For Everything Else, There’s Mastercard

11th row tickets to Bon Jovi’s Nashville show:  $330

Parking in Downtown Nashville:  $10

Breathing the same air as Jon Bon Jovi:  Priceless

38th row tickets to Bon Jovi’s Chicago show:  $330

Train tickets to and around Chicago:  $160

Being at Bon Jovi’s final show of The Circle tour surrounded by 60,000 people who, “get it”:  Priceless

 

Deep Thoughts

Gay Marriage:  When discussing gay marriage with other straight people here in the Bible belt, my support of the topic is usually unpopular.   Often, people will say, “I have a gay friend, (or brother, or brother-in-law, or cousin…..or whatever), and I love him/her…………..BUT, I don’t condone their lifestyle or think they should be able to marry.”  Of course they use  Christianity and the Bible to back their views.  You may remember that my cousin said it, and I’ve heard others say nearly the same thing.   

My deep thought is this:  Isn’t someone saying they have, “lots of gay friends” but openly campaigning against their freedom alot like the leader of the KKK saying, “I have lots of African American friends”? 

Belief Isn’t Enough:  The following is paraphrased from last Sunday’s sermon: Some people like to say it is enough just to say you believe, that’s all you have to do and you’ll go straight to heaven.  Well, satan believes in God and Christ.  He knows they’re real.  Still think belief is enough?

The Clothespin Nazi

Karate Boy’s school uses a color coded method for behavior.  In their system, green is good, black is bad, and in between there’s yellow, blue, and red, in that order.  Each child has a clothespin with their name on it, and when they misbehave they have to move it down a color.  Last year Karate Boy’s clothespin sayted on green, pretty much all year.  He had one red, and a few yellows, but not over 5 days all year off of green.  He was crowned, “Student of the Month” the second month of school, and at every conference his teacher had nothing but positive things to say.  At the first one, she told me, “I wish I had a classroom full of Karate Boy’s”, and I teared up.  It was what every parent wanted to hear.    He loved school, and I thought we were in for smooth sailing for the next few years. 

Back to school night we found out that there were only a handfull of kids from his kindergarten class in his first grade class, and nobody he was really close to.  However, I knew he would’t have any trouble finding his niche.  First grade started 3 weeks ago, and since that time his daily behavior chart has became more colorful.  The first week found the greens peppered with just as many yellows.   The problem seemed to be talking, which he gets honestly.    When I asked questions, such as who he was talking to and if they also got in trouble, Karate Boy always told me the others never got in trouble, only him.   Not wanting to be one of, “those” parents, who think that every teacher is picking on their kid, I convinced myself that KB, in his quest to make new friends, was always initiating conversation at innaproporiate times. 

The next week found us having the same problem.  There was an incident involving the decibal level of Karate Boy’s whisper.  His teacher said,  ”If I can hear you, it’s not a whisper.”  before directing him to move his clothespin.  The next day there was another involving him talking to someone in the bathroom.  Apparently there is no talking in the bathroom, even if the someone you are talking to is a former classmate and your best friend, who’s first grade teacher does allow talking in the bathroom.  “What’s next”  I thought, and laughed inwardly at the mental visualization of his teacher saying, “If the person in the next stall hears you pass gas, it’s too loud, and you will have to move your clothespin* ”.  By the end of the week KB’s behavior chart had more colors than a gay pride bumper sticker. 

Friday he came home and his square for the day was colored green, with blue over it.  I was confused and prodded KB for information, and what I found out made me very angry.  They had computers, then recess last thing that day, so they colored their squares right before computers.  After coloring their squares they were asked to put their chairs on top of the table, as they wouldn’t be in the classroom any more that day.  KB saw his classmate Claire struggling to get her chair on top of the table beside him.  He asked her if she needed help, and because this task was supposed to be done silently, he was reprimanded for talking.  As a reward for his chilvary, he was forced to move his clothespin straight to blue and miss part of his recess.  An action some teachers might have praised or even rewarded, his punished him for. 

Now I can’t help but be one of, “those” parents, and since speaking to some of KB’s other teachers, I’m convinced of the possibility that KB is being picked on.  I don’t want him to be wrongfully labeled a “problem child” in our small school, with it’s close knit teachers, that label could follow him for the rest of his school years.  I also don’t want him to stop liking school.  That could make the next 11 years miserable for us all.    Therefore, after spending the weekend brooding over the events, J and I planned to set up a meeting  to talk to The Clothespin Nazi soon. 

This week is starting off much better, with 2 greens in as many days.  Maybe a face to face meeting won’t be necessary.

* Editors note:  As I was typing this post, Liz, who commented first on this post, posted a status update on facebook that her first grader got in trouble, and moved to blue, for “passing gas”.

Who Says You Can’t Go Home?

“Sandy Jones is in a relationship”, my facebook updates read. 

“Holy Crap?  , What?, Omigod, With who?”, My mind raced.  I’ve known Sandy all my life, as we have attended church together.  She is 5 years my senior, and we’ve always been good friends.  Sandy can best be described as introverted, kind, sweet, good with children, shy.  Too shy.  So shy that in the 31 years that I have known her, I have never known her to be, “in a relationship”.

A few days prior to reading about Sandy’s new status, we had chatted on facebook about my state of unrest at our church.  She offered her support, and was willing to lend an ear her eyes and fingers to console me.  She told me she missed us, she offered to take over some of my responsibilities until I made a decision about my future.  My children have always been special to her, and she often helps me out in a babysitting bind when she is available.  When we logged off of chat that night she asked me to hug my boys for her, and it hurt me to read that.  Up to that point I had been thinking of my unrest, and unhappiness as something that affected only me, and that by leaving I would be making my life better, not about how I would be hurting other people.  For the first time I felt a huge tug to come back, but I still held so much resentment. 

Days later, as I sat at my desktop, reading the 3 little words that Sandy was now using to describe herself, “in a relationship”, I thought of all the things had missed and I would continue to miss.  Sure, I realized in the beginning that I would miss some people, but I was so miserable that I really didn’t care.  As I checked out Sandy’s new boyfriend’s profile, giving him my seal of approval, as if it mattered, I knew what to do for the first time in months.  There were no tears, just the knowledge that I had to go back, and soon.  For the first time in months there was peace in my heart.  There was no more resentment, no more being uptight upon thinking about stepping foot in my church, no more desire to see if the grass is truly greener.  Only guilt for some remarks I made to a prospective visitor. 

The next Sunday, one week ago today, we went back, and it really and truly felt good.  We said goodbye to our former pastor and welcomed our new one, both of whom I adore.  I have been fortunate enough to spend time with our new pastor’s family over the past week and it has been nothing short of wonderful.  Our kids really enjoy each other’s company, as do the adults.  I have came to the realization that I have made the right decision, without a doubt, and it blows my mind to think that I could’ve missed the opportunity to get to know this wonderful family, (and to get the dirt on Sandy’s new boyfriend.)

I’m Baaaaack…….

Apparently, the way to turn your neglected blog into a sorely neglected one is to concoct a plan to encourage posting.    It’ll keep you away like the plague, or the swine flu, or something like that.

The church issue is still the hotbed topic around these parts.  After making my decision to try something new, I did just that, only my something new has been staying away from church altogether.  It’s been nice, not having to go anywhere, do anything, sleeping in.  I’m enjoying my only day off of the week, with complete freedom. 

The thing is, I don’t feel comfortable going back to “my” church, and I’m way too chicken shit aprehensive to take that step.  The step that puts me in unfamiliar territory, with unfamiliar people, where I may or may not be accepted, where I may not be, “good enough”. 

To compound those fears, I sometimes feel something pulling me back to “my” church.  I have recieved support from many of my church friends, making me long to go back.  I have also recieved  some that drone on about history and roots, that imply, that I will be letting my ancestors down by leaving.  I know the senders mean well, and they love me, but it bothers me that they imply that my decision to do what is best for me and my family is disapointing a bunch of people in a graveyard. 

The past few weeks have gone like this:  Get letter of support, from a person that I really miss:  Decide to go back.  Get “guilt trip” letter:  Get pissed:  Remember why I decided to leave in the first place:  Vow to quit being chicken shit and try new church next Sunday:  Sunday comes and I sleep in.  In short, I’m still seeing signs leaading me in both directions, and I don’t know which ones are the ones for me. 

One of the biggest signs has been some new songs by my second favorite artist, Brad Cotter.  One is called, “I’m Looking For A Church” and is about finding somewhere that you can worship, and be happy.  The other, entitled, “Let Me Believe” is about having faith in something bigger than yourself in an uncertain world, and pulling yourself up by your bootstraps when the need be.  I plan on posting the lyrics soon. 

The boys have been going to some children’s activities at, “our” church, and when I go to pick them up, I’m uncomfortable, and bitter, and tense, and even angry, and I can’t get out of there fast enough.  Weeks have gone by without spiritual fulfilment, leading me to feel empty inside.  I still have no idea what to do.  I’m still asking for a sign, only now I would request that it be of the flashing neon variety, one that says:  “Alyson, do this: (insert specific directions here), Love, God”

Church: An Update

The first Sunday of my newfound freedom didn’t go as planned.  We ended up going to J’s sister’s church.  They were having a special graduate recognition dinner and our neice was involved.  We decided to try again this past Sunday, when our boys would be at J’s sister’s house. 

You know what they say about good intentions……..Sunday morning we took advantage of not having kids in the house and not having anywhere to have to go and we slept…….until 10:30.  This coming Sunday we have other plans, so I have no idea when or if we will actually check out other churches. 

To make things harder, I’ve been getting emails and cards from church, making me a bit homesick.  Karate boy has made comments about, “our church”, and we recently met our new pastor and his family and it was a wonderful experience.  Our kids played together and had a wonderful time.  In short, I’m mega-confused.

Blogland Idol

I’m totally stealing this from moonbeam, but I mentally write posts all day in my head, most of which never make it to the screen.  Hell, hardly anything makes it to this screen anymore, which is why I’m instituting Blogland Idol, in an effort to make some of those posts actually make it to the small screen.  Vote for your favorite, and I’ll make an attempt to post it soon.

1. I Hear Soft Drinks
2. That’s Going To Leave A Mark:  Getting Ink’d The Mail Carrier Way
3. Dear Fat:
4. A yet to be named post which is a fictional story using as many Bon Jovi song titles as possible
5. Put That Back:  What Karate Boy Pulled Out Of My Purse At The Most Inconvenient Time

I Think It’s Love

Since having kids, and consequently no money, vehicles have became something that I could care less about.  As long as it has 4 wheels and gets me where I’m going, I couldn’t care less about outward appearances.  Well….a CD player is a must, as is air conditioning, but besides that, I really don’t care.  My current ride is a 2000 silver Dodge Caravan, which I have been driving for the past 7 years.  It now has nearly 170,000 miles, makes a really bad squeking noise, has exterior parts that are held on with zip ties, you can’t roll the drivers side window down, or it will get stuck, and an inaccurate clock.  (ok, that last one is entirely operator error, but I can never remember how to set the damn thing).  Despite all these things that are wrong, it does have a few things that are right.  It’s paid for, and the CD player and air conditioning work. 

J keeps talking about replacing the minivan, and asking what I want to get next, wanting to go on test drives.  I keep putting it off.  I’m in no hurry, or at least I wasn’t.  I hate making decisions.  I also hate wasting time, and as I planned to drive the van until it died, I saw no point in wasting my time, or the time of a car salesman.  I didn’t know what I want, with the kids growing up and running around with friends, I was even considering another minivan, or a gas-saving sedan.  It seemed there are too many choices and nothing that really stood out. 

That all changed Satruday while I was at work, when I met Blue Chevy, last name  Trailblazer, freshly bathed and pulling out of a car wash.  It was love at first sight. 

Isn’t he handsome? 

One look was all it took, and I was hooked.  I knew what I wanted next time around.  Looks aren’t everything though, and Chevy fails to live up to my budget or gas mileage standards, also with a 5 person capacity I don’t know if he will meet my needs in the immediate future.  However, all hope is not lost, as my brother in law is a Chevy salesman. 

I still plan on putting off my decision for as long as possible, and I hope the silver mom-mobile will stay with us for at least the next year and a half or so.  After that time Sir-Sweats-Alot will be in school and our budget will see some relief from childcare expenses.  However, when it does bite the dust, I have a better idea of what will take it’s place on my side of the carport.

Where I Stand

If you’ve been around here very long, you are aware of  my views on gay marriage.  In the last few months, many of the blogs that I read, which are penned by heterosexuals, have broached the subject in both lighthearted and serious manners.  From the brilliance of these pieces, and others that I read on the subject, I had delusioned myself enough to think that the majority of America was pro-gay marriage.    Then I attended a work meeting, and whilst on the subject of our Christmas party a suggestion was made to have the event at a local restaurant that is owned by a gay man.  One of the older fellows in our office quickly vetoed that suggestion on the basis that he, “wasn’t supporting that pack of queers with his money”.  In that moment I realized that although I can keep my blinders on in my online community, it doesn’t work so well in the work enviornment.

When I thought about it, my views aren’t in sync with my chruch enviornment either.  According to one of my former pastors, Methodism’s take on the subject is, “hate the sin, love the sinner”.   Personally, I don’t believe homosexuality is a sin, or a choice, and in debating the subject with my church friends, I am often the odd man out.

Same goes for abortion.  In many of our monthly women’s group meetings, most of the members make their anit-abortion stance known to all.  My personal feelings on the issue are, although I could never do it myself, I believe in the right to chose.  One of my best friends, with whom I attend church, volunteers at a local pregnancy crisis center, and is often campaigning for financial and spiritual support for their mission, which is basically to keep babies from being aborted.  Last year I attended their fundraising banquet with her, thinking maybe I could see what I was missing.  Even after hearing stories of their clients, who are as young as 11, I still find myself on the fence.   I’ve seen the outcome of teenagers, or maybe even pre-teens raising babies, and heard the stories of newborns being found in dumpsters, and I just don’t know if  babies raising babies is a much better fate than abortion is.  A viewpoint I keep to myself in most circles. 

When thinking about these things, I can’t help but wonder, am I in the wrong religion?

Time Flies When You’re Loving Bon Jovi

So, who here remembers exactly where they were 20 years ago?  April 8, 1989 at 9:00 p.m.  Anyone?  I do……..this is the exact date of my first Bon Jovi live show.

I remember very vividly watching Dial MTV and going ga-ga over Jon Bon Jovi in the presence of my mom’s best friend.  She told me that the band was coming to Carbondale, IL , about 2 hours north of us, soon and that if my mom would allow, she was planning to take me.  The previous Christmas I, along with every other kind in America, had gotten the New Jersey album, on vinyl, and the Christmas before that I had gotten my first Jovi album, Sllippery When Wet.  I considered myself a fan and was excited about not only seeing Bon Jovi, but witnessing my first ”real” concert. 

My mom graciously allowed me to go, and to pay for my ticket, which was good because being the ripe ol’ age of 11 my only income up to that point came from my weekly $1 allowance and the tooth fairy, and I’m quite sure I had all my permanent teeth by then.  She and her friend even travelled to the venue to wait in line for tickets on the on-sale day.  I was on pins and needles waiting for them to get home with the tickets.  I spent the day listening to local rock station’s DJ’s promoting the show, and day dreaming of my mom and her friend returning with front row seats.  

Once the tickets were secured, it seemed to take forever for Saturday, April 8 to roll around.  I became even more estatic when MTV declared Sunday April 9, “Bon Jovi Sunday”.  It would be a complete  Jovi-weekend. 

The morning of the show I was estatic, and after getting a fresh new haircut, as well as t-shirt money and earplugs from my parents (only one of which would be utilized), we were Carbondale-bound. 

After arriving at the venue, we were warned by a parking lot preacher of the dangers  of  listening to the devil’s music and being told we were going to hell if we went inside, we took our chances and entered anyways.  And after purchasing a white tee with Jon’s pic on the front and the tour dates on the back, (ear plugs, I don’t need no stinkin’ ear plugs, we took our seats.  Although the ticket stub was misplaced years ago, I still recall that they were in Section G Row 13.  For my fellow Jovi fans they were on Alec’s side on the first set of risers, 13 rows up.  Excellent seats, with a great view of the catwalk where Jon came out into the crowd.  After suffering through * the opening act, Skid Row, it was finally time for Jon and the boys to hit the stage. 

The lights went down and the crowd came up, out of their seats.  The guys began playing, “Lay Your Hands On Me”, but Jon was nowhere to be seen.  Finally, he popped up out of the stage, in a blast of pyro, just like in the video.  For the next 2 hours the guys gave the crowd $18.50 worth and then some, playing all the hits, and getting closer to the fans in the back by spending alot of time on the catwalk. 

The passing of 2o years have blurred the details of that night.   I can’t remember what the guys wore, the order of the setlist, or what obscure or cover tunes were performed, however, I will always remember the event that made me more than a fan, converting me to membership in Johnny’s church of rock and roll.  

In the 20 years since that night alot has happened.  Jon and I have both gotten married.  “Cheap” Jovi tickets are now $120, rather than $20 for great seats, and are secured via the internet rather than at the venue.  The members of the band probably wouldn’t stop in Carbondale to take a piss now.  For my first Jovi experience I couldn’t drive, later I would transport myself to the shows in Missouri, Ohio, and Kansas in my green Grand Am.  Now days I venture no further than Nashville in my trusty minivan.  (For anything further I rent a car).  My mom, remembering how tight money is with 2 little ones, still gives me souvenier money when I go to a show, and I still have that first Jovi shirt, now way too small, and threadbare from the years of washing it endured back in the 80’s and 90’s.  It will always have a place of honor in my Bon Jovi collection.  Yes, alot has definitely changed in 20 years, but I think it’s now safe to say that my “obsession” never will.

 

*No offense to the Skids.  I actually ended up really liking them a few months later, just didn’t care for them much in the moment.