Walking In Memphis

Remember this post? When I gnashed my teeth about the conflict between going to Memphis and my choir concert? Well, I stopped gnashing and wrote an email to the choir director saying I'd be unable to sing for the Christmas concert but I'd love to rejoin the group in January if it was alright with her. Her response? Sure! So much drama for nothing. That director sure plans to keep me on my toes with her unpredictable reactions.

Jay spent the week leading up to his marathon in Chicago for RSNA (Radiological Society of North America) conference and flew to Memphis from there so when I made the decision to go to Memphis, I planned on keeping it a secret and surprising him.

Well, that plan lasted all of two days when I blurted out my change of plans to a fellow choir member right in front of him. With the surprise botched, we made our plans for the weekend together. Obviously...the marathon was a big part of the weekend but we got tickets to see Graceland, the home of Elvis Presley, as well.

Thanks to the kindness of my friend, Michelle, and in-laws, Vaughn and Patty, who graciously watched my boys, I left for Tennessee early Friday morning. Jay and I flew into Memphis within a half hour of each other and picked up our rental car. It is the second time we were given a Chevrolet HHR.

I'm sorry, but that is one ugly car. If you have one, I have one question for you: How do you stand the little windows? I felt like I was driving around in a clown car. Still, it was nice to have the freedom that comes with having access to your own means of transportation.

That evening we went to the marathon expo, found a PEI WEI to eat at so Jay could carbo load, and figured out where the best spots might be for me to cheer on the marathon course.  I also finished Crow Lake by Mary Lawson.  I love flying because I almost always get to read a ton with all that uninterrupted boredom.  Great book!

Jay jogged down to the start line early Saturday morning and I slept for an extra hour because our hotel was right next to mile four and all I had to do was walk a few blocks to see him run by there around 8:30.  Right on schedule, the runners started coming.  First, I saw these elite runners:

They finished almost exactly like this too.  The finish was neck and neck.

I was right across the street from what is known as The Pyramid.  Memphis's name comes from a city in Egypt along the Nile.  Thus...the pyramid, I guess.

Not much long after, I spied Jay and his easy-to-spot-turquoise shorts.  As a near professional running spectator, I have learned to appreciate any effort made that makes my job of finding him easier.  These shorts do exactly that.  

After Jay ran by, I headed downtown to where I could see him at mile 13.  As I walked along some of the race course, I saw the hoards of marathoners and half-marathoners who were making their way along.  This was at about mile 3 and I was a little shocked to see so many participants already walking.  

Jay chose the Memphis marathon for a variety of reasons (timing, Saturday schedule, different state, positive reviews), but one was that it was a supposed flat and fast course.   He had a soft goal of breaking three hours and knew that he had a chance on this course.   He said he wouldn't consider it a very hilly course but every time I saw him, he was running up a hill.  At least, this is a hill in my book.

He made a turn into downtown and I walked two blocks to where I could see him at mile 14 and a half.  Again, another hill.  But, clearly, he's feeling good at this point.

Then it was wait time.   The finish line was in the city's minor league baseball stadium so I found a spot around first base close to the finish line.  At the 2:50 mark, I started to feel really nervous.   This was Jay's fifth marathon and you never know what's going to happen.  If he's going to hit a wall, or get hurt, or....whatever else can happen, you just don't know.  It's a frustrating sport to cheer for because they need your cheers (I think having me there helped) but you don't actually get to see them to cheer for them that much.  When the three hour mark came and passed, I felt bummed for him but also less anxious because now I wasn't willing him around that corner every passing second.

Only a few minutes later, those turquoise shorts appeared and he made his triumphant entry into the park.  I was so happy for him because he ran a great race.

His official time is 3:03:43.  He finished eighth in his age group and thirty-fourth over all.  Seriously proud of him!  And, for good or for bad, there will be other marathons to try and beat that three-hour barrier.  

Doesn't he look like he's having fun?

We walked the mile back to our hotel and I was impressed with how well he was doing physically.  He was less than impressed.  He said, more than once, "Shoot.  I feel too good.  That means I didn't run hard enough."  Whatever.  I was just happy that he felt good enough to spend the rest of the day out and about.  I know if I had just run 26.2 miles, I would not be saying, "O.K.  Let's go!" at anytime.  I'd be more likely to demand that someone carry me and rub my feet.

Once he was showered, we hopped in the rental box and drove to Graceland.  Yes, we did sing Paul Simon's song the entire way.  In fact, it's still stuck in my head. "Graceland, Graceland in Memphis, Tennessee, I'm going to Graceland.  Poor boys and pilgrims with families and we are going to Graceland."

I've never been a big Elvis fan but found a tour of his life and home fascinating.  Really fascinating.  You should definitely go should you ever been in the Mississippi Delta, that shines like a national guitar.  There I go again.

The front of the mansion, which is surprisingly kind of...well...modest.  I mean, it's a mansion and totally gaudily decorated as befits someone who is a star and can do whatever he wants with the place, but it also had a definite "home" feel to it.  Like it was obvious he enjoyed actually being there.

The living room. The entire home is permanently stuck in 1977.   Probably not the most fortunate year in terms of color and style to be remembered but Elvis certainly had fun with the trends of the time.

The kitchen.

The family room aka Jungle Room.  The ceiling is also carpeted in green shag.  

In the basement is his mirrored TV room.  He was so fancy he had three TV installed so he could watch the three networks all at once.

And this pretty room had the same fabric from the couches on the walls AND ceiling.

The stairs from the basement back to the jungle room.  Elvis really loved carpet and mirrors.  Or somebody who was a real smooth talker did.

The backyard of Graceland.

In the trophy room are all of his Gold Records.  He really had a lot of hits.

Priscilla and Elvis's wedding clothes.  

He got really into raquetball and had a court built that has since been converted to another museum of sorts.  It housed several of his (in)famous jumpsuits.  The suits are all cut exactly the same with the different embellishments setting them apart.  Replicas could be bought in the gift shop for a mere $1500, in case you were interested.

He is buried outside next to his parents, stillborn twin, and grandmother.

After our Graceland and surrounding grounds tour, we went and ate some of the best barbecue food I've ever had.   It was at a little hole in the wall called The Barbecue Shop and I'd never have gone in had I not read great reviews online.  Jay got their famous ribs but since I typically avoid eating meat that comes attached to bones, I ordered the pulled pork sandwich.  Yummo!

The we drove and drove and drove trying to find some University of Memphis basketball shirts or mementos for the boys.  I have found that when I have a specific thing in my mind that I want to buy, it is almost impossible to find.  We jokingly called it Our Quest.  We finally found some.  In a suburban strip mall that had a Sports Authority.  But we did get to see a lot of Memphis with all our driving!

T-shirts purchased, we headed back downtown to walk through a famous hotel next called The Peabody (think Davenport for you Spokane folks) and then walked down to famous Beale Street, where many famous musicians have come to hang out and play.  It also happened to be Drunk Santa night which wasn't really our scene.  So, we stepped into the Hard Rock Cafe and ordered dessert.

Self portrait on Beale Street.

A little Bob Dylan display that caught Jay's eye.  To the left of his head is the drum head used by Larry Mullen Jr. when U2 recorded several of the songs for their Rattle and Hum album at Sun Studios in Memphis, where Elvis, Johnny Cash, BB King and others recorded albums.  

I was so tired that night.  I was a little embarrassed to admit to Jay that my feet hurt since they had covered about 25 less miles than his but we made it back to the hotel and both crashed.  

Did you know that Memphis is right next to the Arkansas AND Mississippi state lines?  Well...I didn't but once I did, I was determined to include all three states in my weekend stop.  So, over the Mississippi river we went!

Such a magnificent river.

Now, we drove through West Memphis in Arkansas and stopped to buy a soda to legitimize our visit and that is one sad little town.  Wow.  That is poverty USA.

Next, we headed on over to Mississippi!

We filled our rental car up with Gas in this state to make it official and then headed back up to Tennessee and the airport.



It was a great, great trip.  Definitely the right decision to go and be with Jay instead of running around singing, "You're A Mean One, Mr. Grinch."  I think I had a smile on my face the entire weekend.  It was that fun.

Something's Missing

 Can you tell what it is?

This just may be the most anticlimactic first tooth loss in history.  We went out to eat on Saturday and as I was putting his seat belt around his booster seat, I noticed the gap on his bottom row.

"Where's your tooth?" I asked him.

He immediately felt for his tooth and then started giggling.  He said, "I guess it's in my hamburger!"  I didn't even know it was loose.  His other bottom tooth isn't.  Weird.

Isn't four WAY too young to lose a tooth?  He is almost five, but....but....well...he's Henry.  He's supposed to be delayed.  I guess his teeth are ahead of the curve.

Thanksgiving With The In-Laws

My sister-in-law, Peggy, said as she headed home after our Thanksgiving Break family reunion, "Be kind to us on your blog!"

I had no intention to be anything but kind.  After all, I happen to have some fabulous in-laws.  Not perfect in-laws.  As Peggy, the organizer of the event can attest to, getting them all together is no easy task and once together, coming up with a group plan has to be at least as challenging as designing those ever-mysterious traffic signal algorithms.  I'll take their quirks any day, however, because each of them also happens to be wonderful.  Good, kind, fun, helpful, dedicated people who make the world a better, brighter place with their efforts.  Lucky me.

Jay's younger sister, Kelly, was the first to arrive and we had the pleasure to have them stay with us.  Jay's other two sisters, Molly and Peggy, and their families arrived on Wednesday and we had a delicious dinner of bbq pork sandwiches prepared by my mother-in-law.

Thanksgiving morning included a five mile Turkey Trot.  It was a bitter cold morning with temperatures in the tens and only the bravest and fittest dared the run.

Adam was a baby when I started dating Jay.  Now he is a star runner who treated those five miles like they were child's play.

Kelly is not to be messed with.  She is fast and competitive and it's fun to watch her run.

Karin, my oldest niece, got married to Ben this summer and he is a delightful addition to the family.  I think he had a smile on his face the entire time he was surrounded by the other 38 of us and is just a good, good guy.  He also managed to smile when he was running even when he said there was no air to breath at our bruising 7,000 ft altitude.

Here's my favorite runner and his new turquoise shorts so that I can spot him while he runs the memphis marathon this weekend. 

All of Peggy's boys ran, but I missed their finish.  I got their mom's brilliant finish, however.

The brave runners.

The equally brave cheerers.  Sadly, cheering while freezing doesn't burn that many calories.

Jay's two other brothers arrived in time for Thanksgiving Dinner and we got all the cousins in order of oldest to youngest.

Here they are in one single line (minus Caden who is being held by Doug).

Another format.  From left to right:  Ben, Karin, Scott, Derek, Michael, Jacob, Adam, Delanie, Doug, Reese
Thomas, Seth, Erin, Creed, Sam, Matt, Brooke, Emily, Kate, Henry, Sara, Ethan and Caden

It isn't a get together with Grandpa unless a pinata is involved.

The boy cousins

And the much fewer girl cousins

Grandpa Vaughn, who is currently serving as President of the Monticello Temple, shares some of the history of the temple, as well as some of the miracles associated with it, one in particular known as "The Miracle of the Green Windows."

We joke about being the out-laws but we are all lucky women to have married such fine men.  From left to right:  (Stephanie (holding Caden  married to Clark), Patty (Vaughn Jr.), Bekki (Rex) and me with my new brunette locks.

Table 1

Table 2

Table 3

And Table 4 where Jay and I sat.

On Friday, we headed to the Monticello Temple for a meaningful moment to gather at the temple where Jay's parent's serve.  It was really something to see all of Jay's siblings and spouses in the same session, as well as Karin and Ben.  Later, all the youth twelve and older did baptisms with their father's as ordinance workers.

Jay's lovely sisters, Molly, Kelly and Peggy

The boys:  Vaughn, Rex, Clark and Jay

Here's all the kids and spouses in order of age.  We stood in order of age of sibling with Clark, the youngest, on the left and Vaughn, the oldest, on the right.  I was totally bending my knees so that I wouldn't be huge Lucy in the middle.

My in-laws.

Here, I attempted some photo merging.  Obviously, Jay is facing the wrong direction in this picture.

And Vaughn's eyes are closed in this one.

So, I did a photo merge on Vaughn and Molly's side.  It's not perfect but it's not bad.  I had to do some extra cropping because Vaughn ended up with three legs but it'd do in a pinch.

It was a great week and a nice break from school for the boys.  Now, it's time to gear up for Christmas.  I guess I better start shopping.  And decorating.  And getting Christmas cards ready.

Wait...let's go back and do this week again instead.  Yup.  I like my in-laws so much I'd do it all again.  How's that for kind, Peggy? ;-)

Smiles

9:30 AM smile

10 o'clock smile (albeit forced with the infamous lip stretcher)

10:45 smile

We went and got haircuts afterward to get rid of the au naturel ear muffs and I hardly recognize this boy anymore. I'm sure it won't last but he loves them right now. Thanks for the colorful smile Uncle Vaughn!

Book Review - Room

What really gets me excited about reading is when I come across a particular book that requires me, the reader, to think about something in a new way.   It's even better when the new perspective comes attached to a compelling story.

Room, by Emma Donoghue, could claim to be about a number of things.  I'm going to be one of those annoying reviewers who promises that the novel is best read with as little foreknowledge as possible, which is definitely true in this case but only for about the first fifty pages.  Unfortunately, that means I also have to keep my mouth shut about the other three-hundred that follow, but I think the lack of preview is worth it.

Ultimately, what I think Room is about, and what it as a novel does best, is deliver a unique lesson about perspective.  Those first fifty pages (or so) have our five year-old narrator, Jack, talking about objects and his surroundings and schedule in a room in a way that doesn't really make sense.  Until you know the reason why, it's almost difficult to read because...well...that's not how we talk.  Then the question becomes, "Why?"  Why is this boy's perspective so different than mine?  Where is he?  What is he doing there?

As the answers are divulged and the more recognizable backstory is presented along beside Jack's, the author challenges you to stay with Jack and his point of view.  His incredible experience allows each of us readers to break down some common, everyday occurrences, or even what could be considered general truths, and really examine their validity.

Donoghue does an amazing job of keeping a realistic vibe while describing a sensational story.  The attitudes and actions of most of the characters are fascinatingly predictable, both in a good and bad way.  In other words, I know these guys.  They represent me and my world.  However, because of Jack, there is more to consider.  If my world doesn't make sense to Jack and Jack's world doesn't make sense to me, is one superior to the other?  Due to the premise of the plot, the answer to this question, this time is yes.  Obviously yes.  Jack has suffered from not being a part of my world and as he adjusts, he'll understand that.

But Jack was happy in his world.  Perhaps he wouldn't always have been.  Circumstances being what they were, it's fairly easy to assume that would have been the case.  It made me think, though.  My world seems pretty ideal, particularly because I am an American, white, and middle class.  Doesn't the rest of the world suffer because they don't have all the same experiences and opportunities that I have?  Isn't my world superior to theirs?  I think of the women in the world who wear Burquas, or who have to wash their clothes by hand or even those who can only have one child as dictated by their government.  Surely my reality is better than theirs.  After all, I can wear whatever I want in public, I have a front loader that cleans a load of clothes at the touch of a button and three charming boys who delight me.   I think those other women couldn't possibly be as happy as me with those limitations placed upon them.

Maybe that's the case.  But maybe not.   Probably not.  After all, happiness is a state of mind.  Heck, there's been enough literature, movies and facebook status updates to highlight that money (or nationality or race or any number of things) doesn't make us happy.  We make ourselves happy.   With one child, or twenty, covered or uncovered, by hand or by machine.  Our happiness is only dependent upon our ability to choose it.

Ah, I digress.  This isn't about me, or the world, it's about Jack.  It's about a little boy in his room who could choose happiness in large part because his mother gave him the ability by shielding him from the alternative misery.   I like that thinking about Jack made me think about these other things, though.  I like that even though the author wrote a story about a boy whose world was a room, writing about a room made me think about the world.

Halloween Memories

It's hard to go back and write a Halloween post two weeks after the event, and I hate giving the blasted holiday any more attention than its already greedily demanded, but, I have these cute pictures I just downloaded from my camera and the accompanying story is one I want to remember.

Even though I personally dislike the holiday, I love the creativity the event seems to inspire in others. As I knew many months in advance that we were going to be gone on Halloween day (traveling to Disneyland), I told the boys that we weren't going to purchase any new costumes. Instead, they could use ones from our current stash in the dress-up box or create their own. After witnessing each one's resourcefulness creating their costumes from "scratch", its going to be hard to shell-out money for a costume-in-a-box in the future.

Henry was the big surprise. He had told me for weeks that he was going to be Mr. Incredible. It wasn't until the day before his preschool party that he announced that, instead, he wanted to be a scary ghost.

Well...ghosts are easy. All I needed was a white sheet, right? I made a mental note to hit Walmart after choir practice so that his ghost costume would be ready for the morning. Only, they were doing road construction as I drove home and actually had the turn into Walmart closed off! I never thought I'd experience that emotion - wanting to get to Walmart and being physically unable to do so - but it's happened. That's scary.

I came home and complained to Jay and he suggested just using a spare pillowcase since Henry is so small. Perfect. I'd find one in the morning.

Now, Jay is a smart man, but he doesn't care much about where things are and where they go in the house, particularly things he doesn't use, such as spare pillowcases. While I was making breakfast, he proactively helped Henry with his costume by...stripping Sam's pillowcase off his pillow and cutting eye holes in it. Swell. Except. Sam's pillowcase was blue.  And dirty.

It was such a strange feeling to be embarrassed about my son's costume. As soon as I got to the preschool party, and he put on his costume, other mothers started chuckling about how cute he was. I felt immediately defensive and needed to explain about the last minute change...how his dad was in charge...etc. etc. Henry was having none of it, however, and was undeniably proud of his costume. He went up to everyone - EVERYONE - and made a ghost sound followed by a very loud, "BOO!" He worked that blue pillowcase, toothpaste marks and all!

As cute as he was, the eye holes were a bit crooked so it was hard for him to see during his parade. I had to keep adjusting the holes over his eyes and when the parade was finished, he spent the remainder of the part out of costume because it was so distracting. Still, Sam came home and said his class voted and out of the 27 students in his class, 26 voted Henry's costume best. And I was embarrassed! Now I'm only embarrassed about my embarrassment.

Seth totally took on his own costume and was a business man for the school party, complete with cell phone, portfolio and bluetooth, but switched over to a secret service/FBI for the school's Halloween carnival later that night.

Sam chose to be a nerd and all we had to do was put a bit of tape around his glasses, find an old pair of church pants, and stuff his pocket with pencils and a calculator. Oh...and we gelled both boys' hair. They liked that.

I love my boys.

You can even see the original eyeholes Jay marked on the pillowcase going in the wrong direction.

Sitting among some peers in less....homemade frocks.

Singing the itsy bitsy spider song for the parents.

Parading through the classrooms for some loot (nothing unhealthy though.  Pencils, pretzels and stickers.  Even their party menu was applesauce, vegetables and hummus.

Taking pictures and going on their only trick-or-treating outing to Grandma's.   Henry changed his mind once again and decided to be a cowboy.  I'm telling you, once they get that chance to create their own costume, their power is unleashed!

Trying to get a shot without Dad in it but its windy.

Over and out.