Learn The Things I Forgot To Remember...

I recently started a job in a field that’s new to me.  What I’m finding is that this new, never-been-done-before occupation has tapped into many previous positions from long ago.  

With each new day, there is a task that sends me flying through time - back to other roles I’ve played.  In the here and now, I’m having to learn all the things I forgot to remember from those long-ago situations.

Customer service should come naturally, but I’ve had to tap into those “rise to greet and welcome” instincts that have long been tucked away.  On day two, I was cleaning (while comparing the best supplies for the job), moving furniture and setting up space. This flashed me back to the good old days in the hotel business.

On day three, I was in the communications room, tracing cables to identify proper connections.  This took me to the pre-cellphone, pre-internet days of early 90s hotel computer installation when I had no choice but to figure it out via payphone in whatever small town was hosting me for the moment.  Next, came signage and advertising, which took me forward to the early 2000s and my advertising days. Now, I’m into the present, flexing my PR and community relations muscles.

I can’t know what tomorrow will bring but I know I’m where I’m supposed to be for the moment.  Every day allows me to be back in the company of other people - something my recent work-from-home experience was sorely missing.

Where this will all lead is a mystery but, in the here and now of it, I’m enjoying the walk down Career Memory Lane while I learn the things I forgot to remember.

Cheap Thrills...

Some people want fine wines and fancy gourmet meals.  No thanks. I mean, I DO appreciate those things and will enjoy them when offered, but those are never the things I seek for myself.

Give me the low-brow pleasures that abound in this world.  What’s better than a cheesy parking lot carnival? Ride operators who look like they’ve lived hard.  Midway barkers with a song or a wolf whistle, depending on the mark. Cheap thrills! OK, not really cheap, based on the empty wallet I carry out, but I always leave with a smile, a belly full of corndogs and funnel cake, and a little asphalt grunge on me.  That’s a perfect evening.

My favorite vacation spot is known as the “Redneck Riviera”  I’ll take that over the actual Riviera any day. I love buffets, cheap beer, jeans, t-shirts, flip flops and five dollar canvas sneakers.  Turn me loose in a bakery discount store and serve me bologna sandwiches, and I’m a happy girl. A trip to a thrift store is all the retail therapy I need or want.

I’ve been to the opera, ballet, and Broadway theater and those are all great things.  I enjoy them. But I will always prefer a dive bar and a band of musicians within a few feet of me and my bottle of beer.

I guess that’s the point of it.  All of these things that I prefer are up close and personal.  I’m not watching from afar or waiting to be served, I’m in the middle of it while activity swirls around me.  I’m actively participating in my cheap thrills rather than watching from a separated distance..

When reflecting on my own life, it seems to me that all of my best moments  were experienced smack in the middle of the action and not from the box seats.  The best meals came with great company, not linen napkins. The best travels were about wrong turns, not first class seats.  So, I’ll take more of that please. Bring on the cheap thrills!

Human First...

When people ask me to identify myself, I generally start with my name.  Then I might add that I am a mother, a wife, a daughter, a sister, friend, etc.  I may throw in what I do for a living if it applies, or say where I live – or even where I have formerly lived.  That’s about all it takes, I think, to describe myself to a stranger.  If we want to get deeper, maybe I’ll elaborate with some of my favorite things – music I like, most loved foods, things I like to do that give a deeper look at who I am.

 

I am Terri.  I’m married to a great guy, have two great kids – girls – I come from a big, tight-knit family.  I love the beach, blues, bluegrass, rock and roll, and tacos, soup, and pot roast.  I read a lot of true crime, I talk to strangers, and I prefer to shop at thrift stores.  I think I am smart, funny, and kind to everyone who crosses my path.

 

You know what I never say?  “Hi, I’m Terri.  I’m an American.”  Because that has nothing to do with who I am.  Don’t get me wrong – I recognize my privilege.  I am grateful for my good fortune to be born here.  By some geographical jackpot, I landed here, where I am safe and free.  I got lucky and I don’t take that for granted.  I do my part to be a responsible citizen.  I vote, I pay taxes, I serve on jury duty when called.  Those are small prices to pay for being here. 

 

It’s also rare that I speak out to publicize my political stance.  I try to let my actions speak for me and lead by example in all that I do.  I always try to live my life in the middle of the road.  I don’t often feel the need to take sides because I can usually find merit in another point of view.  I may not always agree, but I always try to understand how a person comes to their opinion and consider what led them to that position.

 

Having said all that, there are times when the only right thing to do is to speak up.  When another’s actions are hurtful, they must be questioned.  Does that person doing the hurtful thing really understand what they’re doing?  Can they see beyond the immediate action and their desired outcome to fully register the ripple effects?  I want to believe that most people are good and that sometimes a person can get caught up in a destructive wave without considering the true fallout.

 

Unfortunately, while I have faith in humanity as a whole, there are still monsters in the mix.   Some of them happen to, unfortunately, be in positions of power that can bring forth terrible actions that serve only to feed voracious appetites for wealth, position, and ego.  Nothing good comes from those actions and if I choose to quietly ignore them, I am allowing them to continue to flourish.

 

The older I get, the less I take my American rights for granted.  As my life experiences have expanded my world view, my awareness of these luxuries has grown.  I didn’t have to do anything to earn them.  Meanwhile, people I love have made enormous sacrifices just to get here.  I know their stories – beginning in Africa, Panama, Cuba, Columbia, and so on - but I can’t really fathom what it takes for a mother to usher her children away from home in the middle of the night to flee dangers at the hands of horrible dictators who valued wealth and power more than human life.

 

This is where we are at the moment.  Right here in my homeland.  A cruel and dangerous dictator is trying to wield more power than should be available and those who are currently in a position to do something about it are afraid to speak up because it might cause them to lose some of their own wealth and power.

 

I have to assume that this is what allowed history’s monsters to gain strength and we were not connected in the way we are now.  News of despicable acts was slow to travel and by the time the world was aware, the damage was done and those who looked on did so either out of fear or out of their own greed.  That’s not the case today.  News travels fast.  Cameras are everywhere.  People are reporting and questioning.  The whole world is watching.  Human children, human mothers, human BEINGS are being hurt by the acts of misguided followers of monsters in power.

 

Here’s what I know:  Darkness cannot survive in the light.  Good is stronger than evil.  Behavior is contagious. 

 

I have great privilege as an American and that brings responsibilities.  I have freedoms that others only dream of and I know that.  As a HUMAN, I have responsibilities, too.  We are meant to care for one another.  We are meant to respect one another.  We are meant to come together to stand against danger.  It’s wired into our most basic instincts and I will not ignore that.

 

I am Terri.  I live in America, but most importantly, I live in love.  To my brothers and sisters all over the world, I SEE you.  I love you.  I will fight for you with the weapons I have – Voice, Vote, Kindness, and a Hand to hold.  That is my human responsibility.

 

I am Terri.  I’m married to a great guy, have two great kids – girls – I come from a big, tight-knit family.  I’m Human first.  American last. 

Yeah, OK, Why Not?...

I’ve often said that I’m not very interesting but that I’ve had some interesting experiences.  I’m interesting by proxy.

I’m really not sure how I get into some of these “interesting” situations other than my inability to say No when asked.  “Why not?” comes out of my mouth more frequently than “No, thanks.”  I have no regrets thus far so I must be doing something right.

I was reminded yesterday of one of these things that I agreed to without knowing what I was in for.  In hindsight, the whole idea was crazy and never should have worked.  But it did.  Beautifully.  And I’m so glad I jumped in.

Back in late 1999 or early 2000, I met a woman named Ronda.  She was fairly new to town and we hit it off right away because we had the same love for Blues music.  While I was always a fan clapping enthusiastically from my seat in the audience, Ronda was more outgoing and had a knack for getting closer to those performers we admired and they welcomed her into their world.

One day, she told me about her idea to do a photo shoot featuring the huge pool of Blues musicians in Georgia.  We both knew and loved the 1958 Great Day In Harlem photo and she envisioned something similar so I said “Yeah, ok, why not? Let’s do it!” From that moment, things happened quickly and I’m still not really sure HOW we even got started.  Ronda’s vision was to do the shoot at the “Cool Spot” in Piedmont Park, so she started there.  We stared at a calendar, trying to figure out the best time to do such a thing and decided that October 1, 2000 would be the day.

The girl doesn’t mess around!  Using the contacts she made in local blues clubs, she recruited a photographer who would capture the moment.  They scouted the location and planned the setup and positioning and got the required permits. I wrote press releases and we got the word out about the project.  We begged local businesses for sponsorship dollars, called friends for their support, and just generally tried to keep the excitement going.

People were talking.  Many were skeptical that even if we could pull this off, our intentions were probably not honorable and we were just looking to take advantage of musicians.  Fortunately, for every one naysayer, there were a dozen who were behind us.  When there was doubt, one old blues legend or another would tell us to keep going.  So we did.

When that beautiful sunny day arrived, we still had no idea what we were in for, but we were certain that we were going to give it our all.  With the help of volunteers (including my mom and sister who have never said No to me), we set up tables and grills and laid out so much donated food.  We organized a check in system with release forms and “mugshot” snapshots for identification.  What I saw from my side of the clipboard was remarkable!  From this crazy idea, magic happened.

We had no idea how many to expect but they just kept coming!  From the 9 year old grand-niece of Otis Redding, to 91 year old Frank Edwards, they showed up for what became a Blues family reunion of 184 Georgia musicians.  Local news cameras were there to film the hugs, stories, songs, and memories being made.

We got the photo and it was better that we could have imagined.  It was presented in poster size to the Georgia Music Hall of Fame.  Printed posters were sold at cost and can still be found in blues venues all over town.  Mine is still on my wall, and many people I know have one somewhere in their home.  18 years later, people still talk about that day.  It truly was extraordinary.

 

That was only one of many adventures Ronda suggested to me and I said “Yeah, OK, why not?” and I’ve never regretted any of them.  I’ve never gotten any closer to saying No. 

I don’t see why I should rush to add that to my vocabulary when Yeah, OK, why not?” has taken me to so many beautiful places.

 

When Worlds Collide...

I’ve said many times – and I think I learned this from my sister Sue, actually – that I like to keep all the areas of my life in separate zones.  I’ve always lived that way.  My friends come from entirely different groups and they rarely cross paths.  It’s been easy for me to float from one group to the next and I like it that way.

 

I’m finding that harder and harder to do lately and it’s kind of unsettling.  My worlds are beginning to collide!

Perhaps it used to be easy because I moved so much in my younger years.  When I leave an area, I tend to leave only footprints and take only memories.  That’s made it easy to keep on trucking down the highway.  I’m seeing that my current reality is much different.  I’ve been in metro Atlanta since 1990 – nearly 30 years!  That’s a lot of human interaction and it’s getting much harder to keep everyone organized.

Part of this struggle is that Atlanta is the biggest small town I’ve ever experienced.  No matter where I go or what I do, I meet someone who knows someone I know.  Some of this is due to the fact that I’ve had more than a half dozen careers in my time here.  Each position opens the door to a whole different group of associates than the last.  Add in the clubs and organizations, and things really begin to intertwine.

My husband is well-known and regarded in his business (music) so sometimes just my last name is enough to kick down the walls I try to maintain.  If someone doesn’t already know me, they know my husband.  Now, in this time of instant connections through social media, there’s no safe place to retreat!

None of this is bad, really.  I preach the need for human connections all the time and I stand by that.  We’re meant to all work together and be together in this world.  I’m all for that.  I just haven’t been able to make peace with the fact that I have fewer places to hide these days.

I recently started a new position in a place that taps into ALL of my former experience.  That’s a great thing but I’ve had to draw lines in the sand about my accessibility.  For example, my personal phone and email will not be available for business.  That said, my personal social media world is filling up with people from my 9 to 5 world and that’s just an odd feeling.  It’s fine.  It’s just not the way I’ve always rolled.

Perhaps this just seems more obvious because all of my boxes are spilling out and it feels messy.  Really, it’s just become more of a pot pourri than a mess but that doesn’t make looking at the box contents all jumbled together in the middle of my world easy.

I guess I just have to condition myself to accept that with age and time spent in one place, the collision is natural.  Worlds collide.  I’ll try to embrace it but I’m still going to retreat to my nook in the corner at the end of the day.

The People Who Live In My Head: A Reason, a Season, or a Lifetime...

The People Who Live In My Head: A Reason, a Season, or a Lifetime...: Thirteen is a rough time for a kid.   It always has been, but in today’s tech age, I think it’s even harder.   There’s never a break from ...

A Reason, a Season, or a Lifetime...

Thirteen is a rough time for a kid.  It always has been, but in today’s tech age, I think it’s even harder.  There’s never a break from the constant “communication” that is not actually communication at all.  Emojis and a steady stream of words doesn’t actually amount to informative dialogue that delivers real messages. 

Talk doesn’t exist anymore.  There are no long drawn out phone conversations.  There’s no conversation at all, really.  When two or more young folks are gathered, heads are bowed to cell phone screens and the only talk is to quote a meme or to say “Look at this!”  The closest thing there is to chatting is done online in private group messaging.  That’s where things get ugly.

I realize that I’m saying this online and that I communicate with my dearest friends via social media, so these thoughts could sound hypocritical to the kids about whom I’m writing.  There is a difference, however.  The difference is that I’m a grown up (sort of) and I am capable of having real conversations live and in person.  I know how to share facts, I know how to enjoy humor, I have – and use – manners.  I can’t say the same for these kids who are still learning who they are.

I’ve done everything I can to teach my kids how to properly interact with people.  They can talk to me about whatever’s on their minds and I talk to them.  I’ve brought them into my grown up world, where they can and do make conversation with all sorts of people about all sorts of things.  I’m proud of them for doing so.  They’re (mostly) not precocious.  They’re (mostly) polite.  They interact and they communicate.

My daughter’s pack of 13 year old friends hasn’t learned these skills and that is where it all falls apart.  My daughter doesn’t believe me when I say that I truly never had any drama in middle school.  It happened, of course, and I saw it in certain groups but I was either oblivious to it in my own pack of friends or it just never touched me.  I’d like to believe that’s because I have meticulous friend-picking skills.  It’s probably more that I’ve always been able to walk away before things got weird.  That’s a skill that I hope my girls will also acquire.

When issues arise in my daughter’s circle, I tell her not to sweat it.  That’s my job.  She rolls her eyes, of course, because that’s her job.  That doesn’t stop me and I keep talking, telling her to think about the people around her and think about what they bring to her life and what she brings to theirs.  More eye rolling ensues, and I pull out the old adage:  People come in to your life for a Reason, a Season, or a Lifetime.

I know that sounds trite to a 13 year old who is so sure that this week’s BFF will always be there, but it’s true.  What is, unfortunately, also true is the fact that it’s impossible to know in the moment which friend fits which label.  Only time and experience can answer that and, if we’re paying attention, we can look back and understand which people in our past and present fit which labels.

If someone had said these things to my 13 year old self there’s no way I would have listened or avoided eye rolls.  Actually, I’m sure my mother must have said them to me, but I gave her the “OK, whatever brush-off”.  I’m sorry, Mom.  You were right, as always!

Hindsight is always so clear, isn’t it?  I can now flash back to those people of my past and understand the roles they played.  The ones who were there and gone – sometimes leaving a scar – were there for a Reason.  I learned something and have carried those lessons through the rest of my life.  Then there were the Season players.  They fit a particular time in my life.  We experienced things together, learned together, had fun together, and then moved on down our own chosen paths.  I have fond memories and am grateful for the Reasons and the Seasons.

The ones that sneak up on you…the ones who are usually most unexpected…are the Lifetime players.  They come out of nowhere, sometimes, and their Reason is not always clear but I’m happy I have them!  These are the folks that sneak in the side door.  The ones who stumbled in to the party and end up being the ones with the best dip recipes, the strongest shoulders, the softest hearts, and the funniest jokes at either the most or least appropriate times, depending on the need.

Who ever would have guessed when a goofy long haired dude walked in to my job at Weiner World for a cup of root beer that we’d still be friends more than 30 years later?  There have been weddings, babies, funerals, and beyond since then, but that guy still likes root beer and I still make fun of him for his goofy friends.  When I walked in to a new job in a new city, there was no reason to think a connection was made with the boss and his family, but they are still in my life and in my heart.  When I was six years old in Baltimore, and my brother’s hippie friend helped me with my homework, who ever would have guessed that many years and several states later, it would be important to have him at my wedding?  These are just a few of the Lifetime representatives in my life.  Some make cameo appearances and fade back in to the shadows.  Some are always present.

What I want my daughter to understand is that ALL of these people are important.  I want her to live in the moment and have fun.  There’s no reason to figure out the Reasons, Seasons or Lifetimes in the here and now.  I don’t even think that’s possible but I hope that while she’s there in the moments, she’s storing data.  The day will come when those memories and lessons resurface and, hopefully, it will all make sense and he life will be richer for it.

Meanwhile, of course, I hope she’s able to quickly identify the jerks, the weasels, and the soul suckers and cast them out quickly.  They fall under Reasons.  They don’t get a long term pass.