Five Feet High and Risin'

About two weeks and twelve years ago, an F-3 tornado ripped through downtown Nashville. It destroyed my little historic church and much of the little historic neighborhood where I now live. At the time, I was in school in Ohio and I spent several days parked on my futon in front of the news and watched friends and relatives being interviewed by national reporters.

From this past Saturday evening until last night I had to do the same thing all over again. Only this time it was flood waters that inundated downtown Nashville instead of wind, and I was in a hotel room in Colorado instead of the futon in my apartment.

The other difference this time, it seems, is that my city has had to share the news cycle with car bombers and oil spills and wingnut immigration legislation and maybe it's received less of the spotlight than it should. Maybe. Many people around here certainly think so and are outraged. I'm not sure I'm in the same camp. If we were swarmed with reporters 24-7 it would just create a shortage of actual news and leave them with nothing to do but ferret out the most ridiculous situations and even more opportunity to report things incorrectly. As it is, I'm already annoyed by the news: "That's not the symphony hall - that's the Country Music Hall of Fame!" "That's not how you pronounce the police chief's name!" "The Opryland Hotel isn't downtown - it's nowhere near downtown!"

I also don't have a lot of faith that they would show the real Nashville. The whole Nashville. The Nashville that I know - grungy, beautiful, absurd, welcoming, tacky, funny, annoying, gracious, ridiculous, wonderful, and weird. They would miss the fact that when it snowed a few inches this winter we were completely incapacitated, but with a devastating flood everyone (it seems anyway) has come together and quietly gotten down to the business of helping their neighbors and reminding us why we're the Volunteer State. On Monday my mother called to say that my next door neighbor had gone out in his boat to help evacuate people. When the mayor put out a call for people to help sandbag the levy near my office, 300 people showed up within an hour. A friend called on Tuesday and said Hands On Nashville (right) already had offers of help from more than 7,000 people. Last I heard, that number was up to 20,000.

And in case you were wondering... by the grace of a little bit of elevation, and a lot of luck, my church and neighborhood that were so ravaged by that tornado, managed to escape the worst of the flood. The rest of the city and its outer suburbs, however, did not. Many people have died. Interstates turned into rivers within minutes, deep enough to cover a semi-truck. The Grand Ole Opry, the Titans' football field, and our main water treatment plant were under several feet of water.

While I am happy and thankful that my little corner of town was spared, it also has caused some guilt. Guilt of not having been here; guilt for only suffering a couple of fallen gutters and a house that smells like soggy dog; guilt for not realizing at first how bad the flooding was. Another friend expressed similar thoughts in a much more poetic fashion here. She also shared the following video.

What's the most fitting music to put to images of the great Nashville flood, you ask?
Why, Johnny Cash, of course.

I hope all of this doesn't mean we'll be suffering a plague of locusts in another twelve years and two weeks. That's bound to test even the strongest of Southern resolves and hospitality. In the meantime, while I'm kind of glad not to have Brian Williams and Wolf Blitzer beating down our doors, I do hope we can still find a way to let the rest of the country know what is going on and that they keep us in their thoughts.

Home Sick

I was in Denver for work the end of last week and over the weekend. And while it was a great trip - and I have all kinds of crafty things to chat about - I also had to sit by the television and watch my city flood on CNN. I'm very fortunate that my home, and the homes of my friends and family are all okay, but many, many others are not. Its a real - and surreal - mess down here.

So... more about this later... here's what I would have posted otherwise...


Rocky Mountain High
I was in Denver for a gigantic conference for work and was also there with two of my main gays. So, to add to all of the hiking around their convention center (but look, isn't it the cutest convention center you've ever seen?) I was also galavanting around the city in the evenings and plied with cocktails until all hours. And when you combine those activities with a new time zone, a different climate, and crazy altitude, I'm now totally exhausted and have a cold. HOWEVER, on the plus side, while in Denver, I was served drinks from a bartender that looks like Michael Phelps, rode in an elevator with a mini Evan Lysacek, and one of the presenters at a session I attended sounded just like the Count from Sesame Street: "ONE cognative learning research method! TWO cognative learning research methods! Bwah-ah-ah!" (made the presentation waaaay more interesting, BTW.) So really - two olympic athlete look-alikes and a muppet impersonator - what more do you need to give a trip two thumbs up than that?


Last Supper
I had one of the best $*#@& meals of my life at this place. Mostly organic, locally grown yumminess. It's in a old service station, which they've managed to pay homage to nicely, and most of the interior is from reused, salvaged and recycled/repurposed materials. If you're ever in Denver, you must go.


No Mary Ann Either
My only cons of Denver: 1. people can be a little gruff and inconsiderate with your personal space. 2. There's apparently no gingerale available in the entire town. I tried to order a Jack and Ginger on more than one occassion, only to be met with a quizzical look or blank stare as the bartender replied, "uhhh we don't have ginger..." Thinking they thought I meant actual ginger, I would clarify, "gingerALE." When met with another "no," accompanied with a look of "I knew what you meant, dumbass," I first went in the opposite direction and settled for a lemon drop. The second time they had already poured the Jack Daniels in the glass so I just went with that. Made my scratchy throat feel much better.

Familiar Feel
While wandering around downtown Denver, I stopped into sports memorabilia and souvenier store. Now, the city of Denver has been good to my boys in orange and I was therefore tempted to buy either a Todd Helton / Rockies shirt or a Broncos shirt in honor of Al Wilson. You've heard me speak of my love of Al Wilson before, but for your amusing bit o' sports trivia for the day, I will tell you about the other. Todd Helton attended the University of Tennessee on both a football and baseball scholarship. Legend has it, he was debating about whether to switch to baseball full time, but couldn't make up his mind. In football he was one of two backup quarterbacks and early in the season of his sophomore year (I believe), the starting quarterback suffered a season-ending injury. At the next practice, the two backup quarterbacks vied for the starting position and Helton's mind was quickly made up - he would leave football - and went on to an amazing baseball career with Tennessee and then the Rockies. The other backup quarterback: Peyton Manning.

Resistance is Futile. Cue the Dirge.
It was decided that my new place of employment does not have enough of an online presence, including social media. It was also decided that I would be responsible for improving that presence, finding ways to market our organization through social media, and keeping an eye on what our competitors are up to out there in the interwebs. So, guess who had to join Facebook against her will and better judgement? And guess whose time has been heard loudly sucked through the tubes of said interwebs in the mere 24 hours since she opened an account? Kill me now. That said... if you want to "friend" me and don't already know my real name, just click over there on the right and send me an email.


And finally... speaking of clicking over there to the right... if you've got any money or time left, what with all the other craziness in the world, my beloved city is under about 10-feet of water and we could use a hand. Many thanks.

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Nashville Flooding
http://www.thedailyshow.com/
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Tea Party

Scenes from Early in the Morning

On the one month anniversary of my new job, I would like to say that it is great.

But it has not been without its challenges.

Yesterday I had to read something titled, "Consequences of Misspecifications in Growth Curve and Other Multilevel Models."

So... yeah... there's that...

The main challenge though has been that I need to be at work at 7:30 in the morning.

For those of you out there who are naturally early risers, farmers, or have children, please commence your mocking now...

Done? Okay.

I am trying. So very hard. The good news is it causes amusing things to happen that make for excellent blog-fodder.

Scenes from Early in the Morning #1:

Know where a hard-boiled egg fits nicely?

A quaint and delicate egg cup.

A quaint and delicate egg cup (even though I don't own one) placed alongside a small plate with a piece of whole-wheat toast topped with preserves purchased from the farmers market and a beautiful glass of cranberry juice. All placed on the table in the kitchen so that you can gaze out the window at the morning awaiting you.

Know where else a hard-boiled egg also fits nicely?

That little zippered side pocket in your purse.

That little zippered side pocket in your purse where you toss it as you dash through the kitchen grabbing something that you can eat in the car or at your desk. This occurs after you have gone from the bedroom, to the home office and back to the bedroom looking for your cell phone only to remember you left it in the kitchen and before you trip out the door, leaving your coffee on the counter.

But really... the fact that I had the presence of mind to hard-boil a half-dozen eggs on Sunday and put them in a bowl in the refrigerator AND get a coffee maker with a timer on it so that it's already done when I get up is really quite an accomplishment in and of itself.

So I'm counting this as a win.

Stuff You Probably Already Know But I'm Going to Use This Post to Ramble on About it Anyway

I now work for a very serious organization that does very important and serious things. And we all just got Skype on our computers. Ooooh Lordeee, it's been all kinds of nerdy fun over here this week.

Tourism is an important part of the economy here in Nashville. But do we really have to have tourists? Especially the dude that asked me for directions with a cigarette barely balanced on his lower lip. WHILE I WAS PUMPING GAS. And the couple in front of me in line at the barbeque place who had to have a seven minute discussion with the guy behind the counter: "The sign says pork. Is it a pork chop? No? What kind of pork is it? Pulled pork? What does that mean?" And it's only April. From now until September it's only going to get exponentially more special each month. It's a good thing I don't work in PR for the visitor's bureau: "Welcome to Nashville. Now, please go sit quietly over there until it's time for you to leave."

The original Tea Party was about taxation without representation. So... to those in charge of this new concoction of the Tea Party... bless your hearts... please change your name. You HAVE representation. It's just that you aren't happy about it. And that's fine. Just please call yourselves the Red Bull or the Mountain Dew Party or something else more fitting.

NPR is awesome. Van Morrison is awesome. NPR's discussing Van Morrison for an hour is way beyond awesome. Our local affiliate just recently switched from playing coma-inducing classical music all day between ME and ATC (you know you're officially a dork when you refer to NPR programs by acronyms...) to an all-talk format: On Point, Talk of the Nation, Fresh Air, etc. You would not believe the complaining that people have done about it. I don't understand. I mean, did they not just hear what I heard? Talking about Van Morrison. And the way all of your insides feel when he growls out those lines like "And IIIIIII want to rock yourrrrr Gypsy sooooulll" or "Sheee's. As sweeeeet. Aaa-aas. Tupelo honeeeey." For a whole hour. Made my day. Can you tell?

God's grace and forgiveness applies to everyone. But I am having a really hard time wanting this to be true for certain despicable owners of coal mines and "parents" who return their adopted children.

Things still really suck in Haiti. And it's about to start raining. A lot. Please don't forget about them. If you've been wanting to give money but haven't - or if you want to give even more - click up there on the right.

Dixie Carter's death is a huge loss and I am sad. But, I bet my friend Eddie is pretty psyched.

Spring "Break" 2010

Many apologies for my bloggy absence.

It's been a busy spring.

• First, I got a second job. More about that in a minute...
  
• Then I've been trying to find homes for several pieces of furniture and a refrigerator that have been taking up valuable real estate in my living room and kitchen. The refrigerator, canIjusttellyou, was only just removed this past Friday. Yes, that is correct. This. Past. Friday. It's been sitting in the middle of the kitchen since this happened. Trust me, nothing makes a tiny kitchen feel even tinier with a second refrigerator IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FLOOR.
  
• Then there was Lent and Palm Sunday and Holy Week and Easter and all the pomp and circumstance and time suckage (sorry, Jesus) that comes with it.
  
• There was also the great health care debate, the rise of the Tea Party, and Sarah Palin coming back like a bad rash - so you know I've been pretty busy cleaning up every time that pesky head of mine explodes.
  
• Sometime in there March Madness began, of course, and has consumed a vast amount of time. But what an amazingly great tournament it has been! I'm watching the final game as I write this and keeping the faith that Butler will pull through. My Ohio University Bobcats whipped Georgetown, but then had to play Tennessee. My Tennessee boys beat OU and then made it past the Sweet Sixteen for the first time - in school history - thanks to a nail-biter against Ohio State. They did lose a heart-breaker to Michigan State BUT the good news is I finished third in our basketball pool.
  
• In the middle of all this was my birthday. Woo hoo! Or boo hoo. Depending on your perspective. The final year of my thirties has begun. Then again, much of my thirties has not been kind to my mental health, so maybe I should be happy to turn a new corner.

And speaking of turning a new corner...

• That part time job I mentioned at the beginning of this post? It's now my new full time job! You're looking at a communications coordinator WITH health insurance. Medical, dental AND vision.
  
  That's right, I'm fancy.
  
  I would have taken this job just for the fact that I no longer also have to be the office manager / tech support / lackey / fixer of spreadsheets for crazy bitches for no additional money. The rest - like a 403(b), life insurance, tuition reimbursement, and more money for only doing one job - is merely gravy.
  
  I still work for a non-profit, but now it's one in education, not the environment. That part was a bit difficult, but I know it will be the right move in the long run. It also means you're going to have to endure a lot of tirades and ramblings about climate change, water conservation and polar bears and shit since I won't be using up brain cells on these things at work any more. (Not that I worked with or thought about polar bears much at my former job, but you know what I mean...)

So I hope your spring has been exciting as well. It's been 80+ degrees for the last four days and I completed the first yard mowing of the year today. I guess that means summer is on its way whether I like it or not.

Don't know about you, but I think I'm ready for a vacation.

"Hey - is that snot on your sleeve and a laptop-shaped hole in your wall?"

Word to the wise... here are two very unfortunate combinations from Sunday evening that I wholeheartedly do not recommend:

1. A raging case of PMS, sinus meds, and a special on the 1980 U.S. hockey team.

2. A raging case of PMS, sinus meds, and attempting to hook up a new wireless router.

You're welcome.


Post update - apparently I sounded much more awful than was actually the case. It was just the perfect storm of circumstances that resulted in an evening of nostalgic weeping and then hair-pulling frustration. No computers were actually harmed. All is good. :)

My Presidents Day Photo Project

Old Man Winter still has a few tricks up the sleeves of his parka. We got another round of snow and are supposed to get a little more tonight. I would be enjoying my snow day even more if it weren't already a holiday in which I'd planned to be at home. Oh well. My agenda of sitting on my ass hasn't been inconvenienced all that much now that I think about, so I guess I'll live.

And, in honor of Abe and George, here's a few shots of Presidents Day from my neck of the woods.

1. My brother gave me a nice sweater that he didn't want anymore.

It's a woolly J Crew number that's too big and bulky for me to be wearing in public, but comes in handy when you're hanging out around the house on a Snow/Presidents Day. I have another sweater of this ilk but it is the last remaining item in the ex-boyfriend collection. It probably has too much bad chi to keep, but is something I haven't been able to part with because of its good, hanging-out-around-the-house qualities. Hopefully this new acquisition will get me one step closer to sending the it and its chi to Goodwill for them to deal with.



2. Nothing I enjoy more than a losing battle...

Me: "Off the couch. Off the couch. Off the couch. Off the couch. Off the couch."

Me: [leaves the office/den and then returns only a few moments later]

Me: "Seriously?!"



3. Hand-me-downs Continued.

In addition to inheriting a sweater, I also inherited a refrigerator from my mother. A real grown-up refrigerator with a door that seals all the way without having to smoosh the bottom corner shut with your foot. First order of business was NOT to transfer the food from the old refrigerator that is plugged into an extension cord and sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor. That's just crazy talk. No, it was to move the refrigerator magnets, photos and humorous whatnot.

You can give a girl a grown-up refrigerator,
but it doesn't mean she'll suddenly act like one.
A grown-up, that is, not a refrigerator...

Getting it in the house was an adventure. My brother and two friends (who fancy themselves my surrogate brothers) moved it for me on Saturday. During the week prior - and twice more the day of - I was asked by my mother, actual brother, one faux brother and my father if I had measured the refrigerator to make sure it would fit. I came to be a little agitated at all the asking. "You know, I'm not as dumb as I look," I said to actual brother. "Yes. I measured. You're the fourth person to ask," I said with a slight growl to faux brother.

And I had measured. Just not correctly it seems. And for some reason it never occurred to me to measure the doorway at my mother's house. I mean... just because their house was built a good 40 or 50 years before refrigerators were even invented, why should there be any problem with it fitting through the front door? Again, that's just crazy talk.

So the refrigerator and freezer door had to be removed and then the little bolts that attach the casters to the bottom got hung up on the storm door at my house and required two people to balance the refrigerator on one end while a third person squatted beneath the tipped up end to tighten up the bolts enough to get it through the door.

The brothers - both actual and faux - were none too amused.

Thankfully real brother got over it quickly - probably because our shared DNA causes him to create these situations as well.

The other two can be bought off with alcohol and banana pudding.

So we're all good for now, but I'll see what kind of problems I can stir up between now and Ash Wednesday.

Hope you enjoyed your Presidents Day!