It all goes back to a Country Song

It's true. It does. It all goes back to a Country song. The 'it' being, anything, everything. Anything and everything in life goes back to a Country song.

It's kind of like a game, similar to in 'My Big Fat Greek Wedding' where the father asks for a word, any word and he will find the Greek origin. Some words are hard to find the connection, but in the end, he finds it. The same is true with Country songs. Give me a situation, an example, a story from someone's life or life in general, and I will find a country song that fits it! In other words, there is a Country song that defines or refers to any situation in life. Got your truck stuck? 'Find out who your friends are' or 'Truck stuck Blues' deals with that. Find yourself grateful for a wish that did not come true? 'Thank God for Unanswered Prayers' is just the song! Ever feel like the grass is greener elsewhere? 'You're gonna miss this, You're gonna want this back' gives a little perspective. Heck, even the name of my blog is the first line of a Garth Brooks Song! Some connections are easy, while others are a little tricky, but I promise it can be done!

This little 'game' of finding the right song to match the appropriate situation was started by myself and some friends not too long ago. It's very informal and usually happens spontaneously. Someone will be talking and if they say something that sounds like a song, another person quotes the song and if the people present get the connection or understand that a 'game' of sorts is being played, kudos! But some people aren't quick enough or familiar enough with the many amazing Country songs out there, and in many ways, they lose! Another way to play the game, is to drop lines of a song in the middle of a conversation, as if it was an original thought, or a totally normal comment. Again, if the people present get the reference, Kudos! It is such a rewarding feeling to line drop and have someone look at you, smile, and quote the song! Yes! You know what I'm talking about! You are awesome!

What does this say about country music, other than the fact that it is amazing? Well, it obviously speaks to every day life of the every day American. Unlike the commonly held misconception that it is hick music for that toothless farmer whose wife left him for his cousin, it has morphed into songs we can all relate to. Songs about finding love, getting married, raising little girls, watching them grow up, going out for a good time, celebrating the life of honored citizens, cross generations, Mama's cooking, Small town living, sitting on the front porch, Come on, what’s not to like about all that??

So give Country music a try, and give the game a try. You will quickly realize that, it all goes back to a country song!

Odd Jobs.

Odd jobs. I do odd jobs. Yup. Not all of them are actually odd, but the hours, the pay, the consistency and the lifestyle all adds up to something more odd than the average persons existence. I clean. I organize. I split firewood. I garden. I haul heavy stuff in wheelbarrows. I pick kids up from school. I cook. I run errands. I pay the post office box fee for others. I babysit. I elder sit. I drive people. Lots of airport runs (no money is involved in those though). I help orchestrate a fund raising golf tournament (also no money involved). I make deliveries. I pick things up. I take animals to the vet. I eat other people's food (huge perk to the job, and I do a lot of it!). I do good work. People refer me. Then they tell two friends, and they tell two friends, and before you know it, I have a full fledged odd job career!

Yes, I am college educated and even have a bachelors degree to prove it. I know many are wondering why I am doing the work that any joe-six-pack could do and why I am not doing something worthy of my degree. Well, I partly blame the economy and the fact that there just aren't any jobs out there. But a big part of me is almost glad that I am not able to get one of those jobs. As odd as my schedule and income are, I secretly like it. This kind of existence comes with a great amount of freedom. Freedom to create my own schedule and do as I please. I like being able to drop everything and go on a road trip. I like the fact that I was able to travel internationally for months at a time. I like that I am able to attend most every occasion, such as weddings, graduations, parties, and events without work getting in the way. And I love that I don't have to commute and sit in a cubicle.

I guess at some point I need to figure something out that is more professional and fitting for my education. But for now, being odd is just fine with me!

Surprise.

This week my mom turned, uh well a milestone age that she probably wouldn’t want mentioned. It was determined that the unofficial theme would be ‘surprises’. The first surprise starting a few days before the birthday. Her best friend from Nebraska flew in. This secret had to be kept by a few of us for a few months, which got increasingly hard to keep as the time got closer. I was designated to pick up this cargo, as mom would be less suspecting of me making up a false alibi. Returning from the airport, I led the way into the house, with mom and the family settled into the couch with the usual circus of children, doing whatever it is they do. Upon seeing this surprise visitor, mom’s blank stare lasted a few seconds and instantly turned into the biggest, loudest, most combustive explosion from her the I have ever seen. Jumping, screaming, yelling, crying, laughing, the works. All caught on video. Ah, relief, the secret is out and I don’t have to worry about inadvertently spilling the beans. Sike. Little did I know, that I was about to embark on yet another list of lies and secret keeping.

My brother decides to tell my Alaskan sister that if she was a good daughter she would come down for her mother’s birthday. Boom, it’s on! Mom and dad are both oblivious to this secret which makes it ever harder to keep. Sister flies in, and again, I am the cargo picker-upper. And again, another false alibi. This surprise-reveal took place in a public setting; Costco. Little did the shoppers of the Santa Cruz Costco know, that when they went shopping that morning that they would witness such a scream-fest! Sis and I knew that she was coming, so we hid in the bakery section, waiting. Mom and her Nebraskan friend come down the aisle and begin to look through the frozen seafood. I fish my camera out of my purse and turn the video recorder on. Sis walks up to mom and starts to nonchalantly chat her up about a bread purchase. Instant-mom-freak-out! ‘AAAHHHH!!!! What are you doing here?? AHH. I can’t believe you’re here!!!!!’ You know, pretty routine mom stuff! Again, all caught on video. Finally! The cat is out of the bag and I don’t have to worry and fret about accidentally saying too much.

Next, dad and friend take mom on a surprise boat ride on the famous Chardonnay, a local favorite that sails around the bay. They enjoyed a clear evening of food, wine, and stunning sights.

But the best surprise is still yet to come. Birthday dinner with all the family and a few friends to boot. Yummy food. Plenteous amounts of wine. Even a cake. All followed by presents. Yes, presents. She got some pretty good stuff. But the best present, which also turned out to be the best surprise, was from the eldest son. Something mom has been asking for. Something all of us secretly want but are too embarrassed to admit. Something no one can really live without once they own it. What am I referring to? The one and only; SNUGGIE!!!! Yes, that is correct. Mom got a Snuggie! Laughter and excitement ensued, while we all looked on and wished that we were the ones that got such a present! It got passed around and tried on by many of us (David, your Snuggie post came to mind, but I win cuz I have a pic of myself in one!). Wow. What a surprise. Mom counted her blessings and was so thankful for her week of surprises. Although she won’t admit, we all know her favorite surprise was the coveted Snuggie!

Way back.

Sorry Hannah! I had to! I just found this and thought it was necessary to share! Proof that we do go waaaay back! It's a shame I don't have those overalls anymore.

The Age of Innocence, literally

I have the enjoyment and reality of 4 niece-nephew-things living up-stairs. That’s right. 4 little ones, popping up in quite unexpected places and occasionally at inopportune times. They have been instructed by their parents to ask, at the top of the stairs, if they can come down or not. But would we ever be able to resist such a request? Nope. We can’t, so they come down often. On one occasion, Katherine, the four year old one was watching a little American Idol with me. I especially like this one, the child I mean, because I have hand-crafted her into the sarcastic, sassy, entertaining, with often witty-come-backs child that she is. I don’t always treat her like a child. I kinda treat her like my side-kick amigo and communicate with her in lingo that is probably beyond her, but she gets it, and I don’t care. Anyway, on this particular evening, she was sitting comfortably on my lap, under our shared blanket. Commercial time. One particular commercial was for Salinas Valley Medical, a local hospital (probably unnecessary and obvious detail). And in this commercial, a very pregnant mother was shown, receiving attention at the hospital. The following is the conversation that transpired between Aunt and niece. Priceless. You can’t make this stuff up!

Katherine: Look, there’s a mom with a baby in her tummy!

Me: Oh, yeah. Hmmm, I don’t have a baby in my tummy do I? (This may seem like a weird thing for me to say, but if you are familiar with girls at this age, babies in tummies is a constant topic of conversation, and something that she has talked to me able in great lengths)

Katherine: Noooo Bekah, ack. You have to have a daddy first! Chello!

Me: Oh, that’s right! Hmmmm.

Katherine: Don’t worry Bekah! I’ll help you find a daddy!

Me: You will? Gee thanks!

Katherine: Oh!! I know. What about Erik?!!! He would be a good daddy!

Me: Excuse me! No! Katherine, Erik will never be the father of my children! Next!

Katherine: Oh, well who else? (fist clenched, pointer finger tapping on the side of her forehead in deep, well kinda deep thought)

Me: So, Katherine, how do you plan on helping me find a daddy?

Katherine: Well, I’m not too sure.

Me: Well, did you plan for us to go to K-Mart (Total lead-on question, cuz everyone knows that K-mart is her favorite store. Does the capital K in the name give any hint as to why it’s her favorite store?)

Katherine: Oh YEAH!!! K-Mart!!!

My Mom: What about the lumber yard? There’s always lots of boys there!

Katherine: Oh, that’s a good idea! And we can get some pop corn while we are there! (What do you know, one stop shopping for the freebee lover in all of us)

Me: So Katherine, if we went to the lumber yard and saw a guy there that looked like he would be a good daddy, what would we do? Would you say something to him?

Katherine: Yes, I would say hi.

Me: Ok, let’s pretend that I am a guy at the lumber yard and you are you. Let’s pretend that you see me. ‘Oh hello little girl, what’s your name?’

Katherine: Hi (quite giddish-like) I’m Katherine

Me: Well hello Katherine, My name is Bob. What are you up to today?

Katherine: Well, I am looking for a daddy for my auntie. (She meant a daddy for my children, but you get the point)

Me: Oh, really?

Katherine: Yes, would you like to be the daddy for my aunt Rebekah?

Me: Wow, well I guess I would need to meet her first. Where is she?

Katherine: Oh, she’s standing right her next to me!

Need I go any further?? Not only is this interaction priceless, but when was the last time you saw a four year old role play?? She acted it out like a veteran pro! I am not worried about finding a ‘daddy’ but if I ever feel a little anxious, I can rest assured with the knowledge that someone has my back!

Wrestling: It's a family Tradition

If you know my family, you know that we are all about one activity; wrestling. A long-standing pastime and tradition, most likely originated in my dad’s Karate days (him being a black belt and all). As children, we begged and begged for ‘papa’ to wrestle with us. He would ‘let us win’ leading us to think we were getting good, good enough to challenge a black belt! All the neighborhood boys would, from time to time, beg him to take them all on at once, and he would oblige.

Circa 1990

As siblings, Jason and I would argue in the form of wrestling, meaning, when we were mad at each other, we would solve it with violence. This form of ‘conflict resolution’ worked in my favor only as long as I was bigger than him, since when you are bigger, dead weight trumps skill. But as he grew, so did his muscles and my only advantage diminished. We solved many problems with wrestling. But now, I usually just avoid this pastime with the brothers, cuz I don’t win anymore. If I want to ‘get’ them, my only defense is tickling. A seemingly girlish, copout tactic, but it’s my only option! Have you seen the size of these guys?!

Dad and Brother, Circa 1988/89

My mom wishes this tradition would just go away. The men in the house cannot walk past each other without ‘starting something up.’ They can’t! They HAVE to jab, attack, pin, squeeze, twist, grunt, and knock over the furniture on a regular basis. How many times has my mom called out these phrases:

‘Can we please just have one nice Thanksgiving dinner without chaos and wrestling?’

‘Is it too much to ask to not wrestle in the car, while driving, just once?’

‘We just can’t have nice things!’

‘Stop wresting when the guests are here, and stop wrestling with the guests!’

Sorry mom, this tradition ain’t going no where! The grandkids have gotten in on the action too. Now they are the little ones running down here begging papa to wrestle with them. This family ‘tradition’ or ‘sport’ is deep seeded in our name. When males think of my dad, many think of having their hand squeezed to half its size in a hand shake, or getting a ‘massage’ that leaves only pain and no relief. Others still, recall being called a ‘little pencil neck’ time and time again. So, take this post as a disclaimer. If you are a victim of this family ‘tradition’ please know that it is nothing personal. It’s just what we do!