I was talking to Melodi the other day about a previous blog. I told her more in depth the story about how we got our motel room at the car show and why we had to park a block away from our room. I promised I would fill in the blanks for her. Here is 'the rest of the story.'
It was late on a Friday afternoon, when we accidentally became a member of the "Neon Nights" antique car show. Since we were driving a 1991 Grand Marquis, people thought we were part of the car show....only ill prepared for it. We were trapped for awhile until we saw a sign for the "Oregon Motel". Immediately Tommy took a left into the parking lot. He sent me in to get the room. I hate doing this! By nature I am a 'people person', however this only lasts for about eight hours a day and then I am done with 'people' in general, lunatics in particular. When I walked in, the room was filled with both.
The couple in front of me were finishing up their paper work on their room. Then it was my turn. There were two men working the counter. One man was very tall with a blank stare on his face. The second was a small man from the middle East speaking sporadic English. He was very animated, talking a lot with his hands. Unfortunately I drew the blank.
I asked the price of the room, he stared at me like I had just ordered a Big Mac. I put my purse on the counter, retrieving my debit card, waiting for my room to be paid. He looked at me, I looked at him---nothing happened. Then he says, "I need your car license plate number". I told him I didn't know what it was, but it was parked under the awning outside his door. He said, "Well go get it". After a few seconds, I turned around to go out and write down my license number. I gave it to him. The man still stared. I looked at the little guy standing behind him and asked for help. He laughed, taking over. The tall man wouldn't move, we worked around him. Finally I get the room paid. On the way out the door he tells me I have to park a block away from my room. I asked him why and he told me people were taking other people's parking places and he was out of room except for the handicapped spot.
We go to our room, unload the car with a big sigh of relief. I notice that our parking spot was taken by two Harley bikes. Beautiful bikes but in our parking space. I told Tommy one of us needed to tell the bikers to move. His exact words were, "Knock yourself out!" Not exactly what I wanted to hear.
I walk over to their door, as it opens. Out come two of the biggest men I have ever seen. I asked them if those were their bikes. They said yes and one said "why?" At that particular minute I could think of no reason why those two big men could not park there. I am sure I would in about an hour, but not now.
I told them we were going to have to park in the back of the motel about a block away. I thought they might pick up on my plight and offer to move their bikes. The talkative one said, "Yeah, we thought we were going to have to do that, but luckily we don't."
My little mind was spinning, I could hear Tommy laugh through the open door. I wished them a good evening and returned to my room. Tommy said, "Nice going badass"
That stung a little bit, however he had a point. If we are too tired to drive we are too tired to fight. "Fight" where did that idea even come from? I was done. My people skills had expired about an hour ago.
Tommy and I drive the car to the back parking lot. We are surrounded by men wanting to know about our car. I was through talking, I went back to the room and locked the door. I hear someone pull into the handicapped parking spot. I opened the door and out jumps two 20 year old beauties. One said, "Who cares if it is a handicapped parking space!!! We got the last room, so as far as I am concerned this is my space". She looks at me and smiles sweetly. All I could think of to say was "Knock yourself out" and I closed the door. About that time Tommy comes in, still laughing, saying "Did you see who got the handicapped parking spot?" I just groaned and threw a pillow at him......badass indeed!!!
The past two weeks I have received several emails about our vacation. An old friend wants to know if we had any "oddball things happen on our trip". As a matter of fact we did. The first thing that I considered 'odd' happened on our first morning at Melodi's home in California. Tommy and I were sitting outside drinking coffee and enjoying Melodi's patio. I love her house and yard. Completely surrounded by people and not a person in sight. We were relaxing and unwinding from the trip. My cell phone rings, on the other end is a emergency room nurse in Missouri calling me to see how I felt after my discharge from the hospital, the night before. I was caught off guard. I told her I was fine, had not been in the emergency room the night before, plus I was in California. She paused for a second and said, "Hmmm I must have made a mistake." Then she hung up. I told Tommy about the call and he just laughed. Conspiracy theorist that I am, I chewed on this for about an hour. I was hoping my insurance card wasn't being used. I dismissed that idea, they would have to pay a $300 copay to get anywhere with it. Someone probably made up a cell phone number and it happened to be mine. It could have been a lot of things, so far it has turned out to be nothing.
The second "odd occurrence" was about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. This happened as we were returning home. We were in Oregon, having crossed the Bridge of the Gods. We stopped for the night. It was a beautiful place. As we drove into town we stopped to ask directions and recommendations for a good motel. We were told we were in the wrong part of town. We should be "downtown at the square". We were tired, wanting out of the car and ready to rest. We drove downtown. This is where things get tricky. There were 40 million old cars all souped up and looking sharp, parading around town. We had the windows down and saw crowds of people lining both sides of the streets. People were taking pictures and making all sorts of comments. I told Tommy we needed to get out of this parade some way. That is when I heard a lady say, "Well, it's a nice old car but why didn't they wash it before they came to town." She was talking about us. Now I really wanted off the road. This is when we realize we are in a car show!! Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time!!! We were driving Mama's 91 Grand Marquis. It is a sweet ride. Roomy, comfortable and old but in excellent condition. I love that car. At times I still get a wiff of Mama's scent. Tami got one the other day, when she opened the glove box. It comes and goes. I think that is when Mama makes us a visit.
We pulled out of traffic and into a motel parking lot. I go inside to get a room, only to find most of the rooms in town are already reserved for the "Antique Car Show." It is a yearly event and people from all over the Northwest come here for this weekend. UGH!! I finally got a room but we had to park the car about a block from where we were staying. People were pulling in and parking anywhere. I was ticked off to say the least. We knew if we left that place we might not get a room. The room was nice just inconvenient.
While we were parking the car, we see a sign that read "Welcome Neon Night Cruisers". As we pulled into the parking lot people came over to see "our car". I am like "Oh Crap" while Tommy is telling them all about the car. I really didn't want to talk about "what they had under their hood!". They were curious why we hadn't fixed the car up with more chrome and spit and polish. That is when we told them we were traveling and not in the car show. Talk about being astonished!!! The three men who were talking to Tommy, couldn't believe we on a 5,000 mile road trip, in "that old thing." I couldn't believe they spent thousands of dollars on their "old things" and don't drive them.
The next morning I took a few quick shots of cars in the parking lot. This is only a smidge of cars that were there. I like the old truck best. I have to admit I saw some beautiful old cars that are worth a fortune. Ours isn't and that is fine with me. I can't see sinking a lot of money into a car or truck that is only driven on special occasions. They could not see why we didn't fix the car "up". Apples and oranges. Republicans and Democrats.
We ate breakfast at the diner shown above. We were the first ones there so the waitress had time to talk to us. She filled us in on the "Neon Night Cruisers". Told us about the area we were in and gave us some names of places to see before we left. She was super nice. There was one thing in the diner that I loved. An old jukebox. It was beautiful and bought back a lot of memories. Now that impressed me.
Last night I sat up until almost 12:30 trying to find a letter I wrote to Tommy 43 years ago. I read and laughed at the things I had written when I was 19 or 20, however I never did find the letter. I gave up and went to bed.
I remember the day I wrote the letter. It was July. I was working for Granddaddy while his secretary was on vacation. He asked me to help him for a couple of weeks. All I had to do was answer the phone, take messages and not screw up the business. I could do that!
Granddaddy had a t.v. in the outer office where I was sitting. I asked him if I could watch t.v. because Apollo 11 was landing on the moon. He said, "Sure" and went back into his office. I don't remember if I was watching it in real time or prerecorded. All I remember was being glued to the set. I could not imagine that I was actually going to see Neil Armstrong walk on the moon.
Tommy and I had just started seeing each other after a two year breakup. We were serious about each other from the first date. As I watched the news, I wanted to share what I was seeing with him. I remember Granddaddy came out of his office and wanted to know how long it was going to take "for that guy to walk on the moon". I think he wanted the t.v. off. I told him, "not long but this is history in the making." I really wanted to see this. He went back inside his office for the second time, closing the door.
The phone rang only a couple of times. Grandaddy took his calls and I felt important:) While waiting for the 'walk' I started writing Tommy. I remember the letter was long and detailed.
July 21,1969 I heard words that I will never forget. "That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind." I wrote them to Tommy. I ran to Granddaddy's office. I wanted him to see the walk for himself. He was as impressed as I was. We stood there, not saying a word, amazed to see an American walk on the moon.
When the American flag was placed in the moon, we both applauded to an empty office, a grandfather and his granddaughter sharing a historic moment. It was an awesome feeling. A proud moment. Today I listened to the eulogy spoken for Neil Armstrong. It was very moving, touching and well deserved. It was given by the last astronaut to walk on the moon. I hate to admit this, I had no clue who he was. I don't even remember his mission in space. My how times have changed! We live in a fast paced world, where the extraordinary becomes common and mundane. However for the first time in history, I watched a man walk on the moon and place the American flag. For that I will be grateful. Rest in peace Neil Armstrong---you made history.
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For years Tommy has wanted me to hunt with him. I go, we both end up wishing I had stayed home. I swear I will never go again. A year passes. Hunting season arrives and the pressure is on again by Tommy to hunt with him. Why I will never know. For me sitting on a rock or in a tree, in the dark with rain or snow coming down is not my idea of fun.
However, while we were on vacation we learned a way to have fun together and compromise (I hope) on hunting. We saw some of the most beautiful animals I have ever seen. In Wyoming and Northern California we saw elk that would make the most ardent hunter salivate and trigger happy just to be near them. If you are an artist, photographer or writer the affect was mesmerizing. Tommy and I both shared the love of watching the animals in the wild. A nice, friendly Indian, who was working the road crew on Hwy. 299 told us where the elk were and told us the side trip was worth the detour. He was
so right. They are located on Indian land in part of the Redwoods. We spent most of the morning watching, taking photos and enjoy where we were.
There were at least 8 or 10 bull elk in a huge field. At first we didn't see any. Then one elk raised his head, then another, then another. Soon they started to get up and move around. Slowly they walked away from us. Oblivious or unconcerned about the fact that humans were around. My camera was going nuts and Tommy was in his element. He told me exactly about how the animals would behave. He told me again about his hunt in Colorado years ago when he got a huge 4x4 elk. It was good to hear the story again and to see how happy it made him. I showed him photos I was getting. Soon he had to borrow my camera to get "just the right shot".
I took pictures for about two hours. Most I had to delete but the ones I kept, are very special to us. I think the elk on the left was the leader. The rest of the group seemed to always be alert to where he was and what he was doing. They would follow for awhile and then break off to graze. Always keeping a glancing eye on their leader.
Eventually the elk walked off. It was amazing to have watched this without having to worry about shooting one of them. I am thankful no guns were involved and we had such a good time. The next time we had a hunting adventure was in Wyoming. We were going 80 miles an hour when Tommy said, " Did you see those antelope in that field on the right?" I hadn't but I saw one later on about a mile down the road. Tommy slowed down and we began our "antelope hunt". This was fun and frustrating at the same time. Since we were in a car the window of opportunity to get a camera shot was hard to say the least. Why we didn't pull over, escapes me. But we didn't. We did our "hunting" going 60 miles an hour. I got two shots out of probably 100 that were passable. If you close one eye and squint---you might see the antelope. I can see it because I know where it is.
This guy is laying on the ground behind a post. They are delicate animals. Small, quick and delicious. Tommy shot one years ago, in Wyoming. The meat is light, almost like pork.
We saw babies, so small they looked almost like a little, tiny goat. We "hunted" these antelope for about 200 miles. They were everywhere my camera wasn't. I have a 3 second delay on my Kodak Easy Share. In 3 seconds I lost a lot of antelope. But I did get this final picture. It was a hail Mary and it turned out pretty good, considering. For me this was the best hunting trip Tommy and I have ever had. I think it was for him too.
Yesterday while waiting for Tommy to check out at WalMart, a young woman came up to me and said, "Do you remember who I am?" After a second of studying her face I knew she was Frannie Thomas. It had been years since I had seen her. She grew into a beautiful young woman. Tall, slim with pretty long reddish blonde hair. She also had two teenagers with her. Her son and daughter, who graduates from school this year. Wow....time gets away fast. I remember when she was a young girl and we used to take her to church with us.
Frannie said that she wanted to tell me something. That is when I received the nicest complement of my life. She told me that she wanted to tell me how much she admired me when she was younger, and to thank me for taking her to church. I gave her a big hug. I really didn't know what to say. In the back of my mind I heard, "See you never know the impact you make on people. There is always someone watching."
Frannie said she believes in telling people the good things they did before it is too late. She lived in front of my eyes the best sermon I have heard in years.
Thank you Frannie for the nicest compliment I have ever received. Not only did you make my day, you recharged something in me that has been quiet for while. For that I am thankful and humbled.
I swore I would not get into any political posturing concerning the 2012 elections because we are all free to vote the way we see fit. I swore I would not use my blog to encourage the voting of one candidate over the other. I do not agree with either candidate on everything they say or on all of their plans. I never have. However, there is one area and one statement that has caused me to grind my teeth, bite my tongue and change my mind. The statement was "If you have a vagina and you vote Republican ......you are a moron!!!" This really ticks me off, to say the least. Moron......really??
The main reason I write this blog is because I want my ancestors, grandchildren, great grandchildren and relatives on down the line, to know me. I want them to know how I think. How Tommy and I lived and loved for so many years. I want them to know about our daily lives and what we stood for while we were alive. This is the main legacy I will leave. There won't be a lot of money but there will be stories and truths written for family and friends.
This is one of those truths that I hold very dear to my heart. It is the argument concerning abortion. I believe life begins at conception. The minute I found out I was pregnant, I carried a baby not a fetus. I loved that child before she was born. I can accept we live in a nation where abortion is legal, but I don't have to like it. I don't think it should ever be used as a means of birth control.
I do believe in cases of rape or incest the mother should be allowed to terminate the pregnancy. If her life is in danger by having the baby then it should be her decision on what needs to be done. It is a tough decision and should be left to the ones involved. It is not my call. I hope there never comes a time when we are faced with that decision.
One of the reasons we are in debt is because we have killed off through abortion, one generation at least, of tax payers. Since 1973 approximately 50 million abortions have been performed. That was a lot of potential doctors, teachers, presidents, inventors, artists, musicians, authors, mothers and fathers who never got a chance at life or to pay taxes.
I am an independent thinker and voter. I believe a man or woman should be able to love whoever they want to love. It is none of my business if they choose a same sex relationship, if they marry a different race or someone of a different religion or no religion at all.
This is an important election. We are at a crossroads in the world and at home. In November I will vote, but not whole heartily. I have some reservations about both candidates and their running mates.
When I do go to the polls, I will be voting my conscience on matters I consider important...my vagina is just along for the ride. It is a tough world. There are no easy answers anymore. If you believe in something fight for it while we still can.
Our first morning in California, Melodi and I went to the beach. The Pacific Ocean surrounded us, but kept out of sight. We could smell it. We felt the change in the atmosphere. It was 67 degrees in Oxnard, the sun was hidden by clouds. A wind was lightly blowing. The ocean was waiting impatiently for our meeting. We were ready to meet.
We drove six miles then walked across a sand dune....and there she was...the ocean finally. The day was early. Most of the people on the beach were walking their dogs, drinking coffee, looking like they had just crawled out of bed. So did we. We slipped off our flip flops and walked up and over the sand dune. My legs ached by the time I reached the surf. It was a good work out. My eyes were glued to the rough surf in front of me. It looks nothing like the Atlantic Ocean. Melodi and I looked at each other and laughed. It was a good moment to share with someone you love. The Pacific Ocean that morning was rough, there was a mist in the air, the clouds were low and the water was cold. We loved it. I had no urge to run and jump in the water. I just wanted to stop, look and listen.
We began to take pictures and to wander off on our own. A huge retaining wall had been built to our left, at the far end of the beach. It was covered in graffiti murals. I snapped a long shot photo from a distance. Eventually, I walked over to inspect the art. I looked at it for a long time. There were three sections, maybe more, telling a story of a young man who had died surfing, perhaps at this very beach.
Melodi came over and we tried to piece together what may have happened. The picture that grabbed my attention the most, was of a young woman .
She was beautifully painted. Long black hair, dark eyes, full mouth. Pieces of her hair and eye have been vandalized or just eroded over the years. It took nothing away from her beauty. In the upper left hand corner, in bright neon green, the words a "A Wonderful Mistake" was painted. The word "Wonderful" is debatable. I have looked at this many times, 'wonderful ' is the word I finally settled on. It looks like a flashy tin man is trying to comfort her.
In the far upper right hand corner, written also in neon green spray paint are the words, "RIP...BRYCE". Next to this mural was another spray painted piece of artwork. A young man is surfing as the sun is about to set. He too, has black hair and brown skin. On the left side of the painting are the words, "In loving memory of a son, brother, and friend to all. We love you and miss you. RIP Bryce."
There were other pictures painted of surfboards, whales, a Mexican Sun and moon. The final picture is of the Condos beyond the sand dunes. In the middle of the painting, something has been scratched or lightly painted in white. It is hard to make it out.
I know nothing about the young man named Bryce. His age, where he lived, what he wanted to be 10 years from then. I do know he was loved, missed and he died too young. Someone took the time to paint a tribute to him. As Melodi and I looked at the ocean we both were thinking "rest in peace Bryce".
