Here's One Theory

Sort of Like Mastercard

Last night I helped with our junior high's band concert.  Beginning band, Concert band, Jazz band, Percussion ensemble, Symphonic band.  Yep, we had it all.  Including  a visit from the paramedics and fire fighters.

As the Beginning Band finished up their section and the concert band was prepping to go on, a little grandma was exiting the building and lost her balance somewhere on the exterior stairs to the parking lot and fell, hitting her head.  There was blood, to be sure.  And a handful of very scared grand kids.  One granddaughter was due to go on stage with the concert band.

As I was in charge of back stage crowd-control, I saw the emergency lights flashing and realized what had happened.  I bolted out to see what could be done to help--and what had been done to help--and then tried to help divert the students to where they needed to be and to help the EMTs do their work without extra "help" from the families and students who were coming and going.

The granddaughter was softly crying, worrying for her grandma.  I told her what I knew--which was minimal--and that the EMTs were taking good care of her grandma and how lucky her grandma was to have a granddaughter who not only loves her so much, but that plays in the band and I asked if her grandma just loved to hear her play...as a diversionary tactic, of course.

That little question seemed to do the trick.  Though this sweet girl was at the edge of tears the rest of hte evening, I promised her I would go check with the assistant principal about what the emergency personnel thought of the prognosis for her grandma and let her know the minute she was off stage.  Then I gave her a tiny pep-talk about go out there and play like grandma would like to hear.  She did, and I did what I told her I would do.

Grandma was conscious and alert when they put her in the ambulance.  And the AP said they seemed to indicate that she would be OK, though quite sore, once they bandaged her head and made sure she wasn't dealing with broken bones.

This morning, I had a message on facebook from a past PTA president with whom I have worked.  The grandma was her mother in law, and the granddaughter was her daughter.  She just thanked me for comforting her daughter after grandma's fall.

It is just a good feeling knowing that you do the right thing--comforting a distracted and worried young woman.  But then there is a sense of relief and deeper sense of gratitude for doing the right thing when you discover you there is more connection that you imagined.  And that person is grateful you did the right thing too.

Integrity...it is priceless.

Oh--That Clears It Up

In case anyone wasn't clear what I do every day.  Here is the definition:

Today is Reality Town for the 8th graders at our Junior High.  So that is where I'll be all day.  But it is a terrific program, and my favorite day to help out at the school.  But I'm a little tired just thinking about it.

Taking the Plunge

I am going to do it today.  Finally.  I've put up quite the fight, over the past couple of decades, but I've lost the will to fight anymore.

I'm buying a new coat.

I bought my favorite, unwilling-to-let-it-go parka when I came to BYU, as a freshman who had never had a high country winter before.  It served me well.  It has served me well, for about 25 years. 

But this morning when I zipped it on to go walking, the zipper broke.  And not in a way that I can repair (again).  I have made many repairs, fixes, mending over the years to this poor old coat.  But I haven't been able to find another I liked so much as I love this one.

I've said it before, and I'll surely say it again:  They just don't make things they way they used to.

I loved my old coat for the size, shape and placement of the pockets.  Yeah, sure, it has fuchsia/teal plaid lining that is seriously ugly.  Sure, the outer-skin of the coat is a cotton sheath with more repair stitches that fabric left.  And sure, the front button have been replaced and repaired over and over again.  You can't find its equal to replace it.

Until now.  Now I have to find something.  Without a functional zipper, this coat isn't really doing its job.  And consequently, I have to find another one.  And it still probably won't be as great as the only one, especially about hte pockets, but I have to face reality.

Plus, it is only 25 degrees, as I write this.  And that is too cold to pull on the white denim jacket that is only 10 years old. Dangit.

Soapbox + Plug

Last night I got tickets to opening night of Seussical, the Musical, as performed by our high school productions class.  It was delightful.  The set was bright and cheerful, the kids were energetic and the message was uplifting and so pleasant.

May I suggest, we could all do a little better in support the arts locally--at our high schools, junior highs and elementaries.  Arts programs are becoming more and more rare in public education, sadly, and when a product opens, we really ought to support it. 

That said, I get the chance to also help out at the junior high band concert on Thursday.  Last week was the orchestra, and in a couple more week we will have our choir concerts.  Here is another way to support public school art programs.

It is easy if your own kids are involved in the show.  But what if your neighbor kids or church kids are in it?  Have you gone just to watch the local kids performing?

The $7 or so it might cost for the ticket--about what a movie ticket costs--goes a lot farther for public school arts & musical productions, in my opinion.  You'll get a nice evening, maybe seeing a show you've never seen before (as last night was me) and the performers gain additional experience with a medium they are seeing less and less of.

Grab your kids, grab your neighbors, grab your friends and go see a show.  Might I recommend Seussical?  They'll close this weekend.  Get your tickets while the gettings good.

A Much Belated Apology

Back in "the day", I remember being very, very late getting home from one of my first school dance dates.  For that, I would like to apologize to my parents, who probably sat up worrying and waiting for me.  This was in the times before cell phones, or instant messaging, or texting.  I wasn't driving yet, so they weren't even sure where we would end up.  They really had no idea how to get ahold of me except to wait until the police or a hospital called.  (They never got a call like that, at least about me, but still--I was out WAY too late that time,)

Well, payback have come for me.  This weekend was The Girl's first school dance date: Sadie Hawkins.

Here is the whole gang.

Another shot of the group.  Howdy, partners!

Here is Miss Anneka and her substitute date, Brayden.  He was a very good sport, as her "real" date had play practice Friday night when the girls were doing their "day date". So Brayden came along, as Miss Anneka was driving the group to the ice skating part of the date.

(Brayden, I understand, had been asked to the dance Saturday night  by another girl anyway...but as one of the swim team captains, he knew all the girls inolved from this group and was just helping them out. Plus, he is dang cute and super charming.  Trust me on that one.)

***

I must interject here.  I didn't grow up here and this "day date" business was news to me.  Apparently, in this local culture, asking someone to a dance date isn't enough.  You must also plan (and pay for) an activity type of date for the daytime prior to the evenings' dinner and dance event.

This particular weekend posed a problem for hte girls in this group on that point.  They are all swimmers and they had a huge county-wide high school swim meet (14 teams participated) all day Saturday.  Well, no day date could be held.  Instead, the girls opted for a "Two for One"--meaning they asked the boys to the dance, and then asked them to their "day date" for Friday night instead.  So they planned to go ice skating, but one of the Sadie's dates had final dress rehearsal fora play that opens tonight and he couldn't be there.  So a substitute date came along for the "day night" the night before the real date.

Are you confused yet?!  I know.  I was a little too.

***

The Girl and her date, Darian.

Miss Andrea with her date, McKay.

And Miss Melanie with her date, Bronson.

You say you want one more group shot?  You say you want to be Gansta-Cowboys? 

(If something like this even exists in real life, it must be a very microscopic demographic.)

The girls did their "day date" on Friday night and didn't get home until after 11:30 PM.  I couldn't keep my eyes open, so I am not sure when they got in.  The girls all came here after dropping their dates at home to look at the pictures we had taken that night and to pick up their copies of the photos discs.

Saturday night, after swimming all day, and having been up late the night before, and then going to dinner and the dance, they didn't get home until after 11:30 PM again.  And again, I was exhausted--this is the story of my life lately--so I am not sure what time they came home as I had fallen asleep.  But the point is...it was late.

And so, Mom and Dad, for any part of the similarity to my own dance/date life at her age, I am truly sorry.  You can be sure that payback had come due in my life.  So, you're welcome for that, I guess. 

Sunday Video

The Original idea:


The Parody:


I just love kids with a little too much time on their hands.