Some like it hot and some sweat when the heat is on.
Some feel the heat and decide that they can't go on.
Some like it hot, but you can't tell how hot 'til you try.
Some like it hot, so let's turn up the heat 'til we fry.
- from Some Like It Hot by The Power Station*
Justine's hug pretty much launched a stellar night for me. As with Thursday night, it was wonderful having the opportunity to renew old friendships and to turn casual acquaintances into new friendships. One of the highlights of the new friendships I made was when I discovered that Patrick, with whom I'd had a casual acquaintance in high school, was one of the people I consider the true heroes of the United States. It seems that after high school, he decided his first college major just wasn't working for him, so he managed to earn an appointment to the United States Naval Academy at Annapolis from which he graduated in 1985 and earned his Commission. He is currently the highly-decorated Commanding Officer of a Ticonderoga class guided missile cruiser.
The rest of the night was much the same; a blur of hugs, smiles, laughter, and amazement as I learned how far so many of my classmates had come since our days on South Hudson Avenue. I didn't even think once about 'Captain Paranoia.'
Saturday dawned, promising to be hot, humid, and sunny. Our first event of the day was a Class Picnic that some of the locals had put together at the last minute. My sense of duty wouldn't let me arrive empty-handed, so I stopped at SAM's and grabbed a case of bottled water. Its a good thing I did.
To be fair, living in the Austin area has me acclimated to summer days when the temperature and the humidity are both in the high 90's. I've learned that, as long as I have a hat, a source of water, and either shade or a good supply of SPF 50, a fun time can be had. So I showed up at LaFortune Park with my "workin' in the yard" hat, a case of bottled water, and a heavy-duty camp chair. After stashing the water with the rest and grabbing an already-chilled bottle, I let my memory continue its jogging.
Alan, Gary, Eddie, and all the rest did a fantastic job. The barbeque served was actually prepared by my classmates and it was delicious! But the big surprise from this event was that I discovered that at least a couple of my classmates had been receiving some extra-special tutoring from a couple of teachers. There had always been rumors and innuendos, but it was still entertaining to find out the truth. Hot summer day, hot food, and hot news. Gotta love it!
Next time, S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y NIGHT!
Until then, best regards...
* Some Like It Hot © Capitol/EMI 1985, 2005
© James P. Rice 2009
26 July 2009
A Fifth of 30 Years and Counting -or- Take Me Back to Tulsa
Hurry, don't be late, I can hardly wait.
I said to myself, "when we're old
We'll go dancing in the dark,
Walking through the park, and reminiscing."
- excerpt from Reminiscing by the Little River Band*
Friday morning, after a few hours sleep on Dad's sofa and a late breakfast, I took off to tour Tulsa and do some reminiscing. This was my first time back to town since I'd moved away in 1984 that wasn't stuffed full of family commitments and scheduled events. I wanted to look around my birthplace and see for myself the changes I'd heard about. So I headed for the places that were a big part of my teen years: Sheridan Lanes...the Bowman Twin...Don's Restaurant...Bells...Driller Park...St. Michael's Alley. Okay, in some cases I visited the spot where the place used to be.
I also took the time to find the venues for the Reunion. While downtown checking on parking for the Jazz Depot, I saw the new BOk Center and the pit at First and Frankfort I'm told will be the Drillers' new stadium. It was strange seeing some of the old landmarks hidden amongst new construction. Finally, it was time to get ready for the Meet-n-Greet at the Stokely Event Center, so I headed back to my Dad's place to clean up.
Somewhere along the way, I'd missed the note in the schedule that said 'casual attire,' so I wore a tie to Friday night's event. As soon as I arrived, I knew I was over-dressed. After a few choice words from Bo (which included 'scissors'), the tie came off and I began mingling. . I saw many of the same faces I'd seen at the Sunset Grill, but I have to say the highlight of the night was when I was finally able to get a moment with Justine.
In high school, Justine and I were casual friends. We were in different clubs and orgs...she was in Surfs, STUCO, and the NHS, while I was in Wind Ensemble, Masque & Gavel, and barely graduated...but we had a couple of classes together. The thing I most remember about Justine is that she always had a smile for me. When I began connecting with classmates in Facebook, she was one of the first I 'Friended.' Over the months, I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know the mom/banker/entrepreneur into which she had blossomed. The better I got to know her, the more I came to value her opinions and input...even when I did not agree with them.
When I spied her Friday night conversing with three of our classmates, I moved over near her and patiently waited for her to finish, all the while trying not to eaves drop. When she noticed me, though, she immediately paused and came over to greet me.
Now, I have to say that the best non-Maternal hug I've ever received in my life was from my darling wife, Marilyn. But I have to admit that the best non-spousal hug I've ever received was that Friday night from Justine. It was an embrace between old, dear friends...so full of warmth and kindness that the last of my misgivings fled. I received many warm hugs that weekend, but I have to be honest; none could approach Justine's hug. I only hope she got half as much out of it as I did.
In the next installment, Some Like It Hot. Until then, best regards...
* Reminiscing © EMI Music Australia Pty Limited 2002
© James P. Rice 2009
I said to myself, "when we're old
We'll go dancing in the dark,
Walking through the park, and reminiscing."
- excerpt from Reminiscing by the Little River Band*
Friday morning, after a few hours sleep on Dad's sofa and a late breakfast, I took off to tour Tulsa and do some reminiscing. This was my first time back to town since I'd moved away in 1984 that wasn't stuffed full of family commitments and scheduled events. I wanted to look around my birthplace and see for myself the changes I'd heard about. So I headed for the places that were a big part of my teen years: Sheridan Lanes...the Bowman Twin...Don's Restaurant...Bells...Driller Park...St. Michael's Alley. Okay, in some cases I visited the spot where the place used to be.
I also took the time to find the venues for the Reunion. While downtown checking on parking for the Jazz Depot, I saw the new BOk Center and the pit at First and Frankfort I'm told will be the Drillers' new stadium. It was strange seeing some of the old landmarks hidden amongst new construction. Finally, it was time to get ready for the Meet-n-Greet at the Stokely Event Center, so I headed back to my Dad's place to clean up.
Somewhere along the way, I'd missed the note in the schedule that said 'casual attire,' so I wore a tie to Friday night's event. As soon as I arrived, I knew I was over-dressed. After a few choice words from Bo (which included 'scissors'), the tie came off and I began mingling. . I saw many of the same faces I'd seen at the Sunset Grill, but I have to say the highlight of the night was when I was finally able to get a moment with Justine.
In high school, Justine and I were casual friends. We were in different clubs and orgs...she was in Surfs, STUCO, and the NHS, while I was in Wind Ensemble, Masque & Gavel, and barely graduated...but we had a couple of classes together. The thing I most remember about Justine is that she always had a smile for me. When I began connecting with classmates in Facebook, she was one of the first I 'Friended.' Over the months, I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know the mom/banker/entrepreneur into which she had blossomed. The better I got to know her, the more I came to value her opinions and input...even when I did not agree with them.
When I spied her Friday night conversing with three of our classmates, I moved over near her and patiently waited for her to finish, all the while trying not to eaves drop. When she noticed me, though, she immediately paused and came over to greet me.
Now, I have to say that the best non-Maternal hug I've ever received in my life was from my darling wife, Marilyn. But I have to admit that the best non-spousal hug I've ever received was that Friday night from Justine. It was an embrace between old, dear friends...so full of warmth and kindness that the last of my misgivings fled. I received many warm hugs that weekend, but I have to be honest; none could approach Justine's hug. I only hope she got half as much out of it as I did.
In the next installment, Some Like It Hot. Until then, best regards...
* Reminiscing © EMI Music Australia Pty Limited 2002
© James P. Rice 2009
24 July 2009
A Quart of 30 Years and Counting -or- Memories: They aren't just for Cats!
"Memory - all alone in the moonlight.
I can smile at the old days,
I was beautiful then.
I remember the time I knew what happiness was.
Let the memory live again."
- excerpt from "Memory" from the musical, Cats*
First night in Tulsa and I felt as if I'd returned home. Great music, cold Guinness, and a wonderfully warm welcome by old friends...and some classmates who had only been casual acquaintances. Even though it was an unofficial event, everyone attending Jaimie's concert at the Sunset Grill had a great time. It turns out this was to be a precursor of the theme for the whole Reunion: great venue, excellent company, and a wonderful time had by all.
One of the best parts of that first night is that my memory took up jogging. After all the "its great to see you agains," nearly every conversation became a mix of catching up and reminiscing. Even now, my memory is playing tricks with me and I'm certain I missed mentioning someone who greeted me Thursday night. Let me assure you that it isn't intentional...a combination of the stresses I've experienced over the last few years and the pain management meds doctors have prescribed for me have wreaked havoc with my memory...especially short term. This is one of the reasons I decided to blog about the Reunion...to help keep my memory jogging.
Walking around the Sunset Grill...chatting with everyone...I found myself suddenly remembering more and more. In some cases, it was an expression on a somewhat familiar face...a turn of phrase...or even one reminiscence simply leading to another. The curtains gradually parted on the stage of the past and, one by one, my memories began to step into the spotlight and take a bow. Have I mixed enough metaphors yet?
I went back to my dad's apartment that night, the evening a cyclone in my mind. Before going to bed, I logged into Facebook and and sent 'friend' invitations to many of the people I re-met at the club. I began making notes, hoping they would help me organize my thoughts and ensure I would remember as much as possible.
Next time, the Hug of the Century and Take Me Back to Tulsa.
Until then, best regards...
* Cats © Copyright The Really Useful Group Ltd. 1981
© James P. Rice 2009
I can smile at the old days,
I was beautiful then.
I remember the time I knew what happiness was.
Let the memory live again."
- excerpt from "Memory" from the musical, Cats*
First night in Tulsa and I felt as if I'd returned home. Great music, cold Guinness, and a wonderfully warm welcome by old friends...and some classmates who had only been casual acquaintances. Even though it was an unofficial event, everyone attending Jaimie's concert at the Sunset Grill had a great time. It turns out this was to be a precursor of the theme for the whole Reunion: great venue, excellent company, and a wonderful time had by all.
One of the best parts of that first night is that my memory took up jogging. After all the "its great to see you agains," nearly every conversation became a mix of catching up and reminiscing. Even now, my memory is playing tricks with me and I'm certain I missed mentioning someone who greeted me Thursday night. Let me assure you that it isn't intentional...a combination of the stresses I've experienced over the last few years and the pain management meds doctors have prescribed for me have wreaked havoc with my memory...especially short term. This is one of the reasons I decided to blog about the Reunion...to help keep my memory jogging.
Walking around the Sunset Grill...chatting with everyone...I found myself suddenly remembering more and more. In some cases, it was an expression on a somewhat familiar face...a turn of phrase...or even one reminiscence simply leading to another. The curtains gradually parted on the stage of the past and, one by one, my memories began to step into the spotlight and take a bow. Have I mixed enough metaphors yet?
I went back to my dad's apartment that night, the evening a cyclone in my mind. Before going to bed, I logged into Facebook and and sent 'friend' invitations to many of the people I re-met at the club. I began making notes, hoping they would help me organize my thoughts and ensure I would remember as much as possible.
Next time, the Hug of the Century and Take Me Back to Tulsa.
Until then, best regards...
* Cats © Copyright The Really Useful Group Ltd. 1981
© James P. Rice 2009
22 July 2009
30 Years and Counting III; Once More into the Breach...
Previously, in 30 Years and Counting...
(I can almost hear Taurean Blacque* reading that line as a voice-over)
I laid out the issues troubling me about the upcoming Reunion and opened up a can of good old-fashioned Texas Whoop-ass on my insecurities. With Captain Paranoia's attempts at reprobation muffled to indistinct muttering, I loaded up the minivan and headed to Tulsa.
At this time in my life, I'm fortunate that I'm no longer chained to a time clock. Having more flexibility than I used to, I was able to head north a day earlier than planned so that I could attend the club gig of Jaimie Muehlhausen...one of my classmates who is a professional musician. Between a minor mechanical problem and Oklahoma's tendency to place nearly every major highway in the state under construction at the same time, I arrived in T-town a bit later than I'd planned. After I got settled at my dad's place (and tried once again to convince him that the purpose of this visit was the Reunion and not to spend every waking moment with him), I arrived at the Sunset Grill about an hour and a half late...well into Jaimie's performance.
I was lucky enough to find a parking spot right in front of the club. As I got out of the van, I could hear a couple of women sitting at an outdoor table speculating on whether or not it really was Jim Rice getting out of the van. I smiled, said, "Hi!", assured them it was I, then headed into the club. Almost immediately, my insecurities began to dissolve. To a faint chorus of "I'm Mellltinngggg!" from the Captain, I was warmly greeted with smiles and hugs by Bo, Diane, and Cheryl. After grabbing a Guinness at the bar, I was warmly greeted by Sheilah, Brian, and Rob...all to a background of "Roots Rockin' Swamp/Blues/Americana/Southern/Country/Soul" by Jaimie, Tom, Kathy, and Liz. I was surrounded by warmth and acceptance. In spite of what Thomas Wolfe once wrote, I felt like I'd come home.
Next time...Memories; they aren't just for Cats!...
Until then, best regards...
*Think: Hill Street Blues.
© 2009 James P. Rice
(I can almost hear Taurean Blacque* reading that line as a voice-over)
I laid out the issues troubling me about the upcoming Reunion and opened up a can of good old-fashioned Texas Whoop-ass on my insecurities. With Captain Paranoia's attempts at reprobation muffled to indistinct muttering, I loaded up the minivan and headed to Tulsa.
At this time in my life, I'm fortunate that I'm no longer chained to a time clock. Having more flexibility than I used to, I was able to head north a day earlier than planned so that I could attend the club gig of Jaimie Muehlhausen...one of my classmates who is a professional musician. Between a minor mechanical problem and Oklahoma's tendency to place nearly every major highway in the state under construction at the same time, I arrived in T-town a bit later than I'd planned. After I got settled at my dad's place (and tried once again to convince him that the purpose of this visit was the Reunion and not to spend every waking moment with him), I arrived at the Sunset Grill about an hour and a half late...well into Jaimie's performance.
I was lucky enough to find a parking spot right in front of the club. As I got out of the van, I could hear a couple of women sitting at an outdoor table speculating on whether or not it really was Jim Rice getting out of the van. I smiled, said, "Hi!", assured them it was I, then headed into the club. Almost immediately, my insecurities began to dissolve. To a faint chorus of "I'm Mellltinngggg!" from the Captain, I was warmly greeted with smiles and hugs by Bo, Diane, and Cheryl. After grabbing a Guinness at the bar, I was warmly greeted by Sheilah, Brian, and Rob...all to a background of "Roots Rockin' Swamp/Blues/Americana/Southern/Country/Soul" by Jaimie, Tom, Kathy, and Liz. I was surrounded by warmth and acceptance. In spite of what Thomas Wolfe once wrote, I felt like I'd come home.
Next time...Memories; they aren't just for Cats!...
Until then, best regards...
*Think: Hill Street Blues.
© 2009 James P. Rice
20 July 2009
30 Years and Counting; Pt. 2...
As I previously mentioned, I approached my 30-year Reunion with a bit of trepidation. One of my greatest regrets in life has been that I lost contact with my closest friends from high school, so I was anxious...even eager...to attend the Reunion and see my old friends. On the other hand, I was concerned that my memories of those years had grown foggy and been mellowed by time. Did I remember those relationships correctly? Will those people remember me as fondly as I remember them? Will they remember me at all? Will those classmates with whom I made hormone-driven teen-aged mistakes even want to see me again?
They say we are each our own worst critic. Not only am I living proof of that, but in my case it can be expanded to read, "we are each our own hardest taskmaster." Early in life, I developed a strong foundation of principles by which I've always tried to live my life. While I've always believed myself to be an open-minded individual, willing to listen to any and all points of views, it has always taken overwhelming factual proof for me to make any modifications to the bedrock of my beliefs. Being Human, I've not always lived up to my Principles. And this is where I'm not only the hardest on myself, but also the most unforgiving. Because of this, I projected my own disappointment with myself into my former classmates, convinced they would see me the way I do. Way back in the dark recesses of my mind, the little voice I once heard referred to as 'Captain Paranoia' was whispering to me: "Hypocrite! Mr. High-and-mighty! No one wants to see this great big bag of wasted potential again!"
Right about now, a certain classmate with a PhD in Psychology is wishing she'd known about this when I was still in Tulsa. :)
Finally, I decided to face my demons. So I mentally duct-taped Captain Paranoia to a chair and bought my tickets for the Reunion. Come Hell or high water, I was going to get reacquainted with my old classmates...consequences be damned!
Next time...Once More into the Breach...
Until then, best regards...
© 2009 James P. Rice
They say we are each our own worst critic. Not only am I living proof of that, but in my case it can be expanded to read, "we are each our own hardest taskmaster." Early in life, I developed a strong foundation of principles by which I've always tried to live my life. While I've always believed myself to be an open-minded individual, willing to listen to any and all points of views, it has always taken overwhelming factual proof for me to make any modifications to the bedrock of my beliefs. Being Human, I've not always lived up to my Principles. And this is where I'm not only the hardest on myself, but also the most unforgiving. Because of this, I projected my own disappointment with myself into my former classmates, convinced they would see me the way I do. Way back in the dark recesses of my mind, the little voice I once heard referred to as 'Captain Paranoia' was whispering to me: "Hypocrite! Mr. High-and-mighty! No one wants to see this great big bag of wasted potential again!"
Right about now, a certain classmate with a PhD in Psychology is wishing she'd known about this when I was still in Tulsa. :)
Finally, I decided to face my demons. So I mentally duct-taped Captain Paranoia to a chair and bought my tickets for the Reunion. Come Hell or high water, I was going to get reacquainted with my old classmates...consequences be damned!
Next time...Once More into the Breach...
Until then, best regards...
© 2009 James P. Rice
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)