Rollercoaster typhoon

Friday night, we dropped Emily off at Alex’s house, chit-chatted a bit with his mom & dad, then said our good-byes. She’s off on her road-trip with her good friends Alex, Max and Leah. Our emotions run up and down like a rollercoaster. Annette could go from anger towards her teenager to crying over her baby in the space of a few seconds.

Saturday night we actually went out. Like, you know, out. We went to the Pageant on Delmar to see Butch Wax & the Hollywoods. Emily’s former French teacher’s long-time boyfriend is the trumpet player and he gave us a couple of tickets. Annette’s working as their real estate agent too.

Just going out as a couple was nice. After finding a couple of seats, we both had a glass of red wine and really enjoyed the show. It was the band’s 20th anniversary show so they had former members and special guests coming up throughout the night. Billy Peek came out at the end and played a few songs to remind everyone how a Rock N Roll guitar is supposed to sound. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard someone use a wah-wah pedal effectively. Billy Peek and the keyboardist from Butch Wax were good friends with Johnny Johnson and they all got together for a tribute. Billy did Johnny B Goode and dedicated it to Johnny Johnson.

Many emotions throughout the evening. There were folks there of all ages; lots of kids too. As I watched a guy carrying his little girl down to the dance floor, I spontaneously started to cry. I remember as if it were yesterday when my little girl would ask me to carry her from the car and up the steps to our apartment on Dover. I would tell her, “Em, as long as I can lift you, I’ll carry you up these steps.” Soon I was warning her that one day, I would no longer do that. How I’ll miss that little girl.

It’s seems I’ve been warning her throughout her life of the day when I wouldn’t be the one carrying her. I’ve looked at it like a job; I must prepare her for life. All I’ve really wanted was to make her better than me. I believe I’ve done that. Annette and I are mysteriously complimentary personalities with each shoring up the other’s weaknesses, and I think Emily will benefit from that too. There are some areas that we’re both weak in, and if you’d like to hear two grown-ups bellyache, you should hear us fretting over the terrible things we’ve done to our daughter.

Today, she turns 18. Out of state as she’s been so many times before. With her birthday in summer, it isn’t uncommon for her to spend it away from home. She’s quite well traveled thanks to her extended family. Lot’s of time in Colorado, once to Quebec, once to the east coast. Once to the Ozarks with her second family, the Porchs.

Just got off the phone with Emily; they made it safe to Woodland Park. I’m very happy she’s with Jennifer tonight. I know she feels very comfortable out there and if she can’t be with us tonight, on this very special night, I’m very glad she’s with friends that she loves and family that love her dearly.

For the record, Em, your mother and father love you very much and nothing could ever lessen that love. Happy Birthday big girl!

We really mean it this time

OK, now we’re really moved out of Dover Place. It’s a big event. We’re really moved into our new place now. Of course, there’s a new pile of boxes to deal with too. Our entire 2nd bedroom is filled with boxes of stuff that we didn’t take the first time. Stuff we could probably live without. But, one of the boxes contains journals of mine that date back many years. Well back into my childhood. Back when my mind was sharp. After we get things situated here, I think I’ll post some of them on the blog. I was reading through a bit of it the other night before we packed it up, and I was struck with the fact that everything was, of course, written long-hand in ink. Not unusual at all for that time, but strange now to look back on. I am also struck with how, even before converting to Christianity, I was interested in the spiritual side of existence. I wrote about it all the time, using ideas and concepts that are common place for me now, but then, I had no vernacular to use.

I guess it comes down to this: I always assumed that there was a spiritual side of this existence. And, since my early Christian learning did not supply me with answers (methods, vernacular), I never thought orthodox Christian teachings had any value. I had to come about it the long way ’round. More on that some other time. And, aside from just learning about it, I’ve learned that I really enjoy talking and writing about it. I love to debate, argue and lecture any chance I get. That’s why I enjoy teaching adult Sunday School on Sunday morning and that’s why I’m going to go bed now. Goodnight.

Hurricane Emily

Hurricane Emily struck the Caribbean in 1987; the year Emily Hudson was born. Hurricane Emily is back in 2005, the year Emily Hudson turns 18. You say it sounds like a lot of supernatural baloney? Supernatural…perhaps. Baloney…perhaps not.

I’d say Emily Hudson is like a tropical storm just now. Just warming up. When she gets out into the ocean, she’ll gain form and force. Will she be a catagory 1? 2? 5? We shall see.

A couple of quick thoughts

Well, it’s after 5 and I’m getting ready to leave work. I just thought I’d throw a quick entry out here to make myself feel better. I’ve been wrestling problems with a big printer for a while now, over a month, and no one seems to know how to fix it. I think I’ve learned enough to go into the printer repair/maintenance business if I feel like it.

Like many other St. Louisans, I think the Baseball All-Star game should not be used to determine home-field advantage in the World Series. That’s the big-time, and any competitive edge should be earned “on the “field,” as Tony LaRussa says; meaning by the teams that are actually in the World Series. I expect the Cardinals to play in the Worlds Series this year, so I’m understandably disappointed not to have a chance for home-field advantage.

Catching up

Well, a lot of catching up to do…The move onto Center Ct. is done, mostly. We’ve still got some junk back on Dover to move. Just a lot of little stuff, though. As you may understand, there’s been a lot going on with the move coupled with getting Emily ready for college. But, I think it’s all in place now. I can sense that there just might be a clearing up ahead.

I hope to get back to writing more regularly, though I have not the slightest idea what to write about. Politics? Not unless I can find a way to get to some core that I believe could be enlightening. Family? Yes, I think this web-stuff is indeed a great way for family to stay in touch with one another. Jennifer is here in St. Louis now and I have to tell you, I really feel like I know her much better from reading her blog. I know what’s important to her and what’s not so important to her. I certainly don’t want to argue politics with her, though we can now easily agree on some common issues. Family visiting time is not the time to debate paritisan politics.

Well, I’m not sure what I’ll write about tomorrow, but I’ll give it a shot. Tell all your friends!

And for your intellectual stimulation: visit the new post on Trivia Night.

Dover Place

My parents moved us to Dover Place in 1968. I lived there until I left for my one and only year in college in 1977. I didn’t really ever go back. Then, in 1986, Annette and I moved back to Dover Place. I can’t quite put it into words what I feel when I look up and down the street; the canopy of sycamores and oaks, the quiet nights, the church around the corner. And the neighbors that you can’t imagine living without.

Tonight is our last night on Dover Place. We’re moving to Center Court. Oh, I know it’s not far from here. You’d laugh if you’d hear me describe it as “out of the neighborhood.” It’s not 10 minutes from here. But, it is out of my neighborhood. I don’t know if I’ll hear the bells of the Lutheran Church from Center Court. I hope so.

But, we’ll be back. That’s right; one day in a couple of years, we’ll move back to Dover Place or Bellerive Boulevard.

There’s a church in the valley by the wildwood
No lovelier spot in the dale
No place is so dear to my childhood
As the little brown church in the vale

Oh, come to the church in the vale
To the trees where the wild flowers bloom
Where the parting hymn will be chanted
We will weep by the side of the tomb

How sweet on a clear Sabbath morning
To list to the clear ringing bell
Its tones so sweetly are calling
Oh come to the church in the vale

From the church in the valley by the wildwood
When day fades away into night
I would fain from this spot of my childhood
Wing my way to the mansions of light

Come to the church by the wildwood
Oh, come to the church in the vale