Lessons in Road Trips

Brought to you by the 101, Sheryl Crow, Natalie Merchant and, well, yes....cupcakes.  (one)

I had an urgent need to rent a car and head north this weekend. Something in my brain and in my heart is feeling full of uncertainty in nearly every area of my life and the only thing that made sense was to drive.

I learned a couple things along the way. Well, you knew that, didn’t you? *smile*

1. The guy behind the counter has big dreams.
My car is janky, that has been made clear by now and the need for me to rent something less-janky was apparent. I went to Enterprise and ended up with a sweet ride at a sweet deal. More importantly, Enterprise Guy Behind The Counter Reading Kurt Vonnegut surprised me. Not only was he kind, major Enterprise Shocker but he spilled his guts, “This isn’t what I want to be doing.”

How many can echo that statement?

He’s a writer and he doesn’t know what to do and it sounds like no one believes in him. Well, I do. And I did. And I gave him some very good tips wrapped in a very good cheer and went on my way. He walked back behind the counter in his black suit with an extra creative skip in his step.

2. Stop for blueberries.
When you see a sign that says, “Blueberries Ahead ¾ of a mile” you stop. You do. And stop for other such things. Make hard rights instead of staying on the path and on your itinerary. If blueberries present themselves, well, then blueberries shall be.

3. Ask your expert advisor.
I have finally learned to rely on my expert advisors especially when it comes to bakeries. They know things, those bakery girls. Ask them what people order the most and get that. Don’t get the other thing. And definitely don’t get the thing you ALWAYS order. That’s the last thing you want to do on a road trip. Blah.

Oh, and buy sweet orange marmalade with pretty pink labels because it would be a crime not to. (I love pink bakery boxes with tape on the side and the ones tied with string make me want to swoon.)

4. A mess is okay.
Yesterday I played Natalie Merchant most of the day while driving and although I adore her if I heard, “If no one ever marries me” one more time I was going to drive my car into The Pacific and keep my seatbelt on. I switched things up to Sheryl Crow today and she had a nice, really multicultural mix going on and that set well with my soul. And one song, whether you agree with the message or not, had a great line, “God bless this mess.”

God bless this mess. That’s me. That’s my life right about now. It’s a little messy. I’m a bit out of sorts. That’s what all the driving is about and needing to move and think and sing and write and put things into compartments when they are floating around loosely in my head. I don’t like things floating around loosely in my head. It hurts.

I pulled over on the side of the road and messaged a new sweet friend who made the comment, “It’s okay” after discussing some of her very not okay things. Sometimes it’s not okay and sometimes it’s a mess and that is okay and a mess is okay and trying to make it not a mess makes it even messier.

For now, I’m going to rest in the mess of it all.

5. Find pockets of prettiness.
They are out there and they are so close to you and you don’t even know it. Mere miles away and I finally made it to Abbot Kinney in downtown Venice. I always thought Venice was full of naked jugglers on the beach and so I wasn’t in much of a rush to visit. There’s more to it. Yup. Pockets of prettiness are all over the place if you take the time to search them out and get outside of your routine.

I finally found somewhere to park and was immersed in gorgeous shops, great food trucks just parked along the street and the kindest shop owners that didn’t treat me like I was an Orange County Jackass. I like that.

Oh, if you go, make sure you wear some shade of blah. Much easier to fit in if fitting in is what you want to do. (It’s my new favorite place. Shh.)

A couple more things for the road.

1. That girl you saw in the Oliver Peoples in a gray tshirt and striped sweater rolling down her window and talking, well, yelling, to the ocean? That wasn’t me.

2. Found a shop that treats you well and is kind to you when you walk in the door? Frequent it. I found one that had all these imports from Paris and every corner turned there were more pieces and parts and pretty things to see and touch and explore and sometimes I forget that there is that much pretty out there. There is.

3. The woman behind the ticket counter at the Santa Barbara Museum of Art asked if I needed a student admission. I think everyone should go there all the time. Forever.

4. There are a lot of crazies in Santa Barbara. I fit right in.

5. There are a couple more crazies in Venice but less so, I’d say it’s more about The Pot. Everyone’s rather, ehem, happy and relaxed and really take their time crossing the street.

6. If you drive to Solvang and remember it looks just like it did 15 years ago, make a u-turn.

7. Dosas (Indian crepes) are good. So are cupcakes off trucks. So are baked goods on State St. Before I came home, I bought a new scale. No, really I did.

I have to turn the rental car back in today.  I have to turn the weekend back in today also.  It's back to normal playlists and office meetings and corporate attire with "no embellishments" and certainly "no colored jewelry" and things of that sort.

I'll wait for another weekend and perhaps go on another adventure and head in another direction and even if the arrow points in one direction I might go another.  It all depends where the blueberries are planted.

Much love this Messy Monday,
Cole

Just Give.

Brought to you by crinkled sandwich bags.

No big lessons today.  And don't think I think I always know what I'm talking about.  I'm learning like everyone else just in a more wrinkled state than you. 

I drove back from an event meeting today and there was this sweet looking guy right around my baby brother's age sitting on the side of the freeway with his dog.  It was practically a country music video.

Stay with me.

And he had his sign and whether you agree with giving or not to someone with a sign is not something I care to discuss.  I'm talking about me and what my heart is called to do.   And my damn heart cannot go past someone with a sign or a need and not try or attempt to meet it.  I fail miserably at times.  I'm not the best meeter of needs but I want to be a better one.  So, guy with his sign is sitting there and has no judgement in his eyes and nothing about him is pleading for money.  Nope, he's just holding the sign.  And I look around my car and have not a dollar on me. 

Makes me sick. 

And then I look for a new water bottle or something to give him and there's nothing.

Even sicker-er-ish.

Ah.  There's that bag of change in the center console from when I was flat out broke and was living off change.  You know?  Some of you have been there when you're down to the baggie and a quarter is like a $50.00 bill.  Those times.  Well, I had the bag, rolled down my window and shamefully said, "I'm so sorry this is all I have."  He smiled as if I had just handed him keys to a mansion. 

I don't give so I can tell you.  I give because my heart is not okay unless I do. 

Later today someone commented on my earrings.  As I took them off to give them away, I realized I am at my best when I am giving and not taking.

Sometimes it's coins in worn baggies.  Sometimes it's earrings.  Sometimes they are very big things and sometimes they are very small things.  All I know is I am too old not to listen to my heart.

Give what you have.  And then give some more,
Cole

The Twang Invasion

Brought to you by The South.

If you walk by my apartment anytime in the next four to five days, expect to hear yelling and arguments and probably some screaming and the way you'll know you are at the right place?  The Twang.

See, it takes over all of us at some point during the weekend.  Some of us are from the south and some of us have daddies from the south.  Not "daddies".  Daddies.  Dirty Bird, You.

Just prepping for this trip, I can feel the twang starting to form in my throat.  So, yes, expect y'alls and things of that sort.

And so you don't feel left out, I'll let you know who'll be in town.

Miss Larkin.  The ringleader.  Itinerary driven.  Claims to be breezy but...well, isn't.  Always has to fly here because none of us are sure where Arkansas is.

Ally "Red".  Lives in Canada.  Is the only woman we know that will rock a bikini on a public street without covering her ass.  Has two adorable boys.  One she kisses sweet and one she kisses very bad.

Miss Aimee. Our newest hot momma. This was Aimee last time we were all together.  Baby Gavin is now viewing Orange County from the outside with his gorgeous momma and dad.  Aimee is the calm to our storm.

Stacia Rae.  Stacia has over 1,000 pictures to choose from but I think this defines her.  Sassy but sweet at the same time.  She should have a tip jar in front of her everywhere she goes.  Terribly entertaining.

D "Sissy".  Our outings tend to be costly to Davina.  Running out of gas and getting towed and all things Car Trauma.  We are crossing all available parts for good car results this time. 

Miss Blue.  Guest appearances by Chris this weekend as time permits.  (See five children.  Further comments needed?  I think not.)





And me.  You have enough pictures of me.  Don't think I won't take a million more this weekend, y'all.

Much love,
Cole

Lessons in Shorts: Short Films, Short Stories and Brief Bursts of Loneliness

Brought to you by all things brief.

You should have seen me. I was sitting there, at The Getty, in a corner of this gorgeous patio area tucked as far back as I could tuck, eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

It wasn’t the way I imagined things. Nope.

You might think I have this adventuring alone thing all figured out. I don’t. Most of the time, I enjoy it tremendously. Most of the time. Saturday, I didn’t at all.

Nope, again.

The nice thing about loneliness is it is short. It’s a feeling and it goes away. And I have an option to sit in it all moping and lost in my PB&J or break free from it by talking to someone at the next table or watching people or just breathing and enjoying the loveliest view.

I didn’t.  I almost had the welling-of-the-tears in my eyes. But my loneliness was short lived. Sitting there with that sandwich The Boyfriend texted, “Miss you.” I sighed that huge heavy sigh when you feel the heart full of being wanted and missed and replied, “I needed that. Feeling a bit lonely. Not so brave today. Miss you.”

Wrapping up my sandwich and finishing my soda and watching all the pairs of people, I picked up my bag and headed into The East Pavilion.

da Vinci helps.  So does Degas.  So does a text telling you you're missed.  That is the best form of art. 

I suppose it was a bit of a theme this week.  Shorts and all.  Short bursts of loneliness and short films at Newport Beach Film Festival and Selected Shorts at The Getty.  I'm liking the briefness of it all. 

Some Short Lessons

Know Your Audience
You know that leftover sinus cough that takes seven years to go away? It should be named after me. If you’re going to cough during a film festival screening, make sure your cough sounds ultra educated and cultured. If there’s any trucker-side-of-the-roadness to it, they will kick your ass.

Partner in Grief
A Shine of Rainbows has so many beautiful, sweet lessons but my heart was tugged by grief and how it shortens when you allow others to experience it with you.

You Can Leave
Yes, you can. If you don’t like a movie, you can quietly leave. Perhaps during a film screening it’s not the best time but if you’re at the theatre and see something that doesn’t impress you, then simply walk out gracefully. Don’t waste another minute in a moment that does not feed your brain or your heart or your innards. Especially your innards.

Hellos Help
I was Friend Dumped twice this weekend. Drinks Friday night and a little outing Saturday. Looking back, it was exactly as it should be and allowed me to experience the painful quiet of not engaging with people. In the middle of Friday night tears, it hit me how many footsteps walk past a homeless man every single day without even a head nod in his direction. That pains me in deep ways. How long must his day be without the engagement of even a stranger.

Fit People In
The Getty did a program of Selected Shorts and one of the stories was, "Things We Knew When the House Caught Fire" by David Drury, read by Keith Szarabajka. Drury’s short delves into a family that completely doesn’t fit into a neighborhood and the neighborhood's attempt to get them out.

We will spend our lives trying to be in and accepted and chosen and picked and on THAT team. How much easier to fit people in ahead of time and not make them do cartwheels to be our friends or fit in our neighborhoods or be part of our group. It’s a quick decision to embrace rather than disgrace people.

My days don't always turn out the way I plan them but they turn out so much better and I'm committed at this ripe old Pre Middle Age to listen and learn and, most importantly, love.

A good night to you but just a short one.  It's late. 
Cole

Lessons From Mom

Brought to you by the number 8.

My mother died on April 22, 2001.   The first year it stung all the time.  The second year it stung on certain days and most major holidays.  Mother's Day was a bitch.  I remember standing in the kitchen while baking a cake and thinking how absurd it was that I was celebrating this holiday when my mom was dead.  After that, it was certain smells, certain sounds and certain memories.  I'm grateful that the passing of time makes great grief less great. 

I didn't know that the first year.  I wish someone had shown me the grief playbook. 

Nine years later.  Today.  And the morning is not full of sobs but laughter with friends.  And work and life and emails and texts and plans for the weekend and all the sorts of things a Thursday should have in it because it's, well, a Thursday and that's what Thursdays do. 

And even though it's a Thursday and not a THURSDAY.  And even though it's the 22nd and not THE 22ND, it still feels right to share some things I learned along the way from my mom.

1. No shortcuts.
As soon as my mom died, I had a really quick sweet dream.  My mom was leaning against a tree and we reached out to say goodbye to each other.  She started to walk down a long path inside a gate and I went to take, yup, a shortcut.  She looked back and pointed in her direction.  I knew then the road would be long but worth it.  I knew taking the easy way wouldn't be any longer.

2. Give when no one is looking.
My mother was a master at this.  She would put a young Latino kid through the fire academy rather than invest in a new car for herself.  She clothed people without fanfare.  She fed them and listened to them and prayed for them and loved them.  And she gave when she was sure no one was looking.

3. Find your sea.
I go to museums because my mother took me to them.  And she went to the sea because her father took her there.  There are many reasons we find our "place" but whatever you do, find it.  Go to it.  Make it your place and make it a refuge.

4. Have Yes Days
We were little, my brother and I, and my mother took us on a Yes Day.  It went horrible.  We went camping at the beach and locked the keys in the trunk of the car and it was not our greatest adventure, but still, it was an adventure.  And, the fact that it stands out to this day, there's something very YES about that.

5. Have a carnival in your backyard.
Rio Lempa Drive in Hacienda Heights was THE place to live.  My mother was a teacher and a really creative one and threw a bad ass carnival which probably speaks to me being an event director now.  So, this carnival had booths and games and I wish I was older and could remember more of it.  I do know that my best friend Audra Dial wore a dress and I had on jeans and wanted to go inside and change but was so glad I didn't since I ended up sliding down the dirt hill at the end of the day. 

Remember, I like being with the boys. 

The point is.  You can do things small or you can have a carnival in your backyard.  Live really big like that, you know? 

6. Something physical.  Something artistic.  Something educational.  Something cultural.
That was the rule.  And I'm not sure she spelled it out as clearly as that all the time but that was the deal.  We had to play an instrument and if we didn't do that then we had to participate in a performing art of some sort.  And the grades had to kick ass.  And then there had to be a sport.  And she brought in the cultural piece on the side with trips and music and such.  I am balanced in my want of these things today because of my mom.

God.  She was pretty cool, huh?

7. Write.  Draw.  Sing.  Act. 
Dance, Little Girl.  And sing, Darling Girl.  And Direct, Sweet Boy.  If these are your dreams then...do them!  My mother was a writer, a very quiet one.  And maybe she never wanted to do anything big with her words but still, she wrote anyway.  A piece for you, well, for us but for you.

November 1984 (written in my Spanish class, recalling the morning)

Mis Ninos -

You are my celebration,

In the early hours

Of my morning

I see you sleeping -

   And I hear a song.

For every day is a gift

And I will

Sound a quiet bell

Light a single candle

And thank my Lord

That you are safe

   And you are here.

-Michele Esperon-Harmonson

Much love to you this April 22, this very sweet April 22,
My mom's daughter

Lessons in Baseball

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)!"

11. Listen

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,

Cole

Lessons in a Village

I should have known this morning when my power steering was out...again!  It wasn't the power steering at all.  It was my flat front tire that I drove, oh, shall we say, miles and miles and miles on all day long?  That one.

And then it happened.  I pulled up at Smart and Final to stock up on booze (for a party, hold the judgement) and this lady gave me the dirtiest Orange County look I'd seen since, umm, yesterday.  I rolled down my window to give her one back.  Okay, I didn't.  I rolled down my window to ask what her problem was and she said, "Your tire has like THIS MUCH air in it!"

THIS MUCH meant not so much.  Emphasis on the lower case. 

I drove to Chevron and put air in it as two men watched me.  Ahh, gentlemen.  You must not have sisters or internal organs...that beat.  And then I started madly looking for some auto garage that would still be open at 7:30 at night.

There aren't many in Orange County in case you were wondering. 

I drove halfway to Walmart and then realized it was closed and then called around for the nearest Pep Boys and it was one street over which would have been so easy if I was not a complete moron with directions.  Translation: I ended up back on the freeway headed south when I should have gone north and wasted more of the precious air in my flattening tire.

Grrr.

I learned something this evening.  It takes a village to raise me.  Well, it takes a village for me to get a flat tire unflattened, fixed, normalized, drive worthy. 

Tonight's Village

Walmart Lady That Hung Up On Me

She meant well, really she did.  I called to see if their service department was open and she didn't tell me just transferred me.  I called back one more time and asked in my "firm voice".  She apologized and said they closed 10 minutes ago.

Miss Chloe

I was supposed to be at Taco Tuesday tonight but have an assistant who does amazing play by play via text.  Miss Chloe stayed at the event therefore allowing me to deal with the tire.  I love text.  I hear the event was "omg awesome".

Pep Boys

My heroes.  They took the car.  They found her in urgent need of repair.  They fixed her.  I'm in auto store love with this place. 

Mimi's Cafe

I had to kill time while the car was being fixed and had three choices: Mimi's Cafe, Jack in the Box or stop by the liquor store which happens to be the one that guy owns that held me captive that one night.  Mimi's it is.  The host called me Miss.  I loved him.  My server called me ma'am.  Seven times.  I don't love him. I don't love him at all.  Not even a little.  And he has the worst hair anyone in the world has ever had, well except for that one guy that used to work at WFS that got the plugs and needed the desk fan cause he sweat so much.  Still, I don't love him at all. 

People, Twitter People

You.  You followed along on my adventure.  You commented.  You made snarky remarks and you laughed and you told me other places nearby to eat dinner.  And what that really means is that you, dear friends, cared.  Whether you live close or far, you cared and that is just huge in the hugest way something can be huge. 

The Boy

I didn't need to text him a big, "Help!"  I was okay.  I had someone tell me the tire was flat.  I had someone to fix it.  I had somewhere to go to eat dinner.  I had people to chat with while I waited.  And when I came home he texted after reading the whole adventure, "Oh, baby.  Just seeing car drama.  Wish I could fix.  Sending kisses to my independent super girl."

And that's what I needed as soon as I got home.  I needed, I wanted to be loved on. 

You, you are my community.  All of you.  And sometimes I know you and sometimes you are strangers and sometimes I adore you and sometimes I think you are giving me dirty looks when really, really you are helping me. 

It took a village to raise me tonight.  Huh?  This independent super girl can do much on her own but loves having you all along for the journey. 

Putting my cape away for the night,

Cole