30 September 2006

She Wasn't Really a Nazi

I've been in this weird place for a while. With all of the goings on in our lives for the last few months, Cameron suggests that we're depressed. The funny thing is that most of the time I feel fine. But, we have both been contemplating change. Or, growth.

Some of the changes are radical. Some are not so much. But, they're all for the good of us both individually and together. For many weeks I've been working on actually trying to plan financially, budget and invest rather than spend myself into interest-rate oblivion for the first time in my life. Of everything I do I believe that this is the most destructive but it's an ongoing process. It has actually become easier with time. The ridiculous thing is that I worked very hard in 2003 to become debt free. By November all of my credit cards were paid off and the only debt I owed was the mortgage and my car loan. I was so proud.

But we went to Amsterdam in April, 2004 and I was a little short on cash. I guess using that Platinum American Express just once broke the dyke. We were in Holland afterall. So two years later I'm back to wondering how the hell I get myself into this mess, working on getting out of it and moving on to better things.

Which brings me to the next step. We went to an outdoor concert last night to see Keb Mo and Bonnie Raitt. I had heard of Keb Mo but was unfamiliar with his music. If you like blues you have to check him out. Anyway, we arrived at the venue an hour and a half early to secure our place in line, which begets a great seat on the lawn. At these gatherings the people who learned how lines work in Kindergarten file in place as is standard. The others, who apparently were the ones cutting in line at the water fountain, gather on the opposite side and rush in front of those who did their time. This happened last year when we saw John Mayer and Herbie Hancock. But, not last night. Three times last night the event staff went to the front of the line and told everyone forming a clot at the head of the line to go to the back, including a former coworker that thought if she yelled our names and came up to give me an unwanted hug/kiss/whatever that we'd say "Come on in!" Um, don't think so, not only because I would then suck to the people behind me, but also because you are a backstabbing, two-faced nevermind.

After staking our claim on the lawn, Becca cleaned the dog poop off of her new shoes and we were off to a great start. She and Petey brought fantastic food like plank smoked salmon and grilled shrimp and asparagus to share with Petey's brother Danny, his friend Patsy, and us. While we waited the 90 minutes for the show to start, we mixed cocktails, ate, talked and watched slides on the large screens flanking the stage. Because I had read earlier that this was a smoke-free event I was prepared to tough it out for the 3-hour concert. And so was Cameron with his Nicorette (which he uses at work during those long flights). Much to my delight, however, one of the slides stated that smoking was permitted in the Port-o-let area. So Cameron and I went to the far reaches of the space and lit up.

Suddenly, some woman's voice shouted, "PUT THAT OUT". I'm thinking, "what?" There were several other people here smoking that had apparently seen the same slide. "PUT IT OUT, NOW". When I questioned her about the slide she yammered on about "Miss Raitt... blah, blah." I said, there is a slide in rotation that contradicts what you claim. Luckily, the young woman who was working the Will Call window during lunch yesterday recognized me and said she would correct the woman. But rather than make a crappy situation worse I thanked her for her concern and walked outside the gates to smoke -- where to a guard I referred to the "PUT THAT OUT" lady as a Nazi. He was much more gentle and told me I need to put those down anyway, but that I could go outside with my stub, get stamped and come back as much as I liked.

The second time I went to smoke, the first volunteer was gone, but now there was a very friendly young man working as a guard who bummed a couple of smokes as we talked. I'm supposing he was a friend of Dorothy, too. Not that it makes any difference, but it's nice to run into folks like us sometimes.

All this is to say that I'm tired of being in situations like "PUT THAT OUT" for the sake of a cigarette. So, they're next on the change agenda. I'm reading a book called "The Easy Way to Quit" which was given to me a few years ago by a friend in Nagoya, Nick. And after Matt's enthusiastic new post about quitting I'm going to visit and register for support.

That said, the concert was fantastic. Cameron and I had a nice, relaxing date with friends. And we have some new music interests. Change. It's coming.

1 comment:

me said...

Everyone I know and value is depressed. I am, too. Depressed seems to be the new black. In that case, I'd rather be wearing red, how 'bout you? I'll take mine in sequins. It is time for a change, I feel it, too. Many xox's to you and Cameron and don't be sad -- next time, PUT THAT OUT on her freakin' face, or at least imagine that you're doing it. You have too creative an imagination not to! ;)