I am going to exploit the feature that allows me to back-date this entry so that the blog, when I look back, will show something closer to the actual date of our travel for this entry. Also, that gives me more time to catch up to the present.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
(Beaufort) Sights and (Bogue) Sounds
It's taken me a while to get around to posting pictures of our time in Beaufort and environs. I have been, you might say, rather busy... but this morning seems like as good a time as any to travel a few weeks back down memory lane. Here is a link to a photo album that includes a lot of the pictures we (mostly I) took while we were traveling as a family. I hope you enjoy them. I'll put others up later.
I am going to exploit the feature that allows me to back-date this entry so that the blog, when I look back, will show something closer to the actual date of our travel for this entry. Also, that gives me more time to catch up to the present.
I am going to exploit the feature that allows me to back-date this entry so that the blog, when I look back, will show something closer to the actual date of our travel for this entry. Also, that gives me more time to catch up to the present.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
All This and College Tuition
On Sunday, we got ready to leave town and Angie arrived. We started off the trip with a bit of Carolina Barbecue and then split into 2 cars for the drive (a consequence of having 3 1/2 people who get carsick if not in a front seat or driving). Angie and I drove down together, allowing for some nice sister time. It had been a very long time since we'd been together at all, and it was a nice opportunity to talk.
We also made the drive more interesting by stopping a few times. Once, we stopped for firewood -- along highway 70, I think. Why? Well, we'd not found good ways to buy firewood here, and I wanted to be able to use the fireplace. The purchase of firewood was an adventure, in that there was an empty shack with a radio running and no human in sight. We called the number on the side and were given instructions:
"You see those piles of wood off to your right?"
"Yes"
"You want one of them?"
"Yes"
"There's a green mailbox on your left. Put $20 in there and then you can take a pile."
"Okay, thank you."
Still alone, but with the distinct feeling we were being watched, we deposited the money and lugged the wood into the trunk of the car. I felt almost as if I had just been given instructions for where to leave the suitcase of money in some surreal crime drama. We giggled as we drove off, because we felt like we had been stealing. I don't think either of us are quite used to that sensation.
The house by the wood shack. (Note the name of the website on the bottom right corner of the billboard. Also note the lovely yard sale sign. Yes, we are juvenile.)
We also stopped and bought Piggly Wiggly T-shirts. They are sure to be a hit in the land of "Ralphs" and "Vons".
Angie's blog does a great job of describing the rest of the trip to Morehaed City/Beaufort. I'll only add a few notes about the drive and the hotel. And I will share a few favorite photo memories in the next entry.
So, about the hotel... we learned that sometimes paying about $10 more for a room means a huge difference in what one can reasonable expect. Mom and Dad were kind enough to pay for our lodging, for which I am very grateful. I hasten to add that this is about the hotel, which really should have thought about providing SOME level of service, not my parents' choice of venue. The hotel claims that their laundry staff walked out on them earlier the day we arrived. The claim seems reasonable for soooo many reasons. I don't think we will soon forget the mattresses with "trenches" that you roll into in the middle of the night. The complete lack of towels in the other room. The lack of toiletries. The sheets complete with holes and rather suspcious stains. The shower wet from the previous guest, and her dirty towel hung on the back of the bathroom door (It was covered with make-up). Ahhhh. The joys of sleeping in a public bedroom. hahaha. The room didn't diminish our enjoyment of the time. We'll just add this particular hotel which shall remain unnamed to the "not staying there again" files.
The drive back I made with Dan and Angie. We stopped for firewood again. Same shack. Same erie abandoned-but-not-abandoned feeling. Knowing the drill, we deposited money and loaded up a pile, eying the nearby house suspiciously. It also looked sort of lived-in but abandoned. We were just finishing up and about to drive off, when, sure enough, a man rode up on an ATV from the building some ways away from the shack in the other direction from the house. In my mind's eye he had a rifle on his lap. I am almost certain that is an exaggeration. However, I assure you... it would not have been out of place.
I rolled down my window, greeted him, explained that I had deposited a $20 bill in the green mailbox and taken a pile of wood. He sort of grunted that that was fine, and off he drove and off we drove.
The wood shack and its proprietor.
The other memorable thing about the drive itself was our time passing through military towns. There was a stretch of a few miles where all of the fences bordering the highway had been covered by hand-made signs welcoming home various service men and women. They were brightly colored and heartfelt. We noticed that in one of these towns, almost every other building was a barber specializing in military haircuts. There were more barbers than restaurants. It gave the town a very strange feel indeed.
I close this entry with a photograph or two of the building about a block or two from our hotel. It's a US military building, and it's rather sad, worn and defeated in appearance. I think the message painted on the ramp which I suppose may sometimes display a nice heavy artillery vehicle or something similarly imposing and somehow "cool" says it all:
"All This and College Tuition."
It's too late for me now, what with my weight problems and my age... but to think I took out loans to go to UCLA when I had THIS as an option!
We also made the drive more interesting by stopping a few times. Once, we stopped for firewood -- along highway 70, I think. Why? Well, we'd not found good ways to buy firewood here, and I wanted to be able to use the fireplace. The purchase of firewood was an adventure, in that there was an empty shack with a radio running and no human in sight. We called the number on the side and were given instructions:
"You see those piles of wood off to your right?"
"Yes"
"You want one of them?"
"Yes"
"There's a green mailbox on your left. Put $20 in there and then you can take a pile."
"Okay, thank you."
Still alone, but with the distinct feeling we were being watched, we deposited the money and lugged the wood into the trunk of the car. I felt almost as if I had just been given instructions for where to leave the suitcase of money in some surreal crime drama. We giggled as we drove off, because we felt like we had been stealing. I don't think either of us are quite used to that sensation.
The house by the wood shack. (Note the name of the website on the bottom right corner of the billboard. Also note the lovely yard sale sign. Yes, we are juvenile.)
We also stopped and bought Piggly Wiggly T-shirts. They are sure to be a hit in the land of "Ralphs" and "Vons".
Angie's blog does a great job of describing the rest of the trip to Morehaed City/Beaufort. I'll only add a few notes about the drive and the hotel. And I will share a few favorite photo memories in the next entry.
So, about the hotel... we learned that sometimes paying about $10 more for a room means a huge difference in what one can reasonable expect. Mom and Dad were kind enough to pay for our lodging, for which I am very grateful. I hasten to add that this is about the hotel, which really should have thought about providing SOME level of service, not my parents' choice of venue. The hotel claims that their laundry staff walked out on them earlier the day we arrived. The claim seems reasonable for soooo many reasons. I don't think we will soon forget the mattresses with "trenches" that you roll into in the middle of the night. The complete lack of towels in the other room. The lack of toiletries. The sheets complete with holes and rather suspcious stains. The shower wet from the previous guest, and her dirty towel hung on the back of the bathroom door (It was covered with make-up). Ahhhh. The joys of sleeping in a public bedroom. hahaha. The room didn't diminish our enjoyment of the time. We'll just add this particular hotel which shall remain unnamed to the "not staying there again" files.
The drive back I made with Dan and Angie. We stopped for firewood again. Same shack. Same erie abandoned-but-not-abandoned feeling. Knowing the drill, we deposited money and loaded up a pile, eying the nearby house suspiciously. It also looked sort of lived-in but abandoned. We were just finishing up and about to drive off, when, sure enough, a man rode up on an ATV from the building some ways away from the shack in the other direction from the house. In my mind's eye he had a rifle on his lap. I am almost certain that is an exaggeration. However, I assure you... it would not have been out of place.
I rolled down my window, greeted him, explained that I had deposited a $20 bill in the green mailbox and taken a pile of wood. He sort of grunted that that was fine, and off he drove and off we drove.
The wood shack and its proprietor.
The other memorable thing about the drive itself was our time passing through military towns. There was a stretch of a few miles where all of the fences bordering the highway had been covered by hand-made signs welcoming home various service men and women. They were brightly colored and heartfelt. We noticed that in one of these towns, almost every other building was a barber specializing in military haircuts. There were more barbers than restaurants. It gave the town a very strange feel indeed.
I close this entry with a photograph or two of the building about a block or two from our hotel. It's a US military building, and it's rather sad, worn and defeated in appearance. I think the message painted on the ramp which I suppose may sometimes display a nice heavy artillery vehicle or something similarly imposing and somehow "cool" says it all:
"All This and College Tuition."
It's too late for me now, what with my weight problems and my age... but to think I took out loans to go to UCLA when I had THIS as an option!
The very beginning.
(A very good place to start)
Two weeks ago we undertook the cleaning of our house. That was an ordeal. We're not by nature tidy, so we become so by artifice when we are trying to make a decent impression. (Pay no attention to the dust bunnies behind the curtain...) So, the wind-up to the very long two weeks we have just finished up began with a mop and several scrubbing tools. Cleaning accomplished, we started in on the fun.
Thursday night two weeks ago, we had friends over for dinner. That was a first since we moved, and a welcome change! Dan made pizza. They brought PS2 and some karaoke-style games featuring pop and rock hits, mostly from the 80s. I discovered just how culturally illiterate Dan and I can be, in that we don't know the pop music that we should given our ages. I may have known a few more songs than he did, but either way, we were outclassed. We had lots of fun and I hope we'll have that opportunity again soon. The video of Dan singing Madonna's "Like a Virgin" with our male guest will remain unseen but on file. Someday it may come in handy.
Mom and Dad arrived in town the next day. That was also the night of our dress rehearsal for the concert. We were late for rehearsal -- a very big no-no -- because, among other things, we got ourselves stuck in some of the internal roads in Duke University that Google maps thinks should have taken us to our destination. They didn't. Our late arrival meant I got the end spot on the top riser. The curvature of the risers was such that my side was parallel to the front of the stage. I couldn't help feeling rather exposed there, and I was terrified about that because with as few rehearsals as I had, I was not confident that I could sing accurately or do anything like singing "in character," which we'd been asked to do to bring the opera scenes (in other languages) to life for the audience. I was so upset about being late that I found myself having internal monologue something like this:
"Doh! You are such a loser to be late!"
"I know, and I am annoyed about it, believe me."
"Well, never mind. Now you have to sing anyway."
"I know, but I can't concentrate on singing because I am annoyed."
"You don't have a choice, you know."
"Yes. But maybe if I scowl as I sing it will somehow make it all better. I don't want to be flippant."
"Don't be ridiculous. The professional thing to do now that you are here is to give your all and get into character."
"Shush. I am trying to sing here."
"Good luck with that."
I discovered at the end of rehearsal that the end spot on the top riser also meant that (lucky me) I got to be the first one on the stage when all 130-ish of us (several people skipped out on this concert) took to the stage. Actually, Rodney suggested to the group that I switch spots with a more seasoned choir member, but all of my fellow second Sopranos replied to that with, "You'll be fine." So, with a bit of coaching from Rodney (he'd rather I walk too slowly than too quickly in order to keep the pace reasonable for not-so-mobile choir members who were climbing two flights of stairs from the basement of the theatre in order to get to the stage) and from Dave, who was arranging logistics (Music away from the audience, up the side of the risers, then across), I was as ready as I was going to be.
On Saturday, Mom, Dad, Dan and I went to the local farmer's market. We spent quite a while browsing, while Dad made new friends with several talkative people. We had the not-entirely-unusual experience of meeting someone who had moved to our town from Riverside, CA. She overheard us talking about So Cal and had to talk to us. She said that meeting people from "home" eased the home-sickness she sometimes feels here. She, like everyone else we have met so far, said she loved living here, but her teen-aged daughter did not love it and when time came to go to college, she shipped back off to California. Wares examined, we bought some vegetables and some blondies on the way out and walked back home.
Mom and Dad ran off for a bit in the afternoon, leaving Dan and I one last opportunity to cram opera choruses into our heads. I also had one last chance to try to find which combination of black floor-length, long-sleeved clothing items I would most likely wear. The long-sleeved requirement ruled out my polyester "shroud" from California. Oh yeah... I threw it out when we moved for some indiscernible reason.
We were determined not to be late to the concert, so we headed out to Durham almost 3 hours early, stopping to eat at Tyler's Taproom before trying doors on the old theatre and hanging out in the basement for an hour waiting for everyone else to arrive. We were early. Very early. My frame of mind for the actual concert, as a result, was much more positive.
We were the second half of the program. The first half we were able to watch from the balcony. The soloists were really quite marvelous. The tenor's voice was amazing, and the Soprano was an excellent actress. Her voice didn't have the qualities that my favorite sopranos tend to have (I tend to prefer voices without quite so much vibrato), but she was a joy to watch anyway.
After the intermission, I did, in fact, lead the choir onto the stage. Mom (speed-walker that she is) reported that it was painful to watch me walk on because I had followed directions. Even so, there were gaps. I also noted that the first person to begin each new row seemed to feel exposed and started across the stage at a near run. (I think maybe next time all of the row leaders need the same coaching I got.)
Our portion of the concert went quite well, I believe. I think it was recorded, so I hope to be able to listen to it eventually to get a feel for just how we sounded. Mom and Dad were very impressed with the quality of the choir. I believe one of them remarked that it was amazing to see how all of us could come in and cut off so uniformly with so many voices. I was, as always, paranoid that I had somehow ruined the concert... but it seems that Rodney and our audience members were pretty uniformly happy with the way the concert turned out in spite of me and my neuroses. I know Dan and I felt quite humbled by the experience, and we remain very pleased to be a part of this group.
Two weeks ago we undertook the cleaning of our house. That was an ordeal. We're not by nature tidy, so we become so by artifice when we are trying to make a decent impression. (Pay no attention to the dust bunnies behind the curtain...) So, the wind-up to the very long two weeks we have just finished up began with a mop and several scrubbing tools. Cleaning accomplished, we started in on the fun.
Thursday night two weeks ago, we had friends over for dinner. That was a first since we moved, and a welcome change! Dan made pizza. They brought PS2 and some karaoke-style games featuring pop and rock hits, mostly from the 80s. I discovered just how culturally illiterate Dan and I can be, in that we don't know the pop music that we should given our ages. I may have known a few more songs than he did, but either way, we were outclassed. We had lots of fun and I hope we'll have that opportunity again soon. The video of Dan singing Madonna's "Like a Virgin" with our male guest will remain unseen but on file. Someday it may come in handy.
Mom and Dad arrived in town the next day. That was also the night of our dress rehearsal for the concert. We were late for rehearsal -- a very big no-no -- because, among other things, we got ourselves stuck in some of the internal roads in Duke University that Google maps thinks should have taken us to our destination. They didn't. Our late arrival meant I got the end spot on the top riser. The curvature of the risers was such that my side was parallel to the front of the stage. I couldn't help feeling rather exposed there, and I was terrified about that because with as few rehearsals as I had, I was not confident that I could sing accurately or do anything like singing "in character," which we'd been asked to do to bring the opera scenes (in other languages) to life for the audience. I was so upset about being late that I found myself having internal monologue something like this:
"Doh! You are such a loser to be late!"
"I know, and I am annoyed about it, believe me."
"Well, never mind. Now you have to sing anyway."
"I know, but I can't concentrate on singing because I am annoyed."
"You don't have a choice, you know."
"Yes. But maybe if I scowl as I sing it will somehow make it all better. I don't want to be flippant."
"Don't be ridiculous. The professional thing to do now that you are here is to give your all and get into character."
"Shush. I am trying to sing here."
"Good luck with that."
I discovered at the end of rehearsal that the end spot on the top riser also meant that (lucky me) I got to be the first one on the stage when all 130-ish of us (several people skipped out on this concert) took to the stage. Actually, Rodney suggested to the group that I switch spots with a more seasoned choir member, but all of my fellow second Sopranos replied to that with, "You'll be fine." So, with a bit of coaching from Rodney (he'd rather I walk too slowly than too quickly in order to keep the pace reasonable for not-so-mobile choir members who were climbing two flights of stairs from the basement of the theatre in order to get to the stage) and from Dave, who was arranging logistics (Music away from the audience, up the side of the risers, then across), I was as ready as I was going to be.
On Saturday, Mom, Dad, Dan and I went to the local farmer's market. We spent quite a while browsing, while Dad made new friends with several talkative people. We had the not-entirely-unusual experience of meeting someone who had moved to our town from Riverside, CA. She overheard us talking about So Cal and had to talk to us. She said that meeting people from "home" eased the home-sickness she sometimes feels here. She, like everyone else we have met so far, said she loved living here, but her teen-aged daughter did not love it and when time came to go to college, she shipped back off to California. Wares examined, we bought some vegetables and some blondies on the way out and walked back home.
Mom and Dad ran off for a bit in the afternoon, leaving Dan and I one last opportunity to cram opera choruses into our heads. I also had one last chance to try to find which combination of black floor-length, long-sleeved clothing items I would most likely wear. The long-sleeved requirement ruled out my polyester "shroud" from California. Oh yeah... I threw it out when we moved for some indiscernible reason.
We were determined not to be late to the concert, so we headed out to Durham almost 3 hours early, stopping to eat at Tyler's Taproom before trying doors on the old theatre and hanging out in the basement for an hour waiting for everyone else to arrive. We were early. Very early. My frame of mind for the actual concert, as a result, was much more positive.
We were the second half of the program. The first half we were able to watch from the balcony. The soloists were really quite marvelous. The tenor's voice was amazing, and the Soprano was an excellent actress. Her voice didn't have the qualities that my favorite sopranos tend to have (I tend to prefer voices without quite so much vibrato), but she was a joy to watch anyway.
After the intermission, I did, in fact, lead the choir onto the stage. Mom (speed-walker that she is) reported that it was painful to watch me walk on because I had followed directions. Even so, there were gaps. I also noted that the first person to begin each new row seemed to feel exposed and started across the stage at a near run. (I think maybe next time all of the row leaders need the same coaching I got.)
Our portion of the concert went quite well, I believe. I think it was recorded, so I hope to be able to listen to it eventually to get a feel for just how we sounded. Mom and Dad were very impressed with the quality of the choir. I believe one of them remarked that it was amazing to see how all of us could come in and cut off so uniformly with so many voices. I was, as always, paranoid that I had somehow ruined the concert... but it seems that Rodney and our audience members were pretty uniformly happy with the way the concert turned out in spite of me and my neuroses. I know Dan and I felt quite humbled by the experience, and we remain very pleased to be a part of this group.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Just a note
So... the last 12 days have brought 3 just here for the evening dinner guests, 3 family-member-live-in guests, a dress rehearsal, our first major concert here, a trip to the Carolina coast, final process on an issue of the magazine I edit (the completed magazine MUST be at the printer tomorrow and you know I have worked overtime this week...), a major purchase, several meals out, 2 large family gatherings in the area with more than just the people in our house, a fabulous birthday dinner out with Mom and Dad and, to sum up, quite a lot of fun, stress and sleep deprivation. I promise to blog and post pictures (I was the only one with a camera) when I get the magazine out and I dig out from under the two weeks of fatigue and my remaining responsibilities. In the meantime, I invite you to visit the Ibexscribe blog at right to find out about the portion of the last several days that she shared with us. In particular, I recommend the entry entitled "The Land of Cotton." I'm too lazy to add the actual link now. Maybe I will fix it later. :)
On my to do list today is to triage the house and finances, clean the Corolla, and read through the entire completed magazine at least twice. Piece of cake.
On my to do list today is to triage the house and finances, clean the Corolla, and read through the entire completed magazine at least twice. Piece of cake.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
SOLDIERS, SAILORS & CELEBRATION
I realize most of the people reading my blog aren't local enough to us to come hear us sing, but I figure I will post concert details here anyway! This is what you could be hearing if you, like my parents, were visiting us this weekend. I'm very much looking forward to it!
All music is being sung in original languages, which, in this case, means Italian, French and Russian. Two of the three soloists are from the St. Petersburg Theatre of Opera and Ballet's Mussorgsky Theatre. The third, Elizabeth Linnartz, is on the Duke music faculty.
The Center for Slavic, Eurasian, and East European Studies at Duke University Presents
SOLDIERS, SAILORS & CELEBRATION
A Concert of Opera Masterpieces
Marina Tregubovich (soprano)
Elizabeth Linnartz (soprano)
Dmitry Karpov (tenor)
Aleksandr Smorodkin (piano)
Choral Society of Durham (Rodney Wynkoop, conductor)
Gounod, Faust: Duet - Faust and Margarita (from the 1st act)
Tchaikovsky, Eugene Onegin: Lensky's arioso (Ja ljublju Vas, Ol'ga)
and Tatiana's letter aria
Tchaikovsky, Romeo and Juliet: Duet (Balcony scene)
Wagner, Lohengrin: Duet - Lohengrin and Elsa
Dvorak, Rusalka: Rusalka's aria
Donizetti, Lucia di Lammermoor - Chorus of Wedding Guests
Mozart, Idomeneo - Voyagers Chorus
Verdi, Macbeth - Witches' Chorus
Gounod, Faust - Soldiers' Chorus
Tchaikovsky, Eugene Onegin- Waltz Scene
Verdi, La Traviata - Brindisi
Baldwin Auditorium
Duke East Campus
8 p.m., Saturday, October 20, 2007
Tickets may be purchased through Duke University Box Office
www.tickets.duke.edu
All music is being sung in original languages, which, in this case, means Italian, French and Russian. Two of the three soloists are from the St. Petersburg Theatre of Opera and Ballet's Mussorgsky Theatre. The third, Elizabeth Linnartz, is on the Duke music faculty.
The Center for Slavic, Eurasian, and East European Studies at Duke University Presents
SOLDIERS, SAILORS & CELEBRATION
A Concert of Opera Masterpieces
Marina Tregubovich (soprano)
Elizabeth Linnartz (soprano)
Dmitry Karpov (tenor)
Aleksandr Smorodkin (piano)
Choral Society of Durham (Rodney Wynkoop, conductor)
Gounod, Faust: Duet - Faust and Margarita (from the 1st act)
Tchaikovsky, Eugene Onegin: Lensky's arioso (Ja ljublju Vas, Ol'ga)
and Tatiana's letter aria
Tchaikovsky, Romeo and Juliet: Duet (Balcony scene)
Wagner, Lohengrin: Duet - Lohengrin and Elsa
Dvorak, Rusalka: Rusalka's aria
Donizetti, Lucia di Lammermoor - Chorus of Wedding Guests
Mozart, Idomeneo - Voyagers Chorus
Verdi, Macbeth - Witches' Chorus
Gounod, Faust - Soldiers' Chorus
Tchaikovsky, Eugene Onegin- Waltz Scene
Verdi, La Traviata - Brindisi
Baldwin Auditorium
Duke East Campus
8 p.m., Saturday, October 20, 2007
Tickets may be purchased through Duke University Box Office
www.tickets.duke.edu
Monday, October 15, 2007
What we REALLY do at rehearsal
Dance like nobody's watching;
love like you've never been hurt.
Sing like nobody's listening;
live like it's heaven on earth.
-Mark Twain
We just thought nobody was watching...
(And yes, I can be seen in this video. I'll never tell where!)
love like you've never been hurt.
Sing like nobody's listening;
live like it's heaven on earth.
-Mark Twain
We just thought nobody was watching...
(And yes, I can be seen in this video. I'll never tell where!)
Sunday, October 14, 2007
A Fair of the Heart
One of the things Dan uniformly heard from his new coworkers upon arrival here was that he *had* to go to the North Carolina State Fair at least once. I get the feeling the advice stems more from their conviction that the fair is a cultural experience than their hopes that the fair would be one of his best times.
Since then, time has flown. We've been here more than three months, and the once far-off fair started this week. So, we decided to brave the crowds on a Saturday since we don't anticipate having time to spare to see the fair on any other day during its 10-day run.
Nursing Cow
I'm hard-pressed to even put into words some of what we saw and experienced. Let's just say that the first sound that greeted our ears when we stepped out onto the street across from the fairgrounds pretty much summed up the theme of the day -- Lee Greenwood's "God Bless the USA". A good portion of the day was spent saying things like, "Can you even imagine seeing this at the L.A. County Fair?" "Look!" and "Did you see that?"
There were things I saw that I never thought I would see (for instance, a painting pig) and things I heard I never expected to hear (such as the tractor pull announcer saying, "You folks go have yourselves a good time tonight, and then tomorrow you get yourselves to the church of your choice. You won't never regret it, I promise."), but nothing could have prepared me for the fair in its fullness.
Tractor Pull!
We toured a "manufactured home," ate a hot and spicy pickle, pet a cow named Selena, watched kids with special needs present their bovines, listened to a crowd erupt in applause for our troops, watched a modified hot-rod with 3 jet engines pull a weight truck (and nearly lost our hearing in the process), used restrooms with Halloween decorations and tip bowls, examined hand-made goods of all sorts, tried to avoid the constant chatter of the carnival shysters, sampled flavored honey, glanced at people of all shapes and sizes, watched live musical performances, spent a buck or five again and again, got lost in the enormous midway, and chatted with people we would probably never have met otherwise, including a young black man with very serious physical limitations who proclaimed that he would one day fly a stealth bomber.
Fiddlin' Man
To be completely, well, fair, Dan and I had a good time. Dan said he could tell I was enjoying myself because I was giggling constantly. In fact, I haven't stopped giggling yet.
As easy as it is to look at the fair through somewhat condescending southern Californian eyes, one thing was abundantly clear: this fair was an affair of the heart for many, many people. In spite of myself, I couldn't help feeling the weight of the pride that those big blue ribbons carried and the palpable, contagious excitement from the throngs of people, some of whom had come from other states to exhibit, vend or visit.
Pig Auctioneer
Alhough I sometimes got the distinct impression that I was surrounded by people whose experience of life is almost completely different from mine, I think we all shared one trait in common: we'll not soon forget our experience at the fair.
Click here to leave the blog and see more photo evidence of our visit to the fair.
Since then, time has flown. We've been here more than three months, and the once far-off fair started this week. So, we decided to brave the crowds on a Saturday since we don't anticipate having time to spare to see the fair on any other day during its 10-day run.
Nursing Cow
I'm hard-pressed to even put into words some of what we saw and experienced. Let's just say that the first sound that greeted our ears when we stepped out onto the street across from the fairgrounds pretty much summed up the theme of the day -- Lee Greenwood's "God Bless the USA". A good portion of the day was spent saying things like, "Can you even imagine seeing this at the L.A. County Fair?" "Look!" and "Did you see that?"
There were things I saw that I never thought I would see (for instance, a painting pig) and things I heard I never expected to hear (such as the tractor pull announcer saying, "You folks go have yourselves a good time tonight, and then tomorrow you get yourselves to the church of your choice. You won't never regret it, I promise."), but nothing could have prepared me for the fair in its fullness.
Tractor Pull!
We toured a "manufactured home," ate a hot and spicy pickle, pet a cow named Selena, watched kids with special needs present their bovines, listened to a crowd erupt in applause for our troops, watched a modified hot-rod with 3 jet engines pull a weight truck (and nearly lost our hearing in the process), used restrooms with Halloween decorations and tip bowls, examined hand-made goods of all sorts, tried to avoid the constant chatter of the carnival shysters, sampled flavored honey, glanced at people of all shapes and sizes, watched live musical performances, spent a buck or five again and again, got lost in the enormous midway, and chatted with people we would probably never have met otherwise, including a young black man with very serious physical limitations who proclaimed that he would one day fly a stealth bomber.
Fiddlin' Man
To be completely, well, fair, Dan and I had a good time. Dan said he could tell I was enjoying myself because I was giggling constantly. In fact, I haven't stopped giggling yet.
As easy as it is to look at the fair through somewhat condescending southern Californian eyes, one thing was abundantly clear: this fair was an affair of the heart for many, many people. In spite of myself, I couldn't help feeling the weight of the pride that those big blue ribbons carried and the palpable, contagious excitement from the throngs of people, some of whom had come from other states to exhibit, vend or visit.
Pig Auctioneer
Alhough I sometimes got the distinct impression that I was surrounded by people whose experience of life is almost completely different from mine, I think we all shared one trait in common: we'll not soon forget our experience at the fair.
Click here to leave the blog and see more photo evidence of our visit to the fair.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
For all of these things... (Reunion Weekend - Part 4)
For the beauty of the earth,
for the glory of the skies,
for the love which from our birth
over and around us lies;
For the beauty of each hour
of the day and of the night,
hill and vale, and tree and flower,
sun and moon, and stars of light;
For the joy of ear and eye,
for the heart and mind's delight,
for the mystic harmony,
linking sense to sound and sight;
For the joy of human love,
brother, sister, parent, child,
friends on earth and friends above,
for all gentle thoughts and mild;
For thy church, that evermore
lifteth holy hands above,
offering up on every shore
her pure sacrifice of love;
For thyself, best Gift Divine,
to the world so freely given,
for that great, great love of thine,
peace on earth, and joy in heaven:
Lord of all, to thee we raise
for the glory of the skies,
for the love which from our birth
over and around us lies;
For the beauty of each hour
of the day and of the night,
hill and vale, and tree and flower,
sun and moon, and stars of light;
For the joy of ear and eye,
for the heart and mind's delight,
for the mystic harmony,
linking sense to sound and sight;
For the joy of human love,
brother, sister, parent, child,
friends on earth and friends above,
for all gentle thoughts and mild;
For thy church, that evermore
lifteth holy hands above,
offering up on every shore
her pure sacrifice of love;
For thyself, best Gift Divine,
to the world so freely given,
for that great, great love of thine,
peace on earth, and joy in heaven:
Lord of all, to thee we raise
this our hymn of grateful praise.
Passing the Torch (Reunion Weekend - Part 3)
I find it hard to describe Lake Junaluska
(June-uh-luh-ska, for those of you who are tempted to mispronounce it as I was). It is a Methodist retreat center, but it is unlike any retreat center I have ever seen before in that it is incredibly expansive and replete with buildings on three sides of the lake: hotels, cottages, auditoriums, chapels and what appear to be private residences. From what I can tell, the lake itself is man-made, but that makes it no less lovely.
Some of the buildings are stately, grand and ornate. Others are simple, boxy and utilitarian. The building where we stayed fit in the latter category. The walls were constructed of cinder blocks and painted an institutional white. The furnishings were mismatched and worn. It mattered little, since we spent so little time in our room; it was for sleeping and showering, and it fit that bill perfectly. At some level, the design was genius: they effectively drove guests outdoors into the beauty of the lake and mountains, or at least into the common room where other reunion participants would gather. My favorite detail of the building, I must confess, was that the rooms numbered in the 600s. Room 666 was two doors down from us. Scott, the one-time student body president, stayed there with his lovely family. I just giggled as I walked by. (Nobody said I was known for my maturity).
Part of the lodging arrangement was that we would take our meals at the dining hall. I am told that the green beans they served at that first dinner were dead ringers for the green beans at Ben Lippen 20 years ago. The food gets full marks for nostalgia. Breakfast was my favorite meal. Then again, I am a sucker for bits of fried pork and hot, fluffy biscuits with gravy.
After dinner on Saturday came my favorite part of the weekend: the Torchlight reunion concert. Torchlight was a band that formed on-campus during Dan's senior year at Ben Lippen. It was headed by Mr. White, or "Cliff" as he's known to alumni, on Yamaha DX7 synthesizer, lead vocals and acoustic guitar. It was filled out by Abner on drums, Keiichi (class of 88) switching between bass and guitar, and Daniel on flute and bass, with all of the other instrumentalists contributing vocals. They practiced in the chapel after lights out, and played at chapel, with a few shows off campus... such as appearances at a youth group and a juvenile detention center. I don't quite know how to describe them except as a sort of "praise band" with a bit more rock sensibility than was strictly necessary, and with a lot more creativity than is typical for the genre. They wrote their own material, and when I listen to these songs 20 years later and understand that in many cases they were written by 16-17 year old kids, I can't help but be impressed. The band continued for several years (13 or 14? with a break or two) under Cliff's leadership. The reunion, however, boasted the original members (sans synthesizer).
Tom, one of Daniel's classmates, told me that Dan made flute "cool" when they were in high school. He did so by being darn good at it! Dan says that he didn't make it cool; the only reason people didn't think that flute was cool already is that they didn't listen to Jethro Tull. I have to wonder if Jethro Tull made it past the music committee (or, as I shall choose to refer to them, the Culture Cops).
Now for some back-story. The weekend before the reunion, Dan says in passing that Mr. White was bummed that Dan wouldn't be bringing his flute. Dan wouldn't be bringing the flute because it wasn't in playable condition (and hadn't been for a long time). I think I had seen Dan goof around on his flute once in all of our nearly 6 years together, and that not for long. So, without his knowledge, I called around Raleigh on Monday and Tuesday looking for someone who could fix his flute in a hurry. He figured out what I was up to because I had to ask him things like "do you even know where your flute is?" and "what's wrong with it?"... What he didn't tell me is that he was reluctant to play it, fixed or not. That is, he didn't tell me that until it was in the shop. By then it was too late. We managed to get it into playable condition, and, as a bonus, it was polished and the dent that had been in it since high school was removed. So, Daniel no longer had an excuse to go fluteless.
I, for one, am so glad he was without excuse! I was floored when I heard him pick up the instrument an play it in rehearsal like 20 years ago had been only yesterday. I was so busy being impressed that I didn't notice that not only was he playing the songs with only one run-through, but he was playing several of the songs in different keys. There is no capo that magically transposes for a flute - it meant all new fingering! I can't tell you how many people raved about his playing. I was too busy swooning to count. Torchlight also played for the worship time in the morning. This time, Dan was winging it on the bass. He tells me he was just guessing what the next chord would be most of the time. I must say... I married a very talented guy, and I continue to discover new ways in which that is true.
After the concert we rounded up a few people to help us sing a Rimsky-Korsakov setting of the Lord's Prayer and one of Dan's original choral compositions (this I brought without telling him) as part of the service in the morning. After a few substitutions, we ended up with a nice quartet consisting of Dan on Bass, Jeff on Tenor and April on Alto, and I sang Soprano. I heard quite a few lovely voices in the rehearsal process -- even from the people who ultimately declined to sing with us because they had to leave early or preferred not to sing on such short notice! I think we managed to pull them off quite nicely in the morning.
The worship service consisted of singing (led by Torchlight) of songs Dan and I hadn't heard in about 15 years (with the help of a trusty overhead projector and a whole box of filed transparencies), special songs shared by Mahima and Mr. Mehegan, extemporaneous prayer, a message from Tom, and the two pieces our little quartet pulled together. After the service, we met for lunch at the dining hall. The meal came with plenty of hugs and goodbyes as people began to trickle out to head back home.
The whole weekend was really lovely, even for a spouse who had known 2 people there before the event. I hardly touched all of the things that I had brought with me to keep myself occupied, and I feel like I left with new friends. Debbie did a fantastic job of planning and leading the weekend, and her husband Drew quietly did a whole lot to make sure important details (like live sound) were taken care of. I'm sure there were other people whose contributions I have forgotten. I'll claim ignorance and hope to be forgiven. :D
In short, I cannot imagine enjoying a reunion any more. My own reunions (should I even choose to go) will definitely pale by comparison. The fact is, this particular class was very special. More than half of the graduates showed up 20 years later, and everyone who was there was really great. I just hope that all of the members of Ben Lippen class of 1987 realize how blessed they are... and I thank them for letting me tag along!
-----------------------
Ben Lippen moved from Asheville, NC, to Columbia, SC, shortly after Dan graduated. Here's a video from Keiichi (James) of the old campus. Dan didn't get to visit, so we will visit vicariously here.
There are several other reunion videos from James. Click through to YouTube on the video here, then click on his account name.
(June-uh-luh-ska, for those of you who are tempted to mispronounce it as I was). It is a Methodist retreat center, but it is unlike any retreat center I have ever seen before in that it is incredibly expansive and replete with buildings on three sides of the lake: hotels, cottages, auditoriums, chapels and what appear to be private residences. From what I can tell, the lake itself is man-made, but that makes it no less lovely.Some of the buildings are stately, grand and ornate. Others are simple, boxy and utilitarian. The building where we stayed fit in the latter category. The walls were constructed of cinder blocks and painted an institutional white. The furnishings were mismatched and worn. It mattered little, since we spent so little time in our room; it was for sleeping and showering, and it fit that bill perfectly. At some level, the design was genius: they effectively drove guests outdoors into the beauty of the lake and mountains, or at least into the common room where other reunion participants would gather. My favorite detail of the building, I must confess, was that the rooms numbered in the 600s. Room 666 was two doors down from us. Scott, the one-time student body president, stayed there with his lovely family. I just giggled as I walked by. (Nobody said I was known for my maturity).
Part of the lodging arrangement was that we would take our meals at the dining hall. I am told that the green beans they served at that first dinner were dead ringers for the green beans at Ben Lippen 20 years ago. The food gets full marks for nostalgia. Breakfast was my favorite meal. Then again, I am a sucker for bits of fried pork and hot, fluffy biscuits with gravy.
After dinner on Saturday came my favorite part of the weekend: the Torchlight reunion concert. Torchlight was a band that formed on-campus during Dan's senior year at Ben Lippen. It was headed by Mr. White, or "Cliff" as he's known to alumni, on Yamaha DX7 synthesizer, lead vocals and acoustic guitar. It was filled out by Abner on drums, Keiichi (class of 88) switching between bass and guitar, and Daniel on flute and bass, with all of the other instrumentalists contributing vocals. They practiced in the chapel after lights out, and played at chapel, with a few shows off campus... such as appearances at a youth group and a juvenile detention center. I don't quite know how to describe them except as a sort of "praise band" with a bit more rock sensibility than was strictly necessary, and with a lot more creativity than is typical for the genre. They wrote their own material, and when I listen to these songs 20 years later and understand that in many cases they were written by 16-17 year old kids, I can't help but be impressed. The band continued for several years (13 or 14? with a break or two) under Cliff's leadership. The reunion, however, boasted the original members (sans synthesizer).
Tom, one of Daniel's classmates, told me that Dan made flute "cool" when they were in high school. He did so by being darn good at it! Dan says that he didn't make it cool; the only reason people didn't think that flute was cool already is that they didn't listen to Jethro Tull. I have to wonder if Jethro Tull made it past the music committee (or, as I shall choose to refer to them, the Culture Cops).
Now for some back-story. The weekend before the reunion, Dan says in passing that Mr. White was bummed that Dan wouldn't be bringing his flute. Dan wouldn't be bringing the flute because it wasn't in playable condition (and hadn't been for a long time). I think I had seen Dan goof around on his flute once in all of our nearly 6 years together, and that not for long. So, without his knowledge, I called around Raleigh on Monday and Tuesday looking for someone who could fix his flute in a hurry. He figured out what I was up to because I had to ask him things like "do you even know where your flute is?" and "what's wrong with it?"... What he didn't tell me is that he was reluctant to play it, fixed or not. That is, he didn't tell me that until it was in the shop. By then it was too late. We managed to get it into playable condition, and, as a bonus, it was polished and the dent that had been in it since high school was removed. So, Daniel no longer had an excuse to go fluteless.
I, for one, am so glad he was without excuse! I was floored when I heard him pick up the instrument an play it in rehearsal like 20 years ago had been only yesterday. I was so busy being impressed that I didn't notice that not only was he playing the songs with only one run-through, but he was playing several of the songs in different keys. There is no capo that magically transposes for a flute - it meant all new fingering! I can't tell you how many people raved about his playing. I was too busy swooning to count. Torchlight also played for the worship time in the morning. This time, Dan was winging it on the bass. He tells me he was just guessing what the next chord would be most of the time. I must say... I married a very talented guy, and I continue to discover new ways in which that is true.
After the concert we rounded up a few people to help us sing a Rimsky-Korsakov setting of the Lord's Prayer and one of Dan's original choral compositions (this I brought without telling him) as part of the service in the morning. After a few substitutions, we ended up with a nice quartet consisting of Dan on Bass, Jeff on Tenor and April on Alto, and I sang Soprano. I heard quite a few lovely voices in the rehearsal process -- even from the people who ultimately declined to sing with us because they had to leave early or preferred not to sing on such short notice! I think we managed to pull them off quite nicely in the morning.
The worship service consisted of singing (led by Torchlight) of songs Dan and I hadn't heard in about 15 years (with the help of a trusty overhead projector and a whole box of filed transparencies), special songs shared by Mahima and Mr. Mehegan, extemporaneous prayer, a message from Tom, and the two pieces our little quartet pulled together. After the service, we met for lunch at the dining hall. The meal came with plenty of hugs and goodbyes as people began to trickle out to head back home.
The whole weekend was really lovely, even for a spouse who had known 2 people there before the event. I hardly touched all of the things that I had brought with me to keep myself occupied, and I feel like I left with new friends. Debbie did a fantastic job of planning and leading the weekend, and her husband Drew quietly did a whole lot to make sure important details (like live sound) were taken care of. I'm sure there were other people whose contributions I have forgotten. I'll claim ignorance and hope to be forgiven. :D
In short, I cannot imagine enjoying a reunion any more. My own reunions (should I even choose to go) will definitely pale by comparison. The fact is, this particular class was very special. More than half of the graduates showed up 20 years later, and everyone who was there was really great. I just hope that all of the members of Ben Lippen class of 1987 realize how blessed they are... and I thank them for letting me tag along!
-----------------------
Ben Lippen moved from Asheville, NC, to Columbia, SC, shortly after Dan graduated. Here's a video from Keiichi (James) of the old campus. Dan didn't get to visit, so we will visit vicariously here.
There are several other reunion videos from James. Click through to YouTube on the video here, then click on his account name.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Friends are Friends Forever (Reunion Weekend - Part 2)
We were late setting out. By the time we did, the back seat of the car was heaped with instruments, clothes and the various things I had brought with me to keep myself busy (knitting, books, editing in need of doing, etc.) while Dan reminisced with old friends. It was slow going at first, and the traffic on 55 reminded me of an aspect of California I was glad to leave behind. By the time we hit I-40, we were moving again, and we had plenty of time to contemplate the coming weekend from our own perspectives.
I will be the first to tell you that I really don't do road trips well -- even short ones. In fact, I really, really dislike them. I love seeing more of the world, but I seldom enjoy the getting there as much as I enjoy the being there. I think this dislike must stem from a combination of my inability to sleep in a car for more than about 10 minutes at a stretch, the sheer boredom that comes from not being able to do anything but talk or sing without getting very sick and the fact that no traveling companion ever wants to sing or talk as much as I do to keep pass the time I spend wide awake, bored and queasy. Among his other fine qualities, Dan's patience with me on road trips is amazing. Almost without fail, he must face irritability and car-fever wackiness resulting from the combustible combination of me, a car and a long stretch of road, and he usually does it without losing his own sanity.
At the end of this stretch of road was a beautiful cabin in the woods, at which several of Dan's classmates had gathered for a pre-reunion reunion. We got there at around 10 pm, after most of the evening's festivities had finished, but there was time enough for hugs, chatter and a beer before we hopped in the car and followed Peter, Dan's sophomore-year best friend, to his house in a suburb of Asheville. Peter and his younger daughter were lovely hosts; we didn't get to meet his wife and older daughter until later on Saturday. The evening culminated with three out of the four of us present trying to coax all 3 of the family cats out from under the bed where Dan and I were to sleep. The fourth of us (that would be me), rather enjoyed watching the spectacle!
Dan and Peter pulled out memorabilia that they shared over breakfast, including old pictures and yearbook messages. I confess it was somewhat enlightening. Hahaha! In some of our more quiet moments, I taught Sabrina to knit. By noon, it was time to pick Paco up from the airport. So, off we went to the Asheville airport, after a quick stop to gather sound equipment from Peter's church. From the airport, we were off to the McDonalds near lake Junaluska, where several more classmates had gathered. Around 3, we were off again, this time to the actual reunion.
Wherever we happened to be -- at the cabin, Peter's house, McDonalds, the airport and at the lake -- It was fun to watch Dan reconnect. Some of the people there were still local, others had driven or flown from rather distant places. All of them seemed to have fun getting back in touch. For my part, I did my best to keep track of names and faces, and I spent plenty of time sharing how we met and agreeing that Dan is, indeed, very talented (and handsome)!
More to come, but, in the meantime, I can't resist: more 80s music for context. The inimitable Michael W. Smith.
I will be the first to tell you that I really don't do road trips well -- even short ones. In fact, I really, really dislike them. I love seeing more of the world, but I seldom enjoy the getting there as much as I enjoy the being there. I think this dislike must stem from a combination of my inability to sleep in a car for more than about 10 minutes at a stretch, the sheer boredom that comes from not being able to do anything but talk or sing without getting very sick and the fact that no traveling companion ever wants to sing or talk as much as I do to keep pass the time I spend wide awake, bored and queasy. Among his other fine qualities, Dan's patience with me on road trips is amazing. Almost without fail, he must face irritability and car-fever wackiness resulting from the combustible combination of me, a car and a long stretch of road, and he usually does it without losing his own sanity.
At the end of this stretch of road was a beautiful cabin in the woods, at which several of Dan's classmates had gathered for a pre-reunion reunion. We got there at around 10 pm, after most of the evening's festivities had finished, but there was time enough for hugs, chatter and a beer before we hopped in the car and followed Peter, Dan's sophomore-year best friend, to his house in a suburb of Asheville. Peter and his younger daughter were lovely hosts; we didn't get to meet his wife and older daughter until later on Saturday. The evening culminated with three out of the four of us present trying to coax all 3 of the family cats out from under the bed where Dan and I were to sleep. The fourth of us (that would be me), rather enjoyed watching the spectacle!
Dan and Peter pulled out memorabilia that they shared over breakfast, including old pictures and yearbook messages. I confess it was somewhat enlightening. Hahaha! In some of our more quiet moments, I taught Sabrina to knit. By noon, it was time to pick Paco up from the airport. So, off we went to the Asheville airport, after a quick stop to gather sound equipment from Peter's church. From the airport, we were off to the McDonalds near lake Junaluska, where several more classmates had gathered. Around 3, we were off again, this time to the actual reunion.
Wherever we happened to be -- at the cabin, Peter's house, McDonalds, the airport and at the lake -- It was fun to watch Dan reconnect. Some of the people there were still local, others had driven or flown from rather distant places. All of them seemed to have fun getting back in touch. For my part, I did my best to keep track of names and faces, and I spent plenty of time sharing how we met and agreeing that Dan is, indeed, very talented (and handsome)!
More to come, but, in the meantime, I can't resist: more 80s music for context. The inimitable Michael W. Smith.
Reunion Weekend -- The Beginning
If I had a nickel for every one of Dan's classmates who told me they would never had recognized him if they had seen him on the street before meeting him again this weekend -- 20 years after their graduation -- I'd only be able to buy a small package of gum... but that is more a consequence of the size of his graduating class and less an indication that there was any disagreement on the matter or any reluctance to talk about it. I suppose his bright yellow and green "Ben Lippen Falcons" shirt (vintage 1987 and still the right size, if a bit more snug than before) helped to remove any confusion as to his identity, but they would have me believe Dan has changed quite a lot in 20 years.
Really, when it comes to *his* High School reunion, I'd like to think that Dan would share his own impressions for posterity, but since I am about as sure that he won't post about it himself as some of his classmates are sure that he's a changed man, I figure I will offer a wife's-eye-view. The weekend itself was short -- just Friday night through Sunday night, but there seems to be plenty to talk about, so I will make a few different posts to try to keep my own thoughts in some order and to break the weekend into manageable chunks.
Even though I am camera queen, I didn't bring it out much in the first few days, so while I have things to say about much of our time, I don't have a photographic record of much of it. For any of Dan's classmates who may have the misfortune to stumble across my musings, the photographs won't be necessary anyhow; they'll have filed the events away more perfectly as memories. Just know that as I write I have the love theme from "St. Elmo's Fire" (See below) running through my head as I type, thanks to a mention of the song by one of Dan's classmates on Saturday night. My guess is that it was sung by two of the girls at or near graduation, much like it was sung at my junior high graduation in 1988. What better way to put this late-80s class into its context? Okay, there are several better ways... but if you don't like mine you will have to come up with your own.
We laughed
Until we had to cry
And we loved
Right down to our last goodbye
We were the best
I think we'll ever be
Just you and me
For just a moment
We chased
That dream we never found
And sometimes
We let one another down
But the love we made
Made everything alright
We shone so bright
For just a moment
Time goes on
People touch and then they're gone
And you and I
Will never love again
Like we did then
Someday, when we both reminisce
We'll both say
There wasn't too much we missed
And through the tears
We'll smile when we recall
We had it all
For just a moment
Time goes on
People touch and then they're gone
But you and I
Will never really end
We'll never love again
Like we did then
We laughed until we had to cry
And we loved right down to our last goodbye
Though the movie most certainly had objectionable content, I can only assume that this song passed the music committee. What exactly were you thinking, Dan?
Really, when it comes to *his* High School reunion, I'd like to think that Dan would share his own impressions for posterity, but since I am about as sure that he won't post about it himself as some of his classmates are sure that he's a changed man, I figure I will offer a wife's-eye-view. The weekend itself was short -- just Friday night through Sunday night, but there seems to be plenty to talk about, so I will make a few different posts to try to keep my own thoughts in some order and to break the weekend into manageable chunks.
Even though I am camera queen, I didn't bring it out much in the first few days, so while I have things to say about much of our time, I don't have a photographic record of much of it. For any of Dan's classmates who may have the misfortune to stumble across my musings, the photographs won't be necessary anyhow; they'll have filed the events away more perfectly as memories. Just know that as I write I have the love theme from "St. Elmo's Fire" (See below) running through my head as I type, thanks to a mention of the song by one of Dan's classmates on Saturday night. My guess is that it was sung by two of the girls at or near graduation, much like it was sung at my junior high graduation in 1988. What better way to put this late-80s class into its context? Okay, there are several better ways... but if you don't like mine you will have to come up with your own.
We laughed
Until we had to cry
And we loved
Right down to our last goodbye
We were the best
I think we'll ever be
Just you and me
For just a moment
We chased
That dream we never found
And sometimes
We let one another down
But the love we made
Made everything alright
We shone so bright
For just a moment
Time goes on
People touch and then they're gone
And you and I
Will never love again
Like we did then
Someday, when we both reminisce
We'll both say
There wasn't too much we missed
And through the tears
We'll smile when we recall
We had it all
For just a moment
Time goes on
People touch and then they're gone
But you and I
Will never really end
We'll never love again
Like we did then
We laughed until we had to cry
And we loved right down to our last goodbye
Though the movie most certainly had objectionable content, I can only assume that this song passed the music committee. What exactly were you thinking, Dan?
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