Brought to you by Milo the Party Bus Limo Shuttle Driver Guy.
It was a really busy week. I mentioned that didn't I? Almost flat tire earlier in the week, huge party that was supposed to be a SORT OF huge party on Wednesday and then this weekend was The Experience. See, I'm an event director and you know that but sometimes we don't just have parties on site but we take residents off site for little, yah, experiences.
It's not that terrible of a job to get to go to a Dodger Game, is it?
A couple lessons learned on the third base side:
1. If you tell people to use the restroom before they get on the party bus, they won't.
2. There's a Chevron off the 5 freeway at Washington with a nice bathroom.
Eight people can use it really fast. It helps when you say firmly, "go directly to the restroom, make no purchases, you have four minutes and no more beer until we get to the damn game!"
3. Don't let the obvious stun you.
It stuns me that a bathroom break is needed from Orange County to Downtown LA. It shouldn't. I'll regret saying this once my bladder starts to weaken, won't I?
4. Know your limit.
If you drink so many cans of beer that you get lost in the parking lot, that's too many.
5. There is right and there is wrong.
Doing The Wave has never been, isn't and will never be appropriate. Snarky Brother with a strong finger point says, "It distracts from the game." I agree.
6. There is wronger.
See number 5 for beachballs.
7. First everythings are important.
First games are important. Capture them in picture. Zed went to his first Dodger game today and was decked out in blue and his parents were Dodger Proud. They couldn't stop taking pictures and that's exactly how it should be when your baby has a first. And even if you're a grown up, all pre middle age and all, and having some firsts of your own, you don't have to stop taking pictures either. Nope, you don't.
8. Having "texters" helps open the closed doors.
This morning The Boyfriend texted to say good morning and to remind me to wear sunscreen. I didn't. I'm rebellious like that. And Snarky Brother texted to tell me to dress in cool clothing. As if anything I'd wear wouldn't be cool. Oh, you know...weather and all. And having men in my life that give a damn is so damn cool and opens the heart in such an easy way. Sigh. I like that very much. Almost enough to listen to them.
9. Wait for your pitch.
Bottom of the eighth and down 1-0. And then Manny Ramirez comes up to the plate. And two strikes and he's not freaking out. Cause you know if it was me and it was the bottom of the eighth inning and all the pressure was on me and I had two strikes I'd be sweating. No. He waits for his pitch and it's a homerun and the score is now 2-1. And we win. You don't have to play at anyone else's pace. You can keep your own and you know the pitch that is for you and the one that isn't. And don't let anyone talk you into swinging at a ball. You are too smart for that.
10. Work in your passion.
We were walking out of the stadium tonight and I was rounding everyone up and having to use a bit of a mom/julie the cruise director voice when someone said, "I could never do your job!" You aren't supposed to. You're supposed to do your job and I'm supposed to do mine and when we're both working in our passions they don't really feel like jobs, do they? I had the best time today even reminding grown ass adults, "make sure you use the restroom before getting on the shuttle (and drinking another 18 beers)!"
Milo The Party Shuttle Limo Bus Driver had much to say this afternoon. I happened to be the lucky listener sitting in the front next to him. Now, I'm sure he would have stayed quiet if I had asked but he wanted to talk about travel and history and art and all the things I love so it was fine. Sometimes, listen. Don't talk. Listen. He didn't really ask anything of me and I could have been anyone really but I nodded and reacted and that made him happy. All people need sometimes is your ear. Both of them is even better.
I came to pick up the tickets for today's game earlier in the week and stopped just beneath the stairs where I once walked with my Pop. I still remember the ash from his cigarette hitting my arm in a way that wasn't really serious just a memory. I looked up the stairs and although my Pop is long since gone, all those memories were and still are on those stairs. Sure, maybe they belong in some stronger form to my brothers since they went to so many more games but I have my firsts, too. And I'm making new firsts. Finding new places sometimes and finding old places again in new ways. And in many ways realizing I weave them together as best I can. I like the old and the new and don't much plan on choosing one over the other.
Much love from Chavez Ravine,