Not a shred of evidence exists in favor of the idea that life is serious. ~ Brendan Gill
Mom and I drove down to see Jonah today, stopping first, as usual, at Andy’s to drop off lunch and get settled before picking up Boo at his house. She insisted on driving, though she makes me nervous as hell. We didn’t get off to a great start because she was asking me what I wrote about for my column in the January issue of the Capital District Parent Pages, and I asked her why she didn’t know, and she said she didn’t have it. She didn’t have any of the issues, in fact.
There is a diner a mile from her house at best; they have the issues for free in the vestibule before you even walk into the restaurant. Perfect place to pick up a copy, which I’ve told her before. I pointed this out to her again.
“Well I don’t really go to the diner very much,” she said. I bite my lip, look out the window. I know I shouldn’t say it but I do anyway: “I’m getting mad,” I said, “and hurt. You can’t go pick up a copy of the monthly magazine your daughter writes a column for?” Then I sighed. “I’m sorry,” I said, staring at her fragile, thin legs and watching her fish for a cigarette. “Just forget it.”
I seek affirmation and seek affirmation and seek affirmation. From my mom, my father, my friends, my boss –even my child. Clearly I need to stop thinking of myself as the center of every scenario. Perhaps not coincidentally, I just finished reading a fantastic book Tim Smith of Smile-Therapy sent me: Go Givers Sell More. The book’s co-authors talk about how the sales process isn’t about you. They suggest getting on the phone and listening to people’s stories, to find out what makes them tick, where they come from, what they dream of doing someday. It’s got the flavor of Carnegie, only rings far less scripted, more sincere. Be a giver. Listen.
To listen well is as powerful a means of influence as to talk well, and is as essential to all true conversation. ~ Chinese Proverb
Speaking of listening, my mother then decided to play a Christy Lane CD. My apologies to her fans, but what an overproduced shmaltzy mess of songs. She can sing, but it’s what she sings that grates. Footprints in the Sand. Really? They make it into a song and present it as if it were wisdom we’d all not heard ten thousand times before? Sigh. Too loud, too loud, I kept thinking, until finally asking if we could turn it down just a little. She lit another cigarette and nodded her assent.
I listened.
Jonah was about how we’ve come to expect. Hyped-up, begging for tuna and bath, black soda and car ride, daddy in backseat. I brought Protector Patty with us and Jonah played with her a little.
dad offers a grape
Good thing Patty has multiple eyes!
She even came with us on a walk in the woods.
Like ScareMeNots before her, she insisted on hanging around in the trees…
Patty, loving life. I swear these ScareMeNots actually show emotion.
I’m tired and I’m inundated with work, writing and re-writing. I asked for it but it’s difficult and I’d rather write here or more for the Capital District Parent Pages…but neither of those pay me a dime. For the test writing I get moneycoin.
It is also a nice distraction from the anxiety that seems to invade, uninvited and inevitable, when I have less to do.
Mama loves you, little Boo.
Everything is okay in the end. If it’s not okay, then it’s not the end. ~ Unknown
I just heard now that Whitney Houston died, of unknown causes, at the age of 48. How sad. What a waste. I guess if everything’s okay in the end, everything’s okay for her. How weird that I had just typed that quote…
The Never Normal 