Archives for the month of: April, 2016

10 Tips for College, which is NOT the real world

April 26, 2016 //

I wrote this for a friend’s daughter several years ago & ran across it today. With grandkids leaving for college, I’m going to share it!

10 Tips for College, which is NOT the real world

Right now you think your parents are pretty smart. In a couple of years, you’ll think they’re REALLY dumb. In about 4-5 years, they’ll get smart again.

Take care of your stuff. You’ll meet people who like to “borrow” or who just like to steal. Don’t loan your clothes, jewelry, deodorant, toothpaste, CDs – well, just about anything. LOCK YOUR DOOR WHEN YOU’RE GONE.

When you’re home, don’t act like visiting royalty. You’re NOT a guest. Get over yourself!

Use your head when meeting people. This goes for students, professors, bosses, everyone you meet. There are people who are up to no good at all levels. Don’t do anything in exchange for a grade or to move up that you wouldn’t do otherwise.

Make it to class. I don’t care what the teacher says – be there. They notice & sometimes it’s worth a lot come grade time.

There’s a lot of activity after midnight. While “nightcrawling,” take extra care.

Choose roommates carefully. Just because they’re fun to be with doesn’t mean they’re fun to live with. This advice will come in handy when you want to marry, too.

If you meet someone you’re attracted to and he/she is possessive, angers quickly, is abusive, alternating with being charming, RUN. Don’t think you can change this person. If you get involved before you realize these traits, get help. Tell someone you know and trust and get help immediately. This is a dangerous situation.

Make your bed everyday. It makes your room look neat & clean, even if it isn’t.

NEVER AGAIN WILL YOU HAVE THIS MUCH FUN. NEVER AGAIN WILL YOU BE ABLE TO TAKE NAPS THIS LONG OR THIS OFTEN. NEVER AGAIN WILL YOU BE THIS YOUNG! ENJOY YOURSELF!

Tags college, Graduation, Real World

Categories Events, Family, Memories, Reflections

The Kicking Fields

April 12, 2016 //

Last week, I watched my youngest grandchild play in her first soccer game. They had two practices and were ready to take on the game as only a bunch of kindergarteners can, not knowing what they didn’t know. The parents and grandparents had little expectation and it was all fun. When I later asked mine what her favorite part was, she said scoring the points. They didn’t score any, so that’s that. Here she is getting close to the action. She also played goalie for a quarter, which I think was maybe 5 minutes. As I was turning out of the park, I had a sudden memory flash. Wow! This was my, counting in my head, 12th child to watch play soccer, including my four children and my eight grandchildren. Wow. This was the first organized sport for all of them and the only organized sport they all played. Wow. I spent time processing this as I remembered so much.

My oldest daughters started playing way back in the last century, back in 1976. Ancient times compared to the students I work with who were born in the late 199os. Soccer had been introduced to Tulsa the year before so none of us remembered or knew too much. Soccer was a game we played in gym class back in the 1950’s, or mid-century as it now referred to.

Anyway, my two oldest daughters were in 2nd grade and kindergarten that first year and played on the same team, the Crickets. There were no places to buy uniforms so our clever coach either made little weskits for them to wear over a shirt with shorts or found them somewhere. I’m not even sure they had soccer shoes, but I remember shin guards. I guess someone lined the fields. We didn’t have fancy game chairs and the kids played on full size fields, so there was a whole lot of running involved. And clover picking. Not much yelling since nobody understood the rules yet. That was later…My oldest daughter went on to play soccer and tennis and swim competitively. She liked it, but sports weren’t her all-consuming love. She had fun teams, mostly with girly names.

My second daughter took to soccer with a passion. Although she swam competitively and learned other sports, she played soccer as a goalie all the way through college, getting a partial scholarship at a time when schools were just starting to offer them. She played after college and played with injuries until she had to stop. Then she had kids and became their coach and coached others and became a soccer mom. She was definitely our soccer kid!Our third daughter started playing in 1978, when she was 5. Her first team was the Lollipops. She was later a Tiger and on other teams, and also swam competitively, but eventually took up softball and track in high school. She’s now a runner and has been in a couple of marathons. Our son started playing about 1980 when he was five. I don’t remember if this was his first team, but I love that my skinny boy was once an Incredible Hulk. He swam, although I wouldn’t say he was competitive, and played t-ball, basketball, football, and ran cross country. To be honest, he was better at art and comedy. When he died at the age of 35, one of his friends remembered him as the worst player on the soccer team, but the most fun. That was pretty much his story all along. He did win class elections, so there was a bit of competition in him!By the time we had grandkids, soccer was so established and was definitely still the place most kids started team sports. Now they could sometimes find teams when they were 3 or 4 years old playing on little fields. I think all of ours were at least 5 or in kindergarten, but they all started young. Our oldest, who is now a freshman in college, was a big kid and ready for sports. He played soccer for several years as well as baseball, basketball and football. Baseball was his favorite and he played through high school.Our first three grandsons were all born within 8 months of each other. The next two are graduating from high school next month. The second one is the son of my soccer playing second daughter, so he was on the field with Coach Mom. Guess what?! He’s almost 19 and still playing, although I think his years on the field are drawing to an end. Now 6’5″ he played basketball too, although he ended up in soccer, playing on a competitive team and the school varsity team. Note Coach Mom on the sideline here.The third grandson started with soccer and t-ball and played soccer and baseball for many years. He found his calling in football by high school, ending his career last fall as the Center on the high school team. He’s into filmmaking and off to other things now. He’s about to kick the ball in this picture.You can’t imagine what a rush of blurred soccer memories this has brought back to me. Putting all these sports into the perspective of my life has been a trip of sorts. Now we’re to my fourth grandson, another son of my Soccer Mom, who played soccer, baseball and basketball until he settled on soccer, playing on competitive teams and the high school team with his brother. He’s grown almost as tall as his brother in the last year and will still be kicking for as long as he can! I’ll throw in this picture of him with Coach Mom, although I have to show one of him running. He still flies through the air at times.

My fifth grandson is about 9 months younger than the fourth and they are in the same class. This guy is our biggest kid since birth, still growing at 16 and 6″5 1/2″. He started in soccer and played soccer, basketball and baseball for many years. He only wants to play baseball now as a sophomore in high school. In fact, that’s all he wants to do and plays on a competitive team and on the school team. Anyone need a tall pitcher/first baseman to play for them when he finishes school? He started like the rest of them…with soccer.

Whew! Are you keeping up with all of this? How many patches have I sewn on uniforms? How many soccer fields have I driven to? How many half-time bottles of water, orange slices, and after game snacks have I provided? When my kids were little, I had three or four playing at once and my husband had to work on Saturdays, so I drove a lot. Games on every side of town at the same time. The only time I wanted to scream was when I heard one of my daughters say I didn’t go to her games (she said this as an adult). Dang! I didn’t miss many! Really now.

The next two grandkids are now in 8th grade, in the same class, at the same school as the rest. It’s a combo middle/high school where three of my children and three of my kids’ spouses graduated. The girl, the third child of my soccer mom daughter, is now playing soccer, basketball, volleyball, and, are you ready?, shot put on the track team. She’s the envy of her youngest cousin who now has trophies and medals in her eyes after seeing a picture of her idol with a medal around her neck and the team trophy awarded to her for her work as goal keeper. She was into it from the start.

She’s only about 3 weeks older than her cousin, who is in the same class. He started with soccer and has played baseball, basketball and football. He’s now playing baseball most of the time on a competitive team. I guess he’ll go out for varsity baseball and play with his cousin next year. When these youngest two (not counting the kindergartner) began, they were on the same team with Coach Mom coaching. She became Coach Aunt Robin at that time. Here they both are, jumping for joy at the same age my youngest is now.

All these memories rushing in. So many trophies and medals. So many games and tournaments.

The meaning I get from this is that I am the luckiest person in the world. I am still alive and healthy and have seen all of them play their games and enjoy all their activities from sports to singing to art and dance. Does it get any better than this? I don’t make it to every game because that would be impossible with all the sports in all the places with all these kids, but I see enough to bask in their enthusiasm and take pride in their abilities.

I’ve watched my children and grandchildren lose, pout, stomp their feet, cry, laugh and enjoy the wins. I’ve watched the kids do the “good game” hand slap walk across the fields with the other team and walk back to their parents with either the joy of victory or the sting of defeat. The best is the beginners who haven’t figured it out yet and run off the field happy either way the game ended.

It’s been fun to be on the sidelines all these years. You know, it’s not too long until there may be another generation for me to follow to the kicking fields. I hope I can make it because won’t that be the best ever?

Tags grandkids, soccer, Sports

Categories Entertainment, Family, Memories, Reflections, Sports

The world in my pocket

April 7, 2016 //

My phone was dead. Dead, dead, dead.

A dead phone caused a real sense of loss, if not panic. Not a big panic, but a realization of being isolated.

As I spent hours without a phone, I reached for it over and over. I needed to check the weather, my calendar, look for a phone number, text someone that I was going to be late, check for a work email. Gad. I couldn’t take a picture or call someone or check Facebook or Instagram. I couldn’t find a place on a map or play a game to kill time or check the hours a museum was open. If my tire was flat, I couldn’t call AAA. I couldn’t call for help if I was in trouble. I couldn’t see how many steps I’d walked or how many calories I’d consumed or make a note of a place to visit or add to my grocery list.

I’m 70 years old and have lived many decades without a cell phone. Last week, a friend and I were trying to remember how we found anyone when we were in college. Our dorm had a phone on each hall for incoming calls only. There was a bank of pay phones on the first floor to call home. Many a stack of nickels, dimes and quarters were used to call my boyfriend far away. You could pick it up and dial (yes, dial) the operator to have her call your parents collect. There was no direct dial in those days, although I’m sure young people today have no idea that direct dial was a big deal when it appeared. I guess we walked across campus to talk to our professors or our friends or to ask for a date or to get a ride home (not many students had cars). How did we manage?

Omigosh – the waiting for phone calls. You couldn’t leave home if you were expecting someone to call for a date or a job interview or if a doctor was going to call. My boyfriend (later husband) had to let me know when he was going to call while he was in the Navy and I would sit there waiting for the phone to ring so that we didn’t miss each other. The waiting…waiting…waiting… waiting for the phone to ring! So much time spent waiting, waiting, waiting.

We had scant weather reporting, paper calendars, and cameras with film and flash bulbs. Very archaic, hunh?

How did we manage all those years in an emergency? Not so well, I’m sorry to say. I can remember taking my daughter and two or three of her friends to a high school student council convention on the other end of the turnpike. About 2/3 of the way there, my car’s engine died. It was summer in Oklahoma so it was hot. I had to send my future son-in-law walking down the turnpike a mile or two or three to find a phone to call my husband to come get us and call for a tow truck. We sat in the car for a couple of hours, minimum. Another time, I was driving on the expressway on the outside of town and had a flat tire. Two of my children were with me and I had to stay with the younger one while the one in high school ran across 6 lanes of busy freeway to walk a mile to a phone to call my husband for help. Bless that man’s heart. We always said the world was a better place with AAA and cell phones.

On the down side of cell phones, I’ve been caught in situations where there was no service. On a sunset jeep trip along the rim of the Grand Canyon, our tour jeep engine died, leaving a dozen of us in the forest on our guide’s off road route as it was getting dark. Not only did the jeep have no tools and no radio, but none of us could get cell service. The image of our driver climbing a tree, hoping to get service, is forever embedded in my memory in a funny way. He was desperate. Eventually, one of the passengers was able to text his son in Louisiana, who called the jeep company in Arizona to send someone looking for us. We never did see the sunset and our money was refunded and we all learned to never go on a tour without making sure they have supplied the guide with radios and tools. We also learned that sometimes texts go through when calls can’t.

But, we are all dependent on our phones these days, no matter whether we wish we were or not. If you think your world was better without it, you’re probably sitting in your house doing not much these days. In my no phone situation, I learned that I am suffering from digital amnesia, a new term which describes the fact that we don’t even try to learn phone numbers or information that we can easily access on the internet. I couldn’t even think of my children’s phone numbers to call them and there are no cell phone books to look them up. And where would I find a pay phone (do they take coins or debit/credit cards these days?) to call them? Asking to borrow someone’s cell phone is kind of personal, isn’t it?

All my critical information was also stored on my iPad and my computer, so I went home and got my iPad so I could text or FaceTime or email in an emergency. And it had all my addresses and phone numbers. I got a new phone to replace my dead one easily, went home and synced it to get all my information back and was back to slightly normal in a hour or so. I did have to keep authorizing apps as I went along. Nothing was too difficult to get me back up and running.

What I learned from this is that I need to keep a few phone numbers on a piece of paper in my purse, even though I love the fact that my phone takes so little room compared to the address book I used to carry with me. Either that or I need to memorize a lot of numbers and my brain my be digitally changed to make that more difficult if the studies are correct. That’s ok. There is plenty, too much, stuff in my old brain and it already takes me longer than it used to as I sort through my mental files. By the way, that’s legitimate. They are now proving that old people aren’t necessarily forgetful but are slower to remember because there is so much in there! I believe that and it’s sure better than the alternative theories about we elderlies (as a friend calls us).

My land line is virtually useless these days, kept only because I have had that phone number for almost 50 years and in case of loss of power or cell coverage. You have to keep a phone with a cord to plug in for emergencies as loss of power makes the new cordless phones useless too.

Would I go back to the simpler days of being away from my phone? Are you kidding? If I want to be away from it, I can turn it off for a while. Otherwise, being in touch with my family and friends, having a world of information in my pocket, knowing I can at least hopefully text in an emergency and get help, having a camera and pictures always with me, and all the other basic important and not so important things I carry is terrific. We can remember but we can’t go back. We can escape to quieter pastures for reflection and restoration, but our worlds are a little busier and we have ways to make our lives a little easier. Thank goodness!

Tags cell phone, pay phone, telephone

Categories History, Memories, Photography, Reflections

The Sky Barn

April 3, 2016 //

On my weekly travels from Tulsa to Stillwater and back, I have certain landmarks I always use to mark my way. There’s something comforting about seeing a familiar place in every season, always there to show me how far I’ve gone. Much more fun than mile markers, don’t you think?

One of my favorites I’ve named The Sky Barn. I can barely spot the roof coming from Tulsa on Highway 51 and have to look back to see it even a little from that direction. It’s at the crossroads of Highway 51 and Highway 18 (also known as Twin Mounds Road at this spot, but that’s another story). When I return from Stillwater, I can see it peeking over the hill as I pull up to the 4-way Stop.See why I call it The Sky Barn? There’s just something about it that intrigues me.Months go by and I always look over at it with a feeling of affection.

A few weeks ago, I decided to explore it more closely.The closer you get, the more you can see why the sky shows through. I ventured onto the property and towards the barn. Nobody came out of the nearby house to ask what I was doing, so I drove in and turned around. Here’s the first side view.Now it’s looking like a piece of folk art. When I got past it and turned around, I got the close up front view, complete with the cool cars rusting in front of it.What can you say? I love it! Next, I drove to the road behind the property……to get the back view.Now you know my Sky Barn, so full of character. In the city, it would be urban blight. In the country, it’s part of the landscape that fuels my imagination and feeds my heart.