78 is GREAT!

What the hell did you expect on my 78th post?

Yeah, 78 is great. Why? Because it was the year I left my home town for the first time and graduated from high school, in that order.

I've been listening to Coldplay since shortly after I got up and got on the computer today. Hit a mix list and let YouTube do it's magic. Thank God, 'cause I discovered that my X&Y and Viva la Vida CD's are gone. FUCK! Like I meant to say, "Thank FUCKIN' God for YouTube!"

The word of the day is F U C K. Why? Because I said so. It has nothing to do with liking you.

While The Beatles were my childhood personal gurus and a series of bands followed, Coldplay captured my heart when "Yellow" hit the airwaves. I only found out about Coldplay because of a Black Lab, Pitbull mix that my daughter brought home after a road trip to Oregon.

"So have you decided on a name?"

"No, and stop asking," she snapped.

"We really can't keep him."

"We're keeping him."

"Are you prepared to take care of him?"

"YEAH!"

"So what's his name?"

"Shut UP!"

Yep. Some stupid Oregon woman dumped an innocent puppy with my daughter. My daughter probably told her that her mom would help. Oh what fun we had.

So one day, I'm driving home and see my daughter and one of her friends carrying the puppy up the street. Naturally, I stop to say hello and inquire about their plans. Not-So-Innocently, I ask if my daughter has named the puppy, yet.

"Yellow," spouted my daughter's friend.

"Hey!" my daughter objected.

I smiled, "Oh, like that song?"

"NO!" my daughter scowled, "NOT after the song. DEFINITELY Not after the song. Hate that song. Stupid song."

"Oh. 'Cause he's a Black Lab?"

"No! Gees," my daughter grumbled, rolled her eyes, lifted her shoulders up to her chin and her palms to the sky, "Anything else?" she finished with her perfect evil, sarcastic smile and cock of her head to the left.

"No. Have fun."

I found dear Yellow a home with a military family who had just had to put the dad's longtime companion down. This young military dad was awesome. There were two or three kids. I never saw the mom. When I went back a couple of weeks later because I missed Yellow and wanted to check on him, I was very warmly welcomed.

"Hi. He's a runner. I've never had a runner before," said Young Military Dad.

I winced, acknowledging that I knew, "Yeah. Are you OK? Is he?"

"Oh yeah. I'm just keeping him on a leash for now. It would be nice to let him run at the beach, but we'll get there. He's great with the kids, and is learning to listen. Still a puppy," Young Military Dad laughed.

I took a seat and held back. Yellow was very excited and jumped on the sofas. Dad and kids told him to get down and went over to him, grabbed his collar and firmly showed him the way off the couch.

When the kids plopped down on the sofa facing me, I watched as Yellow jumped up behind them and snuggled along their backs. They giggled and pushed him to the edge of the couch without getting mad. Dad didn't get mad either.

After Yellow was evicted from the children's couch, he came over to me. He jumped up and started snuggling my back. I did the same as the children had done, but held his head for a brief moment and told him, "You've found a good home where you're going to be very happy. Stop running away from these people and listen to them. They love you."

Yellow snuggled up to my legs and we had a wonderful Good-Bye hug. I never went back to check on him. Oh, and they changed his name to something that I've forgotten.

It wasn't the first time that I'd had to find a home for an animal, all of whom I grew to love in whatever short time we had together. It's never gotten easier.

As a result of Yellow, though; I learned what the band's name was that sang the song. I looked at pictures. I listened to more of Coldplay's music. I fell in love.

(Now "Yellow" is playing on the Parachutes CD. It sounds so much better on the stereo than on YouTube. I used to sing "Yellow" to Yellow all the time and cry because I knew that I'd have to find another home for another pet and lose another love. I hadn't found Kaylynn, yet.)

I'm wiped. I don't know about you, but that's an emotional story for me.

Still haven't folded any laundry, but I did clean up my finger nails. Toes are looking good, and I've got some clothing options hanging on one of my hooks in the office. You know, prep for one day of work tomorrow.

I have no idea what this will do to my Unemployment Benies, but Fuck It! Remember, the word of the day is F U C K. I Don't Care Anymore! I refuse to give in to my fears. If everything gets turned off and we can't make rent - Fuck It! The one thing I know is that I'm prepared to be homeless rather than go back to my home town. Just test me, God. Just test me. I'll die before going back there to live. Gladly.

One a different note, the house is clean because I can hear and picture SA from last night informing BB and I of our Rules of House Maintenance. She's so funny when she's mad. I love pushing her buttons.

Some of the choicest lines were:

"There's ONLY TWO of You! It was cleaner with a crew of twelve in here than it is with just You Two!
"What? I'm related to royalty. I delegate."

"Honestly, SA. You're being very Polish. We're Norwegians. No worries. We'll conquer you, too."

"NO! That's Wrong! What do I have to do? Come over and clean for you?"

"If you're so inclined."

"That's it! I'm cleaning the kitchen!"

"You don't have to."

SA & BB cleaned the kitchen in about ten minutes. BB couldn't possibly let SA clean up the kitchen alone like I could. She's his girlfriend, and the mess was at least half his.

SA even insisted on cleaning up the dollhouse. I took the mats apart.

I went back to sitting in my chair. BB went back to the computer.

SA re-entered our living room and said, "There's only two of you. Use a dish and wash it. How hard is that?!"

"By hand?"

"Load the dishwasher."

"Oh, but what do we do if the dishwasher is full of clean dishes? BB?"

"We unload it."

"Oh, so you'll do that?"

BB nodded his head. SA witnessed it, and I'm narcing HERE!

Of course much cavorting went on with SA throwing herself on the floor at my feet and everything. We laughed so much. So in respect of the laughter and work done, I've been cleaning up after myself today and have even eaten a proper lunch. Think I'll run the dishwasher and not use another dish. That means BB will have to unload it when he wants to put his dirty dish in the dishwasher; or maybe, I'll unload it, too.

I've got Italian Sausage defrosting. I'm going to make some thing with vegetable, Italian Sausage, chicken, and rice or pasta for dinner. Haven't a clue what it will be like.

Oh to be able to get paid to do this everyday. Well, this and more. OK, time to go put on the Rush of Blood to the Brain" CD.

AND what does all of this have to do with 78 being Great? Well, like I said, "It was the year I left my home town for the first time and graduated from high school, in that order."

"Yeeeeaaahhhhhhh! How long must you wait for... uh for it!"

"I was scared. I was scared. .... "

OH YEAH! Scared doesn't begin to say what I'm feeling about my decision about tomorrow. FUCK IT! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!

All I gotta do is drive my fat ass down to the location and listen. That's all. What's so hard about that. You'd think there were machine guns involved or something.

It will be Saturday's post that may be interesting or short. We'll see how tired I am. Friday's will have to be early. Saturday's a big day, too!

Let's hear it for everyone who overcomes some sort of fear and lives to tell about it. It's really kinda thrilling, if you choose to think about it that way.

CARPE DIEM! To The Pain! Coldplay's really rocking it, GOTTA GO DANCE!

If I Do This ...

... will that happen?

"What If" is a game that I became aware of while watching Sesame Street. I used to watch a lot of Sesame Street with my children. I'd watched it before. It premiered on November 10, 1969.

Wikipedia Entry for Sesame Street - (and yep - cut & paste - to read about the Carnegie Institute, Joan Ganz Cooney, Jim Henderson, and many others who intelligently created a new genre of educational television for children. NOTE: "Cooney suggested creating a program that would spread prolearning values to both viewers and nonviewers (including their parents) that would affect them for many years after they stopped watching it.") - GOAL MET.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sesame_Street

Like I said, "I never know exactly what will come out of the fingertips when I start to write these things." Wasn't exactly expecting Sesame Street, but it does play in.

One of my dream jobs was to work for Sesame Street and/or The Children's Television Workshop. I've only dreamed about it. I don't like the current turn that Sesame Street has taken, but it's not entirely terrible. I also wish it was on more often. Strange, huh. Wanting a show on more often (and at better times) when I don't like it as much as I did before. Sesame Street has definitely had a lasting, effective affect on me and countless others.

As time has progressed, I've found that I've fallen in love with little kids again. Their joy and innocence is addicting. How they learn and so quickly! Little sponges running around sucking it all up. It's after they squeeze something out from that sponge that they learn about filtering. What is OK to say. What is not. Behavior; good, bad and so-so. Experiencing this process can be exhilarating. It is exhausting, too. Children force me to be aware of my words and deeds, and I like that. I am not afraid of children.

I've been in love with TV for a long time. The combination of TV and Early Childhood Education was and is brilliant. At one hour in total length cut up into many vignettes, Sesame Street provided me with many opportunities to interact with my children throughout the show. We laughed when we watched Sesame Street and while we retold the stories we had seen. We discussed lessons like "What If" a lot. We talked about all the characters, and why we liked them. Well, before my children could talk, I talked about all the characters, and why I liked them a lot. One of my favorite characters was "The 'A' Machine."

People are constantly griping about TV being used as a babysitter, and I stand proudly guilty as charged. I plopped my kids down to watch Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers. If I had the time, I plopped down with them. If I didn't, I constantly checked in on them and stayed for a moment or two. One of my favorite memories of my son is because of a moment when he was watching Sesame Street just like "A Guy."

Imagine if you will, a two year old boy propped up on his daddy's pillow, laying in his parents bed, watching Sesame Street; one arm bent with his hand behind his head, the other bent with his hand hooked in under his waist band.

"No. No, no. No, no, no," I thought, "What am I going to say? Oh My God! No!"

"Honey, what are you doing? Are you having fun?" I said.

No response.

"Dear. Take your hand out from your waist band, please," I continued, "Gentlemen don't sit like that."

"Huh?"

"Your hand, Sweetie. No not that one. The other one. That's it. Thank you."

I went off to the kitchen to continue my work and breathe while making gestures I didn't want my children to see. When I checked back later, he was at it again.

"Boo-Boo," I reminded.

He removed his hand. He was a pretty quick learner. He also didn't really like being called Boo-Boo. He got the nickname because of Yogi and Boo-Boo. My daughter was taller and took the lead. My son was smaller and followed while questioning the sanity of the decisions.

It's one of my favorite stories about my son. He just graduated from Film School. He's found his passion. His Senior Project was autobiographical; both funny and scary. He can be sloth-like. He can toil like an ox. He's still funny as hell, and to prove it -

Right now, I am listening to him make sounds in the shower; weird yawning, waking up sounds. I swear I heard singing.

He's still "a guy." I've raised me "A Man!" I don't correct him too much anymore. Besides, I consider myself lucky. I only know as much as I do about my son because he still lives with me. His bedroom is his sanctuary, so I butt out.

I even understand, "What?! It's warm." Used to gross me out so bad! Ewwwwww. Now, I've learned the joys of the waist band and the hand(s). It is warm and so perfectly proportional. I've learned many things from my son, and he's learned a lot from me because of Sesame Street.

I wonder if there's a parent and/or teacher out there who has their students make sock puppets or stick puppets, so that their character can give a presentation on a letter or number - to start. That's a pretty basic idea that's good for the ages. Seems I had a teacher, or was it a parent or grandparent, that did that. When I see my granddaughter again, I'll have to have some socks, material, yarn, buttons, needles, thread and glue available. I think I made puppets with my kids. I don't know. Seems laundry lent itself to a few silly sock situations. I have a vague memory of a blind, white newt doing a comedic bit.

If I do this will that happen? It's good to think before doing something. It's good to think while doing something. It's good to have rules that change. It's good to find compromise. It's good to play while working. Talking and laughing are two of the best healing forces around.

My son's girlfriend and I had stressful days yesterday. Off in our own worlds, we shared a certain emotional intensity due to dissimilar situations. My son and I listened to her. My son and she listened to me. My son interjected humor. We did not respond. I offered an affirmation. She responded and started laughing while saying it because my son started offering other voices she could say it with. She turned the table on me with an affirmation, and my son offered a voice. Off we went with our venting/healing session. We are so lucky.

We finished up the evening sharing pet stories. Most of them were funny, and that felt so good. Anytime a story became a bit too serious, we became aware and switched focus to funny, without stating it specifically, understanding that the hour was late and there really was nothing more to be done except laugh, get some rest, and wake up to a new day. Of course, we talked and laughed for hours and stayed up way too late again, but we all went to bed a bit happier and more relaxed; or so I want to believe.

It takes a long time and lots of approaches to get something right. For instance:

My son is now headed out. Before leaving, he walked toward me with his arms outstretched for our hug. My son pretty much always does this. Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time, I'm receptive. This time before he arrived at my side, I already had my arms outstretched towards him. How lucky am I? I'm luckier than you know because before leaving, without any prompting, my son just "did the trash." Amazing. It's taken a long time and lots of approaches to get it right.

If I do this will that happen? It's such a good game, "What If."