I am writing this while sitting in a moving vehicle just outside of Beaver, Utah. Isn't the modern age crazy? So you may be wondering why I am just outside of Beaver,Utah. Well, Jeanette and I are on a little bit of a road trip.
Since moving to L.A. we have been driving David's truck. The truck has served us well but it was time to move on. I am not exaggerating when I say that it is the most beat up and dirtiest vehicle in the entire state of California. It was already a bit worse for wear when we first got to L.A. but it has only gone downhill from there. David got his official "welcome to L.A." salute by getting rear-ended a few months ago. The body damage was bad enough to write off our truck but it was still drive-able. Did you know that you can wait for a year to make an insurance claim and continue driving the vehicle? Well you can!
Since then I had a bit of a run-in with a parked truck made of solid steel resulting in a wee bit of a scratch. The truck has also started backfiring and I'm a bit scared of getting stranded on the side of the freeway with my kids in the back. So, it's time for something new, don't you think? I'm all for being frugal but come on now. I recently went to Beverly Hills for a choir rehearsal and someone asked me if I saw the Beverly Hillbillies to which I replied "I WAS the Beverly Hillbillies!".
Long story short, my sister sold us her old Rav 4 which Asha lovingly christened Amelia Bedelia. It's the perfect vehicle for us. Unfortunately my parents' neighbours' teenage son backed into poor Amelia and destroyed the driver's door. This is one of those occasions when I thank my lucky stars that David is not only the kind of guy who can get straight A's in grad school but also the kind of guy who can find a new door for a vehicle and put it on in record time. It was going to take the bodyshop over a week which wouldn't have left us enough time to drive to L.A. before David and the girls arrive. The only door for a Rav 4 in all of Alberta was red and there wasn't time to get it painted so poor Amelia Bedelia looks a little ridiculous. We just can't escape our hillbilly ways! Don't worry. We will get it painted once we get to L.A..
So that brings us to two girls, two dogs, and the open road. Jeanette was planning on visiting us in the new year anyway so she came along for the ride! Luckily David is also the kind of guy who can be left with his two kids while his wife Thelma-and-Louises it up with her best friend! Don't worry, we're staying away from Brad Pitt and the Grand Canyon.
Just outside of Red Deer we started to notice a peculiar sound coming from Amelia's front left wheel well. We immediately called David and tried to get him to listen to the sound through the phone. When we pulled over and looked we couldn't help but notice the mud flap hanging down rubbing against the wheel. When we told David he sarcastically said "I love that you called me before you even looked at it. ". Whatever. He loves helping us damsels in distress.
As we carried on further south we were told that there were not one, not two, but THREE fires burning in Southern Alberta. In January. What the hell? The highway had been closed because of smoke as well as winds so strong that they were pushing over semis and RVs. This led to a minor detour but we managed to cross the border without a problem. The border security guy waved us through quite quickly. It might have been that we were little nervous and became giggly and annoying. Why is it that I always get nervous at customs even though I have nothing to hide?
So the rest of the trip has included 2 provinces, 5 states, several bathroom breaks, and a covert operation to sneak Stobie into a hotel room. We have seen the Big Montana sky, the beautiful mountains of Idaho & Utah, and we're entering the Nevada desert. We'll be in Las Vegas soon. Oh dear! Hopefully we can survive Sin City!
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Friday, December 30, 2011
Hollywood may have celebrities but Onoway's got real stars
The feedback for my last two posts went a little something like this... my sister: "well I think California is good for you because your blog is much sunnier when you're there", David: "I'm a little depressed now", and my mom: "do you really hate snow that much??". So I apologize for the last posts that were somewhat depressing.
I have now been back visiting in Canada for about 2 weeks. We had a fantastic Christmas full of family and food. I have been reminded that there are many things that I love about Canada, even though it's cold (and it's not even cold right now! What's going on?!). So here are some of the things about Canada that I love, in no particular order.
Bumping into random people from your past: In the last two weeks I have bumped into the following: a friend who I haven't seen since junior high (I actually saw her at the L.A. airport and she's an actress in L.A.! Crazy!), a friend who I've known since grade 3 but have kind of lost touch with, my high school boyfriend, and a friend from my choir. These things just don't happen in L.A. (with the exception of the junior high friend but that was just wierd).
Grandparents & Aunties: Of course, we are thrilled to see our family because we love them and want to spend time with them but we also love the free babysitting that they provide. David and I took a quick trip down to Calgary while our girls stayed behind with Granny, Grumps, and Auntie Jeanettey. Calgary is not exactly an exotic location but we got to sleep in until... wait for it... 9:30am!! We then laid around and did nothing until 10:30 when we had to check out. It was heaven.
Hockey: While in Calgary we went to the Sweden vs. Switzerland World Juniors game. We got two tickets for $20 from a scalper and sat so high we were actually above the scoreboard. We thought about sneaking down to some empty seats lower down (just like old times) but decided that's OK when you're 20 but not when you're 32. The game was suprisingly fabulous! We chose teams to cheer for to make things exciting. I chose Sweden not because of their hockey prowess but because I love the Swedes with their leftie Socialist ways. Sweden turned out to be a far superior team but Switzerland somehow pulled it together and forced a shootout. Anyway, I forgot how much I love hockey. We don't watch it much anymore because we don't have TV but I have vowed to watch it more often. The game confirmed our already-held belief that hockey is soooo much better than football. Oh, and my favourite David quote from our Calgary trip was: "I think I saw one of the hockey players in our hotel lobby because he was wearing a suit and sounded half-retarded". Isn't that just so true? Where else do you see simple-minded teenagers wearing suits than at a Canadian hockey rink?
Kind people in traffic: My experience has been that, in general, people in L.A. are as nice as people in Canada. However, this is not the case in traffic. People become evil on the L.A. freeways. When we were driving back from Calgary there was a semi-truck flipped over in the ditch that had strewn sheets of OSB all over the road. Needless to say, this caused a bit of a traffic jam because one lane was completely closed. Our initial reaction what that we needed to get out of the lane immediately because we didn't want to get stuck. This was because in L.A. if you are in a lane that is ending you will NEVER get out of it. If people see that you need to get out of the lane they will speed up so that you can't. I don't know why people are so mean but it makes my blood boil. You have to pretty much take your life into your hands and just go for it or you will be in that lane for the rest of you your life. So, back to highway 2 between Red Deer and Edmonton. The civilized Canadians actually took turns letting people in with vigorous waving every time. It was so refreshing.
Chip readers for credit cards: They don't have these in the U.S. yet! Can you believe that? Welcome to the new millenium people!! They've had them in Europe for years. When I use my credit card in L.A. I actually have to sign the receipt! Crazy! On a similar note, it's nice having money that doesn't all look the same.
Taboganning: It might surprise you that this made the list given my last post. Well, while we were visiting David's parents we did a little taboganning. On our first run, Asha and I got snow in our faces, up our sleeves and down our boots. Asha started screaming and said it was the worst day ever and she was NEVER going sledding ever again. But guess what? Asha was begging someone to go down again with her 5 minutes later. And I willingly went again. Maybe taboganning is like childbirth. It kinda sucks while you're doing it yet eventually you want to do it again. I've heard that women have some sort of inherent amnesia that literally makes them forget the pain of labour so that they want to do it again. Maybe Canadians have a similar amnesia for snow.
Stars: It's not really fair to compare the visibility of stars in the middle of L.A. to an acreage outside of Onoway, Alberta but when I went outside to get something while staying at David's parents I was dazzled by the stars. There are about three layers of stars that I had completely forgotten about.
So, am I excited to go back to L.A. where it is supposed to be 25 degrees next week? Am I looking forward to going outside to play with Asha and Nia without 30 minutes to put on snowsuits, followed by 10 minutes of playing, followed by 30 minutes of removing snowsuits? Heck yeah! But will I miss our family and friends, the familiarity of home, and of course that lovely feeling of snow packed against the inside of my wrist? You betcha.
I have now been back visiting in Canada for about 2 weeks. We had a fantastic Christmas full of family and food. I have been reminded that there are many things that I love about Canada, even though it's cold (and it's not even cold right now! What's going on?!). So here are some of the things about Canada that I love, in no particular order.
Bumping into random people from your past: In the last two weeks I have bumped into the following: a friend who I haven't seen since junior high (I actually saw her at the L.A. airport and she's an actress in L.A.! Crazy!), a friend who I've known since grade 3 but have kind of lost touch with, my high school boyfriend, and a friend from my choir. These things just don't happen in L.A. (with the exception of the junior high friend but that was just wierd).
Grandparents & Aunties: Of course, we are thrilled to see our family because we love them and want to spend time with them but we also love the free babysitting that they provide. David and I took a quick trip down to Calgary while our girls stayed behind with Granny, Grumps, and Auntie Jeanettey. Calgary is not exactly an exotic location but we got to sleep in until... wait for it... 9:30am!! We then laid around and did nothing until 10:30 when we had to check out. It was heaven.
Hockey: While in Calgary we went to the Sweden vs. Switzerland World Juniors game. We got two tickets for $20 from a scalper and sat so high we were actually above the scoreboard. We thought about sneaking down to some empty seats lower down (just like old times) but decided that's OK when you're 20 but not when you're 32. The game was suprisingly fabulous! We chose teams to cheer for to make things exciting. I chose Sweden not because of their hockey prowess but because I love the Swedes with their leftie Socialist ways. Sweden turned out to be a far superior team but Switzerland somehow pulled it together and forced a shootout. Anyway, I forgot how much I love hockey. We don't watch it much anymore because we don't have TV but I have vowed to watch it more often. The game confirmed our already-held belief that hockey is soooo much better than football. Oh, and my favourite David quote from our Calgary trip was: "I think I saw one of the hockey players in our hotel lobby because he was wearing a suit and sounded half-retarded". Isn't that just so true? Where else do you see simple-minded teenagers wearing suits than at a Canadian hockey rink?
Kind people in traffic: My experience has been that, in general, people in L.A. are as nice as people in Canada. However, this is not the case in traffic. People become evil on the L.A. freeways. When we were driving back from Calgary there was a semi-truck flipped over in the ditch that had strewn sheets of OSB all over the road. Needless to say, this caused a bit of a traffic jam because one lane was completely closed. Our initial reaction what that we needed to get out of the lane immediately because we didn't want to get stuck. This was because in L.A. if you are in a lane that is ending you will NEVER get out of it. If people see that you need to get out of the lane they will speed up so that you can't. I don't know why people are so mean but it makes my blood boil. You have to pretty much take your life into your hands and just go for it or you will be in that lane for the rest of you your life. So, back to highway 2 between Red Deer and Edmonton. The civilized Canadians actually took turns letting people in with vigorous waving every time. It was so refreshing.
Chip readers for credit cards: They don't have these in the U.S. yet! Can you believe that? Welcome to the new millenium people!! They've had them in Europe for years. When I use my credit card in L.A. I actually have to sign the receipt! Crazy! On a similar note, it's nice having money that doesn't all look the same.
Taboganning: It might surprise you that this made the list given my last post. Well, while we were visiting David's parents we did a little taboganning. On our first run, Asha and I got snow in our faces, up our sleeves and down our boots. Asha started screaming and said it was the worst day ever and she was NEVER going sledding ever again. But guess what? Asha was begging someone to go down again with her 5 minutes later. And I willingly went again. Maybe taboganning is like childbirth. It kinda sucks while you're doing it yet eventually you want to do it again. I've heard that women have some sort of inherent amnesia that literally makes them forget the pain of labour so that they want to do it again. Maybe Canadians have a similar amnesia for snow.
Stars: It's not really fair to compare the visibility of stars in the middle of L.A. to an acreage outside of Onoway, Alberta but when I went outside to get something while staying at David's parents I was dazzled by the stars. There are about three layers of stars that I had completely forgotten about.
So, am I excited to go back to L.A. where it is supposed to be 25 degrees next week? Am I looking forward to going outside to play with Asha and Nia without 30 minutes to put on snowsuits, followed by 10 minutes of playing, followed by 30 minutes of removing snowsuits? Heck yeah! But will I miss our family and friends, the familiarity of home, and of course that lovely feeling of snow packed against the inside of my wrist? You betcha.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
WWCD? (What Would Cupid Do?)
Since coming back to Canada for Christmas I have gotten some serious scoldings for not blogging more so here's a double wammy for you to make up for the rest of the month. Lucky you!
So Christmas is an interesting time of year, don't you think? I've always felt conflicted about Christmas for a few reasons. Firstly, I am not Christian so I've always felt like a bit of an imposter celebrating a holiday when I don't believe in the actual reason for it. I also am increasingly disgusted by consumerism and Christmas truly is consumerism at it's height. This year I have also realized that I kind of hate snow which feels terribly un-Canadian and un-Christmasy.
Of course, all of this is emphasized by the fact that I have a 4 and a half (not 4, don't you dare try to say she's 4) year old person asking me questions all the time. It's awfully hard to celebrate Christmas without mentioning Jesus and rightly so since he's the reason for the season and all that. He's in the middle of the nativity scene and he's mentioned once or twice in Christmas carols. It was only a matter of time before Asha asked who was this guy that everyone's making such a fuss about.
Here's what I believe. I don't think there's a God. I think Jesus was just a mortal human being but I think he had a wonderful message to share with the world. I think he was an amazing person who did wonderful things and if people could truly just live the message that he brought, the world would be a better place. I'm not sure if the whole Bethlehem/stable business happened but I think it's a lovely idea that he had such a humble birth and grew to be such an influential person. There are images of Christmas that I think are lovely.
So I tried to explain the above to Asha as tactfully as possible. I want her to know that some people think that there is a God that created everything and that Jesus was his son and had special powers. I want her to know that my beliefs are my own and other people believe otherwise.
Well she has really latched on to the whole Jesus thing. I think it might be because he's a cute baby in the nativity scene but I think it's also because she likes the idea of someone telling people that they should be nice to eachother. She seems to be undecided about whether or not Jesus was more than human. She also went through a period of getting Jesus and Cupid mixed up. She would say "I'm going to share my snack with Nia because Cupid said we should share". I didn't correct her because it was hilarious.
The flip side of Christmas is the whole present-giving aspect. I like the fact that people came from far and wide to bring Jesus gifts although what's a baby supposed to do with frankincense and what exactly is myrrh, other than a very difficult word to spell? I think Mary probably would have preferred a soother or diapers or, here's a thought, a crib for the baby instead of a feeding trough! I am a total sucker for the Little Drummer Boy and how he goes to see the baby but has nothing to give so he plays him a song.
But how do you tell your kids that Christmas isn't just about presents when the whole world is telling them otherwise? I know it makes me a total Scrooge but I really dislike the concept of writing a list to Santa and sitting on his lap and asking for stuff. No wonder kids are obsessed with opening their presents and are rude to Aunt Myrtle when she only gives them pajamas. We're teaching them that they're entitled to get whatever they want!
I enjoy giving and receiving presents and I especially love when I think of the perfect present for someone. I always have at least one person for whom I think of the best gift and I can't wait for them to open it. There's something about the inherent generosity of Christmas that I love but I think it's been lost in the craziness of the season.
I guess I must be doing something right though because when I asked Asha what she wanted for Christmas she said a toy car, nothing more. I was surprised but she hasn't changed her mind. We were at the grocery store and she said "That Mom! That's what I want for Christmas!" while pointing to a $1.00 Matchbox car. That's all she wanted. She also decided to make Nia a present which consisted of a card on which she wrote "Dear Nia. I hope. Asha." She got a bit distracted in the middle and forgot to write what she hoped for. It's the thought that counts, right?
So if you ask Asha what Christmas is about she says, "Jesus (she got the Cupid thing sorted out, much to my sagrine), being with family, and snow". She's knows better than to say "presents" for fear of my reaction. She has decided that anyone that she's sees during this visit is family because Christmas is about family. I kind of like that.
So Christmas is an interesting time of year, don't you think? I've always felt conflicted about Christmas for a few reasons. Firstly, I am not Christian so I've always felt like a bit of an imposter celebrating a holiday when I don't believe in the actual reason for it. I also am increasingly disgusted by consumerism and Christmas truly is consumerism at it's height. This year I have also realized that I kind of hate snow which feels terribly un-Canadian and un-Christmasy.
Of course, all of this is emphasized by the fact that I have a 4 and a half (not 4, don't you dare try to say she's 4) year old person asking me questions all the time. It's awfully hard to celebrate Christmas without mentioning Jesus and rightly so since he's the reason for the season and all that. He's in the middle of the nativity scene and he's mentioned once or twice in Christmas carols. It was only a matter of time before Asha asked who was this guy that everyone's making such a fuss about.
Here's what I believe. I don't think there's a God. I think Jesus was just a mortal human being but I think he had a wonderful message to share with the world. I think he was an amazing person who did wonderful things and if people could truly just live the message that he brought, the world would be a better place. I'm not sure if the whole Bethlehem/stable business happened but I think it's a lovely idea that he had such a humble birth and grew to be such an influential person. There are images of Christmas that I think are lovely.
So I tried to explain the above to Asha as tactfully as possible. I want her to know that some people think that there is a God that created everything and that Jesus was his son and had special powers. I want her to know that my beliefs are my own and other people believe otherwise.
Well she has really latched on to the whole Jesus thing. I think it might be because he's a cute baby in the nativity scene but I think it's also because she likes the idea of someone telling people that they should be nice to eachother. She seems to be undecided about whether or not Jesus was more than human. She also went through a period of getting Jesus and Cupid mixed up. She would say "I'm going to share my snack with Nia because Cupid said we should share". I didn't correct her because it was hilarious.
The flip side of Christmas is the whole present-giving aspect. I like the fact that people came from far and wide to bring Jesus gifts although what's a baby supposed to do with frankincense and what exactly is myrrh, other than a very difficult word to spell? I think Mary probably would have preferred a soother or diapers or, here's a thought, a crib for the baby instead of a feeding trough! I am a total sucker for the Little Drummer Boy and how he goes to see the baby but has nothing to give so he plays him a song.
But how do you tell your kids that Christmas isn't just about presents when the whole world is telling them otherwise? I know it makes me a total Scrooge but I really dislike the concept of writing a list to Santa and sitting on his lap and asking for stuff. No wonder kids are obsessed with opening their presents and are rude to Aunt Myrtle when she only gives them pajamas. We're teaching them that they're entitled to get whatever they want!
I enjoy giving and receiving presents and I especially love when I think of the perfect present for someone. I always have at least one person for whom I think of the best gift and I can't wait for them to open it. There's something about the inherent generosity of Christmas that I love but I think it's been lost in the craziness of the season.
I guess I must be doing something right though because when I asked Asha what she wanted for Christmas she said a toy car, nothing more. I was surprised but she hasn't changed her mind. We were at the grocery store and she said "That Mom! That's what I want for Christmas!" while pointing to a $1.00 Matchbox car. That's all she wanted. She also decided to make Nia a present which consisted of a card on which she wrote "Dear Nia. I hope. Asha." She got a bit distracted in the middle and forgot to write what she hoped for. It's the thought that counts, right?
So if you ask Asha what Christmas is about she says, "Jesus (she got the Cupid thing sorted out, much to my sagrine), being with family, and snow". She's knows better than to say "presents" for fear of my reaction. She has decided that anyone that she's sees during this visit is family because Christmas is about family. I kind of like that.
I'm Dreaming of a Green Christmas
Overall Asha has adapted to our move very well but, just in case, when we first landed in L.A. I tried to make a point of telling Asha all of the great things about living in Calfornia. One of these things was the fact that it doesn't snow there which for me was somewhere around number 1 on my list of reasons to move there. Well when I told her that it doesn't snow in L.A. Asha started to cry. Big, fat, miserable tears. It had never occurred to me that for a 4 year old, snow was one of the best things ever. Her classmates were SO jealous that she got to go to Canada for Christmas and play in snow. Many of them have never seen snow and most of the ones who have went to the mountains outside of L.A. and searched for a patch of snow to touch.
One of the most common questions that I've been asked lately is if I miss the snow. Well, I hate to break it to you but I haven't missed the snow one tiny little bit. If I never saw another snowflake for the rest of my life I would be A-okay. I know that some people genuinely enjoy skiing and snowmobiling and all that but I am not one of those people. Sometimes I wonder if anyone actually does enjoy those activities or if they just fool themselves into liking them to justify living in this ridiculous climate! I've also wondered if anyone really truly likes wasabi or if they just pretend to. Seriously, it tastes like a combination of saltwater and toilet cleaner.
I think Canadians like to feel superior to the rest of the world because we're so tough and rugged. I recently saw a commercial for Tide laundry detergent that said something to that effect. Essentially, we Canadians are so tough for living in the cold and therefore should wash their laundry in Tide Cold Water detergent. I don't really see the logic... Anyway, I find myself doing it when I'm in L.A.. Whenever someone complains that it's cold I openly mock them and tell them that they don't know cold. I went to a kid's birthday party and it was probably about 10-15 degrees celsius outside which is very chilly for the folks down there. Everyone was huddled around a heat lamp while Asha and I wore T-shirts. I felt very superior and thick-skinned compared to those wimpy Californians.
But are we really hardier than them or are we just stupid? If we could skip the snow and have warm weather year-round would we really not choose to? We tend to think that the only options are the Edmonton 4-season climate and the Carribean tropical-year-round climate. People often say that they love Canada because of our distinct 4 seasons. Well I hate to break it to you but they also have 4 distinct seasons in L.A. They consist of: warm summer, temperate fall (complete with beautiful fall leaves!), somewhat rainy winter, and temperate spring. In my books, that beats 6 months of snow any day! We also tend to think that the only options are a white Christmas and a brown Christmas. Well how about a green Christmas, people?! In L.A. everyone stops watering their lawns in December because it's humid enough to keep your lawn green! Yes, green! People have to put cardboard cutouts of snowmen and snowflakes on their lawn for Christmas decorations (and yes, I openly mock them because they don't know what snow is REALLY like).
So, all of that said, we are now in Canada. One of the first things Asha wanted to do was put on her snowpants and roll around in the snow. We spent a lovely hour shoveling the driveway which was actually pretty fun and Asha was quite helpful, much to my surprise. I like shoveling snow but probably because I never do it. We popped up to Whitecourt for a quick visit and it had recently snowed so there was a layer of glittering snow on all the spruce trees. The sun was setting over Whitecourt "mountain" and I had to confess, out loud to myself that it was really, really beautiful. A Whitecourt sunset beats a the sun setting over the beach anyday.
I also must confess that it feels much more Christmas-y here. When I ask Asha what Christmas is about (in the hope that she won't say 'presents') she says it's about snow. I think she might think that we had to leave California for Christmas because it doesn't actually happen there because there's no snow. She must be very sad for her friends.
So I guess my love/hate relationship with snow continues. It's probably about 10% love and 90% hate. But I guess it's in my soul for life. Maybe one day I'll long for a good snow day so I can go tabogganing or something. Although I've always though tabogganing was the craziest winter sport of all. I imagine aliens coming down and watching it. I think they would say something to this effect: "So you run up the hill, then slide down it while snow flies into your face and goes up your mittens and down your boots until you run into something. Then you run back up again to do it all over again. Over and over and over. Let's go find some intelligent lifeforms". Building snowmen is genuinely fun but there isn't enough snow this year and it's not sticky enough! I just can't win.
One of the most common questions that I've been asked lately is if I miss the snow. Well, I hate to break it to you but I haven't missed the snow one tiny little bit. If I never saw another snowflake for the rest of my life I would be A-okay. I know that some people genuinely enjoy skiing and snowmobiling and all that but I am not one of those people. Sometimes I wonder if anyone actually does enjoy those activities or if they just fool themselves into liking them to justify living in this ridiculous climate! I've also wondered if anyone really truly likes wasabi or if they just pretend to. Seriously, it tastes like a combination of saltwater and toilet cleaner.
I think Canadians like to feel superior to the rest of the world because we're so tough and rugged. I recently saw a commercial for Tide laundry detergent that said something to that effect. Essentially, we Canadians are so tough for living in the cold and therefore should wash their laundry in Tide Cold Water detergent. I don't really see the logic... Anyway, I find myself doing it when I'm in L.A.. Whenever someone complains that it's cold I openly mock them and tell them that they don't know cold. I went to a kid's birthday party and it was probably about 10-15 degrees celsius outside which is very chilly for the folks down there. Everyone was huddled around a heat lamp while Asha and I wore T-shirts. I felt very superior and thick-skinned compared to those wimpy Californians.
But are we really hardier than them or are we just stupid? If we could skip the snow and have warm weather year-round would we really not choose to? We tend to think that the only options are the Edmonton 4-season climate and the Carribean tropical-year-round climate. People often say that they love Canada because of our distinct 4 seasons. Well I hate to break it to you but they also have 4 distinct seasons in L.A. They consist of: warm summer, temperate fall (complete with beautiful fall leaves!), somewhat rainy winter, and temperate spring. In my books, that beats 6 months of snow any day! We also tend to think that the only options are a white Christmas and a brown Christmas. Well how about a green Christmas, people?! In L.A. everyone stops watering their lawns in December because it's humid enough to keep your lawn green! Yes, green! People have to put cardboard cutouts of snowmen and snowflakes on their lawn for Christmas decorations (and yes, I openly mock them because they don't know what snow is REALLY like).
So, all of that said, we are now in Canada. One of the first things Asha wanted to do was put on her snowpants and roll around in the snow. We spent a lovely hour shoveling the driveway which was actually pretty fun and Asha was quite helpful, much to my surprise. I like shoveling snow but probably because I never do it. We popped up to Whitecourt for a quick visit and it had recently snowed so there was a layer of glittering snow on all the spruce trees. The sun was setting over Whitecourt "mountain" and I had to confess, out loud to myself that it was really, really beautiful. A Whitecourt sunset beats a the sun setting over the beach anyday.
I also must confess that it feels much more Christmas-y here. When I ask Asha what Christmas is about (in the hope that she won't say 'presents') she says it's about snow. I think she might think that we had to leave California for Christmas because it doesn't actually happen there because there's no snow. She must be very sad for her friends.
So I guess my love/hate relationship with snow continues. It's probably about 10% love and 90% hate. But I guess it's in my soul for life. Maybe one day I'll long for a good snow day so I can go tabogganing or something. Although I've always though tabogganing was the craziest winter sport of all. I imagine aliens coming down and watching it. I think they would say something to this effect: "So you run up the hill, then slide down it while snow flies into your face and goes up your mittens and down your boots until you run into something. Then you run back up again to do it all over again. Over and over and over. Let's go find some intelligent lifeforms". Building snowmen is genuinely fun but there isn't enough snow this year and it's not sticky enough! I just can't win.
Monday, December 12, 2011
The long-awaited choir blog post!
Well at least Amy has been waiting for a post about my choir. The title probably scared the rest of you away. But never fear! This isn't going to be some dorky rant about choir music (although Sable from Belle Canto does have a dorky choir blog and it's AWESOME if you're into that sort of thing. It's called The Choir Girl Blog). Anyway, my new choir has been a fantastic experience not just musically but it has also helped me see how good and kind people can be.
For those of you who don't know, I have been singing with the same choir since I was 15. It's a small women's choir called Belle Canto. Not to brag, but, well I guess I'll brag bit. Belle Canto is really good. We've competed all over Europe. We routinely win national competitions. But all that aside, they are one of the smartest, coolest groups of women I've ever been in. I know what you're thinking... choir girls? Cool? Impossible! Well we may not be cool in a high school, mean-girls kind of way but they really are fabulous women and I miss them terribly.
So one of the things that I definitely wanted to do here in L.A. was find a choir to sing in. The fantastic thing about living in a giant city is that there are opportunities to do everything! I googled choirs before we even came here. The first thing that came up was the Gay Men's Chorus of L.A. I figured I wasn't wanted since I'm neither gay, nor a man. They did, however just allow two straight men to join the group. Shocking! The next choir that came up was a big mixed voice (meaning men and women) choir. It had a fairly simple name like Los Angeles Chamber Choir or something but I couldn't help noticing as I looked at the website that every person in the choir was Asian. It wasn't mentioned anywhere but once again I had the sneaking suspicion that I wasn't wanted.
So after much googling I found a small women's choir called Namaste. There were about 20 women in the group and they were all about my age. Sound familiar? It was like Belle Canto all over again. The only glaring difference was that it was a bit more touchy-feely and I was guessing a bit less serious. Last year they had a yoga concert where the choir sang and the audience did yoga. Isn't that so fabulously L.A.? Well it turns out the Namaste choir was going through a transition and weren't going to be singing this year. The conductor pointed me in the direction of Angel City Chorale which is the choir that I now call mine (although I still refer to Belle Canto as "my choir" too which confuses David greatly).
The audition was a bit nerve-wracking because I am not used to singing alone. I'm in a choir for a reason! I was so nervous but the audition went well. The conductor asked if I had perfect pitch! Ha! I way really proud of myself for auditioning though and forcing myself out of my comfort zone (i.e., back-up singer for the fabulous singers in Belle Canto).
Angel City Chorale or ACC is a choir of 150 with both men and women so it is a far cry from what I'm used to. The conductor is a tiny spark of a women of an unidentifiable age. She looks to be about 50 or 60 but she's got the energy of a 4 year old. She's also hilarious which makes rehearsals really fun. The people in the choir are without a doubt the nicest people I've ever met. They go out of their way to make new people feel welcome. There is a man with autism in the choir who constantly hugs people and has a fascination with Swedish vocabulary. He has a tendency to stare but you get used to him. There is also a blind man named Guillermo with a fabulous tenor voice. In concert we stand in different places than we rehearse in so everyone ends up standing by someone new. One of the loveliest moments of the concert for me was when one of the men lightly touched Guillermo on the shoulder and said "it's Bill. I'm standing right behind you so let me know if you need anything".
Rehearsals started in September to prepare for a holiday concert in December. By November I must admit I was getting a bit annoyed and nervous. I'm used to singing in a choir with fabulous sight-readers so not a lot of time is spent actually learning notes. I felt like the 3rd month with ACC was spent listening to the basses learn their notes. I was also worried that the concert was going to suck. We sounded kind of terrible. I didn't think we were going to pull it together. I knew the concert would be fun because the music was really audience-friendly but if I had been able to invite any of the ladies from Belle Canto to the concert I would have probably warned them that it was not going to be a stellar concert.
Well amazingly we did manage to pull it together. The concert was not only really fun but also really good! The conductor had a really casual, affable connection to the audience. When a baby in the audience squawked or the trumpet screwed up she made a joke of it to cut the tension. The music we sang was a great mix of classical and modern pieces. One of the best things about singing in a choir in L.A. (and about L.A. in general) is the diversity. It was so great to sing gospel songs with actual black people! Hannukah songs with actual Jewish people! We even sang a Jewish gospel song!
David brought Asha to the concert and I had taught her the chorus for Angels We Have Heard on High ahead of time which was one of the audience sing-alongs. It was just about the cutest thing ever to see her belting out Latin in the audience.
Last weekend the choir did their 15th annual Tour of Hope which is an all-day event where we go around L.A. to sing to various groups of people in need. We started out on Skid Row (yes, it's actually a place and not just a band from the early 90's) and went on to a retirement home, a home for teenage mothers, and a place for families transitioning out of homelessness. We ended the day with a concert in a church where several groups of people were bussed in. This included women who have escaped abusive relationships, veterans, and people in recovery from addiction. It was truly a life-changing day. When we sang O Holy Night there were several men with tears in their eyes. I don't know if these men were veterans or ex-addicts but either way, they had been through unimaginable things and what we sang had touched them.
So despite a little bit of frustration with the bass section and the choir's inability to pronounce Latin correctly (did I mention that? Despite my efforts to be open-minded I'm still a bit of a choir snob) my experience with Angel City Chorale has been amazing. I've met some great people and have had some wonderful experiences. The Namaste choir might still be doing a yoga concert in a few months and I think I'll do that too. It's an experience, right? I'm trying to stay open-minded. Although did I mention that ACC do the hokey pokey before every concert? That was a bit too much for me...
For those of you who don't know, I have been singing with the same choir since I was 15. It's a small women's choir called Belle Canto. Not to brag, but, well I guess I'll brag bit. Belle Canto is really good. We've competed all over Europe. We routinely win national competitions. But all that aside, they are one of the smartest, coolest groups of women I've ever been in. I know what you're thinking... choir girls? Cool? Impossible! Well we may not be cool in a high school, mean-girls kind of way but they really are fabulous women and I miss them terribly.
So one of the things that I definitely wanted to do here in L.A. was find a choir to sing in. The fantastic thing about living in a giant city is that there are opportunities to do everything! I googled choirs before we even came here. The first thing that came up was the Gay Men's Chorus of L.A. I figured I wasn't wanted since I'm neither gay, nor a man. They did, however just allow two straight men to join the group. Shocking! The next choir that came up was a big mixed voice (meaning men and women) choir. It had a fairly simple name like Los Angeles Chamber Choir or something but I couldn't help noticing as I looked at the website that every person in the choir was Asian. It wasn't mentioned anywhere but once again I had the sneaking suspicion that I wasn't wanted.
So after much googling I found a small women's choir called Namaste. There were about 20 women in the group and they were all about my age. Sound familiar? It was like Belle Canto all over again. The only glaring difference was that it was a bit more touchy-feely and I was guessing a bit less serious. Last year they had a yoga concert where the choir sang and the audience did yoga. Isn't that so fabulously L.A.? Well it turns out the Namaste choir was going through a transition and weren't going to be singing this year. The conductor pointed me in the direction of Angel City Chorale which is the choir that I now call mine (although I still refer to Belle Canto as "my choir" too which confuses David greatly).
The audition was a bit nerve-wracking because I am not used to singing alone. I'm in a choir for a reason! I was so nervous but the audition went well. The conductor asked if I had perfect pitch! Ha! I way really proud of myself for auditioning though and forcing myself out of my comfort zone (i.e., back-up singer for the fabulous singers in Belle Canto).
Angel City Chorale or ACC is a choir of 150 with both men and women so it is a far cry from what I'm used to. The conductor is a tiny spark of a women of an unidentifiable age. She looks to be about 50 or 60 but she's got the energy of a 4 year old. She's also hilarious which makes rehearsals really fun. The people in the choir are without a doubt the nicest people I've ever met. They go out of their way to make new people feel welcome. There is a man with autism in the choir who constantly hugs people and has a fascination with Swedish vocabulary. He has a tendency to stare but you get used to him. There is also a blind man named Guillermo with a fabulous tenor voice. In concert we stand in different places than we rehearse in so everyone ends up standing by someone new. One of the loveliest moments of the concert for me was when one of the men lightly touched Guillermo on the shoulder and said "it's Bill. I'm standing right behind you so let me know if you need anything".
Rehearsals started in September to prepare for a holiday concert in December. By November I must admit I was getting a bit annoyed and nervous. I'm used to singing in a choir with fabulous sight-readers so not a lot of time is spent actually learning notes. I felt like the 3rd month with ACC was spent listening to the basses learn their notes. I was also worried that the concert was going to suck. We sounded kind of terrible. I didn't think we were going to pull it together. I knew the concert would be fun because the music was really audience-friendly but if I had been able to invite any of the ladies from Belle Canto to the concert I would have probably warned them that it was not going to be a stellar concert.
Well amazingly we did manage to pull it together. The concert was not only really fun but also really good! The conductor had a really casual, affable connection to the audience. When a baby in the audience squawked or the trumpet screwed up she made a joke of it to cut the tension. The music we sang was a great mix of classical and modern pieces. One of the best things about singing in a choir in L.A. (and about L.A. in general) is the diversity. It was so great to sing gospel songs with actual black people! Hannukah songs with actual Jewish people! We even sang a Jewish gospel song!
David brought Asha to the concert and I had taught her the chorus for Angels We Have Heard on High ahead of time which was one of the audience sing-alongs. It was just about the cutest thing ever to see her belting out Latin in the audience.
Last weekend the choir did their 15th annual Tour of Hope which is an all-day event where we go around L.A. to sing to various groups of people in need. We started out on Skid Row (yes, it's actually a place and not just a band from the early 90's) and went on to a retirement home, a home for teenage mothers, and a place for families transitioning out of homelessness. We ended the day with a concert in a church where several groups of people were bussed in. This included women who have escaped abusive relationships, veterans, and people in recovery from addiction. It was truly a life-changing day. When we sang O Holy Night there were several men with tears in their eyes. I don't know if these men were veterans or ex-addicts but either way, they had been through unimaginable things and what we sang had touched them.
So despite a little bit of frustration with the bass section and the choir's inability to pronounce Latin correctly (did I mention that? Despite my efforts to be open-minded I'm still a bit of a choir snob) my experience with Angel City Chorale has been amazing. I've met some great people and have had some wonderful experiences. The Namaste choir might still be doing a yoga concert in a few months and I think I'll do that too. It's an experience, right? I'm trying to stay open-minded. Although did I mention that ACC do the hokey pokey before every concert? That was a bit too much for me...
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
The 5 stages of meltdown
Sorry it's been a while since I've written anything but it's been a little hectic around here lately. Asha decided that a stint in the US wouldn't be complete without a trip through the American medical system. So, she decided to go ahead and break her arm.
The long and short of it is that she fell off her bike right onto her elbow. By the time David and had carried her and her bike back to her house she was crying but not in that hysterical, shrieky way that severely injured kids cry. It was pretty swollen so we decided to take her to the hospital to get it checked out. After waiting a couple of hours and reading every single story in our Robert Munsch anthology we finally saw a doctor who very helpfully told us that she didn't see a fracture on the xray but elbow fractures are notoriously hard to see so we might want to see someone else but it might be fine but if we want we can go to an orthopaedic hospital just in case...if we want...maybe. I know that ER doctors are not specialists and can't be expected to know everything but how about giving us some good, solid information to help us out! I'm all over being an empowered patient but I expect a doctor to at least give some guidance when a decision needs to be made.
So Asha was in fairly good spirits at this point and we decided that a kid with a broken arm would be significantly more miserable. We decided to see if the swelling went down over the following couple of days and go to the orthopaedic hospital if things hadn't improved. The next day I got a call from a Dr. Dash (isn't that a fabulous name?!). He had reviewed the x-ray and suspected a fracture and suggested we get it checked out. So I dutifully packed Asha up and headed to the hospital that the doctor from the night before had mentioned in her useless rambling.
My heart sank as we entered the waiting room of the orthopaedic hospital. It was packed with families waiting to be seen by the doctor. I saw a long wait ahead of us. I also couldn't help but notice that 95% of the people there were Latino the majority of which didn't speak English. Don't white people break their bones sometimes? The only other white people there were the wierdest family I've ever seen. The son was in his early 20's and was showing off his transformer toy to his grandpa. I thought that maybe he was cognitively delayed or something but I'm pretty sure he was just really wierd. He kept yelling at his mom and telling her what to do while she played some game on her cell phone and loudly commented about it.
You know how they say there are stages of grief? Well for Asha there were a series of stages of meltdown. It began with indifference followed by excitement because there were TV's everywhere for her to watch! I must say, I don't have a whole lot of positive things to say about television but it sorta saved my life that day. I can only read Murmel Murmel Murmel so many times! The next stage of meltdown was anger when the masses of other kids in the waiting room wanted to share her toys. She lost her ever-loving mind whenever anyone went near her dress-up bears and I had to put them all away.
This was followed by a very very long stage of boredom. She was prepared to do cartwheels on her sore arm in order to get out of there. I was also starting to think that it was all a waste of time and we were going to wait all day to find out she was fine. But I was "pot committed" as they say in poker and I wasn't going to bail out at that point. We'd had lunch before we left and I'd only packed a few snacks since I thought we'd just be a couple of hours. The cafeteria closed at 3:00. What closes at 3:00 I ask you!! So we ate Cheetos for dinner.
7 1/2 hours later we finally saw the doctor. They took another series of x-rays and discovered that Asha's elbow was indeed fractured. They couldn't believe that the first doctor hadn't seen it. They told me that they would give Asha a shot of morphine and try to push the bone frament back into place and put it in a cast. I was told that the morphine might make her sleepy which sounded a-okay to me! I had visions of lovingly carrying my sleeping girl out to the truck, driving home, and putting her in bed where she belonged. Well the morphine seemed to make her not so much sleepy as unbearably grumpy and beligerent. She screamed for her dad (who wasn't there) the whole time they were putting on the cast. When the x-ray technician took one last set of x-rays Asha told him, and I quote, "get out of my life". When the doctor told us that the bone fragment looked like it was in place and surgery likely wouldn't be needed (a very real possibility up until that point) I said "thank you" and Asha scowled at him and said "no thank you". Oh dear. So the last stage of meltdown for Asha that night seemed to be beligerence. I think her little 4 year old brain was looking for someone to blame for all of this and she decided that he was a good scapegoat.
The next day we went back to the hospital to have the head doctor check everything out and luckily surgery will not be necessary. I don't want to find out what general anesthetic might to do Asha's disposition! We also got a call from the first hospital to make sure that we had followed up with a specialist. I would love to believe that they had Asha's well-being in mind but I'm pretty sure they had lawsuit alarm bells ringing all over the place.
I must say that overall Asha has been such a trooper through the whole process. Of course it is her right arm that is broken which is her dominant hand. She has just carried on with life and eats, writes, and plays with her left arm without any complaints. I still can't believe how tough she was for the entire day before she got a cast put on her arm. I think she has inherited a high pain tolerance from her dad and her Grandma. David once went home from the hospital despite severe abdominal pains only to return once his appendix had RUPTURED! My mom once told me that childbirth isn't so much painful as "a feeling of intense pressure".
Oh, and it turns out that Latino people aren't more frail than white people (or any other ethnicity for that matter). There are orthopaedic hospitals all over L.A. The doctor had not sent me to the one close by at UCLA but for some reason sent me downtown to the hospital that's in a predominantely Latino neighbourhood. I'm not sure if we would have had a shorter wait time at another hospital. Part of me wishes that we would have known but another part of me wonders if I should get a shorter wait just because I have fancy expensive Canadian travel health insurance. My day was kind of hellish but it wasn't as bad as the lady who had 4 hyper boys with her (and I'm pretty sure the oldest who was "injured" was faking... he had the fakest limp ever).
Well Asha is now sporting a flourescent pink cast from her armpit to her fingers. She wanted her cast to be "every colour except black" but they wouldn't let her have more than one colour. They said that no kid has ever asked for a rainbow cast before. That's the thing about my Asha. She can be rude sometimes. She can be grumpy every now and then. But boring she is not.
The long and short of it is that she fell off her bike right onto her elbow. By the time David and had carried her and her bike back to her house she was crying but not in that hysterical, shrieky way that severely injured kids cry. It was pretty swollen so we decided to take her to the hospital to get it checked out. After waiting a couple of hours and reading every single story in our Robert Munsch anthology we finally saw a doctor who very helpfully told us that she didn't see a fracture on the xray but elbow fractures are notoriously hard to see so we might want to see someone else but it might be fine but if we want we can go to an orthopaedic hospital just in case...if we want...maybe. I know that ER doctors are not specialists and can't be expected to know everything but how about giving us some good, solid information to help us out! I'm all over being an empowered patient but I expect a doctor to at least give some guidance when a decision needs to be made.
So Asha was in fairly good spirits at this point and we decided that a kid with a broken arm would be significantly more miserable. We decided to see if the swelling went down over the following couple of days and go to the orthopaedic hospital if things hadn't improved. The next day I got a call from a Dr. Dash (isn't that a fabulous name?!). He had reviewed the x-ray and suspected a fracture and suggested we get it checked out. So I dutifully packed Asha up and headed to the hospital that the doctor from the night before had mentioned in her useless rambling.
My heart sank as we entered the waiting room of the orthopaedic hospital. It was packed with families waiting to be seen by the doctor. I saw a long wait ahead of us. I also couldn't help but notice that 95% of the people there were Latino the majority of which didn't speak English. Don't white people break their bones sometimes? The only other white people there were the wierdest family I've ever seen. The son was in his early 20's and was showing off his transformer toy to his grandpa. I thought that maybe he was cognitively delayed or something but I'm pretty sure he was just really wierd. He kept yelling at his mom and telling her what to do while she played some game on her cell phone and loudly commented about it.
You know how they say there are stages of grief? Well for Asha there were a series of stages of meltdown. It began with indifference followed by excitement because there were TV's everywhere for her to watch! I must say, I don't have a whole lot of positive things to say about television but it sorta saved my life that day. I can only read Murmel Murmel Murmel so many times! The next stage of meltdown was anger when the masses of other kids in the waiting room wanted to share her toys. She lost her ever-loving mind whenever anyone went near her dress-up bears and I had to put them all away.
This was followed by a very very long stage of boredom. She was prepared to do cartwheels on her sore arm in order to get out of there. I was also starting to think that it was all a waste of time and we were going to wait all day to find out she was fine. But I was "pot committed" as they say in poker and I wasn't going to bail out at that point. We'd had lunch before we left and I'd only packed a few snacks since I thought we'd just be a couple of hours. The cafeteria closed at 3:00. What closes at 3:00 I ask you!! So we ate Cheetos for dinner.
7 1/2 hours later we finally saw the doctor. They took another series of x-rays and discovered that Asha's elbow was indeed fractured. They couldn't believe that the first doctor hadn't seen it. They told me that they would give Asha a shot of morphine and try to push the bone frament back into place and put it in a cast. I was told that the morphine might make her sleepy which sounded a-okay to me! I had visions of lovingly carrying my sleeping girl out to the truck, driving home, and putting her in bed where she belonged. Well the morphine seemed to make her not so much sleepy as unbearably grumpy and beligerent. She screamed for her dad (who wasn't there) the whole time they were putting on the cast. When the x-ray technician took one last set of x-rays Asha told him, and I quote, "get out of my life". When the doctor told us that the bone fragment looked like it was in place and surgery likely wouldn't be needed (a very real possibility up until that point) I said "thank you" and Asha scowled at him and said "no thank you". Oh dear. So the last stage of meltdown for Asha that night seemed to be beligerence. I think her little 4 year old brain was looking for someone to blame for all of this and she decided that he was a good scapegoat.
The next day we went back to the hospital to have the head doctor check everything out and luckily surgery will not be necessary. I don't want to find out what general anesthetic might to do Asha's disposition! We also got a call from the first hospital to make sure that we had followed up with a specialist. I would love to believe that they had Asha's well-being in mind but I'm pretty sure they had lawsuit alarm bells ringing all over the place.
I must say that overall Asha has been such a trooper through the whole process. Of course it is her right arm that is broken which is her dominant hand. She has just carried on with life and eats, writes, and plays with her left arm without any complaints. I still can't believe how tough she was for the entire day before she got a cast put on her arm. I think she has inherited a high pain tolerance from her dad and her Grandma. David once went home from the hospital despite severe abdominal pains only to return once his appendix had RUPTURED! My mom once told me that childbirth isn't so much painful as "a feeling of intense pressure".
Oh, and it turns out that Latino people aren't more frail than white people (or any other ethnicity for that matter). There are orthopaedic hospitals all over L.A. The doctor had not sent me to the one close by at UCLA but for some reason sent me downtown to the hospital that's in a predominantely Latino neighbourhood. I'm not sure if we would have had a shorter wait time at another hospital. Part of me wishes that we would have known but another part of me wonders if I should get a shorter wait just because I have fancy expensive Canadian travel health insurance. My day was kind of hellish but it wasn't as bad as the lady who had 4 hyper boys with her (and I'm pretty sure the oldest who was "injured" was faking... he had the fakest limp ever).
Well Asha is now sporting a flourescent pink cast from her armpit to her fingers. She wanted her cast to be "every colour except black" but they wouldn't let her have more than one colour. They said that no kid has ever asked for a rainbow cast before. That's the thing about my Asha. She can be rude sometimes. She can be grumpy every now and then. But boring she is not.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Go Trojans!
No, I did not have a bad parenting day and decide to publicly celebrate birth control (Trojans...condoms...get it?). No, today we went to our first ever college football game! It was one of the things on our list of things to do while we're in L.A. and as a USC student David thought he should support "his" team.
As you probably know, college football is kind of a big deal down here. There is a very fierce rivalry between USC and UCLA. When I auditioned for my choir the conductor, a UCLA alum asked what brought me to L.A.. When I told her that my husband was going to USC she said, very scathingly, "oh... the other school". I laughed but she wasn't kidding. I'm kind of surprised that I got into the choir! Well we weren't able to go to a USC vs. UCLA game but we thought a game against the Washington Huskies would suffice.
So to get in the spirit of things we went a bit early to check out the tailgate party which consisted of about a bazillion tents set up in the quad at the university. Pretty much every club, group, and organization had a tent set up. There was one for Latino USC students, USC parents, Jewish students, etc. Not to mention all the sororities and fraternities such as phi kappa sigma not to be confused with sigma kappa phi. It got me thinking about belonging and how we all want to feel as though we're a part of something. Apparently it isn't enough that they all go to the same school and cheer for the same team, they need to compartmentalize themselves even more. I'm thinking about started my own group for wives of USC students that like hummus.
So the tents were surrounded by people milling around and eating and drinking. Every tent seemed to have food but I was unsure if it was free for the taking. Can I take hummus from the Gay & Lesbian student tent if I'm not a lesbian nor a student? We saw a couple of guys shotguning cans of Coors light which made me comment "is there any point in shotguning light beer? Is it just like drinking normal beer at a normal pace?"
From the tents we headed over to the stadium. We were immediately struck by how seemingly sedate the crowd seemed to be. We found our seats and looked around. Then David noticed it. Nobody had beer! We were shocked! We had really been looking forward to eating some popcorn and drinking $10 watered down beer! Isn't that what football's all about? Suddenly I was wishing that I had shotguned a Coors light.
I'm not what you would call a football "fan". I understand the general rules. I get it that you have to get the ball across the field and you only have so many downs and you have to gain so many yards in a down and all that. My problem with football is that there so much downtime. There's about 5 minutes of set-up for a play that lasts 10 seconds that may or may not actually be exciting. I find my mind wandering when everyone's just standing around and then I miss the action. I don't know if it's my years of watching hockey (a game that actually has constant action) but I had a hard time staying focused. At one point David said "what these guys need are some skates! Then things would get interesting!". And what's with all the penalties? The whole point of the game is jumping on top of eachother but heaven forbid they should grab someone's facemask! For a game with so many stops and starts, I found all the penalties unbearable! I think the penalties in hockey are if nothing else more impressive sounding. Slashing! Roughing! Cross-checking!
But enough complaining about football! It turned out that USC were the far superior team. They made some really impressive plays and there were some very exciting moments. Of course, when a touchdown was scored the fairly calm crowd when wild! They have this thing they do that is hard to describe. It's sort of like a hail Hitler salute but with a peace sign (kind of contradictory, I know). The band would play a song and everyone would wave two fingers up and down to the beat. I felt a bit like I was in a cult or something but it was sort of fun. Another highlight was that whenever the Trojans got a touchdown their mascot came onto the field. Was their mascot some big freaky furry animal suit? No! Whenever they got a touchdown a white horse named Traveler would ride out with a man on its back wearing a full Roman warrior costume complete with metal breastplate and drawn sword.
The horse, if you can believe it was not my favourite part of the touchdown (or the 6 points scored for that matter). My favourite part was what I like to call the "stranger high 5". Everyone around us would jump up and start high 5-ing eachother like we were all best friends. It made me think again about that feeling of belonging. Yesterday I didn't give a crap about football, let alone this particular team but there I was today high 5-ing strangers like the happiest thing in the world had just happened. It was kinda nice.
So if you ever get a chance to see college ball I highly recommend it! I didn't even mention the marching band that had about 500 people in it. David kept talking about how dorky they were. I couldn't really disagree but I'm guessing it's not easy to walk around with a tuba on your shoulder playing a song, marching in time, and lining up with 499 other people to spell the word "Traveler".
Fight on! That's what people in the USC "family" say. You wouldn't get it. You're not part of the club.
As you probably know, college football is kind of a big deal down here. There is a very fierce rivalry between USC and UCLA. When I auditioned for my choir the conductor, a UCLA alum asked what brought me to L.A.. When I told her that my husband was going to USC she said, very scathingly, "oh... the other school". I laughed but she wasn't kidding. I'm kind of surprised that I got into the choir! Well we weren't able to go to a USC vs. UCLA game but we thought a game against the Washington Huskies would suffice.
So to get in the spirit of things we went a bit early to check out the tailgate party which consisted of about a bazillion tents set up in the quad at the university. Pretty much every club, group, and organization had a tent set up. There was one for Latino USC students, USC parents, Jewish students, etc. Not to mention all the sororities and fraternities such as phi kappa sigma not to be confused with sigma kappa phi. It got me thinking about belonging and how we all want to feel as though we're a part of something. Apparently it isn't enough that they all go to the same school and cheer for the same team, they need to compartmentalize themselves even more. I'm thinking about started my own group for wives of USC students that like hummus.
So the tents were surrounded by people milling around and eating and drinking. Every tent seemed to have food but I was unsure if it was free for the taking. Can I take hummus from the Gay & Lesbian student tent if I'm not a lesbian nor a student? We saw a couple of guys shotguning cans of Coors light which made me comment "is there any point in shotguning light beer? Is it just like drinking normal beer at a normal pace?"
From the tents we headed over to the stadium. We were immediately struck by how seemingly sedate the crowd seemed to be. We found our seats and looked around. Then David noticed it. Nobody had beer! We were shocked! We had really been looking forward to eating some popcorn and drinking $10 watered down beer! Isn't that what football's all about? Suddenly I was wishing that I had shotguned a Coors light.
I'm not what you would call a football "fan". I understand the general rules. I get it that you have to get the ball across the field and you only have so many downs and you have to gain so many yards in a down and all that. My problem with football is that there so much downtime. There's about 5 minutes of set-up for a play that lasts 10 seconds that may or may not actually be exciting. I find my mind wandering when everyone's just standing around and then I miss the action. I don't know if it's my years of watching hockey (a game that actually has constant action) but I had a hard time staying focused. At one point David said "what these guys need are some skates! Then things would get interesting!". And what's with all the penalties? The whole point of the game is jumping on top of eachother but heaven forbid they should grab someone's facemask! For a game with so many stops and starts, I found all the penalties unbearable! I think the penalties in hockey are if nothing else more impressive sounding. Slashing! Roughing! Cross-checking!
But enough complaining about football! It turned out that USC were the far superior team. They made some really impressive plays and there were some very exciting moments. Of course, when a touchdown was scored the fairly calm crowd when wild! They have this thing they do that is hard to describe. It's sort of like a hail Hitler salute but with a peace sign (kind of contradictory, I know). The band would play a song and everyone would wave two fingers up and down to the beat. I felt a bit like I was in a cult or something but it was sort of fun. Another highlight was that whenever the Trojans got a touchdown their mascot came onto the field. Was their mascot some big freaky furry animal suit? No! Whenever they got a touchdown a white horse named Traveler would ride out with a man on its back wearing a full Roman warrior costume complete with metal breastplate and drawn sword.
The horse, if you can believe it was not my favourite part of the touchdown (or the 6 points scored for that matter). My favourite part was what I like to call the "stranger high 5". Everyone around us would jump up and start high 5-ing eachother like we were all best friends. It made me think again about that feeling of belonging. Yesterday I didn't give a crap about football, let alone this particular team but there I was today high 5-ing strangers like the happiest thing in the world had just happened. It was kinda nice.
So if you ever get a chance to see college ball I highly recommend it! I didn't even mention the marching band that had about 500 people in it. David kept talking about how dorky they were. I couldn't really disagree but I'm guessing it's not easy to walk around with a tuba on your shoulder playing a song, marching in time, and lining up with 499 other people to spell the word "Traveler".
Fight on! That's what people in the USC "family" say. You wouldn't get it. You're not part of the club.
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