THE RAMBLING STREAM (OF CONSCIOUSNESS)

[Pamela]

This will be a thread about nothing really.  Life in general.  Humorous or contemplative. Just whatever pops into your head.  Stream of consciousness if you will.  I'll start.-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Weddings.

Today I traveled with some other family members to Thomasville NC to attend the wedding of Mr P's aunt.  Her first husband died of cancer, and Aunt S was blessed to find someone else to share the rest of her life with. She is a teacher, and she married another teacher from her school, a man her age who has never married.  I would guess Aunt S is in her late 50s, early 60s.  She had a full blown church wedding and a lovely luncheon reception.  

The church was just across the street from the great big chair shown in Fantasia's going home special.  (Thomasville is just beside High Point, and both towns are furniture making meccas.) The vocalist (ouch my ears) sang two sweet songs and the attendant was fortunate to be able to wear a dress she can wear again outside of the wedding/shower/funeral triumverate.  (Ladies, can you relate?) The flower arrangements were informal Springtime bouquets and the groom wore a white morning tux.  Very sweet, very heartfelt and very touching.

During the wedding vows, instead of saying "for richer, for poorer," the vow was stated as "in adversity and in prosperity."  A much more appropriate phrase, (since the vast majority of us will never be monetarily "rich"), and one I like.  

It made me think that some of the other vows should also be changed. For example, what does "pledge your troth" mean?  That just sounds wacky.  Why can't you just say "pledge your faithfulness?"  Is that too scary to say?   And why do some vows end with "I now pronounce you man and wife?"  Is he not a husband at this point?  At what point does he become a husband?

Also, what's up with asking if there is any reason this man and this woman should not be married?  "Speak now or forever hold your peace!"  Sounds like a threat to me.  Of course there will always be plenty of reasons some people shouldn't get married, but they really just don't matter when you are standing there with a heart pounding with love.  

Love is blind, you know.  Sometimes the only thing you can do is scrunch your eyes closed and forge ahead!

So, if love is blind, can there be love at first sight?

[Pamela]

A friend sent me this, on the occasion of her own 50th birthday.  She did not write it, but found it in O magazine. Even though I am not yet  "30 or 40 years older" than 20, I found it to be chock full of meaningful thoughts, ideas and important life lessons for everyone, not just women!  It's good news for anyone who has lived any amount of time.  So, I wanted to share it with all of you.  Enjoy!

I was at a wedding Saturday with a lot of women in their 20s and 30s in sexy dresses, their youthful skin aglow. And even though I was 30 or 40 years older, a little worse for wear, a little tired and overwhelmed by the loud music, I was smiling. I smiled with a secret Cheshire-cat smile of pleasure and relief in being older. I would not give you back a year of life lived.

Age has given me what I was looking for my entire life - it gave me me. It provided the time and experience and failures and triumphs and friends who helped me step into the shape that had been waiting for me all my life. I fit into me now - mostly. I have an organic life finally, not the one
people imagined for me or tried to get me to have or the life someone else might celebrate as a successful one - I have the life I dreamed of. I have become the woman I hardly dared imagine I could be.
 
There are parts I don't love - until a few years ago, I had no idea that you could get cellulite on your stomach - but I not only get along with me most of the time now, I am militantly and maternally on my own side.
Left to my own devices, would I trade this for firm thighs, fewer wrinkles,
a better memory? On some days. That's why it's such a blessing I'm not left to my own devices. Because the truth is I have amazing friends to whom I can turn. I have a cool kid, a sweet boyfriend, darling pets. I've learned to pay attention to life, and to listen. I'd give up all this for a flatter belly? Are you crazy?

I still have terrible moments when I despair about my body. But they are
just moments - I used to have years when I believed I would be more
beautiful if I jiggled less; if all parts of my body stopped moving when I
did. But I believe two things now that I didn't at 30. When we get to
heaven, we will discover that the appearance of our butts and skin was
127th on the list of what mattered on this earth.

And I know the truth that l am not going to live forever, and this has set
me free. Eleven years ago, when my friend Pammy was dying at the age of 37 we went shopping at Macy's. She was in a wheelchair, with a wig and three weeks to live. I tried on a short dress and came out to model it for Pammy.  I asked if she thought it made me look big in the thighs, and she said, so kindly, "Annie? You just don't have that kind of time." I live by this story.

I am thrilled-ish for every gray hair and achy muscle, because of all the
friends who didn't make it, who died too young of AIDS and breast cancer.  And much of the stuff I used to worry about has subsided -what other people think of me and how l am living my life. I give these things the big shrug.  Mostly. Or at least eventually. It's a huge relief.
 
I became more successful in my mid-40s, but this pales compared to the other gifts of this decade - how kind to myself I have become, what a wonderful, tender wife I am to myself, what a loving companion. I get myself tubs of hot salty water at the end of the day in which to soak my tired feet. I run interference for myself when I am working, like the wife of a great artist would: "No, I'm sorry, she can't come. She's working hard these days and needs a lot of downtime." I live by the truth that "No" is a complete sentence.

I rest as a spiritual act.

I have grown up enough to develop radical acceptance. I insist on the right to swim in warm water at every opportunity, no matter how cold, no matter how young and gorgeous the other people on the beach are. I don't think that if I live to be 80 I'll wish I'd spent more hours in the gym or kept my house a lot cleaner. I think I'm going to wish I had swum more unashamedly, made more mistakes, spaced out more, rested. On the day I die, I want to have had dessert. So this informs how l live now.

I have survived so much loss, as all of us have by now - my parents, dear friends, my pets. Rubble is the ground on which our deepest friendships are built. If you haven't already, you will lose someone you can't live without, and your heart will be badly broken; and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of a beloved person.

But this is also the good news. They live forever, in your broken heart that doesn't seal back up. And you come through. It's like having a leg that never heals perfectly - that still hurts when the weather is cold - but you learn to dance with the limp. You dance to the absurdities of life; you
dance to the minuet of old friendships. I danced alone for a couple of
years, and came to believe I might not ever have a passionate romantic
relationship - might end up alone! I'd been so terrified of this my whole
life. But I'd rather never be in a couple or never get laid again than to be
in a toxic relationship. I spent a few years celibate. It was lovely, and it
was sometimes lonely. I had surrendered; I'd run out of bullets. But I
learned to be the person I wished I'd meet - at which point I found a kind,
artistic, handsome man.

We have been together 20 months now. When we get out of bed, we hold our lower backs, like Walter Brennan, and we smile.  Younger women worry that their memories will begin to go. And you know what? They will. Menopause has not increased my focus and retention as much I as I'd been hoping. But a lot is better off missed. A lot is better not gotten
around to. I know many of the women at the wedding fear getting older, and I wish I could gather them together again and give them my word of honor that every one of my friends loves being older, loves being in her 50s, 60s, 70s.

My Aunt Gertrude is 85 and leaves us behind in the dust when we hike.
Look, my feet hurt some mornings, and my body is less forgiving when I
exercise more than I'm used to. But I love my life more, and me more. I'm so much juicier. And, like that old saying goes, it's not that I think less of myself, but that I think of myself less often. And that feels like heaven to me.

Originally printed in O Magazine.

[Prissy]

Pamela,
This will be a wonderful thread.  As a long time "rambler," I look forward to "ramblin'" here!  

Your account of Mr.P's aunt's wedding was a pleasure to read and reminded me of a few weddings I've seen or been a part of.  I may ramble about some weddings, sometimes.

The article about being "older" hit really close to home.  I am also 30 years older than someone in their twenties, but I'm not totally sure I would not like to be 25 again!  Or maybe 40! :I am still surprised to think that I am as old as I am, because inside I still feel like I'm the person I was at 25 or even 40. It's only when I see a picture of me that I say, "Who is that person?" Actually,  I think the person stays the same; it's just the "packaging" that changes!

This will be a fun place, and I look forward to lots of ramblings from all those ramblers out there!    :D

Prissy

PS: I am off to another wedding in an hour, or I would do more rambling now! :

[outthereforclay]

Pamela, I am picturing so many of the women reading this article from our website smiling and crying as the words hit home or when they sting because they should. The entire article is noteworthy, but there are some expressions of truth so poignant, I had to comment:

Age has given me what I was looking for my entire life - it gave me me.

And I am thankful for that. I can remember hearing "older" women saying this when I was one of the younger ones, and thinking, "Yeah, right, lady! I'm sure you just LOVE your love handles and the bags under your eyes and the floppy skin on the back of your upper arms. That's all...quite attractive." Because then the measure of "me" was indeed so totally focused on appearances--both physical and otherwise. Now I guess, no--I AM one of the older ones, and guess what? I AM wiser, too!

"... but I not only get along with me most of the time now, I am militantly and maternally on my own side. "

This made me laugh out loud! Ain't it the truth? I DO get along with me most of the time, and during the times that the old "God, Amy, what the hell were you thinking?" or "For crying out loud, woman, what will people think?"...mantra threatens to reestablish its stronghold on me, I can take a deep breath (enjoying how perky that act makes my breasts look again) and remind myself that no one is really paying that much attention to me to have an opinion about what I just said or did as much as I do!

But I believe two things now that I didn't at 30. When we get to
heaven, we will discover that the appearance of our butts and skin was
127th on the list of what mattered on this earth.

Now here is where I disagree with the author. I wouldn't put this appearance thing any higher than 152 on the list.

And I know the truth that l am not going to live forever, and this has set me free.

I imagine most of us reading this and the story of her dead friend just before this can relate to this phenomenon...and blessing of life. One of my dearest friends died 10 years ago of cancer and to this day, I can both cry and smile thinking of her. I hope that when it is my time, I can show the grace and gratitude that she did in her last months. I hope that when I'm gone, someone will remember me for something important like that.

And much of the stuff I used to worry about has subsided -what other people think of me and how l am living my life. I give these things the big shrug. Mostly. Or at least eventually. It's a huge relief.

This is now one of my major goals in life. I have come to believe that only when I CAN give these things the "big shrug" completely will I be able to fully explore and experience the depth of potential in me. I feel that in the last few years, especially, I have made great and wonderful steps toward this goal and doing so has truly, truly enriched my life...and has made me a more rewarding person to know.

the other gifts of this decade - how kind to myself I have become, I live by the truth that "No" is a complete sentence.

"No" is indeed a complete sentence. I have never really had too much trouble saying "no" to others, but I have only become more comfortable saying "no" and nothing else. It is a work in progress...I still often feel the need to justify my decision to say "no" with reasons and excuses and rationalizations....but I'm "getting it" more--all those words are more for me than for the person to whom I'm speaking. For that person, "no" was more often than not the last part they heard anyway.

I don't think that if I live to be 80 I'll wish I'd spent more hours in the gym or kept my house a lot cleaner. I think I'm going to wish I had swum more unashamedly, made more mistakes, spaced out more, rested. On the day I die, I want to have had dessert. So this informs how l live now.

I love this because it liberates me! I say this whenever I begin getting down on myself for not being "Dora Domestic" and keeping the dust bunnies in their cages. I think I'll start collecting these little sayings; you know, like "When I'm and old woman, I think I'll wear purple" or "Life is short, eat dessert first." I bet saying these ditties over and over is better for your blood pressure than "I am SUCH a lousy housekeeper!"

But I learned to be the person I wished I'd meet

Just think what a place this world would be if everyone felt this way. And you know what, in the last year especially, I want to tell you all that this is the way I feel about myself! The enrichment of my life that knowing and loving Clay has created and the consequent effects---new thinking, new experiences, new friends--has been a major factor getting me to that place, too.

My body is less forgiving when I exercise more than I'm used to. But I love my life more, and me more. I'm so much juicier.

Amen! I am sore today. My husband and I went for a 2-hour bike ride yesterday in beautiful weather. I was listening to Clay on my headphones and he was listening to..someone else. But we smiled at each other a lot and sometimes when we had to stop at an intersection, one of us would lean over to the other for a quick kiss. I loved my life then, and I love my life this morning with the sore butt from an unforgiving bicycle seat and sore knees from vigorous pedaling! And somewhere in between those two times of excercise and soreness, I was fortunate enough have a chance to be a vibrant, desirable, sexy, "juicier" woman who was able to show how much she loves her husband and who was comfortable accepting that love back. And I definitely loved myself then! Life is good, y'all!

And, like that old saying goes, it's not that I think less of myself, but that I think of myself less often. And that feels like heaven to me.

Well, I'm not here quite yet. I'll start thinking of myself less often after I revel a little longer in thinking more of myself! That's such a relatively new sensation, I'm going to indulge myself a bit more first!

And if you have a problem with that....

Oh well (visualize a "big "Outthere" shrug", here)....have a great day!

[clayfannj]

Pamela..
This article speaks to me in a very profound way..  It recites my secret  diary  and explains my own personal journey...

I've experienced so much of what this alludes to,  I guess what some would call tragedies or difficulties in life.And yet  I feel  that I've lived a happy life, and back over my it with a smile...and warm memories..

I truly do like who I am right now and am finally comfortable in my own skin..It took a journey to get there..but that was ok..and was well worth the trip..

I also find that I  now can handle criticism, setbacks and disappointments in life pretty well.. They are so trivial and almost amusing in their challenge..Kind of like a most annoying mosquito waiting to be swatted..

Would I have liked some things to be different? An absolute moot point.. Everyone has dips in the road.. Some of us just have them bunched together...We have no control over that...So what..

I think what  this author really speaks to is the self confidence that maturing afffords you..Therein lies the self acceptance...

As for youth.. it is not measured in wrinkles.. it is measured in laughter, enthusiam, adventure and zest..Youth is not visceral...it is ethereal...  I know  some very "ANCIENT" twenty somethings..The'y've been old since the day they were born.

[Pamela]

Memorial Day.

I was happy to see the local newspaper made strong notice of the day on their website; a pretty powerful statement and image in my opinion.

I admit that Memorial Day has never been a holiday to which I gave a huge amount of thought.  Yes, that's shameful.  Especially considering the fact that my uncle was a Vietnam War veteran who suffered so silently and internally from his memories he basically drank himself to death.

So today I'm thinking about my uncle, Mark Douglas Hendrickson. He enlisted just after high school and was basically a kid when he went to Vietnam.  He spent his war days in a helicopter in the DMZ (demilitarized zone.) This was essentially the border between North and South Vietnam.  The defoliant 'agent orange' was sprayed there, in order to remove the vegetation so the border could be seen and guarded from the air.

Many health problems were caused by agent orange.  Other health problems were born during this war that had nothing to do with anything other than the misery of the soldiers fighting there - drug addiction and alcoholism.

My uncle was a sweet, big hearted and gentle man; a large man who always had a smile and a kind word.  He loved golf, and jokes.  He had a great sense of humor.  He loved to read and he never drove when he was drinking.  He let me shoot one of his handguns once, and even though it knocked me on my butt, I enjoyed the heck out of it.  I miss him.

Last night on 60 Minutes, they ran photos of all the military personnel killed in the Middle East since the start of our current war.  A few weeks ago, Nightline on ABC did the same thing, stating all the names of the fallen heroes.

All the names, and in some cases pictures, of US and coalition force casualties are listed on THIS page at CNN.com.  If you read this, please go there and look at the names and the faces of the people who have sacrificed everything on behalf of fulfilling their military duty.  

No matter what we may think of this war, or war in general, the fact remains that these brave men and women and so many others in the past have given the ultimate sacrifice for their country, and I am grateful to them and for them.

[ClaysMD]

So I'd like to ramble a bit about Memorial Day.

I come from a family with several generations of veterans, back to WWI.  Thankfully, each one came home to their loved ones, but I do know that they left pieces of their hearts behind with buddies who died in the field.  Memorial Day is a big deal for my family.

I've always had tremendous respect for a person who has enough courage to wake up each day in a foreign country, knowing that the people you are fighting HATE you so much that they will do everything possible to try to kill you, without even knowing who youare, what your kids are like, how much you love your husband or wife, how you live your life.  How terrifying to know, "Today, I might die."

Today I was thinking about the scariest situation I have ever been in; when I needed the most courage I could possibly muster.  I was a first-year resident my first night on call, and my code pager went off, meaning that someone in the hospital was actively trying to die.  Unfortunately, it was a patient on the Orthopedic floor, where the staff is the least familiar with code protocols and medications, and I am the greenest doctor in the hospital, 2 months out of med school.  I ran up the stairs desperately hoping I would not be the first doctor to get to the room, but no such luck.  I got that horrible, nauseating, heavy pit in my stomach when I realized that I was in charge.  It took every ounce of courage I had NOT to run out the door, but to step to the head of the bed and start giving orders.  When it was all over and the patient was safely in the hands of the Cardiologist, I went back to the call room, vomited, and cried my eyes out.  I had NEVER been that scared before, and it wasn't even my own life I was worried about.

So whenever I hear that we are deploying more soldiers somewhere, I am so thankful for these people and the families they leave behind.  I know that in my short lifetime I haven't a clue yet as to what REAL fear and courage are all about.

[cjrmax]

I was first going to comment on the "O" article and then I read what Pamela wrote about Memorial Day.  Somehow my worries and fears about growing older seemed to pale in comparison.  I am a bleeding heart liberal.  My sense of right and wrong were formed as I came of age during the height of the Viet Nam war protests.  I carried a sign against the Viet Nam War when, at age 14, Nixon came campaigning to my town.  I chanted "Peace Now! Peace Now!" while my fingers flashed the "V" that symbolized elusive peace.  My parents thought I was doing it just to be cool.  I wasn't.  I was doing it because every fiber of my being told me that that war was wrong, just as every fiber of my being tells me the war in Iraq is wrong.  But just as wrong, in my mind, was the way returning soldiers were being treated back then.  The way they were harrassed, spat upon, belittled, often forgotten as they were a symbol of a very unpopular war.  Many of them hadn't asked to go to Viet Nam.  This was back in the day when there was the military draft.  So many of the young men (just men back then) who couldn't afford college or didn't have influential or wealthy friends or relatives were forced to go and fight and too often die for a war they didn't believe in or didn't even understand.  They didn't deserve the treatment they received when, if they were lucky, they returned home.  In my opinion, I feel those who left for Canada to avoid having to fight that war were heroes in their own way for they stayed true to their beliefs.  But to condemn those who did go - whether they believed in the war or not - was wrong too.  When I see the Viet Nam Veterans' Memorial in DC,  it shows me the true cost of war, all the wasted young lives sacrificed in the name of politics.  Too often, amid the flag waiving and patriotic speeches, this is lost.  That's why I applaud when shows like "Nightline" put faces and names to the casualty figures.  I know some affiliates refused to air that show.  I think some are afraid that when the reality hits people, support for this war will wane.  In this day and age of television, war is all too often depersonalized.  If that happens, war will happen too often and too easily.  Whatever your feelings for this or any war may be, we as a people can never ever lose sight or the true cost of war.  That, too me, should be the moral of Memorial Day - never forget, not only those who served and died for their sacrifice, but to never forget how much their sacrifice truly cost this nation.

[Pamela]

Words.

I've decided to claim something I wrote a long time ago.  Last summer actually.  I originally posted it at Todd's first website under the member name 'Sister.'  That was me. There is a long and boring story behind this, so I'll just post the words.  You may have seen it posted on the Ideal Idol website and other places as well.  Without my permission of course, but whatevah.  Here is what I wrote:

I don't care if Clay is gay, straight, neutered or hung like a horse.

I don't care if he is liberal, conservative or communist.
If he hates cats, dogs, foreign cars or babies, it is of no concern to me. Allergic to half the food pyramid? So what?

Buys all his clothes at JCPenney? Who cares?
I don't care if uses a flat iron or a waffle iron on his hair, or if it's dyed, permed, braided or duct taped.

Loose pants? Tight pants? Striped shirts? No shirts? Shoes? Sandals? Whatever.

Feet, fingers, @#%$, thighs, eyes, lashes, ears, tummy...all just body parts. Pleasant to look at, but I can take or leave.

I don't care what the "cool" people, or the "hip" people think of me for loving Clay. It's irrelevant.

What I do care about, with the blazing passion of a million suns, is that the man can sing his head off.

Listening to Clay sing is like standing naked on a rock under a waterfall, his voice sliding lazily over you like cool water on a hot day.

It's true, I'm selfish. I will always support Clay and his singing career because I want him to sing for me forever and a day.

[/b][/i]

I wrote this last summer, when, guess what?  People were ragging on Clay for his hair, his clothing, his sexuality, the way he supported his friends, his allergies, his phobias and everything else you can imagine. Some things never change.

All the criticism - it had gotten to the point of being absurd.  The man could SING.  Period. Amen and hallelujah, what else do you really need to know?  I had never been a 'fan' of a person before, so I was just amazed at all the intrusive, judgemental, accusatory comments that were being made by alleged 'fans.'  Is this what you had to do to be a 'fan?' I had no idea.  It wasn't me. I decided I wanted no part of all the hysteria.

HA!  Fat chance.  Look at me now.  :::

Anyway, I stand by these words I wrote in frustration almost a year ago. They are still true for me today.  All the stereotyping, the harping about being more 'edgy' and less 'cheesy' by so called supporters really made me want to stick around for a while and just observe.  Because I was intrigued by this guy who could giggle like a girl one minute then send a stadium full of women into nirvana the next with just a lipbite and a tug of his jersey. I was fascinated by this singer who stood against all that was expected, all the 'edge' that was de rigeur in pop music and be confident he would succeed on his own terms, in his own way and by his own standards.  

And he has.  And he will, because of those of us that consider him to be not an 'idol,' nor a saint, not even a role model; but just a man who has a kick ass voice and a heart of solid gold.  

What more do you need to know?

Oh, and feel free to post this anywhere you want. If you think it will do any good.

[mrs. c.]

Pamela, beautiful, just beautiful!!!

[Prissy]

WHAT DO YOU SAVE WHEN ALL COULD BE LOST?

Last evening, there were bad storms in our area, with thunder, lightniing, rain, hail, strong winds, and the most dreaded of all, tornado warnings and watches.  This is not unusual for our part of the country, especially in the springtime.  Texas and Oklahoma, and part of the midwest make up a belt known as "Tornado Alley."

My husband and I spent about 40 minutes where we always go when we are warned to take cover because of storms or possible tornadoes:  in his walk-in closet!  We are always told to go to a downstairs, interior room for the best protection, preferably, a bathroom.  All of our bathrooms have exterior walls;  in fact, all the rooms in our house have exterior walls, even my closet......so we head for his closet, our only interior space.

Tornadoes can cause such devestation.  There used to be a small town in Texas called Jerrell;  I say "used to be" because Jerrell no longer exists.  It was totally wiped out by tornadoes several years ago.  Everything is gone, and whole families disappeared.  It almost sounds like something from the  Twilight Zone.  

We think of tornadoes as usually being in more open areas, and especially attracted to trailer parks.  Yet, a few years ago, a tornado touched down in downtown Fort Worth.  Fortunately, it was in the evening and after most downtown workers had gone home!  No lives were lost, but there was tremendous damage to some of the buildings, including office buildings, a skyscraper, and a church.  We drove through the area soon after and felt quite thankful that it was not as bad as it could have been and that most buildings were empty at the time.  The most amazing sight to me was the church.  There was a tower that you could now see into because the whole outer wall was gone.  Even more amazing was the steeple of the church which had set atop that tower.  It sat, perfectly intact, on the ground beside the ravaged church!

The office buildings were replaced or repaired, and the church was removed and now a large Pier One buildiing is in its place.  Only the skyscraper is still a reminder of that day.  For a while, it was going to be imploded, but after 911, no one wanted to bring down any buildings;  it seemed too harsh and disrespectful!  Now, the building has been bought by a large company, and it will be renovated into condos.

So, here we sit in the closet, and my husband says, "We're overdue!"  I hate that phrase, "overdue."  It's as if, because we have not had a truly devastating tornado, our time is coming.  I sit on a small stool in the closet and try to imagine what it would be like to walk out of that closet and see only rubble and destruction all around me, as if a bomb had struck.  I can almost see it, but then my mind refuses to go there;  too terrible to imagine.

Now we come back to the original question:  What do you save when all could be lost?  I always take my violin, my purse, and my "stash of cash" into the closet.  My husband takes his laptop and bottles of water.  The closet already has a radio and flashlights.  I'm sure there are other important things we should take with us, but these seem to be enough.  In my heart of hearts, I don't feel a tornado will hit us, but in my head, I know it could.

This morning I learned that we were very lucky. A good portion of Tarrant County lost power;  in fact, power lines were down having been hit by tree limbs.  Homes and businesses lost roofs.  No tornadoes touched down, but the winds, up to 80 miles an hour, were as devastating!  

We were lucky!  We "dodged the bullet," again,  THIS TIME!

Prissy

[Sasha]

Prissy Glad your okay.  It must be scary, I have never witnessed one.  We don't usually get those in New England, there have been some but never where I  live.  
Glad your okay.

Sasha

[tessie]

I love Clay Aiken and will want to listen to him for life, but being a fan often wears me down.  I find myself growing weary of what I can only describe as competition....for tickets, for concerts, for backstage passes, for good seats, for TV shows, for personal moments with Clay.

I am weary of the rumors, the speculations, the desire to find scandal, the intrusions into his private life.  I am weary of no airplay, of sexual questioning, of the rude behavior of TV talk show people and AI judges. I am weary of polls and voting, of hysterical reactions and rash judgements.
I am weary of those who want him to fail and maybe even try to make it happen.

I have not been a fan before.  I know these are things encountered on the road to success.  I do not like them.  I know that as more people want to see him the more competitive it will get.  I know that I can step back and just listen to the voice which fills me up and warms my heart.  Perhaps that is what I will need to do.

[Prissy]

Tessie,
I can identify with what you are saying:  sometimes it is exhausting being a fan, especially a Clay fan, because it always seems to be an uphill "battle!"  The stress and turmoil with TRL, the constant  insults and rude comments by so called comedians, the lack of respect by radio and the music industry,  the never ending competition with Ruben, and now the infamous "picture."  It just goes on and on.

All we can do is just hang in there, and try not to take it all so seriously.  This is easier said than done, because Clay is like a member of our family.  When something is hurtful to him, we feel the pain, too.

I understand your frustrations with the concerts and getting tickets.  I hope I am smarter and luckier with tickets this go round with the summer tour!

I hope it helps that you are not alone.  Part of the solution is not to think about Clay so much. You are right; we need to just step back and enjoy his voice.

Prissy

[Pamela]

I always take my violin, my purse, and my "stash of cash" into the closet.  My husband takes his laptop and bottles of water.  The closet already has a radio and flashlights.  I'm sure there are other important things we should take with us, but these seem to be enough.

It's always easier to simplify when faced with the prospect of danger!  Prissy, your post about waiting for the tornado really gave me a flashback.  I never thought living in eastcentral NC would bring me into the face of danger; until Fran showed up.  Hurricane Fran was devastating to this area, we lost over 30 trees, had property damage, and my car took a direct hit (longways) from a tree that was felled by the storm.  Nine days and nights without electricity.  All I can say is, when they say get into the closet, get in there!  It's good you know what to take with you, and that most 'things' are replacable.  Sentimentality went right out the window when I was sitting, huddled with my cat, my dog and a book in the tiny bathroom off our family room.  When you are afraid the roof is going to fly off your house, not much matters except people, pets and yourself.  

When you think about it, that's how it should be all the time...

[cjrmax]

When I was little we lived in Michigan (Kalamazoo - don't laugh!).  Tornados were a part of life back then.  In school we not only had fire drills (leave the building) but we had tornado drills (we went in the hallways) but, being a child of the cold war, we also had bomb drills - bombs that the "commies" were going to drop on us, not the kind of bombs people think of in schools now.  For that, we went under our desks.  I always wondered what good going under those flimsy little desks would  do if someone dropped an atomic bomb on your school!   :roll: Anyway, I wasn't afraid of fire, nor bombs, but tornados scared the living daylights out of me. If they thought there was enough time we were sent home. At home, we had a basement made just for tornados.  I remember whenever the warnings came on tv, or whenever it was stormy and the skies took on that ominous greenish hue, I grabbed by favorite stuffed animal (a pink elephant) and my dog and went down to the basement.  Those were the 2 things that mattered most to me back then. To this day, I get that awful feeling in the pit of my stomach when I hear about possible tornados.  Although where I live now they are rare, they do happen.  In fact, the year befoe I moved in where I live now a tornado came by and took the roof off the barn to which my house is attached.  I only have one interior space in my place.  It is a closet under the stairs.  I already know if I need to, I will grab a radio, flashlight and my beloved dog (the only thing in my home that really matters) and sit in that closet - all night if I have to.  There is a side benefit if that were to happen, though.  That closet is where I store my wine!  Hmmm.  Better think to add a cork screw to that list!  :D

[Pamela]

I got that horrible, nauseating, heavy pit in my stomach when I realized that I was in charge.  It took every ounce of courage I had NOT to run out the door, but to step to the head of the bed and start giving orders.  When it was all over and the patient was safely in the hands of the Cardiologist, I went back to the call room, vomited, and cried my eyes out.  I had NEVER been that scared before, and it wasn't even my own life I was worried about.

CMD, all that stress and uncertainty you experienced back then, and the way you handled it, is probably one of the things that helps make you a good doctor now.  

My Mom is an RN (retired) and I was never so proud as when she got her board scores back and knew she was going to be a nurse.  The reason?  Because when I was around 10 yo and wanted my ears pierced, she made me go to a doctor to have it done.  Of course, I was mortified.  All my friends were doing it themselves (ouch) or having it done at the mall.

I felt like the biggest geek having to go to a doctor just to get my ears pierced.  During the procedure, the attending nurse moved quickly to my Mom, sat her down in the chair and pushed her head down between her knees.  It scared me so I called out 'what's wrong?!?' The nurse said my mother went pale and clammy and she was about to pass out.  Why?  Because my ear bled a little while being pierced.  So to know she spent her career dialyzing kidney patients and seeing lots of blood and who knows what else, made me very proud.

I guess you never know what you can do until you actually have to do it!

[Prissy]

Pamela and cjmax,

It does seem as if each part of the country has its own natural disasters to contend with:  hurricanes, tornadoes, and earthquakes.  Then there are the devastating floods and forest fires that can occur!

We do not have a pet now, but when we had our Sheltie, he would go in the closet, too.  That long body made things a little snug, but we all managed to fit into that closet space.  I forgot to mention that the cell phones also are included on the closet list.

Pamela, I have been to Raleigh, and I had my picture taken by a sign that says, Clayton so I know about how far you are from the coast. Hurricane Fran must really have reached inland!  Nine days without electricity!  That's hard to imagine!  We've gone without electricity for maybe a day, two, at tops. And a tree on your car!  Wow!

cjmax,  I think I am older than you, but I also remember "duck and cover" drills and going under those flimsy desks!  How could they have protected us! In Texas, or at least north Texas, basements are virtually unheard of, but that would certainly be the place to go in a storm.  My husband is from Iowa, and when we go up to visit friends and relatives, I always like to see their basements.  Many of them are finished rooms!

Prissy

[tessie]

Prissy,

I felt so silly last night posting fan woes in the middle of real life tornado worries.  I am glad that you are safe.  We here in California have earthquakes to contend with.  There is not much to do in preparation, just ride them out and look to see what the damage is.  I grew up mostly in San Francisco and would awaken periodically to feel the shaking and be so used to them that I would just go back to sleep.  The big ones, however, are another story.  When the last big one hit, I was on my way to pick up the carpool kids and was quite relieved that they were all safe.  Fortunately we have not had major damage so far.  

By the way, I remember duck and covers too...under desks and out in the halls.                       Carol

[Pamela]

I have not been a fan before.  I know these are things encountered on the road to success.  I do not like them.  I know that as more people want to see him the more competitive it will get.  I know that I can step back and just listen to the voice which fills me up and warms my heart.  Perhaps that is what I will need to do.

tessie, have you been cruising those other forums again?  :
Here is a big {{hug}} for you.  

I know it's frustrating.  When I first started as a mod here, I got a million PMs and emails...'you got audio? you got video? you got 'clack?' you got an inside scoop?  DO YOU KNOW CLAY?!?!?!'

Well, no, no, no and no.  I felt like turning in my fan card, I was surely unworthy!  And the competition...Clay and Ruben, Clay and Kelly, now probably Clay and Fantasia.  And some of the fans and the forums as well.  Who's the smartest?  The funniest?  The best fans? Who has the most news, the most concerts, the most members, the most 'clack!'  GAH!

Honestly?  I'm over it.  I'm just a normal old boring fan now.  Front row would be nice, but I'll take lower level.  Backstage would be fun, but I'll live if I never meet Clay.  

Don't worry, and whatever you do, don't leave!  Trust me, at some point you'll be able to sit back with a big bowl of popcorn and just observe all the proceedings.  The angst, the criticism, the anger, the hysteria, the jealousy, the trauma, the drama!  It will be like one of those B movies that are so bad they are entertaining as heck.   8)

I'd be curious to know if or how everyone's level of fan intensity has changed, if it has; keeping in mind that there are thousands and thousands of fans that aren't on the Internet at all! Are you more or less intense than a year ago?  Do you feel the Internet has enhanced your fan experience or caused you distress?   Discuss!