That was then...9/11 revisited

We were sitting in the main conference room at work getting ready to start the day as we usually did - reading the previous 24 hours worth of crisis calls. Everyone was gathering slowly, making sure we all had coffee, something to take notes on, getting to our usual chairs. "Good morning", "How ya doing?", "Another beautiful September day out there!"

We were about 15 minutes into reading the calls when Gina, the office admin, opened the door and stuck her head in and said, "A plane just hit the World Trade Center in New York!" We discussed how that could be. "Must have been a small plane." "Pilot must have had some medical issues." "So weird!" And then we continued reading the calls again.

A short while later, Gina returned. This time her face was pale and she had a terrible look in her eyes. "Another plane hit the other tower!" She exclaimed, "They're reporting that they're commercial airlines plane! Jets! With passengers on board!"

Stunned, we left the conference room and started gathering in small groups around our computer screens and radios, desperate for whatever news we could get. Everyone felt it. The silent fear of not knowing what exactly was happening. The sketchy information we were getting wasn't enough. People would come in to the office for their appointments and we would bombard them with questions. What have they heard and seen that we might be missing? Another report - another plane crashed into the Pentagon and another into a field somewhere. It was suddenly clear that we were under attack. But who would do this? Why?

  And then the live images started streaming on line. The towers on fire, black smoke billowing from the highest floors. People leaning out of windows trying to get someones attention or just some breathable air. Fire fighters, EMT's, police officers rushed to the scene as civilians looked up in fright. We all stopped. We waited. We yearned to know what has happening and why but there were no answers. We stayed close together. We longed to be home with our loved ones. Then, unbelievably, horribly, terribly, incredibly - the towers began to fall. We watched helplessly as New York filled with dust, rocks, papers, crumbled cement and smoke. People ran for their lives and our hears stopped as we watched them run. It seemed the world was ending.

  It was difficult to focus for the rest of the day. The city was eerily quiet when we were finally on our way home. We sat in stunned silence watching the images over and over again on TV, getting any new information we could. Slowly the whole terrifying story unfolded. We felt scared and unsafe. We lit candles for the dead and prayed for the recovery of anyone who may have survived. Survived? How could they have survived? But they must and we held onto the notion for weeks afterward. Even when the evidence was contrary we hoped beyond hope that there would be survivors. But there weren't.

This is now...

Today we were gathering in the main conference room to start the day as we always do - reading the previous 24 hours crisis calls. We had the usual good mornings and the getting of the coffee. We all went to our usual chairs. Then we realized the date and noticed how we were all there, as we were then, and how that day impacted our lives forever.

We will never forget the events of September 11, 2001. We will always remember that feeling of helplessness and fear and the wanting to be home with our loved ones. We will have those horrific images in our minds for the rest of our lives. Time has healed and we moved on but we will never, ever forget.

What? Me? Embarrassed?

I overheard someone say "that was the most embarrassing thing ever!" and I started thinking of when I've felt truly embarrassed.

I recall one time when I was a teen. I was at a local McDonald's with my best friend Liz. We had been out shopping and goofing around and were now ravenous! This was just at the time that McDonald's introduced those character shaped cookies. The place was quite crowded and Liz was just in front of me. She ordered her food and at the last minute also ordered some of the cookies. She stepped aside to pay and I stepped up to order. So, I ordered my food and then ordered the cookies too. I nudged Liz with my elbow and in a seductive, joking tone I said, "Heh heh, I have cookies too!" It was then I realized Liz wasn't standing next to me anymore and I had actually nudged a strange man who now had a very frightened look on his face. Liz was waiting, with her food, behind me. She had seen the whole thing and was laughing her ass off! I was so embarrassed!

Another equally embarrassing moment was also brought on by me doing something completely idiotic. I was at Parkside and in a show. There were evening rehearsals and I would get there through the generosity of my best friend Scott. We were always doing such strange, goofy things that made us laugh. We made up this weird song on the way to school one night. It went like this (in a falsetto voice):
Mama...gimme a kiss, Mama....gimme a kiss, Mama....MamaMamaMamaMamaMama...MAMA!

That was it. And each time you sang it you got louder, screechier and higher! For some reason this cracked us up. So, one night on the way to school we were singing that song off and on. We got to Parkside and were headed toward the Comm-Arts Building. I was singing/screeching that song at the top of my lungs since we were the only two people around. Scott was in front of me and all of a sudden he started walking really fast. I kept dancing around and singing and screeching. When I got into the building, just inside the door, another student went past me and up the stairs. Turns out he was walking behind me the entire way from the parking lot. Also turns out that Scott knew he was there and that's why he started walking so fast. When I got inside, Scott was around the corner laughing so hard he was almost peeing himself! I was so embarrassed!! Acting a total fool catches up with me every single time.

Oh there have been other times too. Now that I think of them, almost too many to want to talk about! I'll leave you with these two and keep the rest to myself.

All about my Dad...

I've been without my dad for a long time now. He passed away in 1978. So...Father's Day tends to come and go with me and other than a quiet "thank you", I really don't think much about it anymore. But, today, as I was reading some friend's blogs and various post around the Internet, I started thinking of my Dad and some of the things I learned from him.

Things I Learned From My Dad:

1. I learned how to argue. I mean seriously argue. Argue to the point where the other guy just gives up out of shear exhaustion! My Dad was a master at this. While some may see this as a flaw I can honestly say this lesson has had it's good points as well. I was able to haggle a decent price on a new car all by myself. I've been able to negotiate decent pay raises and additional time off with pay at work. So, even if I can make my loved ones crazy at times, I can also talk my way out of a speeding ticket...all thanks to Dad.

2. Spend a little more to get the right one. This is a lesson that was completely lost on my mother and it was the cause of many a husband/wife tiff in their marriage. My mother was/is a firm believer in paying as little as possible for anything. She "settled" for cheap products made to look "like" the more expensive, more durable counterpart and she was always upset and disappointed when the cheap crap didn't work right or broke. My Dad, on the other hand, was of the mind that, for some things, you paid for the better brand, the better product and it would reward you by lasting a lifetime. Some things he would not scrimp on - stereo equipment, steaks, television sets, phones, golf clubs, and candy. Yes, candy. My Dad always had the best candy. And he always shared it with me.

3. Take time to learn about the world. My Dad read books and encyclopedias about other countries all the time. He poured over their cultures, their traditions, their taboos, and their politics. He encouraged me to live beyond the four walls of our house, the side streets of our small city and the borders of our country. My Dad would be proud that I have travelled internationally. He would love spending time talking to and arguing with my Swedish husband. My Dad was Irish and always dreamed of seeing Ireland one day. He never got there. I intend to go there one day, just to share that with his memory.

4. In golf and Scrabble, a little white lie goes a long way. My Dad cheated. He did! He would forget to add strokes to his golf score and turn Scrabble tiles over when we weren't looking so it would look like a blank. He would vehemently deny doing this when caught but he would try it again and again!

5. My Dad could sing. My Dad would walk around the house once in a while singing songs that he made up. He had a beautiful Irish tenor voice and he only sang for us.

6. Every time my Mom told my Dad she was pregnant he would respond in the same way. He would take my mother in his arms and hug her tight and say, "Isn't that the best news you ever heard?" I love thinking of that moment. Of course, I've never witnessed it since I'm the baby of the family but just the thought of them in that embrace makes me smile.

7. My Dad worked every day of his life until he retired. At first, he was a day laborer working for a gardener in Illinois. Then he was a Union man, working at J. I. Case in Racine, WI. Then he owned and operated his own bar and restaurant. He worked 7 days a week until he retired in the '70s. Then he made every free day count!

8. My Dad's chili can beat up your Dad's chili. When my Dad retired he became the chief cook and bottle washer at our house. He spent weeks, months, years perfecting his chili recipe which, I can say with some certainty, was the hottest, spiciest, tastiest chili ever. I have never been able to duplicate his chili in spite of having a hand written recipe. I think the stinker left something out on purpose!

9. No matter how long you live, life is too short. I was going to try to have an even 10 things my Dad taught me but I'm cutting it off short for a reason. My Dad died at the age of 78 from complications from chemotherapy used to treat his leukemia. 78 seems like a good long life but, you know what? It wasn't. I wanted more time with my Dad. Even though I was well prepared for his inevitable death, I feel gypped. I feel like he was stolen from me. I"m sure that my Dad had many more lessons to teach me and I will never have them. He was gone too soon in spite of his age. That's why this list ends. Just like my Dad did.

I hope that you've all taken time to think about your Dads. If they're still here...give him a hug and thank him. Spend time with him. If he's gone, thank him anyway. Just like I did now. My Dad's name was Vivian.... most called him Kelly....some called him Sonny (don't ask...it's a weird family thing). Whatever he went by I know you all would have liked him. And he might have taught you a couple of things too!

A life...

Yesterday, I found out rather late that someone I used to work with passed away. She was a case manager whom I supervised for almost 7 years. She was 73 years old. She was a character, lemme tell ya. She could be the most frustrating person on the face of the planet. She often thought people were out to get her in some way. She could be cantankerous and suspicious and angry when she wanted to be. But she could also be endearing and funny and was one of the hardest working people I have ever known.

She worked until she was 72 and then had a heart attack while she was on the job. She never really fully recovered from that. Her health failed and it failed quickly. She often talked about moving to Vegas to be near her son or taking a trip to Arizona with her husband. She talked about spending time with her daughters and grand kids. She talked about having time to shop for her beloved Southwest themed collectibles. She talked about it but never had the change to do it.

I heard she passed about a half hour before her funeral service was to take place so I was unable to attend. That's something I will always regret because, though she might not have believed it, she was one of my favorite people on the planet. That's why today I am filled with thoughts of what exactly constitutes a life well spent. Surely in her lifetime, she touched thousands of people - those she case managed and those who loved them. But she never took a moment to take care of herself so those closest to her, her family and friends, have missed out on her golden years and what might have been a grand retirement.

I'm all for devoting oneself to a job well done but I think it's extremely important to have some balance. Work is work and it will almost always be there. It will always be there in my line of work. Unfortunately, in social work there will always be the poor, the needy, the mentally ill and the disabled. Regardless, taking time to breathe and live outside of a job is just as important as the job itself.

So, here's to Ruth. She was a great lady! I just wish her life could have been filled with a little more time to stop and smell the roses.

Michael Jackson...

Sometime in the 80's some friends and I, all equally broke and struggling to make ends meet, pooled together what little money we had and bought tickets to see Michael Jackson perform at the Rosemont Horizon. Our lack of funds meant our seats were some of the worst in the arena. We were at least three tiers up and far to the left of the stage.

As we waited for the show to start, we noticed that the demographics of the audience was quite remarkable in that it seemed to break all demographic barriers. The audience was made of young and old, black and white, male and female, rich and poor. The crowd burst into spontaneous song on occasion. This was just after he had released the "Bad" album so we sang songs from "Off The Wall", "Thriller" and "Bad". We sounded like crap but the camaraderie in the group was infectious. There were literally thousands of people sporting the red leather "Beat It" jacket and even grannies were stylin' the single white sequined glove.

Finally, the show started. There was some opening act and, for the life of me, I can't remember who it was or what they did. It was inconsequential. We were there to see Michael so they could have lit the place on fire and we wouldn't have noticed unless he rushed out to put it out! When Michael Jackson hit the stage the massive audience went completely ballistic. I confess, I was right there with them. He sang and dance hit after hit. His stage moved and grew and expanded and folded and it was surrounded by enormous screens so our crappy seats became far less crappy. At one point, he ascended on a crane and was almost within touching distance of us. He manhandled that stage. He owned it. He took us all in and through this two hour journey with him. He was larger than life and seemed ten feet tall up there.

It was over before we knew it and we were awestruck, spent and exhausted. It was one of the best concerts I've ever attended in my life.

As I sit here watching the news of his death, the speculation of the cause and the anticipation of what is likely to be the biggest media circus ever, I feel sad for this man/child who never grew up, never had a childhood, who only did what he was told and did it better than anyone had ever done it before. Whether you like him/hate him/vilify him/revere him - you cannot deny that Michael Jackson had a profound impact on pop music. He changed the way we listen and move and see it. He may not have ushered in the age of video but he took the medium and became it's premiere artist.

And for me, because of that one glorious, mind blowing night at the Rosemont, I'll miss him.

Rest in Peace, Michael.

Catching up...

I found an old theatre buddy on facebook the other day. He is the brother of the guy who, along with his wife at the time, created igLoo, the theatrical group in Chicago. That was a few years ago now...

I had moved to Chicago with my best friend, Scott. Both of us just newly graduated from Parkside and eager to test our wings. We got jobs easily and I set about auditioning for shows. I was keen to act. We had been in our little Wrigleyville apartment about a year when my friend from high school, Maria Tirabassi, showed up at our door with her (then) new husband, Christopher Peditto. Chicago, you see, at that time, was a hotbed of store front theatres. People were rushing there on the heels of the success of places like Steppenwolf and St. Nicholas. Playwrights like David Mamet were locals and actors like Gary Sinise and John Malkovich were just catching on. Maria and Chris had a dream, if not a plan.

I clearly recall driving around Chi looking at various neighborhoods just to see which one we might grace with our talented presence. We stuck close to Wrigley in the end.

igLoo (and that is not a typo) was a quirky, eclectic group of too young but talented actors, writers and directors that came together in a burned out paint factory and made great theatre. We took literature that was in the public domain (no money for royalties) and adapted it for the stage. We did the sets, the costumes, the music, the programs, the intermission refreshments...you name it. We made only enough money to pay the rent. And, what do you know? We caught on. Chicago Reader called us the "avant of the garde" and often raved about our shows. It was funny that what they press took for creative "genius" was sometimes just necessity. I can remember using Blue Kool Aid for tea in one show because we had no tea. The review raved about the "significance" of the blue tea when, in fact, it had no significance at all. It was just there when we needed it.

igLoo didn't last. Like all good things it came apart eventually. The more press we would get the bigger egos would become and, finally, what once held us together was eating us alive. We all went our separate ways. But, having found some of my old buds now, I know that it was a special time for all of us. It was probably one of our most creative times but also a time when we all did a lot of growing up.

I'm looking forward to catching up with more of my igLoo friends and, since some of them are still in Chi, maybe even going to see them too.