, I knew I was not. Still I kept my distance.

As we approached the red light I decided to move a little closer so I could read some of the smaller decals. While I’ve never been the type to apply bumper stickers to my own vehicle, I do love to read them on other cars. Maybe I’ve never loved anything quite that much, but I always worried that I would end up with something like “I’d rather be collecting stamps” or “Hello, my probation officer’s name is…” Something stupid and dated. But as I got closer I noticed a decal that took my breath. It was one that my little brother and I used to tag things (Ok, now the call it graffiti) with thirty years ago! We invented it I’m sure, and the fact that it made absolutely no sense made it even better! Stop, thief!

Well I got over that emotion pretty quickly and just headed home. I’d love to think that someone saw this “ornamentation” a few years back and thought it was as cool as we did. Maybe they’ve had it in their head after a trip to Jacksonville Beach more than a few years back, or maybe they just thought of it themselves…who knows. Hell, we may have stolen it ourselves! Either way, I like to think that my brother just told me good morning! Good morning to you too.

Big Memories

We had a chance yesterday to visit the first place my daughter called home. The first placed she lived when we brought the tiny six pound bundle home from the hospital almost fifteen years ago. Her first home and the first real home my wife and I owned together. We rented one when we were first married, and we bought a singlewide trailer to live in while we built this house, but this was our first real home as a family. Even though my daughter was three years old when we moved away, she doesn’t remember living there, at all; I hoped the visit would make something click.

My wife and I hadn’t been there in almost twelve years, so we were excited to visit as well. This is an unusual home in that it was built in an old fashioned way. I touched every board and nail while building it, and really the only thing we hired a subcontractor to do was dig the septic tank. Everything is so specialized and regulated today I’m not sure this is even possible to do anymore, and when I think about the work involved, I’m not so sure it’s a good idea anyway. Toward the end of construction I was beginning to think that I would be buried beside the home instead of ever hanging my clothes in the closet!

Well it didn’t jog any memories in my daughter, but it was certainly memory overload for my wife and me. Of course a few things had been changed, but it was mostly just like we left it; put our stuff back in and we wouldn’t miss a beat. But what seems so weird is that while I remember what it looks like, I couldn’t tap in at all to actually doing any of the work. I couldn’t remember why I had done some of the things I did; it felt like somebody else had done the work. Maybe if I had realized just how much work it was going to be I would have never attempted it in the first place! Kind of like closing your eyes and holding your breath before you jump in the lake. Downplay the effort to be able to complete (or at least begin) the task!

We were kind of quiet on the ride home. I could sense my wife’s mind was racing in all directions like mine was, and I think neither of us wanted to talk. But just before we made it back to our current home she said to no one in particular, “seems smaller doesn’t it?” I just mumbled an “uh huh” or something, but I knew what she meant. Our memories of things make them larger than life. Those mansions our grandparents lived in turn out to be regular little houses; those beautiful motels we vacationed in are now small and dated and that outstanding dinner at a faraway restaurant is simply a meal. Maybe we should not re-visit these places; maybe we should just enjoy the memories in their distorted fashion. Either way, I think this is simply proof that truly loving something makes it large!

Represent!

I love Facebook. I have really enjoyed catching up with some old friends over the last couple of years, and I have made some new ones as well. I guess the biggest surprise was just how funny and articulate some of my friends are. I don’t mean to sound surprised…but I guess I am. One of things I almost never do on Facebook is open a link that takes me somewhere else. Yes, I would like to know the identity of the people looking at my page, and I do wonder what happened to the girl that was driving while texting, but I won’t risk opening the (probably virus infected) link. I broke my rule this morning.

When I saw that the link for “Toddlers and Tiaras: A dollar make me Hollar” was filmed in McIntyre Georgia, I had to take a look. All I can say is you can’t put the genie back in the bottle; Elvis has left the building! I had to laugh even though I see people just like this every day. And yes, there are times when I fit right in with them. Sometimes when we are sitting around the house one of us will say something “extra Southern” and we’ll all belly laugh. You know, laugh and look around to be sure nobody is filming! No reason to give those that live a few miles north any more reasons to think we’re all stupid down here.

But why is it that a person that has a Boston accent so thick that only their mother can understand them doesn’t sound stupid? They just don’t. Maybe it’s the same phenomenon as when you hear your own voice on tape…is that what I sound like? I don’t know, but it sure seems like every time a UFO is spotted in the south it chooses to hover over a trailer park? When a natural disaster occurs here the media doesn’t interview the people that live in a gated community, they go for the “representatives”. Like the guy in an Atlanta mobile mansion community that was interviewed after a tornado hit a few summers back, “Hell, these folks ain’t got nothing and they lost that”. What?

I will say that I’m proud of who I am and where I’m from. I’ve traveled around enough to know that there are “characters” in every town and country whether the cameras find them or not. But maybe…just maybe, we should pretend we are giving a book report in front of the class when the camera is pointed our way? Pretend we are saying a few words at an awards ceremony…a funeral? Or maybe we should just be ourselves; the south is crowded enough already!

New Year's Resolutions

It’s New Year’s resolution time once again and the web is full of great ideas on how to slim down, save money or party like a Kardashian. The first two sound ok, but I still don’t get the fixation with the dysfunctional Kardashian clan…but that’s another topic all in itself. No matter which great idea you choose, probably close to 100% of these ill-chosen resolutions will fail. But how can this be so when we see so many thin, rich people partying like its 1999? It will work, but I think the failure rate is tied more to the timing of the resolution than the resolution itself.

Here I go again sharing good advice I gleaned from my very first broker; you know, the one I said I got no good advice from. But what he told me on this matter has stuck with me for years. We were sitting around the office during that lull between Christmas and the New Year trying to act like we were conducting some type of real estate business. I was still trying to get used to the idea of sitting around talking about work actually being work, but he had been at it for years so he genuinely appeared busy. This is when I asked him if he had chosen a resolution for the coming year. “Nope” was all he said as he grabbed the phone to make a call.

Well he never said anything else on the subject so later in the day, while we were eating lunch, I asked him again. Food always made him friendly, so I knew it was a good time to follow up. He said that he never made any type of commitment to a new idea as long as there was a celebration (he probably meant alcohol) going on. He said a new year’s resolution was like hugging a stranger in a bar and telling them you loved them. He said his new year would begin on February one as would his resolution. Seems kind of simple when you think about it; when you think about what it really means. How many times have you made a good decision when you were making one just because everybody else was? Lemmings leap simply because the others do, and the last time I checked they all die! Happy early New Year, it’s a little more than a month away!

whoo-whoo

It never ceases to amaze me how often I think about someone that I haven’t seen in ages and the next thing I know they are standing behind me in the checkout line at the grocery store. It’s almost like you knew you were going to see them soon and your brain was doing the prep work. Going over the notes before the big test? I don’t know if this is some kind of sixth sense, but I do try to pay attention to these things. They might just be important.

It’s not hard to imagine that my wife and I would share a common wave length, we’ve been together over half of our lives. But almost every day (if I call her) she says “I was just thinking about calling you”. It happens so often I don’t give it a second thought. But what about when this “whoo-whoo” thing happens with old friends? What about extended family…or ideas; how much time do you spend on those thoughts? I have random “good ideas” all the time that I usually just let slip away or write off as daydreaming.

My wife and I spend a lot of time “double daydreaming”. We dream out loud of things to add to our “some-day list”. Not things like winning the lottery or going to the moon, but more practical ideas like building a new house in the country or moving to the beach. I think it is really the only way that you will truly know what your partner is thinking, and it does help some of these dreams actually happen. The ideas have changed over the years as many of our dreams have been realized, but the latest one seems like the best ever; owning a bed and breakfast.

Really it would be more like a bed and supper, but that’s just a technicality. It would probably end up being more work than either of us would really want, but it does sound like fun meeting and cooking for a few new people every night. Of course we would locate in some semi-exotic location and the house would practically take care of itself, but we are dreaming, right? If we ever stop and declare just how much work it would really be the dream would be over. No need in killing our dream of the last few years over details!

But mixed in with every dream is the reality of day to day life. Christmas is always a busy time; a time when you need to think of others more than yourself. We don’t need anything, and all we really wanted this year was some time off together; we are getting that right now. But I must admit that I wonder about the meaning of what happened to me when I checked my email Christmas morning. We were in a bit of a rush to get out and be with family, but I was ready before the girls and decided to turn on the computer. I replied to a few emails and deleted them but I couldn’t make myself delete the single message in my spam box; three months of free advertising on Bedandbreakfast.com! Whoo-whoo!

An heiress and a pool house

There is nothing like celebrating a birthday to remind us just how fast time flies. If you’re sitting around waiting to turn sixteen or twenty one you might not agree, but the older you are the faster time seems to move. I will never forget being at a wedding once when the groom’s grandmother, who was in her late eighties at the time, asked me how old I was. “I’m thirty four” I told her with my chest poked out just a little, proud to be a very grown man. Well this little lady that probably wasn’t five feet tall laying down with her toes pointed out said “You think time is moving fast now, don’t you. Wait until you get my age; I eat breakfast every fifteen minutes”. This was many years ago, but I can still remember it like it was yesterday. At the time I really didn’t see how things could move any faster, but throw in kids, houses, jobs and birthdays and the next thing you know co-workers are saying yes sir calling you Mr. Ande.

When I was younger I could sit down and compile a list of things I wanted without even having to think. It’s harder to do this now, and often when I have free time I can’t even think of something I want to do much less buy. It’s not that I have gotten everything I ever wanted, I simply don’t want as much. It took years to understand that a good meal and a movie with my family is as exciting as buying a new truck or house on the lake. I know that I had to try these other things to understand the concept, but I’m still happy that I learned this lesson….at any age. With the economy in shambles, some are learning this the hard way.

The lesson is humility and I met a lady this week that, for me, put it all in perspective. I see low income families every day in my job, and yes, more than a few are milking the system for whatever they can get. I don’t know the situations of any of the clients I meet unless they offer them up, and to say that few do is an understatement. Most critique the free work done on their home like an heiress building a pool house, but it IS their home and I try to be respectful. Then I meet a client like this.

The first time I see her she is standing on her small concrete porch with her arms wrapped around my agency escort. “Come on in” she almost screams as she grabs my hand and pulls me inside the small home. “Ya’ll are some of my favorite people on earth right now!” Wow! I get very few this excited I think as I head inside; this is going to be a good day.

As I walk to the kitchen to put my files down I notice that a small artificial Christmas tree and a few other modest decorations are about the only furnishings in the living room. I wonder if she has just moved in, but I don’t get a chance to ask her any of my normal questions as she is talking nonstop about her new low power bill and cozy home. I hear kids laughing in a back bedroom and remember that I had planned to take this week before Thanksgiving off myself, but ended up having to work around the agency’s busy holiday schedule. I’ll make this one quick, I think as I take a few pictures and begin to wrap up my visit.

“Is there anything you want to ask me?’ I ask her as I close my files and look toward the door. “Did everything turn out as you hoped?” She smiled at me and sat down at the kitchen table where her two kids were now eating breakfast. She didn’t say anything for a few minutes, but when I reached out to shake her hand she very softly said “I’m just glad to be here. I’m 53 years old and up until three years ago I had been on the same job for eighteen years. I think the only thing my husband liked about me was my six figure income and now I have neither. I went through my savings and discovered that the only thing worse than living in a trailer park was living in a homeless shelter. Before this I thought I knew what humble meant. Things can change very fast.”

As I drove back home I thought about her. I admit the man in me wondered how, if you truly made six figures, you could now be broke, but I couldn’t stay on that thought long. All I could think of was how grateful she seemed. She was smiling at me, cooking breakfast for her kids before she went to work later at Home Depot; she was happy. She was enjoying the moment she was in; the moment before things changed again. Happy Thanksgiving.