Did you ever wonder why . . .

. . . life seems so much better in the movies?  I finally figured it out this morning:  it's because movie life has a soundtrack!  DMan has been watching this movie called "For The Love Of The Game" all morning, and I swear throughout the entire movie every scene, every single exchange of dialogue is accompanied by music.  How great would that be in real life??  Then you wouldn't have to wonder how you feel or what's about to happen.  When you hear the sweet swelling strains of violins, you know you're having a happy, loving moment or something good is coming your way so you can just relax and enjoy yourself.  The melancholy trickle of piano notes leaves no doubt that you're about to get slapped with sadness or loss and better grab the box of Kleenex.  Blaring horns or thundering percussion are a sure sign to get your fear on and be on the lookout for sharks or speeding buses or Freddy Krueger lurking in your closet.  Having a life soundtrack like that would make living so much easier.
     But, alas, the only soundtrack my life usually has is whatever song blasts from the radio when my alarm goes off (and I pray it's not Bobby McFerrin's "Don't Worry, Be Happy!"), some annoying song from an equally annoying commercial (like "True" by Spandau Ballet playing in that Chevy Malibu on nearly every commercial break), or the mind-numbing theme song from a seventies sitcom (DMan has been singing the "Green Acres" song lately when he's farming, aka planting grass and fertilizing the yard).  My life's soundtrack doesn't make my life better at all.  It doesn't give me a clue about how I feel -- except annoyed -- or what's coming, and once it gets going, the music is on an eternal "repeat" loop that drives me crrr-azy.  Or crrr-azier.  Oh well, I guess some music is better than no music at all.
     Wishing yall a fabulous soundtrack to your lives this weekend, with lots of happy violins and nary a scary horn or pity-party piano!          

Butter Cream Moon

  Went to my first Springfield Poetry Slam last night at Nathan P. Murphy's downtown.  I had practiced for days memorizing the poems I had picked to present, getting my timing and nuances down just right by reciting to myself in the mirror.  Despite being scared to death of choking when it was my turn on stage, I was ready to roll and finally get my words out into the world (since absolutely nothing has been happening with my memoir).  Then . . . there were too many people on the list wanting to slam and my name didn't get picked.
   I was devastated and had a good long cry on the drive home.  But instead of feeling sorry for myself (any more than I already have, which is plenty!), I decided to share the first poem I was going to present here on my blog.  At least maybe someone will read it.  So, I present:

BUTTER CREAM MOON

Welcome back

Luna Linda,

Goddess of the dark.

The clouds kept you hidden

from me too long.

But tonight you hang

low over the ocean,

your butter cream skin glowing

on the black satin sky,

so close I can almost touch you.

What magic,

what secrets

lie in the swath of golden light

you spread on the water,

all the way to the sand,

all the way to the balcony

just for me?

Tell me.

If I run into

the waves of dancing light

with abandon,

will you

show me the way to happiness?

take away my fears and leave only hope?

make me moonshine beautiful, even to myself?

Will I be changed at all?

Or will I be just a

naked

dripping

fool

shivering in the moonlight?

I'll find out another night,

another butter cream moon.

Come see me again when it's warm.

   If you dig this poem, you can read more of my poetry in my memoir "Life Gone South," still available on Amazon.com.  My first novel, "Life Is A Beach -- After I'm Gone," will be on Amazon as well real soon.  I'm just waiting for the final approval from CreateSpace to get my proof copy.

   Hope at least one crrr-azy dream is coming true for yall.  Have a hootie weekend!

SAME

   The murders in Libya and the aftermath of escalating violence are crrr-azy.  And scary.  And so needlessly hurtful.  I don't know that we'll ever know the real story, but it seems people "over there" are angry and hurt over what some of "us" have done, now we "over here" are angry and hurt over what some of "them" have done.  Soon more and more people will become angry and hurt, until the retaliation for all the anger and hurt takes on a life of its own and becomes a monster of violence.
   When will it end?  Maybe when we realize we are more the same than different?

SAME

Our blood spills

RED

just the same.

Our hearts beat,

we LIVE,

they stop,

we DIE,

just the same.

We cherish LOVE

fear LOSS

celebrate JOY

suffer PAIN

just the same.

You

me

WE

are

just the same.

   Thanks for listening and feel free to share this if you are praying for peace like I am.

Truckin' -- Part Two

   Our truckin' weekend couldn't have gone better!  After:

• two absolutely gorgeous days;
• delivering rest stop supplies for over 600 bike riders raising money to serve folks with Multiple Sclerosis across Southwest Missouri (the MS Society is hoping over $400,000 was raised -- the MS riders ROCK!!);
• meeting beaucoup wonderful rest stop volunteers and helpful ham radio operators;
• only a few minor rider accidents along the way;
• navigating for DMan across many miles of beautiful Ozarks back roads (and not getting us lost one time and no porta-potties knocked over!);
• and watching DMan wheel that big truck around like a professional truck rodeo star;

we turned in our truck keys and made it home.  DMan loved it, he was totally in his element.  I had fun but missed cheering on the riders like I get to when we work a rest stop.  We even got home in time for DMan to go see the Springfield Cardinals win their playoff game and me to have a three-hour nap!  Truckin' is hard work!
   Sending out a huge "GREAT JOB" woo hoo to the MS Society staff (Debbie, Mel and Ashley, you gals are awesome!!), the fabulous riders, the sponsors and bike shops, and all the enthusiastic and hard-working volunteers that make the ride possible every year!!  Don't know if we'll be truckin' again, but we'll definitely be working the MS ride next year!  It's a great time for a great cause -- come join us!       

Truckin'

   Guess what??  DMan and I get to be truckers!  No, we aren't quitting our jobs for life in an 18-wheeler.  We get to drive a truck this coming weekend for the MS Bike Ride!  This is our third year working the MS Ride together, but usually we pass out snacks at a rest stop or make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at the lunch stop.  This year we'll be cruising down the road in a 26-foot Penske truck leading a convoy to deliver supplies to the rest stops.  I say "we," but I mean DMan will be driving.  There's no way I would get behind the wheel of a big truck or there would be carnage from Clever (where the ride starts) to Joplin and back.  No, I'll stick to encouraging him from the passenger seat and trying to read the map without getting us horribly lost.
   DMan is so excited to get to drive that big rig.  He used to be a diesel mechanic in the Army and after, so he's had experience driving a lot of major machinery.  But it's been a while.  He says he's ready for the challenge.
   So far the weather looks perfect -- cool and dry -- for the 700 or so riders expected this weekend.  Whether you know someone with Multiple Sclerosis or not (and I bet you do, after I started volunteering over 20 years ago I found out I knew a whole bunch of folks living with this dreadful disease), won't you send up a prayer for the riders safety and the good weather to hold out (we've had some drenching rains and even tornados hit the ride in the past and we a nice weekend this time so the riders keep coming back!)?  You might add a little prayer that DMan and I don't throw out our backs unloading all those supplies or smack a utility pole backing into a driveway or run over a porta-potty along the way.  I have complete confidence in his driving; it's my navigating I'm worried about!
   I'll let you know how we do.  Yall have a wicked cool crrr-azy weekend!     

The Big Disconnect

  I've been without my laptop for over a week.  She got possessed and wouldn't type "t," "y," or "tab."  Amazing what you can't do without those few precious keys working.  The Computer Geeks exorcised her demon (and put in a brand new keyboard), and for about $75 I'm finally back in touch with the world.  I highly recommend calling the Geeks if something evil gets hold of your computer!
   So I've been experiencing the big disconnect without my internet connection, like life was spinning out there as usual and I was stuck in a deep, dark well with no idea what was happening.  I found out I didn't really miss email.  Out of 40 some messages, there were only three worth reading.  Since I've published my book, I keep getting tons of junk emails from Mr. or Miss Ubangi Bobaloo (or something like that) in desperate need of my financial help.  What's that all about?  If they saw my sad bank account balance, they should be sending me money!
   I did miss Facebook, though.  I missed a classmate from high school's death.  What an inspiration he was, smiling this light-up-the-world smile even though he looked like death was already knocking at his front door.  Rest in peace now, old friend.  I missed another classmate's request for prayer for her mother not doing well after surgery.  Thankfully, others prayed and her mother is recovering.  I missed keeping up with my cousin in New Orleans and how he was fairing through Hurricane Isaac.  He's fine, by the way.  So many other tidbits of the crrr-aziness of life I missed while I was offline.  What did we ever do without Facebook?  I thought it was the stupidest waste of time ever when I was prodded to sign up on Facebook several years ago when I was working on a class reunion, now it's my lifeline to lots of folks I care about but don't see often.  I mean, I can't stand around Wal-Mart or the grocery store 24/7 hoping to run into everyone.  So please, a little plea from someone who's experienced the big disconnect -- if you're on Facebook, just post a little something now and then about what's going on in your life.  Let your friends know you are still alive and kicking or having a hard time and need a prayer or a hug.  It's a priceless (and still free!) connection that makes life a bit sweeter.
   Couldn't work on my next book (or anything else) without my computer, so I got to enjoy some reading time.  Had a lot of laughs with Nora Ephron's "I Feel Bad About My Neck"!  I felt sad that she's dead now, but she sure left a lot of hootie, clever writing behind, especially for gals my age.  And no, I'm not saying what that age is, but if you read her book and look at my neck, you can make a pretty good guess.  I'm also still reading "Choosing Easy World" by Julia Rogers Hamrick, a very interesting but simple concept that's lifted me out of some ugliness in my head the past few days.  Worth a read, definitely.  DMan and I also had a short Branson adventure the other day, strolling around The Landing, doing a little wine tasting.  Both our wine racks now have every slot full.  He's become a greedy monkey when it comes to buying wine, but I'm blessed that he shares his vino bounty with me or else all I'd be drinking is cheap hooch from Wal-Mart!
   Looking forward to your Facebook updates and wishing yall a crrr-azy fun and safe Labor Day weekend.  Enjoy this luscious rain while we've got it!