Tough Mudder

Lets take stock of me. 
Dirt is imbedded in my feet.  I don't know how long I will have to soak them before they are truly clean.  I have one blister on the back of one foot which is remarkable because both socks kept working themselves down and would bunch up under my toes.  My left leg has two pink bruises on the lower leg, many scratches on the knee, a speckled egg bruise on the knee and three bigger, bluer bruises on my thigh.  The right leg does not look much better.  There is a three part bruise on the left side of my lower ribs.  My arms have just a few bruises and no cuts or scratches.  I am sunburned across the back of my neck.  I am also sunburned on my forehead.  Every muscle that I can feel is screaming at me when I make a move.  Once I get moving, I feel okay, but it takes a long time to get moving. 
How did I get like this?
I signed up for Tough Mudder in October of 2012.  I had over nine months to train.  I bought one exercise series, one pilates machine, one trial gym membership and one gym renewal.  I did not train for more than two weeks consecutively or more than eight weeks total.  I did lose six pounds that I have kept off. 
Yesterday, July 20, 2013, my over nine months had come and gone and it was go time.  I seriously contemplated every conceivable scenario that would get me out of where I was at 11:15 on Saturday.  But as luck would have it, there I was under a giant inflatable start line getting ready to participate in the physical challenge of my life.  I was very surprised that I did not feel like I was going to throw up but was just eager to get started! 
Tough Mudder is a, depending upon the location, 10-15 mile obstacle mud challenge.  This particular challenge was at Somerset Amphitheater in Wisconsin.  The terrain was natural and was all hills until the end.  The natural terrain was dusty and sometimes rocky.  There were low tree stumps and stalks that had to be manuevered around.  This was no walk in the park, so to speak.  The obstacles had names like Artic Enema and Berlin Walls.  At the end is another giant inflatable, this one saying finish, a table of t-shirts, headbands and beer. 
I got to this spot because, well it seemed like a good idea at the time.  Danny had ran two Tough Mudders.  Jacob wanted to run when he turned eighteen, which was this year.  Hayley thought that if Danny and Jacob were doing it, it would be fun to do it, too.  That lead to Hayley wanting it to be a family thing, so Ashlyn signed up.  Ashlyn almost didn't make it having arrived from South Africa a day and a half prior.  Not wanting to be left on the sidelines, I said "what the hell."  And because Brett is already considered family, he got his registration for Christmas from Danny and me.
So back to yesterday and all that happened that has left me a bruised and beat up girl.  Before the challenge even began, the participants had to climb over wall.  9Us gals have very little upper body strength so all 'pull yourself up' activities quickly became 'Danny and Brett hoist us up' activities0.  Climbing over the wall gave me the inner thigh bruises, there would be a few more walls that would add to the bruises, but I kinda liked that blood was spilt (internally) right from the get go! 

We started out jogging as a group, but I knew that I wouldn't be able to last.  There is a mental wall that has been built that separates me from running and jogging.  I am happy to walk for miles and miles, but ask me to run and my lungs set themselves on fire.  We walked most of the eleven mile course.  Sorry about that.

The obstacles were pretty creative and for the most part, pretty fun.  There were seventeen obstacles and I was successful in all that I attempted except one.  I opted out of three, one of which I now sort of regret. 

Kiss of mud was an easy, peasy low crawl through the mud with barbed wire gridded high above one's head.  We all came out of that happy and muddy! 

That feeling quickly changed as we approached the Artic Enema.  Folks, I have been cold before but never, ever like this.  A MWA roll off dumpster was filled with ice water.  And by ice water, I mean that ice cubes were floating happily in this at 11:30 on a summer's day.  The water probably went up to my chest, I honestly don't remember.  I was the first to slide in and quickly made it to the board that was hanging just below the water's surface.  I had to go completely under but just for a moment.  That was all okay.  It was the nearly impossible task of taking a breath after I brought my head out of the water that set me into a minor panic.  I kept my hand on the side of the dumpster and got to the end.  I am pretty sure that Danny boosted me out and I am pretty sure I was going to go head first out of that.  I think a fellow Mudder righted me and I hit the ground.  We were fortunate to have a sunny day and we warmed up as we moved on.  That was one obstacle that I would have liked to have seen a volunteer to two at the end to rescue people like me.

The easy ones had us climbing hay bales and over and under logs.  We shimmied down some culverts and shimmied back up the other side.  We low crawled through some water, we ran through some water, we low crawled through some more water.  We laid on our backs in water and pulled ourselves along a chain link fence suspended overhead.  We climbed over piles of mud and slid into pools of muddy water only to climb over piles of mud to slide back into pools of muddy water.  Jacob had a blast in this one, called Mud Mile #2.  He practically swam in the pools.  He was amazed at how buoyant he was in the muddy water.  Jacob, except for the center of his face, was covered in mud after that obstacle. 
I chickened out of Trench Warfare which was four trenches dug out of the ground and shallowly filled with water.  Above the trenches were grids of barded wire and hanging from the wire were wires with electric current running through some.  Danny gave me that look, but I knew I didn't want to do this.  The last obstacle is also a shocker, with the wires hanging down and the Mudder running through them.  I opted out of that one as well, though I regret that.  The other one I opted out of was a series of six wide trenches that one simply had to jump over.  This one screamed injury and I was not going to risk a compound fracture or even a twisted ankle at this point in the challenge.  I don't have any regrets about skipping that one. 
The Berlin Walls were two walls, 12 feet high that had to be climbed over.  I was the first to go.  One of the Mudder volunteers showed us an easy way.  He took a knee against the wall and I put one foot on his leg and the other on his shoulder.  He stood up and I went up the wall.  I was able to grab the top and with a lot of pushing from below, was able to get my legs over.  The problem was I didn't know what to do once I got to the top.  I hung on for a moment, knowing that I had to let myself go easily and land in a way that I could absorb the impact without getting hurt.  Unfortunately, upper body strength gave out, fingers lost their grip and I took the most ungraceful fall of the day.  Hayley was on the other side of the wall and she watched my fingers slide past the boards.  Ashlyn watched me hit and figured I had injured my back especially when she watched me gingerly walk off the course towards the emergency gator.  I did not hurt my back but landed on my knee ala THOR and thought I had wrecked it.  But I bounced back, did not do the second wall and walked it off. 
I also successfully walked off a lower calf cramp that really wanted to form, but no, no, no.  Not in my leg!
The obstacle that I am most proud that I overcame was the big Wheaties advertisement.  I can't find the name of the obstacle so I am going to possibly make up the details as well as the name.  On the back side, we climbed up some two by fours to the top of a platform.  The top of the platform must have been 15 feet above a 12 foot pool of muddy water.  These are guesses based on how high Ellis high board was when Ashlyn and Hayley were 9 and 7.  Anyway, the Mudder in front of me had a change of heart and decided not to jump.  I think she stood too long at the edge and got overwhelmed.  I totally get that.  I did not stand at the edge but just went for the jump.  It was a long way down and seemed like I was under water for ever.  I have a tendency to release my air too soon and got a little panicky as I was coming up.  I didn't open my eyes since the water was a murky brown anyway.  But had my hands pointed north and push kicked like a son of a bitch.  I knew Danny was already out of the water because he had to jump before me.  I put a lot of undue pressure on him as I always expect him to be there to save my life if needed.  When I came up, I locked my focus on the rescue diver that was in the waters edge and I swam to shore.  I didn't panic and I got out of that water ecstatic. Watching other Mudders jump in gave me a real sense of accomplishment.  That was exactly the kind of obstacle I would have wimped out of because I wouldn't have believed I was strong enough.  (Wimping out the of the shock ones was purely because I was a puss).
It took our completely untrained group of six four and a half hours to travel eleven miles and seventeenish obstacles.  I had to stop a couple of times to catch my breath, to convince myself to push myself up the hill, to fix my sock.  Hayley also had sock issues.  The rest of the group kept moving.  Jacob and Brett would have liked to have ran more and for that, I am sorry, but they knew going in that I was going in as well!  Danny was able to avoid the shoulder fatigue at the cargo net obstacle because three of our team were taller than him and held the net above his head.  He was able to complete the monkey bars but his face showed extreme duress.  Brett and Jacob also completed the monkey bars.  Hayley got a few bars out there and dropped right in front of Ashlyn who didn't make it quite as far.  I just jumped in the water and swam across! 
Crossing the finish line gives one a head band, t-shirt and if 21, a cold beer.  Crossing the finish line gave me a pretty huge sense of accomplishment.  I asked myself to do a few things that I didn't want to do.  I was not as strong as most, or as fast as most, or as fit as most.  But I have a head band that most don't have.  I am a Tough Mudder.
　





3.Glory Blades inverted walls climbed braces

4.King of the Mountain hay bale

5.Trench Warfare electric shock

6.Boa Constrictor tube down water in middle crawled back up

7.Cliffhanger

8.Mud Mile #1

9.Hold Your Wood

10.Log Jammin’

11.Mud Mile #2

12.Warrior Carry

13.Cage Crawl

14.Walk the Plank

15.Berlin Walls

16.Everest

17.Funky Monkey

18.Electroshock Therapy

What Happens in Vegas

Nothing really happened in Vegas.  Surprisingly, it was not our kind of town.   I think it was a combination of heat, ridiculous pricing and that slot machines are no longer slotted for real money.  Don't get me wrong, we had a good time, Danny and I on vacation equals good time.  It just wasn't the greatest time.  And there were many moments when I would look at the family from Germany or Brazil or some other fantastic vacation place and think "what the hell are you doing here?"  and "is this really the best we have to offer the vacationers of the world?"  Danny reminded me that they probably had just been to California and that people tend to appreciate home a little more after they have been on vacation. 
The main purpose of our trip was to see the Gillott's dance.  The Gillott's are Danny's sister and family.  The dancers are Morgan, Maddie and Jayse.  They have been dancing for always and we have never seen them in fancy costumes with lighting and such so with Morgan moving on to other adventures, this was our window.
Impressive, definitely impressive.  It was clear the work and passion that goes into being this involved in anything, be it dancing, sports, chess etc.  Well chess doesn't require costume changes.  Anyway, impressive and not at all something the White family of WDM would have succeeded at.  I take that back, we would have succeeded at it.  We are pretty awesome.  It is just hard to imagine us in that role. 
Certainly, Danny and I would have traveled the world in support of Ashlyn and Hayley's pairs gymnastics if they would have just stuck with it.
Anyway, back to Vegas.  Did you know that they get only four inches of rain a year, but six inches of vomit and 7.5 inches of boobie cards.  Speaking of boobie cards.  Not all are the same size (cards and boobs) so you cannot make your own 52 count deck of cards.  That is why Jacob did not get a Vegas deck of cards souvenir.  
Shopping is plentiful on the strip and we did a fair amount of 'just looking'.  I found the shop keepers to be very nice even though they could tell that I was not going to purchase their wares.  We chatted with the Rolex dealer, I had some questions about the watch that went to the bottom of the ocean on James Cameron's sub.  The watch guy, (I think that's what they are called) made the comment that there was not a big call for Rolex's in Iowa.  I held back (way back) and did not create an incident, but oh, my little Midwest manners were working overtime.  True though, there is not a lot of call for a $12,000(0) time piece in Iowa or any other place in the world (except the Marian Trench). 
The lovely lady at the Burberry store did not know that college students from Iowa could dress in attire other than overalls.  Personally, I don't think she knew where Iowa was.  I (and I was nice) explained to her that the great state of Iowa has two major universities (no offence UNI) that have huge international populations.  I also educated her on the fact that Iowa State invented the computer and the rice crispie bar.  There is no other university in the nation that has made a contribution to society greater than that.  Individually, sure, but when you combine BAM!
Plenty of homeless people in Vegas, or at least that is what the sheet of cardboard said.  I am not very sympathetic to the people in general and to people who can get a job in specific.  If you want me to give you spare change (1) then don't yell at me (2) don't have really bid dogs near your change cup (3) don't sit there all freakin day and don't do a damn thing to improve your lot in life.  They, like the slot machines got none of my money.
Vegas is now checked off the list.  There is no plan to return.  We didn't hate it by any means, there is just a long list of other places and other faces.  Besides, its obvious what happened in Vegas didn't stay there, I'm telling you all about it now.

Made In Germany

Today is my son's 18th birthday.  He is my youngest child so for all intents and purposes, I'm done.  I can wash my hands of him and kick him to the curb.  Unfortunately, I would also be required to kick his odd assortment of things to the curb with him and that just isn't a job I care to tackle.
Yesterday, prior to leaving for work, Jacob announced that when he returned home, he would be an adult.  That statement, though true on paper, will not be true in my eyes for a very long time.  If ever.  I am not ready to let go of this boy of mine.
Jacob Lee wa born on a sweltering July day.  He didn't really give me too much trouble entering the world and had we been in an American medical facility, I think I would have looked upon the labor and delivery with a little less annoyance.  The Germans wanted Jacob and I to stay a week.  We thought otherwise and I signed a paper that I have no idea what it said and home we went.  Home was a three bedroom apartment in military housing.  The neighbors, Silvia, Daniel and Dustin came up to see him.  Danny was on leave.  This expanded family settled down to getting to know each other. 
Jacob was a better baby than the girls.  Being better than Ashlyn would be a label I could give to a monkey for as horrible as that girl was, but that is another story.  Jacob was content.  He liked to eat, he liked to sleep more and he liked to watch the big black dog most.  There were a great many nights that getting Jacob to eat was a challenge because Liesl was in the room.  She usually just needed to give him a good once over and then she would lay down and Jacob would eat.  As he grew, Liesl and he were good friends.  I wish he could remember that dog, the way she loved him to the point where the lines were blurred and she forgot her place.  But that is another story, one I don't care to tell.
Jacob spent his little guy years in Bad Kissingen, Germany.  He was a great traveler by car and train, backpack and stroller.  He was happy to be along for the ride.  At six weeks, he was sight seeing in Salzburg.  Over the next three years, there would be more trips to Salzburg, Paris, Amsterdam, Prague and Bolzono.  Very little of his Germany years have stayed with him.  I hope that when he goes back (back to the Motherland) something will look familiar, something will make his heart twinge just a little.
Not much was required of Jacob.  His sisters were always tending to his needs.  Words did not come to him for a long time because he didn't need to speak.  A hand gesture and a piece of cheese appeared.  Jacob was a regular fixture at the girls' school while volunteered there.  Everyone knew him and I could leave him with the 2nd grade teacher for half the day.  Jacob would settle in with dinosuars and some cookies.  He would take off his shoes and happily play while class went on around him. 
Jacob moved to the United States, Iowa, Cedar Rapids when he was three.  He moved to West Des Moines when he was five and has called West Des Moines home ever since. 
I have written about Jacob before, about his antics and his infuriating ways.  I have described him in various ways and have described myself as very fortunate to be his mom.  And I am.  Jacob is his own man.  He is of his own mind and though he changes that mind from time to time, his core beliefs are true and straight.  I envy that in him.  There are those that don't get him, that don't get his quick wit and dry sense of humor.     I get him.   Most of the time. 
Jacob tried his hand at wrestling, but wasn't driven enough to win if it meant that his opponent might cry.  He played soccer a couple of summers, but that, too wasn't his thing.  Being born in Europe does not make loving soccer or futball automatic.   Jacob used to draw a lot.  There is an entire world of creatures, good and evil, in a storage box under a bed.  I used to draw when I was little.  Mine creatures resembled Snoopy.  We differed there.
Honestly, the years are a blur of Jacob growing up.  I didn't see enough or do enough or slow things down enough to not feel like I missed out on so much.  I think most parents feel that way.  Most wish to turn back some of the time, or at least slow it down a smidge.  If only to savor one more hug. 
So here he is, eighteen.  He is a man.  He is a man who discovered the wheel and built the Eiffel Tower out of metal and brawn. That's what kind of man  he is.  (Thank you Anchorman for providing that accurate description of men everywhere.)  There is one more year of high school and then, then he is off.  He is.
But I am quite certain that there is a part of Jacob that will never be far from me.  That part that loves a mom like only a son can.  That part that makes sure I am ok.  I think about the storms that I have had in my adult life, well at least in the last 18 years, and so often Jacob has been the calm.  Never demanding more than I could give, he gave the hugs, the quiet movie nights, the "it'll be ok, Mom". 
I don't think I have done a very good job of letting Jacob know how incredibly proud I am of him.  How much I have enjoyed being his mom.  I don't think I have made it clear to him that I believe he is capable of anything.  And I do mean anything! 

Happy Birthday America

I love the Fourth of July, I love all that it represents.  Family, food, parades, fireworks (as I write this I can hear two different grand finales going off) but mostly, it represents freedom.  I don't know a whole lot about our nation's history.  I don't know the details of what ever caused a group of terrorists, by definition, to flip the bird to King George and decided to make this ours.  I know what most know, that there were taxes and tea and redcoats and men in wigs.  I know that a few men had some pretty great ideas.  Those ideas got put to paper and well, here we are 237 years later, still arguing about some of them.
Our nation has a 237 year history of doing pretty good most of the time but when we screwed up, it was in big and ugly ways.  And yet, the people of America, the United States citizens were usually able to get things right again.  They were able to come together and work together and, well, you know, make us all proud.
Where is that now?  I feel like this is a nation pitted against each other like pissed off women at a PTA meeting.  There is a lot of yelling and finger pointing and maybe a few finger snaps, but nothing is getting done.  It is embarrassing and shameful.  We are a nation of great wealth, of great minds and of huge hearts and yet, we cannot do much else but hate. 
I am a left wing republican.  I want marriage equality and I want to carry a gun.  I want lower college costs for many but a free ride for none based on their social-economic background.  I want welfare or SNAP or whatever clever name it is given to stop if it means that people can continue to buy $5.49 twelve packs of pop.  I want WIC broadened to make sure that little brains get the foods they need to succeed.  I want those same little brains to have access to good childcare while their moms and dads have jobs.  And if they don't have job then they have classes to take.  No more free rides, for anyone. 
It doesn't make a bit of difference to me if Obama was born in Hawaii, Kenya or the moon.  He has been president now for over five years now, a birth certificate won't change that.  Bitching about any of it won't change it, any of it.  
Can we get back to being a nation that was kick ass?  One that made the right decisions for its citizens?  Can we get to a place where flags fly year round, not just on four or five days a year, and those flags are made here. 

Prince Charming, Prince Eric and Prince Derek All Rolled Into One

It was a snowy night and Hayley was driving from Cedar Falls to West Des Moines.  For the record, Hayley should not drive from Cedar Falls to West Des Moines or vice versa in any type of weather unless it is a windless seventy degree day.  She is not known for her cool under pressure driving skills.  So long, tear filled, frantic texting story short, Hayley could not continue to drive home, and got herself to a parking lot after being pulled out of a ditch.
She did not call us to rescue her, but called a young man named Brett instead.  Brett, without a moment to spare, mounted his white stead and rode off into the sunset to rescue his fair maiden.  Well, he got in his vehicle and went to pick her up and brought her home.  That was the first we met Brett.
Brett has, in a very short time, become family.  I don't know if that is what he had in mind, but we didn't really give him the option. 
And if we were ever unsure about him, (and we weren't) he proved himself completely worthy of our Hayley two weeks in November.  There was a surprise birthday party for our dear friend Bernie and Brett brought Hayley down to Cedar Rapids for it.  He held his own while he met the sisters (my mom's sisters).  He gave hugs, answered questions and Hayley beamed with joy.  Shortly after that, our dear friend Bernie died.  And Brett brought Hayley down to Cedar Rapids again.  He stayed with her, with us, the entire evening and I thought how lucky we were to have Brett in our family. 
Now he and Hayley are shacking up.  They even got a kitty together.  He's in it for the long haul and I think he is up for the challenge.  Brett has ran the gauntlet of family get togethers.  He has been hugged by Sheila and didn't back away, but went right in!  He flew to Colorado to meet the other side and happily talked basketball with Uncle Awesome.  Then he rode in a car with sick Hayley from Denver to Council Bluffs.  Brett has put up with Jacob on his back.  He has taken Harlow slobber on the chin.  He has slept on the green couch and shared it with Sophie, Elsa and Emmitt. 
So Hayley, luckiest of them all, found herself a prince among men.  She found someone that is going to take care of her and keep her safe.  Someone that is going to put up with her and her desire for that fairy tale.  She found someone that is going to put up wth the rest of us as well.  And in turn, Brett got himself a Hayley.  Maybe he is the luckiest of them all. 

He Writes the Songs

So if you are a friend of mine on Facebook or were anywhere near me last weekend, then you know that Danny and I went to see Barry Manilow in concert.  At this point in my story, I would like to point out that I have loved Barry Manilow for a great many years and if you intend to bad mouth him in any way, stop reading.  Close this blog and go away from me for always.
Barry Manilow, at age seventy, was incredible.  He appeared to be genuinely humbled by the response of the audience.  Imagine having been an artist for forty years and still fill an arena and still bring people to their feet and still sing really good music.  I first saw Barry Manilow at the Five Seasons Center thirty years ago with my mom.  Thirty years later, I see him in the same venue with Danny.  As of right now, I have bookended my concerts.  And as I start my next shelf, I don't think that I will be so fortunate to see someone quite like him again (twice).  It's a Miracle. 
Barry Manilow played on the little black AM radio that Bobby had in the basement.  He (Bobby) would work on models and I would roller skate in what was once a huge (I was five) open area.  I had all of two tricks in my roller skating repertoire, I could skate forward and I could spin in a circle very similar (not really) to what Dorthy Hamil was doing on ice.  So you can imagine this little tow head hanging out with her big brother skating in circles to Could it Be Magic.  Do you know the song?  Well it is a beautiful love song with a huge sound at the 4:40 mark.  I skated my heart out.  It was magic.  I know, I was there.
By the third song, he had slowed it down so the old ladies could sit down and sway and I suppose, so he could take a break from the hip thrusts and gyrations.  No joke, he moves.  Granted the hips and knees may not be original but that doesn't matter.  It is, at this point, a hell of a show and we are nowhere near the biggies!
I had his greatest hits album, I wish I still did because vinyl is king.  Anyway, I knew all the words then and with Barry in the lead, I still know all the words.  I can't carry a note but who was going to hear me over the other six thousand singing along with me, Danny included.  For years, Danny wanted to surprise me with a trip to Vegas to see Barry Manilow, well Crapids is no Vegas, but it Looks Like We Made It to Barry after all.
Barry Manilow had a big screen center side in the rear.  The screen was filled with old album covers that he would talk about.  He had quite the band with a percussionist that never quit!  Two cute and bouncy backup singers and three or four pianos.  The back up singers had their work cut out during Can't Smile Without You because there is an echo quality to this song and we all echoed.  I have the video, you can hear me, horribly singing along and doing my very best to not kick my legs at the 2:29 mark.  I never quite mastered kicking my legs while on roller skates, but this song definitely inspired me to try.
Before playing Bandstand Boogie, he showed a clip of his first appearance on American Bandstand.  Do I age myself to mention this show and all that it meant to me on Saturday afternoons?   I watched that show religiously and would absolutely love to see that one on DVD.  This song is not a favorite of mine but it reminds me of the time he has put in this business and how long he has been a friend to me.
The Old Songs was not on the greatest hits album that I recall and I did not know this song as well.  It slowed the crowd down a little and I used it as an opportunity to really study the big screen to the left of the stage.  Barry was stretched pretty tight.  That work had been done was obvious but I don't think he was frightening little children like Kenny Rogers is these days.  He followed with Stay.
There were a few costume changes during the show.  Barry changed from one shiny jacket to another.  He rocked the look.  I wore an adorable floral skirt and azure tank.  I did not have a costume change during the show.
I don't know when I first got teary eyed.  Well, when Barry first came on stage, for sure.  But I don't think it was until Even Now that I got the way Hayley gets when she sees Brett Michaels in concert.  Laugh if you want, but this man was there for my entire childhood.  It wasn't until Duran Duran came into my life that I let him go.  But this concert proved that he never let us go.  He didn't come out and sing a bunch of stuff we couldn't sing along to, nope, he belted out the hits (not all of them, obviously) and let us all relive what ever it was.  I can only imagine the memories that all those people had tucked in their hearts- mine was mostly roller skating- but there had to be romance and heart ache and every emotion in between.  How cool that must be for him.
Barry talked about growing up in Brooklyn, how his grandfather used to take him to New York to record his voice on those little wax records, how the orchestra department saved him and how sad it makes him that the arts are being taken out of the schools.  It was at this point that he shared his vision of putting instruments back into schools and shared that he donates a piano to the school district of the city he is playing in.  True, he could donate a hundred pianos and still be alright, but he's putting his money where is heart is and that is cool.  He shared old photos of himself while singing Brooklyn Blues.  He followed the story of his grandpa with I Am Your Child.  Never a big hit, but oh, so touching. 
And then This One's For You.  Prior to the opening cords, Barry talked about good lyrics.  Man, these are good lyrics.  Just saying, if someone ever wanted to sing this one to me, well, that'd be ok by me. 
 This may be the second moment when I became pretty overwhelmed.  Most everyone had sat down for this one, but I just kinda stayed there in that moment.  And Danny, bless his heart, put his hand ever so gently on my back.  Because I had been in a real shitty mood for way too long and I got to get away from all of that for these two hours.  I got to go back to when it was possible to roller skate in my basement, when AM radio was still a thing, when all that was good was truly grand!
New York City Rhythm was Barry and backup singers big dance number.  Not really big, but it  showcased his backup singers and his band.  I would imagine that there is a pretty high degree of perfection expected from someone that has been around for forty years. 
Weekend in New England.  This was my other skate favorite.  The skate gets very dramatic at the 3:45 minute mark.  I didn't know where New England was, not a clue, but boy it seemed like the place to be.
Barry then talked about his songs of the decades albums.  I never really cared for them mainly because I loved his music and not necessarily other people's music.  He did a couple of Frankie Valley numbers and that was fun.  I think it was a gift to that generation of fans that filled his audience.  Lets Hang On and Can't Take My Eyes Off of You must have really stirred up some memories for those fans. 
Barry Manilow wrote a musical and it is opening in Atlanta and why we are not going to Atlanta is really beyond me.  He sang one song from Harmony - Every Single Day. 
And then there was Trying to Get the Feeling Again.  I sang back up on this one as well, I have the video.  There is no picture really, just sound.  Barry's timeless voice and mine.  High (high) Low (low).  Not much of a love song mind you, but damn, could you imagine trying to get that feeling.  Looking high (high) and low (low).  All for naught.  Naught, indeed.
I can't remember which song that Barry did a duet with himself.  Actual Barry left stage and they played a clip from an old show.  It was 1970's Barry on the piano and midway through the video, live Barry came out on the piano and the two of them did a duet.  It was so cool, so very cool.  Just a man and a legend singing a song.
The next song has always been one of my favorite car songs.  It is full of fullness and drama and this and that and all those things that are required on an open stretch of road.  Much like Meatloaf music, this is, for me, one of those songs.  I Made It Through the Rain is so pretty in the beginning.  It remains pretty but as the song plays on, it gets a little oomph.  I think it also reminds me of the songs that Kermit would sing.  Kermit and Barry, two old friends. 
And I am a hell of a singer in the car.  Danny did some fist clenching during this song.  He's made it through the rain as well.
And then those piano cords from Could it Be Magic (Damn why wasn't I named Melissa?).  Another skate classic.  I did not know at the time but a crescendo is very important for a basement roller skater.  This was followed by Mandy (Damn Damn Damn Damn (like Henry Higgens says) why wasn't I named Mandy like Hayley named her cat?).  I am quite certain that this was the one that brought the true roll down the cheek tears.  Why did he send her away?  Why have I never named a pet Mandy?  
And then Copacabana.  I SANG COPACABANA LIVE WITH BARRY MANILOW!  I have sang YMCA live with the Village People, but this, this has no compare.  Did you know that if I were Lola and Danny were my Tony, he would have disarmed Ricco with one of his kickass Ranger moves and then the punches would have flew.  Flew indeed my friends, with my Tony getting Lola in the end.  We would have kept the show going and would have still drank.  At the Copa, Copacabana.
Not as catchy of a lyric, but true story.
At this point in the concert I have come to accept that there will be no commercial montage, there will be no more songs from the decades (that's ok)  no Ready to Take a Chance Again but there will be I Write the Songs (which he did not write!).
This was the one, folks.  This is the Barry Manilow song for me.  It was a song I could sing along to, to skate to (see a theme) to be happy about.  I was six.  Except for Happy Birthday and Christmas songs, this is probably the song that I have really known all my life.  This song popped up over and over again in my life, always lifting me back to roller skates and top knots and Barbies and all that kind of stuff.  Good Lord, it was fantastic.  Can you imagine?  No, because what you imagine will only be a fraction, like 1/96 of how awesomely awesome it was. 
Since the concert, there has been frequent discussions about this show and others at work.  Several of the people I work with have no idea who Barry Manilow is.  And that makes me sad.  My kids are the same age and they know who he is, they know Lola's desperate fall into despair, they know that you have to look high and low to try and get the feelingagain, they know that New England is where it's at, they know because we let them listen.  Hell, we would have let them roller skate in the basement.  But these kids missed out on just really good music.  So when they ask (and they are always sorry that they do) I tell them
He writes the songs that make the whole world sing.  He writes of love and special things.  He writes the songs that make the young girls cry (pause for effect),
He is music and he writes the songs.

 

 

 

Kind of Like Therapy

Well, in nineteen days I will be participating in a 10 to 15 mile obstacle course that I have not trained for.  Oh, I planned to train, I started to train (12 times) but I did not train.  I did lose six pounds, but that does not an athlete make.
But Tough Mudder is the least of my problems.  There is something going on that I cannot figure out.  There is a blah that has come over me that I cannot shake.  I recently started taking SAM-e, a supplement that is among other things, meant to support mood.  I have been on it a week and I can't tell a difference.  I still feel blah.  I don't want a prescription for something stronger, that is a road I do not want to take.  If I cannot find the joy in myself, than I got problems.  And right now, I cannot sustain the joy.
All of my woes are little ones.  I have had the big ones, so I know the difference.  My girls are far away and I miss them.  I forget that I encouraged them to go, go, go.  And there is great joy for them, I just miss them.  I don't want them to come running back.  Not yet.  Maybe not ever.  I just didn't know I would miss them this much.  I wasn't prepared for this.
Jacob is almost 18.  There is a sadness there for me and such joy that we did it!  We raised another one successfully.  Bully!  And he is still home (I use the term loosely) for another year.  But I suspect this year, as it should be, will be filled with activities that don't involve or revolve around me. 
And then there's Harlow.  And maybe this is it.  Maybe when I get right down to it, maybe it is that undeniable fact that my big girl is getting old.  Slower to get up, slower to lay down.  Often unresponsive to my commands.  Yesterday brought four accidents.  Which means another trip to the vet, a long list of tests they would like to do and a lot of stress for my girl and me.  I am sad.  Because it wasn't until I started this paragraph that the tears came. 
I reread this blog and realize that just typing it helps my heart.  Helps me loosen the hurt that holds the joy.  I am at a point here in this lovely life of mine where change is inevitable.  I need to find the joy in that. 
Hey, thanks for listening.  I guess I have some work to do with this heart of mine.  Tough Mudder will come whether I am prepared or not so there is no point in stressing that.  And if I want to be honest, the rest of it will come whether I am prepared for it or not so there is no point in stressing that either.