Clearly, every blogger on the planet is writing about the first Moon Walk.
But I think 1969 in general, deserves a nod.
I was almost eleven years old when man landed on the moon on July 20, 1969.
My parents made a big deal of it, and I got to stay up late to watch it. My parents were excited and so that let me know it was a big deal. I remembered thinking, "I thought we did this already." Such is the jaded mind of a ten year old. But then again, the TV had brought so many astounding events into our homes is it any wonder?
Vietnam was a daily dose of reality on TV during the dinner hour. My father's cousin was killed there and that made it more real. I had nightmares about war machines in the sky. The first troop withdrawls of American Soldiers were sent home that summer. But sadly Americans didn't welcome them home or treat them as heroes as we do our soldiers today. They were twice, the victims of an unpopular war and were treated badly. (Years later it still pains me to hear a beau recall his personal experiences upon returning to the U.S. after serving his country.)
Mary Jo Kopechne was killed at Chappaquiddick, which once again brought the Kennedy family back into the forefront with another scandal and tragedy.
The Tate and LaBianca murders happened that same summer. It affected me so much that I recently made a pilgrimage to CA to see the La Bianca and Tate homes and even Ms. Tate's grave. (The Tate home has since been demolished.) I recalled the graphic memories as I stood by Ms. Tates grave and shivers crawled up my spine. So very sad.
The REAL Woodstock happened that summer. The day after my 11th birthday, which really made it stand out in my mind. I remember watching the Woodstock hippies on TV and thinking how cool those teenagers were. (How could I have known that my future ex-husband and father of my children was somewhere in that rain-soaked, pot-smoking, hippy crowd?)
John Lennon and Yoko Ono staged their 'Bed In' along with a solo which pretty much meant that the Beatles were probably going to cease to exist. I think the Beatles made their last public appearance sometime that year on the roof of Abbey Road Studios and that was pretty cool too.
Even the Gay Rights Movement was born as TV covered the riots in NY.
All these grown-up events in the same year that the Brady Bunch came on the air. (And at that time who could have guessed that the Brady Bunch dad was Gay?)
Although it didn't happen in '69, The Jackson Five were soon to make their TV debut in 1970 which I also remember. I was absolutely amazed to realize that Michael was the exact same age as I was. (Born in August of 1958.) I remember the exact moment I learned this fact, hanging out with my then best friend Sue and playing Jackson Five records in her bedroom.
(Who could know in a few dozen more years, he would have invented his own Moon Walk, and come to such a tragic end?)
Monday, July 20, 2009
Living by the 8 Ball
Last week while grocery shopping, I noticed the 8 Ball toy. I didn't expect to see it there on the shelf in the context of being a grocery store item. As it sat there and I stared at it for a few seconds, it awakened the chambers of my brain that long ago stored away the memories of my young self looking to the 8 Ball to reveal the meaning of life.
All these memories in the flash of time it took me to reach for it on the shelf and find a special, safe spot for it in my cart.
I continued the mundane task of food shopping and actually forgot about it until I got home and unpacked it. Again, it demanded my attention and while unpacking the other groceries, I found another special, safe spot for it in my apartment where I could leave it until I finished my chores.
Once done, I retreated with a cup of tea to a comfy area while I contemplated the 8 Ball still in its packaging. I remembered that my sister somehow managed to claim my original 8 Ball. The packaging claimed that this new one had 20 responses, as though the original had fewer, but I have no memory of that detail.
As I removed the packaging, I did it as though I were unraveling a sacred object. I was struck by the almost ritualistic way I was perceiving and handling this little object. I realize now, that this moment was significant because it honored in its own way, the beginning of my childhood interest in making sense of the unknowable aspects of reality that we call life. Sure, my friends and I used the Ouija Board too, but the 8 Ball was a cut to the chase method and offered direct responses. And sometimes it even offered an opportunity to come back and check later (and who doesn't like that when they're obsessing over a question?)
Oddly enough, I didn't start asking a trillion questions. I asked only one that first day.
It occured to me that for all my effort in making the best choices I know how, it has not left me so well off in life. I don't mean to say that I am bitter, sad, or unhappy, but for all the effort I've used to think through the situations and decisions that define the parameters of my life, I'm really not very impressed with where I ended up. And so in holding that little ball of plastic in my hand it further brought to light that so much of life is random and has as much to do with luck and timing as really knowing the right answers.
When people ask me what my religion is my honest response is that I believe in the law of physics. Like numbers, laws of the natural world lack emotion. Events happen as a consequence of other prior actions. Every split second decision, action, and thing I have ever done in my life merges with everything everyone else has ever done and and leads me here to this moment, holding this little black 8 Ball at age 50 and still wondering what the heck is going on. Even the way I hold the ball, ask a question and retrieve the answer has to do with the actions that led to this moment. "So what the hell" I thought, "I'm gonna try asking the 8 Ball for some answers."
So there it is. I'm going to allow the seemingly random decisions of the 8 Ball to guide some of my daily activities when I have no real clue what to do or no opinion either way.
Oh, and for the record, my decision to start this blog was based on a question I had for the 8 Ball.
All these memories in the flash of time it took me to reach for it on the shelf and find a special, safe spot for it in my cart.
I continued the mundane task of food shopping and actually forgot about it until I got home and unpacked it. Again, it demanded my attention and while unpacking the other groceries, I found another special, safe spot for it in my apartment where I could leave it until I finished my chores.
Once done, I retreated with a cup of tea to a comfy area while I contemplated the 8 Ball still in its packaging. I remembered that my sister somehow managed to claim my original 8 Ball. The packaging claimed that this new one had 20 responses, as though the original had fewer, but I have no memory of that detail.
As I removed the packaging, I did it as though I were unraveling a sacred object. I was struck by the almost ritualistic way I was perceiving and handling this little object. I realize now, that this moment was significant because it honored in its own way, the beginning of my childhood interest in making sense of the unknowable aspects of reality that we call life. Sure, my friends and I used the Ouija Board too, but the 8 Ball was a cut to the chase method and offered direct responses. And sometimes it even offered an opportunity to come back and check later (and who doesn't like that when they're obsessing over a question?)
Oddly enough, I didn't start asking a trillion questions. I asked only one that first day.
It occured to me that for all my effort in making the best choices I know how, it has not left me so well off in life. I don't mean to say that I am bitter, sad, or unhappy, but for all the effort I've used to think through the situations and decisions that define the parameters of my life, I'm really not very impressed with where I ended up. And so in holding that little ball of plastic in my hand it further brought to light that so much of life is random and has as much to do with luck and timing as really knowing the right answers.
When people ask me what my religion is my honest response is that I believe in the law of physics. Like numbers, laws of the natural world lack emotion. Events happen as a consequence of other prior actions. Every split second decision, action, and thing I have ever done in my life merges with everything everyone else has ever done and and leads me here to this moment, holding this little black 8 Ball at age 50 and still wondering what the heck is going on. Even the way I hold the ball, ask a question and retrieve the answer has to do with the actions that led to this moment. "So what the hell" I thought, "I'm gonna try asking the 8 Ball for some answers."
So there it is. I'm going to allow the seemingly random decisions of the 8 Ball to guide some of my daily activities when I have no real clue what to do or no opinion either way.
Oh, and for the record, my decision to start this blog was based on a question I had for the 8 Ball.
If you really want to get to know someone play a game of Scrabble with them
Seriously, everything you want to know about a person you can learn in the time it takes to play a game of Scrabble. Including yourself.
I don't mean an online game. I mean a real, sit down with the board and people, game.
The last game I played was about two weeks ago while visiting west coast friends and it seemed harmless enough. "Yes, sure, why not?" I said. There were four of us.
I should have known I was headed for trouble when one of my friends started off by saying that she likes to modify the rules to allow the use of proper nouns. We all agreed since it seemed like a harmless change.
I suggested we get the dictionary. How do you play Scrabble (check challenges, etc) without a dictionary? Our friends didn't own a dictionary but decided that between the four of us we could determine a word's fair play. Sounded like trouble, but what the heck, I agreed to play what I perceived to be a casual, fun, anything goes game of Scrabble.
What was I thinking?
Suddenly the one rule change had sub rules. (OJ could not be used as a proper name since 'everyone knows it really stands for orange juice' or at the very most Orenthal James which still makes it an abbreviation and abbreviations aren't allowed) "Seriously?" I asked. I defended my position by saying no one would argue Tony wasn't a proper name even though it was a nickname for Anthony, so why didn't OJ count as a nickname for Orenthal James? And suddenly the anything goes crowd turned into cut throat competitors. I sheepishly retreated my O and J back onto my wooden rack. (I think I would have been allowed to use OJ if it weren't for the fact that in using OJ I was also able to make another word in another direction that would have granted me about 30 odd points for the play. I think that was the real issue.)
The next controversial word came about when the most vocal critic of OJ spelled out 'AX.' I recalled the last game of Scrabble that I had played (again with people who did not own a dictionary) and I had spelled AX only to be shot down because I was told AX had an e at the end. (And damnit I should have checked the spelling after that last game but I hadn't.) So undoubtedly to bust the chops of my OJ nemesis, I recalled that memory and claimed, "Ax ends with an e." She correctly claimed it could be spelled either way like blonde and blond and I honestly suspected she was right and I let it go. But she did not like being challenged and refused to use the word ax because she didn't want controversy and she spelled another word.
But the claws came out and for the rest of the game insults were disguised as jokes. When the rest of us took longer than 10 seconds to spell a word she and her husband hummed the theme music for final Jeopardy which precluded us being able to concentrate. We looked at each other and realized that all we could do was just ignore the behavior and do what we could to end the game as quickly as possible.
Our friend won, but disappeared immediately thereafter. We thought it odd but said our goodnights to her husband and went on our merry way.
The next morning our friend posted a full dictionary page of the word AX and its nine dictionary entries onto each of our facebook profiles. Wow.
My Southern California, hip and trendy, easy going friend is just as uptight as my own east coast self. Who woulda thunk it?
Here's what I've learned: 1) Always play Scrabble following the game rules without exception, and 2) always use a dictionary!
I don't mean an online game. I mean a real, sit down with the board and people, game.
The last game I played was about two weeks ago while visiting west coast friends and it seemed harmless enough. "Yes, sure, why not?" I said. There were four of us.
I should have known I was headed for trouble when one of my friends started off by saying that she likes to modify the rules to allow the use of proper nouns. We all agreed since it seemed like a harmless change.
I suggested we get the dictionary. How do you play Scrabble (check challenges, etc) without a dictionary? Our friends didn't own a dictionary but decided that between the four of us we could determine a word's fair play. Sounded like trouble, but what the heck, I agreed to play what I perceived to be a casual, fun, anything goes game of Scrabble.
What was I thinking?
Suddenly the one rule change had sub rules. (OJ could not be used as a proper name since 'everyone knows it really stands for orange juice' or at the very most Orenthal James which still makes it an abbreviation and abbreviations aren't allowed) "Seriously?" I asked. I defended my position by saying no one would argue Tony wasn't a proper name even though it was a nickname for Anthony, so why didn't OJ count as a nickname for Orenthal James? And suddenly the anything goes crowd turned into cut throat competitors. I sheepishly retreated my O and J back onto my wooden rack. (I think I would have been allowed to use OJ if it weren't for the fact that in using OJ I was also able to make another word in another direction that would have granted me about 30 odd points for the play. I think that was the real issue.)
The next controversial word came about when the most vocal critic of OJ spelled out 'AX.' I recalled the last game of Scrabble that I had played (again with people who did not own a dictionary) and I had spelled AX only to be shot down because I was told AX had an e at the end. (And damnit I should have checked the spelling after that last game but I hadn't.) So undoubtedly to bust the chops of my OJ nemesis, I recalled that memory and claimed, "Ax ends with an e." She correctly claimed it could be spelled either way like blonde and blond and I honestly suspected she was right and I let it go. But she did not like being challenged and refused to use the word ax because she didn't want controversy and she spelled another word.
But the claws came out and for the rest of the game insults were disguised as jokes. When the rest of us took longer than 10 seconds to spell a word she and her husband hummed the theme music for final Jeopardy which precluded us being able to concentrate. We looked at each other and realized that all we could do was just ignore the behavior and do what we could to end the game as quickly as possible.
Our friend won, but disappeared immediately thereafter. We thought it odd but said our goodnights to her husband and went on our merry way.
The next morning our friend posted a full dictionary page of the word AX and its nine dictionary entries onto each of our facebook profiles. Wow.
My Southern California, hip and trendy, easy going friend is just as uptight as my own east coast self. Who woulda thunk it?
Here's what I've learned: 1) Always play Scrabble following the game rules without exception, and 2) always use a dictionary!
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