Deviled eggs

I just spent several minutes searching for an entry in my first journal. Well not actually my “first” journal, but the first one that has continued for any length of time. Sixteen hundred seventy seven days. Whodda thought I’d ever develop such discipline?

The search was a washout. A dud.

But, more accurately, the journal entry from that day is lame. That’s the only way to describe it. An event that has become a story that I’ve told repeatedly, a story that makes me laugh each and every time I tell it, did not make the journal. No mention.

Not even a hint of it in my 11/28/12 journal entry. WTF?!?
How could I have not written at least two words: “Deviled eggs?!?!?”
There are entries on 11/28/12 and 12/1….but the twenty-ninth and thirtieth are two days with no journal entries.

We had Sunday dinner at Shelly’s good friends on the 28th. I was still auditioning for friend approval. I guess all of us were. The last line of the journal entry for that date says: “Time to get ready to go meet patty and robert….game on.”

The next journal entry, posted on December first, comes in at just under two thousand words. That’s a lot for one of my journal entries.
We had spent a couple of nights in Branson, and had seen The Hillbenders at The Rock House. It was one of our first hotel stays. A good time was had by all. Enough said about that 12/1 journal entry…
So here’s the story from November 28, 2012 that I have told numerous times.

Prior to that November night in two-thousand-twelve, Shelly and I had probably talked about eggs two dozen times during the 7 weeks we had known each other….almost always while having breakfast together.

I had heard numerous times that “I don’t eat eggs. I don’t like them.”
Not an omelet? Nope.
How about a souffle? Ugh.
You gotta like quiche though, don’t you? I hate quiche.
Cheesy scrambled? No way.
How about a fried egg on a burger with Canadian bacon? Yuck!!

Well, I don’t remember what else was sitting on Patty & Robert’s dining room table, on the first time I was ever in their house. But it do remember immediately noticing the large tray of deviled eggs, and hearing an excited Shelly: “Oh my favorite! I absolutely love deviled eggs!”

If there hadn’t have been a small child in the room I’m pretty certain that I woulda dropped a couple of F-bombs in one of my pet phrases, or at least an “are you shittin’ me?”

I was floored. How can you not eat eggs, yet love deviled eggs?
I don’t know.
It doesn’t matter.
But it does make for a good story…
I love the story. But what I really love is reading through those times in my journal, back before we were exclusive.

We met via OkCupid. One of our profiles included this: “So, at this point in my life I cannot be your one and only… However, I am not opposed to falling madly in love.”
The others profile was looking for someone to have fun with…“a playmate.”

Reading through those early journal entries, I’m a little surprised that I didn’t include a tidbit about the deviled eggs revelation. But there was a lot going on at that time.

I was witnessing my Mom’s steady decline. My marriage had been over for awhile…but it wasn’t yet over from a legal viewpoint. I was listening to more new music and seeing more live music than I had in years.
And I was falling in love…something I never expected to happen.
My journal mentions that I had three songs “on repeat” the week before that Sunday dinner.

George Strait singing “I ain’t here for a long time, I’m here for a good time…”

Brandi Carlile singing “The story.” I had never listened to her before Shelly sent me a link. Certain of the lyrics really hit home with me in 2012.
“…So many stories of where I’ve been
And how I got to where I am
But these stories don’t mean anything
When you’ve got no one to tell them to…”

And of course there was a song by Jackson Browne.
“…Love won’t come near me, she don’t even hear me
She walks past my vacancy sign
Love needs a heart, trusting and blind
I wish that heart was mine…”
Lately this song by Amos Lee has been on repeat.
“My heart is a flower
That blooms every hour
I believe in the power…”

I do believe in the power of love.
I do believe in having a good time….that “it’s half full, not a half empty glass, Every day I wake up knowing it could be my last…”
I do believe that stories are better when you’ve got someone to tell them to…
I do believe that “Love can change the world in a moment, But what do I know?”
I do believe in enjoying every bite of every sandwich.

Be. Just BE.

Separation Anniversary Weekend

If you’re a strict constructionist, the anniversary should be celebrated on March 6 each year. That’s the date from the calendar back in 2011.

I’ve chosen to celebrate the annual event on the first Sunday of March, i.e. a day rather a date.

And after this past weekend, which was one great roadtrip, I think I’ve decided that the first weekend of March should be designated “Separation Anniversary Weekend.”

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Indonesia….when will I be free?

I have this thing about song lyrics. That is not new news.

Sometimes I love a song when it’s lyrics could’ve been mine, especially if I had any writing talent. Sometimes I love the lyrics of a song when the lyrics are 180 degrees away from where I am, or where I’ve ever been.

And then there are songs like “Indonesia” by Amos Lee. It’s a little of both.

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Trifecta Tuesday: 2/9/16

Yesterday was a True Trifecta: (1) a life event; (2) a first time tune; and, (3) a song “on repeat.”

Back when I was working guy, I remember that there were these things called “life events” from an HR perspective. And probably all of us have seen a “life stress test” or two. Their separate lists have some things in common: marriage, divorce, birth, death.

Tuesday’s Life Event was the most joyous item from the above list: the birth of Shelly’s sixth grandchild. Eric, her youngest, and his partner Ashton became parents of a baby girl early yesterday afternoon. Jacob will be one heckuva big brother to Emilia Rose. This little angel is an adorable addition to a wonderful, young family.Emelia Rose

Shelly and Jacob, who both played hooky on Tuesday, headed to the hospital mid-afternoon to see Emilia and her proud parents. I stayed behind…two is company, three’s a crowd…and put on a couple of CDs that I had just checked out from the library. I’m not doing very well with a couple of my “pledges” for 2016 (exercise?! Yuck….), but I am doing very well at one of them: listening to new (to me) CDs.

I was in the process of sending Jib Jab cards to Eric and Ashton, when a song off a new CD caught my attention. I had never listened to any of the songs on Kacey Musgraves’ “Pageant Material” so they were all new to me. I was listening while I jib-jabbed, but it wasn’t until the 9th cut that I really Heard.

I have no idea how my memory is gonna perform in the future, but if it’s anything at all like it is now, epsecially when it comes to First Time Tunes, I expect to remember everything about this latest FTT. It’ll be helped by having this document. I can always re-read this….assuming I don’t forget that this piece even exists. 😉

As with most of my FTTs, it was the lyrics that caught my attention. Specifically it was this line: “…Before we get to heaven, baby let’s give ’em hell…”

I stopped what I was doing and listened to the rest of “Die fun.”

The last line of the song is “We can’t do it over.”

When I heard that, I replied out loud (to an empty apartment): “This…is one thing that I can do over!”

I pressed the repeat button on my CD changer.

I stood in front of our glass sliding doors, with the sun beating down, gazing at the courtyard…and thinking about life and life events.

Repeat. Then another time. And again.
I’m sure I’m not the only person who puts songs, or at times an entire album, on repeat. Over the years I’ve had a looooong list of songs (and albums) that I listen to over-and-over-and-over-again.

The majority of the songs that I put “on repeat” are ones that have lyrics that say something to me…

I imagine that sometimes it gets on people’s nerves when I put a song “on repeat.” And I’m sure it can be annoying if i’m singing along. Too bad. By about the 10th time that I had listened to “Die Fun” yesterday, I still hadn’t had enough. I subjected Shelly to “Die fun” when she got home. Fortunately, she is very tolerant of most of my behaviors…and is more aware of my “on repeat” songs than anyone.

For an incorrigible adolescent like me, the beginning of my my new FTT is perfect: “Do we really have to grow up, if we never do then so what?”

So is this line: “They say it’s now or never and all we’re ever gettin’ is older…”

Compared to the alternative, getting’ older is a great gig. But that does NOT mean that I have to grow up! Being “an adult” isn’t all it’s cracked up to be….

The refrain to this song says it all: “…We don’t know when it’s done, So let’s love hard, Let’s stay young, Let’s love hard, live fast, die fun…”

There are lots of things that “we can’t do over.” But for now I can put this song on repeat, I can smile at the thought of Emelia Rose, I can get warm standing in front of the plate glass windows, I can think about life and life events, and I can love hard, live fast and die fun.