Monday, October 29, 2007

Ads

I recently have heard two advertisements that have really bothered me - one on the television and one on the radio.

First, the one on the television. The company behind the advertisement is Visa, and the ad is set to the song "When the Saints Come Marching In." The ad has several New Orleans Saints fans purchasing different fan wear and items - this ad was obviously filmed before the football season began, because the Saints have been a real disappointment this year, so Visa would have probably picked the Patriots to represent them instead. Anyway, as the various fans are buying their gear, they are paying for it with Visa. Then, after several Visa payers, a guy steps up to the counter wanting to pay for his gear with cash. The music in the background stops, he receives dirty looks from the cashier and fans behind him, the cashier and he exchange money, and as the next person in line steps up with his Visa, the merry music begins again. Then the final screen of the advertisement reads "Life takes Visa."

Let's dissect the real meaning of this ad. I think it says, "Hey, don't pay cash if you can for your purchases. Pay with a credit card instead, and then you can not only pay once for your item, you can pay for it over and over again in interest. Or maybe you won't pay for it at all, and then you can declare bankruptcy and start all over again." What kind of message is Visa trying to send to the viewers? It's obviously not financial responsibility. But then again, if people were financially responsibile, then how would Visa make all of its money? I'm not against credit cards - I rarely carry cash and use mine all of the time. But with the financial state many Americans are in right now, I think the commercial is not portraying a healthy way of spending money.

On to the next advertisement - the one on the radio. This one I heard this past weekend coming home from vacation. I'm not positive which beer was being advertised, but I'm pretty sure it was Busch beer. The tag line at the end of the advertisement said this: "If at the end of the weekend you have a clear conscience, then you either have a really bad memory or a really boring life." I have two things to say about this philosophy. First, if having a clear conscience means having a boring life, then I will take the boring life any day. And second, I have a clear conscience after the weekend (and on the weekdays for that matter,) and I don't consider my life all that boring. Maybe I just have a different kind of fun than the people on the radio.

Sunday, October 14, 2007

That Time of Year

In addition to family, there are two other people who are very important in a woman's life - her hairdresser and her gynecologist. These two people are irreplaceable, and if a woman is forced to replace one of them, it can be a very traumatic experience.


MALES, DO NOT GO PAST THIS POINT. The information that follows is too much information for you, and you wouldn't understand anyway.







Last April my "female doctor" retired. He actually delivered me 32 years ago, did my first exam, and other than seeing someone else while I was pregnant, has been the only female doctor I have gone to. He would have delivered my two children had he still been in that business at the time. Also in April I was due for my yearly exam. This is a day that I don't exactly look forward to anyway, but the added factor that my doctor had retired made scheduling an appointment unbearable. However, after going 6 months past due, I figured preventative health outweighed modesty and uncomfortableness, so I scheduled the appointment.

Who to schedule the appointment with came with much deliberation. Should I make an appointment with the doctor who delivered the girls? She now practices in Ft. Wayne, so that would be quite a trip to make each year when I could just go down the road. The only other female female doctor I am aware of has gotten mixed reviews from those I have interviewed, so that left the three doctors who practice where my former doctor practiced. One is new, so I didn't want to try him out. Another I had a brief experience with when I was pregnant and just didn't feel like that was the choice for me. That left the third - a doctor who I have only heard wonderful things about. The problem...I know him. I attended his Sunday School class several years ago. We attend the same church camp. I went to school with his brother. Our kids go to the same school. I was just having some problems with all of this, but the pros outweighed the cons, so in I went for the appointment.

When I schedule an appointment like this, it really is an all day procedure. My appointment was at 4:00, but I started preparing at 6:30 a.m. in the shower. Legs had to be shaved. Then after the shower toenails had to be clipped. I never know whether or not to keep the socks on or take them off, but just in case I was in the mood for them to be off, I clipped. I headed to work, playing the upcoming event over and over in my mind and thinking in just a few hours it will all be over.

After work I headed home to change into my most comfortable outfit. If I'm going to be stressing out, I at least want to be comfortable. I did my pre-appointment cleansing. I mean, when I go to the dentist, I brush my teeth really good first, even though I brushed in the morning. I then went to the appointment.

Sitting in the lobby was torture. There was a mother and daughter also waiting - the daughter was very pregnant, and judging from the conversation between the two, this must have been her first. They were looking at some parenting magazine, picking out items that would make their upcoming arrival a genius. I was hoping for a People magazine. Finally they called my name.

I headed back to a corner and got weighed. Then it was into the room for blood pressure and information. The doctor will be in shortly, she said. Well, something happened with one of the other doctors having to do a delivery, so because of this, my doctor was a little late coming in to see me. I had to settle for a parenting magazine that let me know about childhood obesity, back talk, and how to help my child with homework. Finally the doctor came in, we chatted, and then came the worst part of the appointment - the point where I had to undress and wear two oversized paper towels while sitting up on a table. I decided to take my socks off because they had holes in the heels. After sitting for several more minutes, the doctor came in with the nurse serving as a witness, and the exam began. I learned a lot about how to be a good friend from the poster on the ceiling. Thankfully, the exam did not take long, the doctor was very gentle, and after only a few minutes I heard the words every woman longs to hear at this point..."Okay, you can get dressed now."

All in all, it wasn't a bad visit. From start to finish I was in the office about an hour and forty five minutes, but only about 4 of those minutes were embarrasing. Now I have another 364 days to relax.

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

Homecoming

This past Sunday my family attended a homecoming service at the church that I attended from birth through 7th grade. Actually, I should call it the meeting house, because I grew up Quaker, and that is where Quakers meet. The stats board in the back (we called it the narthex, I have no idea if this is the correct spelling) said there were 105 people in attendance. Counting my nuclear and extended family, we made up 19 of them. Right before my family left the church, it was not unusual for the attendance to be in the mid 200's. So needless to say, the church body is much different than when we attended.

I had not stepped foot in this church since my grandmother's funeral 14 years ago. As I carried my crockpot of beans to the fellowship hall, I could already feel the tears welling up in my eyes. "Get a grip," I told myself as I gritted my teeth and delivered my food. I had also brought chicken casserole, muffins, and brownies in fear of there not being enough food. I had forgotten how wonderful South Marion Friends carryins were. There was no need to worry about the quanity or quality of food. This spread was in stark contrast of the last carry in at College where the unfortunate ones at the end of the line came out with macaroni salad and a cookie. Of course I am just as much as to blame as the rest of the congregation; I only brought potato salad. But for this South Marion Friends homecoming, I was pulling out all the stops.

After delivering the food I mingled in the narthex with my family. There sat the two red chairs in front of the nursery, one where my grandmother would sit every Sunday morning waiting for me to arrive. Mom and Dad always had choir practice before church, so I would sit in the other red chair by my grandma and she would pull out a piece of Wrigley's spearmint gum for me from her Bible.

We headed in the sanctuary to sit down - the same place my family always sat on Sunday nights. Sunday mornings my parents stayed in the choir loft, so I would sit on the other side with my grandma. But Sunday nights we sat on the opposite side, easy access to the back door which led to the prayer room, aka spanking room when my brother and I would act up. The same red hymnals sat in the pew. #1 was still For the Beauty of the Earth, #2 was still How Great Thou Art, #100 was still Satisfied, and #21 was still Love Divine All Love Excelling. I passed the time through many a sermon leafing through those hymnals. The big "Come Worship The Lord In The Beauty Of Holiness" letters still hung proudly up front on the wall. I used to play word games with those letters. Darlene still sat at the organ and played. After the sermon (which I only can remember 1 of the 2 really funny illustrations - one was about a farmer and a lawyer and I can't remember the other one so if Bekah, you are reading, do you remember?) we had the time we call Communion After The Manner Of Friends where everyone meditates on what was just said. One time my mom had planned a surprise party for my dad after the sermon so she was deep in thought about the party when my dad leaned over and jokingly told her the pastor had asked her to dismiss the service...and she did! How embarrasing.

After the service we ate, and then came the time for the big tour. I had to show my kids and husband all around the church. The library looked like it was in a time warp - just as I had remembered it as a kid, hanging out for hours while my mom served on committees. The nursery still had a couple of toys that I remember playing with, and the old piano I used to practice on was still in the children's church room. In the library I found some old church directories and had a great time leafing through remembering the members of the church. Amazingly Jason's great grandfather's picture was in one of them - he didn't even know he had attended the church!

As we pulled out of the parking lot after leaving, a lot of thoughts were running through my head. There is definitely a different feel being a part of a church body of 200 compared to a church body of 1200 or however many now attend College Church. Will my children feel the same type of bond to their church and the church body that I did to mine? What kind of memories will they have 20 years from now of their childhood church? For a moment I wanted to gather up all of the former members of the church when I was young and restart a new South Marion Friends Meeting. But that's not realistic. Maybe my family could just go back to the church, meet the new members (all of about 30 maybe) and start new traditions. But then I got to thinking, it isn't the actual church building that I hold so dear in my heart. The church building was just the structure that held the people that meant so much to me. Without those people, the walls of the church really have no sentimental value to me - it's the memories that were created within those walls. And my children are creating those same kinds of memories within the walls of College Church with a different body of believers.

In the crazy pace of life, we find time for dance, for gymnastics, for tennis, and many other extra-curricular activities that the kids love. But it's the memories that are created in the church that I believe have the potential to be remembered most fondly, and so in this day when the trend seems to be going away from the traditional church setting and more focus is on your personal relationship with whatever god you serve, I want my kids to still grow up in a church that serves as a safe haven, an accountability tool, a support system, and most importantly a place to worship God.

Monday, October 08, 2007

The W On The Barn



A project that was started almost a year ago has finally been completed. It was one of those projects that in reality should have only taken a week at most to complete, but we managed to drag it out for 10 months. First, a little history.

During my childhood through college years, my family was very close with another family. Our families had the type of relationship where we vacationed together, celebrated family occasions together, got together on Friday nights to hang out, went out to eat, etc. Some of my best childhood memories were made with this family. My best friend was a part of this family, and I was the maid of honor in her wedding and she in mine (although she was married the time, so does that make her the matron of honor?) They lived just outside of Swayzee out in the country, and the sure fire way to identify their house was the W on their big yellow barn. It was a large, black W made of metal, and it hung above the barn doors centered between the doors and the roof.
Years have passed, the family has since moved out of state, my friend has since moved out of state, and another owner occupies the house. My family (that is Jason, the girls, and I) moved to our current house around 7 years ago, and the house we bought has an old barn. 2 summers ago, we knew that we either had to tear down the barn or remodel it, because in its current state the roof was caving in and the barn was not structurally sound. After deciding that the barn was quite useful for storage and as a psuedo garage (we don't have a garage,) we decided to have the barn remodeled. A wonderful Amish crew came and gave the barn a makeover, and all of our neighbors stood around and applauded that they no longer had to look at an eyesore.

I could never get the idea of that W on my friend's barn out of my head. I always thought that W was so neat, and I wanted a W for our barn. Then an idea popped in my head. I would research to see who currently owned my friend's former house, I would call them up, and I would ask them if I could have/buy the W off the barn. This was going to be huge for me, because I am not a forward person. But I really wanted that W. First I called my friend to make sure she was okay with me trying to get the W. She was. She shared the history of the W and said that her dad had the W specially welded for the barn. This is a special W. Then I got on the internet on some housing assessment site to see whose name came up. To my dismay, the owner of the house had a first name that started with "W." Of all the letters the name could have started with, it had to be a W. But it was her first name, not her last, so maybe the W had no significance at all to her. I got out the phone book and found her name. Sure enough the address of the house was listed there. I took a deep breath and called the number.

It was quite an interesting conversation. I told her all about my friend and our families and all of my fond childhood memories and how we now had a barn and I would really love to have/buy the W off her barn. Did it have any special meaning to her like it did to me?

Of course it did. She had looked and looked and looked for a house, and she was at her wits end when she went to see this house, and lo and behold when she saw the W on the barn, she just knew this was her house - it was meant to be.

I thanked her for her time and assured her that I did not want to pressure her into giving me a symbol that was also important to her. But wait. She had one more piece of information that I did not know. THERE WERE TWO W's on the barn. I didn't know this part because I only went to my friend's house from one direction. Apparently there was another W just like the one on the front that was on the back of the barn, too. And she was willing to share - one W for her and one for me. She wanted to make sure it was okay with her kids if she sold me a W (I went ahead and told her we would buy it from her) and I told her I would ask my husband if we could buy the W. She said she would call me back. A few days later there was a message on my machine saying yes, we could buy a W, and to call her back to discuss a price. It was the first of December.
A couple of weeks passed. Jason and I decided on a price to offer her (pathetically cheap compared to what I'm sure it cost to make but comparable to if we would get a cheapie one off the internet) and I called her back. We agreed on the transaction, now we just needed to decide when Jason could go out and get it off the barn. She said she may be around that weekend, I said we would call.

Something came up that week, and before we knew it it was February. I called her again, she wondered what had happened to us. The superbowl, I explained. The Colts had distracted us and we hadn't gotten around to the W. Could we come out that next day. Sure we could, she said.

The next day came and I don't remember if it rained or if it was a huge snowstorm but inclement weather postponed our W trip. February turned into July, and still no W. My birthday is July 6. When Jason asked me what I wanted for my birthday, I said all I wanted was the W on the barn. So July 5, he called W-----, made arrangements, and went and got my W off the barn. The next week I went to Wal Mart and bought some rustoleum black spray paint. The following week I sprayed my W. It dried until September. Then last weekend, finally, Jason hung up the W on our barn. Mission accomplished.