A more gentle life

We're doing ok, not great, but ok. I don't know how but we are.

I went to work for a few hours on Thursday, grabbed my laptop and worked from home for the rest of the week. I was beginning to dread going back to work on Monday so thought I'd try easing back into work gently. I'm glad I did. I almost lost it while walking in the building but managed to hold on. The place literally vibrates with action and stress but I saw lots of friendly faces and began to feel better.

I had a doctor's appointment to check on my recently rising blood pressure. I was explaining what happened to Dad while having my blood pressure taken and it shot through the roof. They turned down the lights and had me lie on my side and go to my happy place for 5 minutes so we could try again. I took a while but I eventually thought of snorkeling.

It's a memory that does not involve Dad, so it wouldn't make me cry, but is absolutely a happy place in my mind. Of course I thought of floating and watching fish and the turtles I've seen. Then I remembered the shark that once came a little too close and I was back to freaking out a bit. After 5 minutes my blood pressure was considerably better. It was a great illustration of how bad stress is for us. I was amazed at how quickly my body began to freak out on me. I really do need to start walking more.

More than anything I'm learning that I really just want a more gentle life. The stress is ridiculous and my attitude has changed considerably in the past few weeks. While I'm easily brought to tears I find that I'm not as bothered by the little things anymore. Death immediately puts things into perspective.

This morning I woke up around 6:00 am and really enjoyed the quiet. Of course, I quickly ruined it by turning on the tv but it was for a Seinfeld episode so it was alright. Later, I scrambled some eggs while listening to The Swingin' Years and that made me happy. I then decided that I need to get up earlier and shun all electronic devices until 8:00 am each morning. (Well, all devices except maybe a radio or iPod.) I found a new blog that promotes a more zen lifestyle. I was particularly interested in the waking up early recommendation. I'm gonna give it a try.

Update

Dad's memorial was amazing. My sister-in-law told me that it would be hard but that I would look back on the day as a nice one. She was right. We aren't sure how many people came but we're pretty sure it was over our 250 person estimate.

Mom is NOT a fan of entertaining because it stresses her out but she did very well. At one point she got a little dizzy because she hadn't eaten anything. Luckily she was talking with an old friend when it hit her and the friend insisted she sit down and eat something. She did and recovered quickly.

I saw so many wonderful friends from my life but was disappointed that I didn't get to spend much time with all of them. It took me over an hour to get down to the lower yard because so many friends and family stopped to chat with me. That was nice.

I heard lots of funny/nice stories about Dad that I'd never heard before. I swear every one of my brother's friends had a story about Dad talking them into carrying large stones up and down the steps to help him build his stone walls in the backyard. They also talked about what an amazing basketball player he was when they were in high school and college and how they could never beat him... losing often meant carrying those damn rocks . Several birders stopped to tell me about how they began birding and eventually worked in fields of conservation because they happened to run into Dad when they were beginning birders and Dad showed them the bird they were chasing and their love of birding was born. Many men stopped to tell me that Dad had been a father figure to them and helped them through some very tough times. One man told me and Mom that our bathroom had special meaning to him. (?!) It seems that following his divorce he continued to wear his wedding ring. One day Dad said "enough", took him in my bathroom, soaped up his ring finger and made him take it off. The man said that that event was truly the beginning of him moving on after his split.

As for me, I'm doing alright. Mom and I refer to our crying jags at "meltdowns". I was doing ok but yesterday I lost it around 2:00 pm. That's about the time Dad would typically come home from a day of weekend birding. Not hearing the door open and him saying "Hey there!" was rough. I hung on until last night when I went into his office to turn on the backyard lights. The kids stayed over and wanted the lights on in case the bear walked by. (He didn't). Going into Dad's office was alright until I saw his slippers. Until last Christmas Dad never wore slippers. He had flat feet and most slippers just wound up hurting his feet. I did a little research this past Christmas and found some super cool slip on slippers with a lot of arch support. Dad loved them. Seeing those slippers in his office just set me off.

A surprising issue now seems to be exhaustion. I've been taking a "nerve pill" every night for the past week and a half and I think it's getting to me. I can barely keep my eyes open before noon. I finally gave in and took a nap this afternoon. It helped.

A silly source of comfort has been watching mindless tv. My current favorites are Seinfeld and The Andy Griffin Show. They couldn't be more opposite but they manage to gently take my mind off things. I've just ordered the complete Seinfeld series. My brother loves it too so I figure we can share it.

I'm planning on staying home the next week to be with Mom and to take care of some of the remaining tasks at hand. I may go into work for a bit on Thursday of Friday depending on how I'm feeling. I've got a follow up appt with my doctor to check on my stress and blood pressure. I can't imagine all of this is helping my blood pressure. That will be an interesting appt.

So that's where I am. Again, I'm still breathing. I can't explain why but loud non-stop noise is hard to manage right now so Mom and I are spending a lot of time together because so far we seem to be on the same trajectory on this journey. Mostly we just want to be lay low, be quiet, watch movies, talk a bit and get some rest.

My family and I have a wonderful set of understanding friends. They have been very comforting and have made us feel so loved. I will be forever grateful to them for that. Sadly, most of my dearest friends have been through this kind of loss. I have received very kind words of advice. Mostly, I've been told to just go with it and to not bother fighting my feelings. I believe that will be the best way to get through this. I know we will be ok eventually. I'll get to some more fun posts soon. Thanks for indulging me. I've found that writing or journaling helps me work through things. I suppose this public venue isn't appropriate but... whatever. It helps. Thanks for your patience.

Lessons in grief

I'm learning a lot from this awful experience. All of the rituals of loss and grief are beginning to make sense.

First, the phone calls start. That's natural. People want to know if you're ok and what they can do. Nowadays the texts, emails, voicemail messages and Facebook postings also come. For me, they have all been incredibly supportive and helpful.

Flowers come soon after the messages. I never really understood this tradition. I figured it was an attempt to cheer up a grieving person but now I know that it does more than that. It helps your home smell nice and feel inviting for the guests that come. I burst into tears when the first bouquet arrived. I still feel bad for that poor delivery guy. He proudly presented the flowers to me with a cheerful "I have flowers for you!". I choked out a "Thank you" and sobbed as I closed the door. He literally ran away.

Food comes almost almost as quickly as the flowers. I always believed this was for the grieving family so they didn't have to worry about cooking for a while. It certainly does that but it also helps you feed visitors. I'd soy most importantly the food is there to remind you to eat. I am an overweight person and have been for most of my life. I've done reasonable challenging things like get a degree and get in and out of bad relationships. I've gotten out of considerable debt and managed to save up a little nest egg. I've done some tough things but losing weight has been my personal Mt. Everest. I've been making plans to tackle it but this grief now makes me wonder what all the trouble with my weight is about. Now I literally forget to eat. Friends who have been through this have called to remind me to eat. Two days in a row I mentioned to my friend Stacey that I'd had a 1/4 of a BBQ chicken sandwich for lunch. She sighed and said "Lucy, it's not supposed to take you 4 days to eat a sandwich." To which I replied "But it's from The Claim Jumper." She wasn't impressed.

My core group of friends have been wonderful. I know their efforts have not been coordinated but the timing is such that you'd swear it had been planned. They have stopped by, called, texted and made themselves entirely available all without being intrusive. Too many of them have lived through losing a parent themselves, sometimes both, and they entirely understand. Most folks are wonderful but a few have been completely stupid and insensitive. When one person I work with asked how I was doing I mentioned that I was ok but not really eating. Her reply was "Oh good! Whatever it takes, right?" OMG. I've always thought this person had an unhealthy body image issue. Now I'm sure of it.

My Dad's wishes were ALWAYS to be cremated. I've known this about him for as long as I've known about death. Well, my alcoholic, Catholic aunt called to argue with my Mom about this choice. She called in a slurred voice to tell Mom that she wasn't comfortable with the cremation. Again, OMG. Luckily we don't give a crap about her opinion. This is an aunt from out-of-state who we see about once a decade. She's been drunk dialing Dad lately during Laker and Dodgers games. What a fool.

Then there are the surprising sources of comfort from people I haven't spoken to in a while. The younger brother of an ex boyfriend from college called. Their father died when I was dating his brother. That was about 20 years ago. I remember it well. I doubt I was very comforting at the time, I was very young, but I genuinely liked their Dad and felt that loss. Well, this younger brother called and had some of the kindest most gentle advise I've received. Another friend I've worked with for several years called. He too has lost a father. He offered some very nice opened minded sort of advise that I truly appreciated.

That's the funny thing about this whole tragedy. Some sources of comfort are counted on while others are entirely unexpected... stunningly so.

A friend from work dropped off a bag of things at my doorstep early one morning. In it I found my glasses, a book and a journal. I set the bag aside but finally looked at it all today. I lifted the journal and a card fell out. It was from an unassuming woman I've worked with for years. We are friendly but we don't go to lunches together or see each other outside of work. She is really more of an acquaintance. She had written such a nice note. I then noticed the journal wasn't empty. It had been filled with dozens of notes from friends at work. I read a few messages, began sobbing and had to set it aside. I'll return to it again later.

The outpouring of grief and sympathy has been astonishing. Some of my Dad's oldest friends were almost choked unconscious with stunned sadness as we broke the news. I've heard some of my all time favorite grown men stumble and wail with grief over the phone. It's been just plain awful but I know exactly how they feel and know it has to come out. I don't know if you've ever had to share this kind of news with friends and family but it is, hands down, one the worst things about this whole ordeal.

Mom has received several calls where she can hear someone on the other line but they just can't speak. I think they hear her voice, begin to cry and can't speak. Rather than upset Mom by choking out a "Hello" they just hang up and try again later.

I take a "nerve pill" every night at 10:00 pm, fall asleep between 11:00 pm and midnight then awaken around 6:00 am. My sleep has been uninterrupted, dark and dreamless. It sort of feels like a little death in itself. I hear the dreams will come and that I should welcome them as I would a nice visit with Dad. I'm glad I haven't had any dreams about Dad yet. I don't know if I could take them at this point.

When Daddy died he was with a dear friend who desperately tried to get help to him but they were in such a remote part of the San Gabriel mountains that help didn't arrive until about 5 hours later. As horrified as I am for what my dad went through I'm just as upset for his dear friend. I don't believe my Dad really knew what was happening to him following the fall. His friend, on the other hand, had to live through the ordeal and, I believe is a candidate for Post Traumatic Stress. He's a great guy who reminds me of the man my sweet nephew will be in about 20 years. I will be eternally grateful to him for being there with my Dad when we couldn't be. I hope he gets through this ok. I'm really worried about him.

Of course, I also worry about my brother and my Mom. My brother is moving on to the anger stage of grief and is managing it by keeping busy. Mom seems to be on the same cycle I'm on. I think we're still numb. I wouldn't call is denial, just numbness. I'm so grateful that I'm living at home. I have been obsessed with buying a home of my own and now I'm so incredibly relieved that I'm here with Mom during this time. I can't imagine anything worse than being in escrow or in a new house right now. Thank God, or fate, or circumstance that I'm here with her.

I've learned that grief turns your mind to mush. Words and names often escape me. I know why people need some time off to get through this. I would be worthless at work right now. On the other hand I've found some very calm clarity about some things. Like my crazy alcoholic aunt. My brother is very angry at her because he thinks she upset Mom. She didn't. Mom doesn't really care what that woman thinks so she wasn't upset, just mildly annoyed. I, on the other hand, feel very protective of Mom but I also understand that my aunt has a disease that makes her selfish and ridiculous. People and things that normally make me crazy just sort of roll off my back these days. I'm much more patient than normal. I understand that my brother's anger, while directed at my aunt, is really about this situation. He, by the way, has been amazing. My Dad would be so proud of the way he has swooped in to help Mom. He's been here every day to help with the planning for the memorial. I've decided that we make an impressive team and support system for each other.

I don't know what I did to get so lucky as to be part of this family but I am eternally grateful for them and to my Dad for being who he was to establish such an amazing family. Thanks Daddy.

Dad

What can I say except that I am entirely heartbroken about the recent death of my father. He was a healthy, vibrant, 70 year old man who fell while hiking and died soon after sustaining fatal injuries. We are still in shock but feel such tremendous sadness it's almost unbearable.

My Dad was an active birder/naturalist in Southern California and active on most of the birding message boards. Yesterday I took the time to read some of the wonderful posts people had written about him on CalBirds. I decided to write one myself. I wanted to have a copy of it for myself so I decided to post it here now. Here is what I wrote:

***

I've been reading the posts on my father, Mike San Miguel, and am
overwhelmed by all of your kind words. I thank each and every one of
you for taking the time to post your memories of Dad. They mean so much
to us.

The birding bug never bit me but I joke that I "bird through osmosis".
Let's just say I had an unfortunate run in with a gang of quail that
scared me half to death, at the age of 3, and I never fully recovered.
Still, I was included (or should I say dragged along?) on many birding
expeditions. However, my fondest and most vivid birding memory is
seeing three California Condors flying in the wild back in the 70's.
Even at that young age I knew it was a big deal and I remember those
glorious condors gliding through the air as if it were yesterday. It
was a beautiful sight and it was the moment I understood why Dad spent
so much time chasing and banding birds. I was in awe.

Because of those excursions I can't tell you how many times I've
startled myself with my accidental birding knowledge. I recall once
hearing a Red Tailed Hawk misidentified on NPR and saying out loud, with
disgust "That's not a Bald Eagle. That's a Red-Tailed Hawk!" I later
told Dad about it explaining, "I couldn't help it, it just slipped
out." Dad loved it.

Dad didn't know much about movies, or celebrities or pop culture in
general and I think he had it right. The world would be a better place
if we all just did as Daddy did and gave our attention to the natural
world. Daddy taught me so many more things than I can list but more
than anything he taught me to stop and take time to notice the beauty of
nature. He marveled at the smallest things and would always take the
time to share them with me. I recall sitting with him at our back yard
table and watching as he gently weighed, measured and banded God knows
how many birds. I'll miss that.

While birding was Dad's most time consuming passion, for the past couple
of decades, it was really all things in nature that he adored. He knew
all about Southern Californian native plants, reptiles and, more
recently, butterflies. I remember walking by the living room one day
and noticed daddy sitting very quietly in his chair, with a crossword
puzzle in his lap, no sports on the tv, gazing out the window. I walked
by much later to find him still sitting in his chair mesmerized by
something. As you know Dad didn't sit still much so I finally asked
what he was doing. He silently pointed out the window. I looked out
and didn't see much. He said "Look up. The butterflies are migrating.
I've been watching them for hours. They're incredible." I sat down
beside him and watched for a long, long time as an amazing jet stream of
butterflies fluttered, almost single file, over the oak tree, down into
the back yard then up over the house. He was right it was amazing.
It's something I never would have noticed on my own. I will never
forget the look of tranquility on Dad's face that day.

We rarely disagreed but I do remember what was possibly our most epic
argument. I was wrapping up my degree at Cal State Long Beach when, one
morning, Dad asked me to take a bird to Dr. Collins at the university.
Turns out he wanted me to carry a frozen Cooper's Hawk in my back pack
down to Charlie. I refused. He simply could not understand why I
wouldn't do it. I'll bet some of you can't either, but I can tell you a
20-year-old young woman is NOT interested in being a mule for defrosting
bird of prey. Dad quickly forgave me and I spent the next 20 years
teasing him about it. Much later he admitted that is was pretty gross.

I now sit with his wedding ring on a chain around my neck. As far as I
know Mom put the ring on his finger in 1964 and it didn't come off until
a few terrible days ago. I will miss my sweet, wonderful Dad for the
rest of my life. I will never get over this loss. It sometimes sucks
the breath right out of me. The only good news is that because Dad was
such a wonderful family man, Mom, Michael and I are left with no
regrets. We all know how much we love each other. We also all agree
that Dad would have never survived losing one of us. He had many great
strengths but losing one of us would have just about killed him. Now
Daddy will never know what this kind of loss feels like and for that I
am grateful.

My Mom, Dad and now Michael's family are the great loves of my life. I
consider that to be a great testament to the remarkable family I have
been blessed with. I have a lifetime of memories to carry me through
this and there are more to come. That is where I try to stay focused.
That is what will carry me through.

In closing, I ask one favor of Dad's dear birding friends; next time you
chase a great bird, get it in your sights and get a good look, take a
moment to think of Dad. That way I'll know he's still out there birding
with you.

I'll love you forever and ever, Daddy. Happy birding.

AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! (Update)

Look what I found:

OMG! Fabulous!!!

Mom swears she has the complete set around here somewhere. Thank God or I might be crazy and buy it all up from some ebay seller in England. Isn't it fantastic?!

Another new obsession

Before Mom was married she lived in Tripoli, Libya with her dad and worked as a teacher for the families on a US Air Force base. Mom did a lot of traveling and saw lot of the world back then. She has all kinds of memorabilia lying around but the biggest box holds the dishes she and her dad used while in Africa. She has been saving them for me for years.

Something online today made me think of those dishes. Because I'm seriously looking at buying a house I've been thinking about what I will need in my new place. I decided to bust open the box of dishes to remind myself what the looked like. I didn't find the everyday dishes but instead found a beautiful mid century tea service that I am IN LOVE with. Mom said they picked it up in Germany. It's apparently a Seltmann Weiden service. I haven't figured out the name of the pattern but the dish style is called Isolde. I didn't take pictures but I did find one pic online of the same pattern:

How awesome is that?! However, I don't seem to have that exact set. My box of goodies contains a teapot, a creamer, a sugar pot, a tureen w/lid and two plates. Finding more of this pattern is my new obsession. I'm absolutely crazy about it. This cute little creamer stands about 3 inches tall.


The color looks gray in these pix but my set is actually a lovely shade of light blue.

On top of the service were a bunch of vintage postcards from all over Europe. I also found a stack of black and white pictures that my grandfather took while in Tripoli. He snuck a picture of a man kneeling and bowing for prayers but my favorite is of one of the protests. Mom says that government officials would just show up at their door and demand payment on "taxes" in cash. All kinds of strange "official" business was conducted in this manner. As a result the people were constantly rioting. She said that they would spontaneous gather and run through the streets. The police would then begin shutting down streets and lead the mob into town circles or stadiums. The police would then spray everyone down with paint then spend the next couple of days arresting anyone with paint on them. It was as strange time for my mom and her dad who had both been born and raised in Texas. My grandfather (aka Papa) seemed particularly curious about the burkas the women wore. I found two postcards from him to my mom with a picture of the covered women stating "This is a good picture of how the women look over here in robes." Later he sent the same postcard with "I do not know if I sent you one of these cards or not. It is the only one I've found of the Arabic women. The streets are filled with them." Talk about culture shock. It must have all seemed so very strange to Papa.

Maybe the best find were two boarding passes I found for Papa. One was the airline ticket for mom and dad's wedding the other for by birth. The pass for the wedding (an awesome First Class Pan Am ticket) seems to have cost $1000 (!) and outlines many connections: Tripoli to London to Los Angeles. The return flight began with: Los Angeles to Chicago. Papa told mom that he wanted to see if it actually was The Windy City... I'm completely serious. Papa did stuff like that. He then seems to have flown back to Texas before returning to Africa. He flew from Chicago to Dallas to New York to Tripoli. I found a similar itinerary on the ticket for my birth but without the Chicago detour.

Another great postcard is of the Empire State Building and a very flat looking lower Manhattan. Papa writes "This was the most beautiful thing all lit up at night." I couldn't agree with him more. It's still is a beautiful sight. I know I'll be thinking of him next time I see it all lit up.

If I ever get a scanner I'll scan the postcards. They are too good to not share.

The only bad part of my find was that it made Mom cry. She saw Papa's writing and immediately burst into tears which, of course, set me off. Later she said that I "Shoved me down memory lane when I didn't want to go." then we started laughing. In retrospect, my timing was not the best. Mom's beloved cousin is ill and she is planning to fly out to see him next week. She is excited about seeing him but I know that she always questions her decision to leave her family when she got married. I know I couldn't do it but the 60's were a different time and the bride generally followed the groom. Even well traveled brides seem to have followed this path. I sometimes wonder how our lives would have been different had we all moved to Texas. I don't know Mom's side of the family all that well and I know she regrets that most of all. I do have incredibly strong feelings of love for her cousin and my Papa. I hate that memory lane can make Mom so sad but I do like reading Papa's letters and cards to mom because it makes me feel closer to him. Maybe I just need to be more stealth about it next time.

I knew Papa for such a short time. He died far too young when I was around 13 years old. It's really not fair at all but I'm grateful for the time I had with him. I look forward to using his lovely tea service in my new home one day soon. I will think of him with each and every use.

What's your style?

While tripping through the interwebs this morning I came upon an Ethan Allen "What's Your Style?" quiz. I took it and I must say I agreed with most of it. According to the quiz I'm a "Loft" gal.

Here is the description:

"Energetic. Fashion-driven. Practical. Materials borrowed from industry, architecture, and nature. Clean shapes. Punches of color. Spontaneous and fresh. Kids and pets? Bring them on."

I don't know about the "energetic" or "fashion" part of it but the rest sounds good. I do like things neat and practical. I don't like cold, modern, pointy places unless it's a high end hotel room. I do love unexpected color and fresh is definitely the way to go in a home. As for the kids and pets, well they are inevitable and usually make me laugh so you might as well make way for them.

There were two style examples given under the Loft style. I like Marzipan.


Are you taking the quiz? If so, what's your style? Is it accurate? Do tell!

My latest obsession...

Here's the bummer, I've had a sinus infection and cramps for the first 2 days of my vacation. It's a bummer but I've got my trusty new laptop and loads of Kleenex and Aleve so it's gonna be fine.

While I recuperate I've been cruising around online and have discovered my new goal in life. I simply must figure out how to get myself one of these:



"What is that?" you ask. That, my friends, is what we call a sleeping porch. It's where folks used to sleep in the unbearably hot days of summer before air conditioning came along in the 40's. I now not only need to find a little house in the woods, as I've always known, but now it has to have a sleeping porch. Well, a sleeping porch with WiFi and some sort of cable access.

Then I saw this swing bed on a sleeping porch and I felt faint. I mean honestly, can you imagine anything more dreamy?

Oy, what a week!

So, all of the stress from the past year has finally resulted in elevated blood pressure for me. Yay me. I've seen a few doctors and they all tell me to take a vacation, start walking and don't let my work or my boss get to me.

The good news is that it may finally get better. Last Tuesday evening I learned that effective this Monday I will be working with a new team through the summer. I've worked for both bosses on this new team and I've managed the accounts. At first I felt like a cheap whore being passed around but the Director of the new team told me that she had made a special request for me because they need help fast and they knew I could dive right in. That made me feel better.
The more I thought about it the more excited I was about this development. We have been in the middle of establishing our budgets/goals for 2011 so it's a stressful time BUT I stayed focused, got the job done and will begin the new job on Monday.

One EVP, from another company, that I will be working with again was happy. We're friends, and I heard he requested me too but he had the funniest comment for me. When I called to tell him I'd be back on his business he said "That's great! I don't know why I'm so happy though. You're such a bitch to me but I love working with you. I don't know how you do that.". LOL! I'll take that as a compliment... sort of. He's right. I'm no push over but I try to at least make the work fun. He told me that when I see "what's been going on over there you're going to kick my ass." then added "You're walking into a real shit storm." Great.

Did I mention that I'm on vacation this Monday and all week? Oops! Luckily nobody seemed to mind. Well, my direct supervisor seemed sort of bummed but what could we do? I need a damn break!

Then, back at the ranch, my sweet little MacBook started acting up.

I've been having trouble maintaining an Internet connection for a while but it's been getting progressively worse. Finally, this past week, it got to the point where I couldn't hold a connection for more than 7 minutes. I had almost no chance of getting a new connection once it had been dropped. I finally left MacBook with my favorite independent repair shop and soon got a call that I'd need a new logic board and a battery. It would cost over $600 to fix up the MacBook. To my mind that spelled New-Laptop... Pronto! I've had the MacBook for almost 5 years with little trouble until recently. It seemed high time to take the plunge.

I knew I'd get another Mac because I love them. I considered switching to a desktop computer because they are less expensive but decided sitting on the couch cruising the net sounded like more fun. I ended up getting a new MacBook Pro.

Here's the deal with Macs, when you slip them out of the box and plug them in the seduction is complete. I'm serious. I tapped the power button, sat back and sighed. The graphics start flying and the sound blows you out of your chair and you know that no other computer will do. And then Steve Jobs and team come up with something even more beautifully perfect and you do it all over again a few years later... and you look forward to it.

I spent more than I wanted to but I figured I use my computer every day of my life. I have to be half dead to skip a day on it so I may as well get the one I really want. Of course this means I'm grounded and can't spend any money until the end of the year but I don't mind. Being a shut-in with a Mac is fine with me.

BO-RING!

Did you know that The World Cup trophy is not actually a cup? Turns out all of those guys are actually fighting for a small gold phallus. Well, to my eyes it really looks like a twisted claw holding up a ball. Either way, it's a disturbing trophy especially when you consider how many of planet's earth's population is currently obsessed with it.

Listen, I can enjoy a big sporting event as much as the next person. I get up early to watch the Men's Finals of Wimbledon. I'm up for a good World Series and I even take in a live Dodger game from time to time. It's all good stuff, but I will never understand the fanatical obsession the rest of the world has with soccer... (I'm sorry, football).

Nonetheless, I decided to give it try yesterday. The match was between England and the US. All I knew was that the US was apparently about to get's it's ass handed to it. I was doing laundry and gearing up for a sleepover with my niece and nephew. A soccer game on in the background seemed like an easy enough task to manage. I quickly discovered that the South African game hosts have unfortunately handed out cheap plastic horns to the spectators. The resulting buzzing sound is close to unbearable. The world turns it's eyes to your World Cup and all we can hear is the sound of African Killer Bees. Well done South Africa!

Any chance I may have had of enjoying the dullest sport on earth died a horrible death about 20 years while on a trip through Great Britain with KAW. I recall another World Cup or some such big deal soccer situation going on back then. More than anything I remember meeting a young couple in the B&B we were staying in at some coastal town. The couple had been camping along on beaches for about 2 weeks when the man finally decided to spring for a room for the night because his team was playing and he wanted non-stop access to a tv. Hey big spender! This was annoying enough but did I mention that his long suffering wife was very pregnant? Yeah, the jerk wouldn't spring for a decent bed to sleep in until his team was on tv. I suppose I should blame her for wanting to pro-create with such a dreadful moron but I'm sure the realization that you're married to a jerk doesn't help when you're seven months pregnant and camping on a frigid beach.

Whenever I think of soccer (I'm sorry, football), and that is seldom, I recall that poor pregnant woman and this bit from the Simpson's. I think it perfectly illustrates how Americans experience soccer:



The Onion is currently featuring this fun interactive map of a soccer field and players further explaining this mind numbingly boring sport.

The Daily Show showed this fun clip perfectly showing the smug attitude England has towards US soccer (I'm sorry... football). Of course it's all made even more hilarious knowing that England only managed to tie the US in it's first game. To which I say:



It may be just me but I really thought this clip from The Colbert Report on the lameness of soccer & BP was hilarious. (I recommend skipping to the 3:00 mark for the soccer portion.)

So far all this World Cup stuff has made for some very funny stuff online and on tv.

So, before you soccer fans get your panties in a twist over this subject matter please understand that while I think AYSO is a great organization for kids, soccer remains painfully boring and most Americans would rather poke their eyes out with chop sticks before having to sit through 3 hours of watching men jog/run over a big field.

Now, how do I explain our obsession with NASCAR, a "Sport" in which people turn left for 4 hours at at time? Well, I can't. We Americans are a complicated group. Now please just leave us out of the this soccer nonsense once and for all.

Well, that was wierd... again.

So, I was nabbed for jury duty. I'm a strange one in that I don't really mind jury duty. What I mind is the location. I ALWAYS get called into the downtown LA Criminal Courts building. It's a hassle to get to and the people are CRA-ZY.

I had to be downtown at 7:45 am for the first morning. Nightmare! After an orientation period that took way too long, becuase people are way too stupid, the first jury panel was called. We were told the judge had a bit of required reading for the jurors called due to special curcumstances. It was also expected to be a 30 day trial. *gasp* Everyone held their breath while names were read. I've never been happier to work for an employer who does NOT have unlimited pay for jury duty. There were a bunch of cameras and members of the media out front and it eventually dawned on me that the 30 day trial was actually this high profile case. Phew! Unlike the victim I managed to dodge that bullet. (What? Too soon? Sorry!)

Instead, I sat through a few rounds of names and finally was called to a jury panel right before lunch. When we returned from lunch 18 people were called into the jury box for questioning. that took the rest of the day and most of the next. The attorneys thanked and excused half of them before I was called up. They didn't ask me much and I thought I was stuck for sure. I'm a reasonable person capable of being objective so I think I'm a pretty good pick for a juror. Then the defense attorney promptly excused me. He seemed to be excusing everyone with "Manager" in their title.

The few facts about the case that I was privy to were: The defendant, an older African American man, was accused of robbing a manager of some parking lots. The manager and his employees were of middle eastern descent.

But that those are the boring facts of the jury selection process. Here are the bizarre fun facts:

Out of about 25 people, 5-6 had DUIs on their records.

One man's brother-in-law had been convicted of drug trafficking. When asked if he felt his brother had been treated fairly he shrugged and said "Well, yeah. He WAS guilty." (LOL!)

A women explained that when she was a kid her sister was convicted of armed robbery and kidnapping. (WTF?!)

Some woman's ex-boyfriend had been convicted of embezzlement from his employer... a bank. (Well thought out, moron.)

A man was car-jacked by "two white college kids" who stopped in front of his car, jumped out, put hoods over their heads, pulled out a sawed off shotgun and took his car. (I repeat... WTF?!)

One moronic kid, who looked like a wee Neanderthal, claimed that his parents had once been robbed. It was dark and they couldn't see who did it but they assumed a black man had done it. He was "raised to believe that all robberies were caused by black people". (WTF?!)

A young woman claimed to be so paralysed by the thought of judging the facts of an alleged crime that she was shaking. (You imbecile!)

Another woman claimed that she hated cops because her parents had been robbed and they never caught the mask wearing gunman. When the judge asked "So you dislike police officers because they couldn't catch a man your parents couldn't identify?" she said yes. Then again, she also hated robbers because one had terrified her parents. She pretty much hated both sides of the case which may seem to make things even but apparently not. (You moron!)

A young man born in Israel claimed that all middle easterners were liars. When pressed he shrugged and said "It's been my experience that they always lie." When the judge asked where exactly the alleged victims were from we learned they were from Jordan. The potential juror shrugged again and said "Well, we did have a war with them." The judge said :Yes, but it's been a while. Things seem to be better lately wouldn't you say?" The juror agreed but again stated they were all liars. (OMG!) I later asked him if her really believed that. He admitted that he did not believe it but he'd seen how the other bigot got off so he thought he'd give it a try.

Way too many woman had been robbed or held at gun point. (Jesus!)

One woman had been convicted of grand theft auto when she was 14. She's now a born again Christian. (WTG!)

The girl next to me had six toes. (I am SO NOT kidding.)

These are just a smattering of the horrors I heard from these people before being excused.

OH! And did I mention that I could TOTALLY see the defense attorney's shwanger through his ill fitting pants? I'm not one to stare at a man's crotch but he seemed to have a pack of cigarettes in one pocket and keys in the other so it caught my attention. I then realised I could clearly see that he was circumcised. Ewwww! It was like seeing your bosses package through his pants. I was entirely grossed out.

So, it seems my Summer of Horror marched on in ways I'd never anticipated. I'm still recovering. I sorry to say that I learned that when people really don't want to be on a jury the men act like mega racist pigs and the women act stupid, confused and unreasonable. I'm so depressed.

That was weird

So, the self imposed The Summer of Horror is off to a good start. I finished reading The Exorcist and really liked it. It's scary and obscene but a great read.

As much as I liked The Exorcist the most surprising aspect of reading it is not the content but the reaction people have to it. Maybe it was the location but I read it while in the waiting rooms of a doctor's office and later a blood lab and I got some very strange looks. People look at the book as though it were some sort of manual for evil. I read it at a hair salon and got similar reactions. One stylest asked what I was reading, I held up the book and watched as she took a step back turned on her feet and briskly walked away mumbling "I've seen the movie and that was enough for me." My hair stylist asked the same question. When I held up the book she too took a step back and held her hair dryer up as if in defense while shaking her head. All of these reactions were genuinely funny to me. I'm on jury duty this week. I'm only sorry that I won't have the chance to carry it around the LA County Criminal Courthouse. God only knows the looks I'd get reading it there.

I saw Splice yesterday. Sadly I cannot recommend that as highly as I can The Exorcist in written or film form. I've only seen The Exorcist three times in my entire life. The first time really doesn't count because I saw most of it while peering out from between my fingers. The second attempt was with my brother and his BFF. They got me a bit drunk and made fun of it. We laughed through that airing. The third time was with Shandon and Howard. I made it though that viewing sober but admit to having a hard time sleeping alone in the house that night. I think it's the scariest movie I've ever seen. The Shining is a close second but I've seen that one many times and it doesn't seem to keep me up at night... but I still hate those creepy twins.

This American Life recently ran an episode where a man describes how seeing The Shining as a kid wrecked him for life and his mother had the nerve to have zero recollection of the event. For me it was Rosemary's Baby. It was airing on tv, chalk full of commercials, but it scared me so badly that I had to sit in the kitchen where my babysitter and brother were playing a board game. I didn't see that film in it's entirety until about 25 years later. The film that scared my brother for life was Salem's Lot. All I had to do was raise my arms and pretend to hover outside of his bedroom door and he'd freak out. At least that is my recollection. I called to confirm this with him. He was slightly distracted by a hockey game but this is the conversation that followed:

Lucy: Ok, when you were a kid, wasn't Salem's Lot the film that scared you the most?
Bro: *adamantly* No, it was The Shining. Salem's Lot scared me but the one that really f@cked with me was The Shining.
Lucy: Did you see it in the theater or on tv?
Bro: In the theater. MOM TOOK ME!
Lucy: LOL!! What?!
Bro: I know! It messed with my head for years.

I promptly congratulated Mom for that decision.

Lucy: I just talked to bro and he says you took him to see The Shining when he was a kid.
Mom: What? Ohhh, The Shining isn't that bad.
Lucy: Mom, he was 12 years old!
Mom: *averting her eyes from mine* Well, just those two girls were bad. The rest was fine.
Lucy: What about the naked lady getting out the bath who turns into a rotting zombie making out with Jack Nicholson?
Mom: *shrug*

Mom later claimed "Well, I was a good mother most of the time. We all make mistakes!" She's right. She was and remains an excellent mother. She must have just had a lapse of good judgement. Sort of like the time I took my three-year-old niece on Tower of Terror at California Adventure. That was not my best aunty moment.

Aside from Rosemary's Baby my all time scariest movie is one I don't know the name of. I saw that one on tv and never forgot it. Yesterday, Shandon, Howard and I were talking about how most of the scariest things we saw were on local tv on the weekends of our childhood. Most parent's were busy and didn't really pay attention to what we watched during the day, alone in the living room. Howard recalls seeing Burnt Offerings on tv. That chauffeur still scares him. We agreed that anything with Karen Black in it spelled trouble in our childhoods. Remember this one? Of course it's now hilarious but in the 70's it scared the hell outta me. Someone seriously needs to put her in a a quality horror film to really scare us children of the 70's. Where is Quinton Tarentino's nostalgic side when you need it?

This pathological liar always freaked me out too. Worst of all were weekends when this was all that was on. It was worst in the summer when it was too hot and smoggy to go out and play.



What a whack job. Bad dubbing has been an issue with me ever since

And jeeez, remember this movie trailer?! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Shandon and her sister remember a film with a creepy priest or was it a monk? Anyway, she finally learned the name of that film and got to show it to her sister and got a great reaction. My unknown film was in black and white with a women a being chased through the streets. She may have been accused of witchcraft, I'm not sure. Ultimately she was thrown in some sort of cell with her head encased in a cage. There is a hungry rat on one side of the cage. A divider is lifted and the rat rushes to feed on her face. OMG, I'll never forget it. I don't think I even want to know the name of that damned movie. What I want to know is why on earth was that shown on local tv?! How did I go from Dusty's Treehouse to flesh eating rats?! And why isn't Dusty's Treehouse on YouTube by now?

Summer of HOR-ROR!

So I'm reading The Exorcist and I'm really enjoying it. I know it may sound strange to enjoy The Exorcist but I'm here to tell you it's an excellent read. I remember being entirely freaked out by Pet Semetary in high school. I was so scared that I had to read it in front of the fireplace to be near my family when I read it each night. I almost gave up on Stephen King after slogging through It but there are a couple I still need to get to.

I've decided I like reading horror in the summertime. I then decided to read MORE classic horror this summer. Here's is what I'm hoping to get to in the next few months:

#1 - Enough with all of that vampire romance crap, bring on the REAL vampires! The kind that can scare the bejeezus outta you.

#2 - Shandon approved. Looking forward to it:

#3 - This one has been on my list for ages. I think the time has come:


I may re-read this or not. I'm still thinking about it. In the mean time Kathleen will be giving it a shot:

If you have some you'd like to suggest please do.

P.S. I was right. As much as I wanted to read The Exorcist while giving platelets, I just couldn't stomach it. Having a needle in your arm pretty much makes everything gross for the entire day. I was reduced to watching The Proposal instead. "The horror. The horror..."

Summer horror kick off!

So, I received my copy of The Amityville Horror today. I thought reading it again might be a fun way to kick off this nice long weekend. I read The Amityville Horror in about the 7th grade and it scared the hell outta me (as promised on the book cover). However, after some consideration, I thought why not read a scary book that I haven't read before? I promptly dug up the copy of The Exorcist that I've been meaning to read forever.

So far it's a quick read. Regan has already walked into the dinner party, urinated on the rug, stared at the astronaut and said "You're going to die up there". It's getting GOOD! I won't even go into the mysterious desecrations going on at the Catholic Church down the street. Awkward!

Of course, I'm still in the middle of The Forgotten Garden which I'm truly enjoying. I just haven't been in a reading mood. Of course, I'm donating platelets tomorrow and I plan on reading while I'm there but I don't think I can stomach reading The Exorcist with a needle in my arm. Blechh! I'll be switching to The Forgotten Garden for that appointment.

(Yes, Shandon. That's an Exorcist bobblehead up there. Please note the twisty neck detail. I know you want one!)

Silly American tradition lets me down

I did some poking around in an effort to find some good old tv marathons that programmers may of thoughtfully planned for my viewing pleasure this weekend. I found evidence of a few small line ups but they are weak at best. The only marathon worth mentioning is on Spike TV where Band of Brothers will air on Monday. I love that mini-series and watch it at least once a year. If you haven't seen it all the way through you simply must.

I searched in vain for a Twilight Zone marathon but only found a few episodes airing on SciFi Channel. On one hand I'm disappointed in the SciFi Channel. On the other hand I prefer to watch Twilight Zone episodes for hours on end when it's REALLY hot outside. This typically happens on the 4th of July. I'll just have to keep my fingers crossed and hope I can do that in 5 weeks.

Here are some of the weak marathon offerings I managed to find (check your local listings for times and dates):

A&E

• Criminal Minds
• Parking Wars
• Billy the Exterminator (WTF?)

BBC America

• Doctor Who (Ok, don't tell anyone but I'm sort of into this show. I'm a recent convert but I kinda dig it. It's very embarrassing.)
  
• Star Trek: The Next Generation

Discovery

• Deadliest Catch

Food Network

• Grill it! With Bobby Flay

Hitler Channel

• Patton 360
• WWII in HD
• America the Story of Us

TCM

• War Movie Marathon (complete list here) I'm not generally into war movies but there are some classics in the mix you may like.
  

TLC

• Say Yes to the Dress
• The Little Couple
• Cake Boss

TNT

• Of course... lots of Law & Order

TV Land

• Lots of big blocks of same show programming. This may be normal, I don't know since I haven't watched it in a while.
  

NGC

• Hooked (Never hear of it. It sounds promising. Another addiction show or maybe a fishing show? Who knows?)

USA

• Lots of Law & Order

Of course, I could turn OFF the tv and do some reading. God knows reading makes me happier than tv. The only down side is that time flies when I read and I don't really want this weekend to fly by.

I'll have to see what I can do to make the most of this weekend. I suppose it's a good thing that there is no decent tv on. Maybe I'll actually crack open my book of shame.

I told you so

Once upon a time I used to visit a lovely house in the woods for crafting weekends. I was a friend of a friend of the owners sister who belonged in a crafting group I helped originate. It was about 10 years ago when a few of us started a monthly Friday night group that got together to regularly scrapbook. There was only one rule to Scrap Club: No kids, no husbands. We would rotate the location of the get togethers and each host about 1 night per year. The husbands and kids of the host's home would make themselves scarce. Often they would congregate at another husbands house for a night of pizza and movies. It seemed to make everyone very happy. Being the single lady of the group I enjoyed the uninterrupted evening of girl talk.

When we first heard a member of our group had access to a "cabin" we all decided to go up for a long weekend of crafting. I don't know about everyone else but I had visions of bunk beds and a cramped living room. Instead we pulled up to this place. Imagine my surprise. Our friend had entirely undersold the place. I remember us all walking around in a daze when we first arrived. We were shocked. There were about 8 of us on that first weekend. Not only did I not have to sleep in a bunk bed but I got my own room... with a lake view!

In the winter we stayed indoors except to occasionally barbecue in the snow. It sounds crazy but it's actually a lot of fun. In the summers we would take time out to lounge on the deck. It was a dream but like all dreams it came to an end. One ugly divorce later we all said goodbye to that wonderful place. We miss it to this day.

How did I find it online? Well, let's just say I got tired of looking at houses in my price range. I typed in Santa Barbara, Malibu and eventually Big Bear Lake into Redfin (my favorite new real estate site) and up it popped. I sent it to a friend who confirmed that it is in fact the house we used to visit.

The pictures do not do it justice. That giant window has a magnificent view of the lake. The deck on the back of the house is huge and the house sleeps 25 people... we counted once. We used to park it at those tables and I would build a fire in the fire place. I was the only one who knew who to start a fire. I've been the fire starter ever since. I also come in handy when a spider needs smashing.

Anyway, for those of you who have heard tale of that little cabin that got away, I just had to share it with you.

*sigh* I miss it so.

Unclassifiable

Last night I saw a little show called Nightmare Alley at the Geffen Theater. It was so-so. I may have liked it more if the theme hadn't been so damned promising. It was a musical based on the book and film of the same name AND takes place in and around a sideshow freak tent. I know!

Shandon rightly sent an email to us about a month ago stating she'd purchased tickets without asking first because she knew we'd be so all over it. She was right. I suppose I may have liked it more if Howard hadn't leaned over to say "Is this yacht rock?" It was. Damn you Howard! *shaking fist in air* The performers had really good voices and the male lead's ability to project would make Ethel Merman nervous. The story and songs were weak but we had a good time anyway.

This all brings to mind modern day freak shows. Oh yes, my friends, freak shows are alive and well all over cable television. Ever flipped past those freaks the Duggars or that poor Half Ton Teen on Discovery Health? Hoarders and Intervention are of the same vein but it's "ok" because the show producers are really just there to help. Uh huh. In the end it's programming straight from the PT Barnum handbook.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a modern day freak show as much as the next gal. Remember how caught up in The Real Housewives of New York I got while trapped in my hotel room recently? What, I didn't mention that shameful episode? I was lured in I tell you! Don't judge me. Programmers call them teasers or bumpers, I call them barkers. Step right up and marvel at the spoiled, hyper petty existence of modern day freaks. That's right folks, step right up and take in the wonder of these supreme bitches!

Naturally (because my mind is nimble that way) last night's themes also brought to mind the Dearly Departed Tours that I've been wanting to check out. I'd prefer a more old time Hollywood experience but I suppose there isn't much of a market for that sort of tour anymore. Now it's all about where Hugh Grant and George Micheal were arrested. There is mention of the Black Dahlia and Sunset Blvd so I'd probably still join in but I'd like more of the stuff that happened pre-1970. There was a disturbing tour on the Mason Murders. No thank you. It just seemed to sorted.

Of course this online search, as so many others, lead from one thing to another. I eventually found a few things I thought you dear, and few, readers might enjoy:

Phreeque - "Unclassifiable" is pretty interesting
SideShowWorld - This one may require more navigating time but I'll be back.
SlightlyWarped is fun. I like The Right Angle page and the Ghastly Ghost page could be fun next Halloween. If nothing else, be sure to check out this out.

I'd do a little more digging around but for more freakish links but, frankly, the internets can be a disturbing place. I don't have the nerve to dig much deeper. Let me know if you find any fun curios that won't make me sick.

Be what you might have been?

When I was a kid I LOVED photography. More precisely, I liked photography books and my Dad's old Minolta. Dad was always so great about showing me how to care for and use that old beast of a camera. It's a wonder I could even lift it in my little 5 year old hands. Dad often handed it to me to let me take a shot or two. Of course those were the days of slides and film so I never got to go too crazy but I had a good eye and I knew how to use that camera.

The other day I finally bought a new DSLR camera. I gave up photography years ago after I came to believe that a couple of unfortunate photography classes ruined my eye. The instructors preached too many rules and techniques and it wrecked any natural talent I might have possessed. I decided to walk away from photography and come back when I'd emptied my head of all of the nonsense.

Today, was the day to get to know my new camera. It's a Canon and I love it already. It's interface is easy to use. I read the manual and took several shots of my propped up feet, studying the difference in aperture and exposure settings. It's all new to me again... yea!!!

I happened to have The Seven Ages of Rock on tv (again) and something about having a camera in my hand and seeing Robert Plant on stage got me thinking about what my much younger self thought my life was going to be like.

For starters, I was TOTALLY going to marry one of these guys:

(I've always loved a tall drink a water and I blame Mr. Plant)

(I have a Parker Stevenson autographed picture somewhere around here.)

(Greg, you were dreamy... but lose Bear)

(I recently told Shandon that I tolerate Justified because I enjoy seeing Timothy Oliphant lean in a doorway, maybe this is why:)


*sigh*

I stand by every one of my daydream subjects. Of course, catching one of these "total foxes" was not going to be a problem because I was going to look like this:

I was going to drive this:

I was going to live in a place like this (but with lots of exposed brick, plants and books):

I was definitely going to have a stereo system like this (but with much bigger speakers and an entire wall of well organized LPs):

Most importantly, I was going to travel the world as a super human National Geographic Photographer then take Ansel Adams' job:

Of course, times have changed and none of these things came to pass but, as it turns out, I like who I became. Who knows, maybe I can still become a decent photographer.

Oh, and Bobby? *Call me.*

Sold!

Well, my ill-timed sinus infection is being treated with what I'm told is a form of penicillin called Augmentin. While it instantly kicked my sore throat and cleared my sinuses pretty well it unfortunately had the same effect on my intestines. It tore... me... up. The sinus infection has been the least of my troubles for the last 24 hours. (Brace yourselves for TMI) I was trapped in my room all day until I found a stash of Imodium. I popped those pills, waited 30 minutes then RAN down to Duane Reade (again) for more. I realize this is WAY more info than you need but I wanted to share so you could appreciate how desperate I was to get out of my room today. I'm pretty much sure I've now consumed illegal amounts of Imodium. I really wanted to make it to my last two appointments of my trip this morning so I skipped my Augmentin pill this morning. It helped but I was in no shape to do any jumping jacks.

My meetings went well but I was feeling a little "precious" so I came back to my hotel room where I had yet another bowl of matzo ball soup. It was such a pretty day and I still wanted to get out. I cautiously waited for my lunch to settle then headed downtown. I picked up a friend in a cab where we shopped in Soho. But that's not the good part. The good part of my day was the rare opportunity to take a spare hour and spend it on a tour of The Tenement Museum. Have you heard of The Tenement Museum? Do you really need to know anything more than the name to be completely sold?

First of all, the lower east side is where so much of the flavor of New York comes from. I learned all about it today. It's where China Town, Little Italy and German Town where all found, to name a few neighborhoods. Immigrants settled there because it was close to the harbor where they first arrived in America before Ellis Island was created. They would typically hand a slip of paper with their name on it to a dock worker who would point them in the direction of the area where their language was spoken. If they were lucky they had family or friends expecting them. This is the type of scene that welcomed them:

The word "tenement" was not a negative word until much later. Tenements where simply affordable multiple family dwellings built to accommodate the immigrants coming to the US. Wars, poverty and famine brought on an onslaught of immigrants to the lower east side neighborhoods that eventually turned the tenements into the dark, crowded, oppressive slums we now associate the word with.

That street scene pictured above? That's Mulberry Street but it gives you an idea of what life was life in the lower east side at that time. This is what those streets look like these days:

The tour begins in a gift shop where the tour tickets are purchased. There were tons of fantastic books in there but I resisted and instead went to the back of the shop to take in a short film on immigration in America. Soon a tour guide announced our tour was about to begin. About 15 of us gathered on the sidewalk where the tour kicked off.

I chose the tour about a German-Jewish family and an Italian-Catholic family. In the first apartment we heard the story of a German-Jewish woman named Josephine who came to America most likely in search of a husband. She found one, named Louis, and they moved into the apartment on Orchard Street where they had 4 children. Soon after the Panic of 1907 Louis vanished. (Which is when I mumbled under my breath "We HATE Louis!") At the time, some men would just abandon their families, others were murdered for their wages while others committed suicide. Times were tough. The museum has done tons of research on the tenement families but they still do not know what exactly happened to Louis. Our friend Josephine was left alone to fend for her family. She had to find work ... fast. She could have become a prostitute (the red light district was literally on the street behind her tenement) or a factory worker or a street vendor or any number of tough jobs on the street. In the end we learn that she chose to borrow money from a relative to rent a newfangled sewing machine. She worked from her home repairing and sewing clothing for those in her neighborhood. Josephine was soon making more money than Louis ever had. (Which is when I mumbled "Well, she had one less mouth to feed!" and another lady said "Right on!" Was that rude? I couldn't help it. I was still mad at Louis.) One day a telegram arrived from Germany stating that Louis had inherited $600 from his father. (Damn you Louis!) The only way Josephine could collect the inheritance was to have Louis finally declared dead. She did and she got the money. (We know this because the tour guide showed us the legal document they found signed by Josephine and witnessed by her landlord... cool! It mentions Louis' disappearance which is how we know that he vanished.) Josephine took the $600 and moved uptown. (Yee haw!) I was surprised at how emotional I became when we were saw pictures of Josephine's great-great grand children. Seeing her descendants really got to me. Because of that tough, tenacious broad there is a whole family line thriving in this country. Seeing those modern day smiling faces got to me.

I pulled it together enough to get to the next apartment. Here we learn about Sadie and Al from Sicily. They had a daughter and a son and lived in their apartment from 1928 to 1933 when it was condemned. The daughter eventually moved to Brooklyn but came back to her old neighborhood often. One day in 1988 she saw that the building of her childhood home suddenly had some interesting activity going on. She inquired within and learned that it was being turned into a museum. She was thrilled to hear the news and shared her memories with museum founders. The tour guide played an audio clip from the hours of interviews they have with her. She described how her mother would cook for them and they would sit around the kitchen table playing checkers and listening to the radio. Her father loved riddles and would write them down for the family to figure out. She described many happy memories of their tenement home. Mostly I loved that due to her parents spirit she had no idea how hard times were for them. She remembered getting government cheese during the depression and once getting a box of clothes from the government. She needed shoes for school and vividly remembered getting her government box home where he opened it to find men's size nine shoes inside. She had no choice but to stuff the shoes and wear them to school. Poor thing! Otherwise she didn't seem to have bad memories of not having much. I suppose nobody had much back then so it didn't occur to her that times were hard. (I loved her and now I can't even remember her name!) I adored seeing he picture of her at the 1992 opening of the museum with her family.

There are several tours offered by the museum but I chose the the one with German/Italian stories. My tour told the stories of single families living in the apartment. I did not get the story of 25 people living in tiny spaces. I'm sure those stories are also offered but I didn't see those. I will say that a family, even a small one, living in a 325 square foot apartment is unbelievable to experience if even for an hour. indoor plumbing, ventilation and gas heat didn't exist when Josephine lived in her apartment. Those conveniences were around for the second family dwelling I saw and it made quite a difference. If I had to choose one I have to say I'd want ventilation above all. I'd have thought I'd want indoor plumbing but indoor plumbing without ventilation is something I'm not interested in.

I wish more of the country could experience the tour I took today. I think it would impact how we view the immigrants of today. Their stories have not changes much. The only thing that has changed is what it takes to become an American. When Josephine came to New York she only needed to want to be an American to become one. It was tougher from our Italian family and even tougher today.

Cameras are not allowed in the museum. If you'd like to see more you may do so here. I hope you get a chance to visit this amazing museum very soon.