Nature and the Alien Boy

This past weekend, Vick and I took a trip up north for a bit of hiking. As nature likes to conspire against my family, we were of course greeted with rain. Almost every single time Vick visits me, it's raining or snowing. And this time around, it was not like, oh it's sprinking a bit. It was like, hey those two are nearing the park entrance, let's make it rain really hard now. Ok, they are disappointed and leaving the park, so let's bring it down to a drizzle. Oops, nearing another park -- step it up again! I think Mutha Nature was ticked because Vick is a better mother than She'll ever be. Jealous old biddy!

I guess She gave up on her game because at the second entrance to the third park in the area (we weren't giving up!), it slowed to a mere misty drizz. So onto the trails of nature we went. First off, I have to point out the signs at the park entrance because I love these warnings. First off, parks are so bossy, it's a wonder anyone goes there anymore. Don't do this, don't do that, adhere to this, blah blah. First off, why no booze between Jan and May? What kind of arbitrary randomness is that? I also love the dude Slip-n-Sliding down the mountain like he's on Jackass 2. And my favorite of them all, alien children are NOT allowed to swim here. Shame. They've come a long way for a dip, you heartless parks and rec bastards!

We wander off on this trail that is quite sludgy, and Vick is wearing brand new white tennis shoes. But she's a real state trooper, so nothing deterred her from communing with nature. And despite the disappointment in not being able to see more of the parks in the area, we experienced our moment of purpose. At one particular point on the hike, we came across a misty fog and stopped to enjoy the view. Then as if on cue, the sun peaked out of the clouds and created this beautiful array of light and dark, accentuating by the fog mingling around the trees. Fortunately, we both had two cameras (yeah that's right, we had our Sony Cybershots, my digital Kodak w/ 10x zoom, and Mom's Sony DSLR 10 megapixel hottie). These were my two best pictures from that surreal moment.

We almost got turned around coming back, but my superb manly sense of direction guided us back to safety. I wasn't about to ask a squirrel for directions! Then I "pushed" Vick down to the ground because I'm not to be trusted on hiking trips. When I was young, Lola took me to a nature reserve. She was trying to help me down this slippery rock staircase and lost her footing, breaking her ankle in the tumble. We continue to joke that I had pushed her down. After Mom had her slip, I told her she should have known better!

So I end this here story with a badly framed self-portrait. The others were blurry, so this is what we have to work with! I also choose to end with a moral -- if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain. Or in this case, if you want the sunlight passing through trees and fog in a surreal moment you tend to only witness in magazine photos, you have to put up with the rain. Somehow that doesn't quite roll off the tongue as well.

Vicki

While she is my mother, and a mighty fine one at that, in many ways Vick is a lifetime friend to me. Vicki raised Jim and I for several years as a single mother. We had some hard times in this journey, but we worked through it with humor. She showed me that laughter is an important part of life. Even now when I get upset over something trivial, I may stop and laugh at myself. She is a main influence on me being so darned funny nowadays!

Vicki didn't always let me have everything. Sometimes she couldn't afford it, but mostly she knew that having everything wasn't a key to contentment. She taught me the value of priorities, of wanting something and saving for it. She believed I should learn to be independent. As I grew up, Vicki encouraged me to ask my own questions at the store or restaurant. She knew when it was time for me to take on responsibilities.

As a child, I had alopecia, leaving me with little-to-no hair on my head, until about sixth grade. It was difficult sometimes because we moved a lot, so I always had to reintroduce myself. I wanted to cover it up. I felt ashamed for being teased by others, but Vicki taught me not to hide it and to be proud of who I was. I will never forget that.

In kindergarten, Vicki made these peanut butter pumpkins for Halloween. She dressed up in a farmer's outfit and came into class to pass them out. But the A.M. class had eaten the pumpkins by mistake, and I was so upset. She and Miss Bowling asked me to pass out some M&M cookies, and that made me feel better.

Vicki is a fan among my friends. I kid her that she steals my friends from me! Vicki finds it easy to relate with other people and she carries conversations without effort. She has an energy and a smile that is welcoming.

Vicki and I used to wrestle. She'd pin me down and tickle me or otherwise 'torture' me in some motherly way. And don't think she hasn't stopped doing this just because I am an adult. Vicki is relentless! She also used to listen to music in the living room on headphones and sing off key. Really off key! She later claimed it was on purpose, but Gemini (Jim and I) have another theory...

At Christmas, Vicki started a tradition of hiding presents around the house and writing clues for our scavenger hunt. She started this when I was in fourth grade and the tradition continues. While she may not realize it, I get some of my creativity from her. She has an organizational sense, a desire to shakes things up and be inventive, that define her creative nature.

It is no surprise I got my independent spirit and extraverted tendencies from Vicki. And maybe a little stubbornness too, but I won't tell her that. As Lola would say, we can both be bull-headed and contrary. I say to Lola, it takes one to know one! And though we may quarrel at times or have a clash of wills, I will never forget the lessons Vicki taught me, the love that she expressed, or the belief she has in me to be a wonderful person. Takes one to know one.

Mike

Mike has been a great father in so many ways. Like all the men in my family (and most other families, I assume), Mike and I do not outwardly express our emotions to one another quite like we should. But behind every phone call or thing we do for each other, we know it's there... unspoken on our lips, but residing in our hearts. It's love.

Mike has been doing the same job for 27 years now. That's right, for my entire life, he has been doing the same thing and keeps on. I'm amazed how he has kept it together after all these years, especially since the company was bought out and the new owners could care less about running the business. He has to put up with a lot. But he keeps on. That shows patience and duty. He could have moved up but didn't want to. He likes his personal life outside of work too much. I inherited that from Pops.

Yeah, I call him Pops. Not sure where the name came from, but one day I called him that and it stuck. It's my term of affection for him. He even signs his emails with it now : )

When I was younger, he built a model train set for me. It was on a wood platform that was 6' x 8' or so. HO scale, of course. There was a tunnel, a general store, a lumber yard, gas station, a few houses. He would take me to the model railroad shows at the convention center each year and I'd marvel at the elaborate landscapes, the finest details, and the criss-cross of track with trains buzzing in every direction, on phantom collision courses. I was always proud of our modest set up.

He is the handiest handyman. He has remodeled just about every room in his house, helped me install countless things around my house, and built two telescopes. And we're talking telescopes that are 7-8 feet long. They were quite impressive! He knows a lot about astronomy and photography and has taught me a little about both. One evening we were outside during the lunar eclipse taking pictures. I made one of the photos into a gift for him.

Mike took well to my announcement of being gay. I think my stepmother had "prepped" him because she seemed to know for a while. I wasn't sure how he would respond, but he was calm and told me it was going to be okay. He's been able to be open about it with me, which is a comfort. We'll see how things shake out once I start dating someone and it becomes more real.

Mike took care of my stepmother while she battled Multiple Sclerosis. She was bed-ridden for 8 years, and in that time, he worked full time, did all the chores, and cared for Darlene. It was very hard on him... harder than I'll ever know. I tried to help when I was back home, but somehow I think I could have done more. I know he misses her still, even though part of him knows she is in the better place with no more pain. I miss her too.

I know he wouldn't think it so, but he was a role model during that time. Sure he lost his cool at times, but he's only human. He sacrificed a lot because he loved Darlene. Fortunately, he has been able to do things he was unable to do for all those years. Like take up golf, get back to photography, go to star parties, and hang out at the bookstore.

I feel like I am a 50/50 split of Mike and Vicki. I share so many traits and tendencies from both parents. From Mike, I inherited my introverted side and my temper. We share interests in science fiction, photography, being practical, and keeping things simple.

So here's to you, Pops! For all you have been and done for me, I am grateful.

Lola

So I decided to call my Grandma Lola today because it's been a while since we've talked. You never know which Lola you are going to get on the phone -- she can be sassy, laughing, frustrated, or ready to argue. She's always sweet, but like all of us, Lola has her days. And if I reach 82 years of age, I want to be like Lola -- cuz she rocks and I wouldn't want her any other way!

I have learned a lot from Lola. She taught me how to cuss properly. When she's frustrated, the four-letter words are released. She talks about wanting to clean up her act, but it's not like she's foul-mouthing the server in the restaurant or cursing out the other BINGO players. It's endearing, and I say, let the damn shit fly!

She has taught me that family is important. She is the martriarch of our family, and she has always looked out for my mom, my brother, and me. I owe my success today, in part, to her contributions and support. I think she bought a new car once so I could buy her old one. When my brother and I visited on the weekends as kids, she would stock the fridge and freezer with our favorite drinks, ice cream, and microwave dinners. She would take us to the movies and hide sodas in her purse because she didn't want to pay those "damn crooks" for their overpriced drinks. She clips coupons or saves newspaper articles she thinks we will like. Most of all, she taught us what it is to love unconditionally.

Lola and I are birds of a feather. We are both night owls. Lola would go to bed at 5 a.m. and wake up around noon. We both drive with a heavy foot and yell at annoying people on the TV. We both understand the therapy of eating out by yourself in a restaurant. In that way, we are both independently minded.

Lola loves to gamble. Bingo, slot machines, lottery, instant scratch tickets. If there is a place on Earth to which each of us is drawn, her spot is Las Vegas. But in the interim, the gambling boats in Indiana will suffice. She always tells me that next time, she is bound to win because she lost the past several times...her win is due. Oh, Lola.

Lola used to fly airplanes. She once told her boss that if he wants her to work faster, does he expect her to stick a broom up her ass because she only has two hands. I used to work around her house for extra allowance -- washing the car, cleaning the windows, running the vacuum. She makes the best peanut brittle you ever had.

She watched after my grandpa for many years as his health was fading. Before that, they would argue and chide each other as only a married couple their age can do. She would always bring home meatloaf and mashed potatoes or instant lottery tickets for him. Or beer and cigarettes, even though she didn't want him to have them.

Lola and Bob raised my beautiful mother. She is truly the best, too, so it looks like Lola has created a legacy of herself -- generosity, love, a sense of independence, and humor. Get us together, watch us interact, and the relation is clear.

So I called Lola today and we chatted for some time. She was telling me about how she could not believe that old witch would not let her grandchildren have fun or how this so-n-so was like an old mummy that must have thought a smile would crack her face. She promised to clean up her potty mouth. She told me she can't wait to see me and that she will keep Grandpa's tradition of giving me money on my birthday equal to my age...I told her, like I always told Grandpa, that I'll be 100 this year.

I'm lucky to have a cool grandma like Lola. Many people have told me how wonderful she is, and they are right. I told her she's the best. We laughed about being horrible morning people. We talked about how happy we are for our family. You have to love Lola. I do.