Good MORNING, radio listeners!!

 

Old ass radio. Or 'vintage' if you prefer.

Old ass radio. Or ‘vintage’ if you prefer.

After two days of crying because of this, I was due a day of smiling, and some gut-busting laughter. That opportunity came today, after I picked The Beans up from school.

Every Thursday is ‘banking day’. Which roughly translates into ‘an excuse for our school district to make you pick your kid up early‘, I believe. I could be wrong, though. It’s happened before…on occasion. Anyway, because they get sprung early, we’ve made a sort of ritual out of the afternoons by going to Fro-Yo immediately after school. They get a treat before starting homework, I get to ‘check in’ on Facebook from somewhere besides my living room, so people think I have a life. It’s a win-win.

Well, today was an extra special treat.

On the way to Fro-Yo, we were listening to Radio Disney. Not such a strange thing, except today I was driving The Man’s car, and he doesn’t have the fancy-schmancy XM Satellite radio like my mom-mobile does. The music was coming through on AM1110, an AM station…complete with static. The hilarity ensued when….

Butter Bean asked, “What’s that noise, Mommy?” I reply, “That’s the radio, sweetie.” Sugar Bean chimes in with “You know, it’s the satellite causing the static.” Immediately, I correct her and say, “No, this car doesn’t have XM. The music is coming through on an AM station, and they can be static-y”. With that, Sugar Bean says “It figures. Why is this station even on right now? I mean, it’s an AM STATION. Don’t they only come on in the morning?” She said it with just enough certainty, there was no doubt she really believed it.

I almost peed my pants and crashed the car simultaneously, because I was laughing so hard. Seriously. Did my kid just say that? It was gooood, people. Priceless, in fact. I needed to tell someone right then.  So I called my sister. Both because I knew she would laugh her ass off with me, and also because she raised 2 daughters who had ‘those’ moments too, and wouldn’t think I had birthed a child whom I believe is quite smart, only to discover she the village idiot at the ripe old age of 12. The Man was at work, and unreachable,  so sharing this bit of comedy with him was out of the question 🙂

My sister reminded me of a conversation, that took place between my niece and I, while I was home visiting with Sugar Bean, who was only a year old, circa 2000. Meaghan was 15 or so, and I was 29. We were hanging out discussing the fact that she was the hardest person in the world to get out of bed for school every morning, despite the obnoxious alarm clock she owned.  Her alarm clock would wake the entire house, by blasting the Nickelodeon jingle “Nick, nick, nick, nick, na-nick, nick, nick….NICKELODEON!!!” at a decibel level that may not even be legal. They lived in rural Alabama, in a fairly large house and Meaghan’s room was upstairs. Everyone who slept downstairs could hear it. Their house sat on 110 acres, and their neighbors could hear it. Despite it being on her nightstand; she never stirred. Never hit the snooze button, if it even had one. And no, she isn’t deaf. Shocking, I know. Each morning started with someone else barging into her room, banging on the alarm clock until it shut up, and literally dragging her out of bed. Every. Morning.

Anyway, as I was complaining about the alarm clock waking the baby up every morning, she rebutted by saying, “Hey now. I love that clock. It’s a really good one. I’ve had it since I was in the 4th grade, and never once had to replace the batteries.” As I sat in complete disbelief, I calmly said “Meaghan. Does it plug into the wall??” “Uh-huh,” she replied, smiling at me with her big blue eyes wide open. I just shook my head and said, “It’s electric, Blondie.” We both erupted in laughter, and I’m pretty sure I wet my pants. The laugh was absolutely worth it.

I vowed to never let her live it down.

Here we are in 2006, acting like complete goofballs. She's a gem :-)

Here we are in 2006, acting like complete goofballs.

The dreams dashed. The dog died. The heart broke.

So tiny he almost got lost among the pillows!

So tiny he almost got lost among the pillows!

Monday was bad in epic proportion. The dashing of dreams, refers to that. But I will get to that later in a different post. Because, as bad as it was…it was a trip to Disneyland in comparison to yesterday. Today? Well…see for yourself.

The house is quiet, and I’m a mess. Still in my pajamas, even after taking The Girls to school. Sobbing. Probably only a matter of time before it turns into weeping, because I am exhausted, and will not have the energy left required to sob.

I miss Lester. A lot.

I got Lester in November 1998, when I traveled back home to attend my Granny’s funeral. He was the last of a litter of puppies my brother John’s dog, Aubie, had birthed. My brother had already named him Lester, after our Papa, and it really seemed to fit. The picture above was taken about a month after I got him. My reason for wanting him was simple: I had a tiny Miniature Dachshund named Edie who had been an only dog for a year, and she needed a friend. So I paid fifty bucks I didn’t have to put him on the plane with me. She was overjoyed to have a playmate and they have been buddies ever since. At one point, they tried to be more than friends, but we “nipped that in the bud”…literally. Lol. Shortly after Lester came to live with me and Edie, we all went to live with The Man at the beach. It was the beginning of our family. Two lovebirds and their K-9 babies 🙂

Over the years, we added to our family. Three precious daughters and a revolving door of dogs, cats, guinea pigs, lizards, bunnies….you name it! We are animal lovers, what else can I say? Each time a new critter came to hang out at our house, Edie and Lester just shrugged it off. They reigned supreme, and they knew it. We had them first. The Girls have been raised to love living creatures, so it’s no surprise that I have a treasure trove of priceless memories involving them and our pets. If y’all have pets, I’m sure you understand. The obvious drawback, is they don’t live forever. A reality our little family is faced with yet  again, in less than a year.

Almost a year ago, and just 3 weeks after we lost Leroi, our King Charles Cavalier to diabetes, Lester had a seizure while hanging out on the front lawn. The Man immediately rushed him to the vet. The diagnosis we received sucked. He had a Stage 3 heart murmur and was in congestive heart failure. Due to his robust size…almost 14 pounds…his heart was working in over-drive to circulate his blood. As a result, fluid was collecting around his heart and in his belly, putting pressure on everything. What I thought was a seizure, what in actuality, a heart attack. Essentially, his heart was being squeezed and his breathing compromised. All because he liked to catch scraps more than he liked to exercise, bless his bones! The vet said he would be lucky to make it another year. Medication was prescribed, and he was sent home. We vowed to let him enjoy the time he had left. No holds barred 🙂

All of us, but especially The Girls, took a renewed interest in him. Loved on him more, took him on extra walks, tried to no avail to teach him to play around, rather than just lay around. At first, his medication seemed to keep fluid retention and mini-heart attacks at bay, and put the spring back in his step. Of course all the attention certainly did! The Oldest even began having him sleep with her at night. Lester LOVED that, and sort of became her personal protector. He would seek her out at bedtime, and make her follow him to her room. HE was tired, and it didn’t matter if she was or not. LOL. But we all knew the inevitable was going to happen. We just didn’t know when. An agonizing purgatory to be caught in.

About 3 months ago, his ‘episodes’ increased. They became more frequent. Instead of having them once in a while, when he got excited, they often happened a couple of times a day, unprovoked, and he would lose control of his bladder/bowels.  Then he would stand back up, and appear normal. However, we noticed a change in his personality. The spark was fading from his eye, he no longer stood at our feet begging for food. You want to know the most notable change though?

He stopped his sympathetic crying. 

Throughout the course of The Girls lives, anytime Lester heard the sound of them crying, he howled like a banshee. Having 3 daughters in the house, you can imagine the amount of crying we witnessed…daily. Lester’s “sympathy” was a running joke among friends and family members. Inevitably, I would be on the phone talking to someone, a sibling rivalry would break out, causing an injury, and one or more of The Girls would cry. Lester would instantaneously begin making a sound that can only be described as shrill and eardrum splitting. “EYE, EYE, EYE, EYE..,” he would howl! In the midst of it all, the doorbell might ring, just because God thought it would add to the chaos and be damn funny. I swore I was going to get it all on video someday, but I couldn’t ever manage to diffuse all the problems and get everyone calmed down while handling a recording device. Go figure.

Anyway, about 2 weeks ago the CHF really started digging in and it was clear his time was approaching. His fluid medication was no longer controlling the retention very well. Despite continuing to eat, he was losing weight everywhere except his belly, and his mobility became compromised as a result. He didn’t want to walk anymore. Nothing to do but wait until he indicated he was ready to let go, or that he was in pain. So far, he hadn’t given us any indication of that.  Until Sunday morning, when he refused food for the first time in his life. Then Monday night, he started whining. I stayed up with him all night, cradling him in my arms and making him as comfortable as possible. When he lost control of his bladder, I bathed him in warm water, and gently dried him with the blow dryer. I hugged him as tight as I possibly could, without adding to his discomfort, while rocking and whispering to him how much we loved him and how we were going to miss him. I also told him about whom he could expect to see and play with in Heaven: Mama and Daddy; Leroi; Aubie (his mama); Hannah (my sister’s dog); Zoe & Ginger (my in-laws doggies); Mazzy & Keely (Vicky’s kitties); Sasha (Grace’s dog); Lucca (Shea’s dog) and Ben (our neighbor’s dog). I wanted to make sure he knew he would be in good company 🙂

Yesterday morning, The Man said his farewell to Lester before leaving for work. The Girls gave their before heading out to school. They were very brave, and no tears were shed. After the trauma of our loss a year ago, they were, obviously more prepared than I for the void about to be created in our lives. Once everyone had been delivered to their obligatory places, it was up to me. So, with a heart as heavy as stone, yet as fragile as glass, I pulled up my bootstraps, gathered him in his favorite blanket, and drove the half mile to the vet, with him in my lap. For his last visit. It was time to say goodbye to our precious doggie after 13.5 years. He was suffering, and we all knew it. It was the right thing to do, because he needed to rest peacefully.

The weather was shitty. Cold, gray and rainy. It’s the same today. Having called ahead, they were expecting me, and the entire staff was very sad. They knew Lester. They loved him too. It was awful, but their compassion made it bearable. He slipped peacefully into eternal rest, with his human mama holding his paw and kissing his nose. Once it was over, I sat in the room with him, alone, for what seemed like an eternity, yet not nearly enough time….crying.

And I haven’t stopped since.

We sure are going to miss this guy.

We sure are going to miss this guy.

Well, I couldn’t just sit here and watch, now could I?

It took a village, but we did it! Twice :-)

It took a village, but we did it! Twice 🙂

One year ago today, after returning from a Spring Break outing with The Girls, we decided to cool off in the pool. As I watched them splash and frolic, I logged onto FB and saw disturbing status updates from my friends and family back home in Alabama. Things like “angry skies here” and “debris falling in my yard y’all”. Immediately, I jerked up the phone and called my sister in North Alabama. Luckily, I got through, but what I heard on the other end was soul-shaking. My big sister, whom I’ve always known to be a pillar of strength, was crying hysterically. My own voice cracked, as I asked “What’s happening? Is everybody in our family okay? What do you need?” 

That phone call changed my life. Forever.

Some of the most devastating tornadoes on record ravaged my home state of Alabama that day. This EF-5 skipped over my sister’s home, but made contact with the ground just down the road from her, tearing up an entire community, quite close to my brother’s home. But that wasn’t the worst of it. My niece, Meaghan, who taught middle school in Tuscaloosa, was literally in the center of the devastation, and my sister couldn’t get down there to her. A mother’s panic. I know that feeling. Fortunately, I am happy to report that her life was spared by a sheer miracle from God, while everything around her crumbled. However, when the dust settled, she would discover that many of her students had been effected, and life would never be the same. Never.

For those of you unfamiliar with what a tornado looks like, you can see the one that ripped through Tuscaloosa here. And the devastation and confusion left in Limestone County, where I grew up, can be seen here. So many small rural communities were affected though. Some completely wiped out...Hackleburg, and Phil Campbell, just to name a couple.

I knew I only had one choice: start gathering donations to send back home. So that’s what I did. Without a clue in the world how I would get them there, I began collecting clothing and supplies. I blasted on FB that ‘my people’ needed help, and arranged a drop-off point at the school my girls attended. My friend Jen Levinson, who is the genius behind Jen’s List, helped get the word out too. Donations began to pour in. In 72 hours, I had more than I knew what to do with.

My own family had just downsized into a new house three weeks earlier, after losing ours to foreclosure (which I will get to later, in a different post). So I had plenty of boxes. But they were full of our stuff. What to do? Unload our stuff onto the floor and put the much-needed supplies for the tornado victims in the boxes. Bingo! By the time the sorting and boxing at my house was over with, it looked like I belonged on an episode of Hoarders. I shit you not. 

Anyway, despite the rapid response of friends, and the kindness of complete strangers, I still had a very big problem: WTF was I going to do about getting the donations 2000+ miles across the country to their destination? After calling multiple shipping companies, AND the USPS to see if they would ship the boxes for free, like they did when Hurricane Katrina hit in 2005, I pretty much hit a dead-end. I even contacted Charlie Sheen to see if he would be willing to bankroll it, since he was in need of some good PR at the time. At first the response was promising, but then he decided to donate a million dollars himself. Which let him off the hook. Soon, it became clear that I might have to rent a truck and drive them myself. Or rather, have The Man drive them 🙂

Then something wonderful happened. A friend from college, Spence Maughon, who saw my desperate pleas on FB, and who also happens to live in LA, sent me a message about another relief effort being organized here in town, in conjunction with Toomers for Tuscaloosa and RollBamaRoll. If you know anything about the history of Alabama Football, you know what a miracle it was for Auburn fans to be helping Alabama fans, because although both are state universities, they are bitter rivals on the field. Just Google “Iron Bowl. But I digress. A few emails later, I was in contact with the ring leader. A truly remarkable woman named Ashli Wolf. A kindred spirit who loves Alabama as much as I do, and knows exactly what a “church key” is. Over the course of the next few weeks, she would become my new best friend. She was already well into the organization of the T4T effort, so her house became Ground Zero. This is what it looked like in the days leading up to, and finally the night before the first truck left:

Tangible proof of the generosity of strangers.

Tangible proof of the generosity of strangers.

Even the kids did their part, learning a valuable lesson about helping and giving.

Even the kids did their part, learning a valuable lesson about helping and giving.

 

Friendships were formed during the wake of disaster. This is me and Mandi, sharing a laugh. She'll be a sister-friend for life.

Friendships were formed during the wake of disaster. This is me and Mandi, sharing a laugh. She’ll be a sister-friend for life.

 

We worked way into the night. And the next morning this stuff left on The Sunshine Express, bound for T-Town.

We worked way into the night. And the next morning this stuff left on The Sunshine Express, bound for T-Town. 

LITTLE DID WE KNOW, BUT THIS WAS JUST THE BEGINNING, FOLKS. 

Hauling pet food. Tornados effect everyone, you know.

Hauling pet food. Tornados effect everyone, you know.

Just after I snapped this photo, and while all the volunteers were busy sorting, boxing and getting this stuff ready for travel, The Man, decided to make a phone call. To Fox 11 News-LA. Just to give them the heads up about what we were doing out there in Woodland Hills. They sent Hal Eisner to cover us live, for the 10 o’ clock broadcast that night, and then sent Phil Shuman back out the next morning before the truck left. Needless to say, it opened up a few more possibilities to get help for the folks in Alabama. You can watch the clip here.

That is how California for Alabama was born. After the word got out about the FB page, we were flooded with tons of donations and volunteers from all over Southern California. Everything you can imagine, from hand sanitizer, toothbrushes and diapers to work gloves, shovels and cleaning supplies. Offers from a company in Moreno Valley poured in for free boxes to sort things into. Corey and Ruthie Braun, both UA Alumni, and owners of Chick-fil-A in Rancho Cucamonga, fed our volunteers. People donated entire apartments full of furniture. There was even an air hockey table!

So, how did we get it all there?

At first, the plan Ashli and I had was straight out of “I Love Lucy”. We were going to split the cost 50-50. She’d tell her hubs that I paid for it, while I told mine she did, just like something Lucy and Ethel would pull. One way or another, that stuff was getting there. Fortunately, Conway Trucking Company stepped in, and supplied us with a rig, a driver, and not one…but TWO 28 foot trailers to help with that, plus they covered the fuel costs! And again, Hal Eisner came out to cover the second round. 

People helping people, and belonging to each other. It just doesn’t get any better, does it? Powerful stuff to restore faith in humanity going on up in there, folks. And again, it didn’t stop once the truck rolled out of the driveway. In August 2011, with the help of Jennifer Blake, another sweet Bama Belle living in LA, we were able to hold a benefit and raise some money. With these funds, trees were purchased from Habitat for Humanity and planted where so many had been ripped from the soil. This made us, and Mother Nature happy 🙂

Poster from the Benefit

Poster from the Benefit

Me, Jen and Ashli explaining our mission.

Me, Jen and Ashli explaining our mission.

And cracking up like old friends do. Mind you, we'd all just met a few months earlier.

And cracking up like old friends do. Mind you, we’d all just met a few months earlier.

In closing, I would like to add that during all of this havoc, my oldest daughter was doing her required, 5th grade, state report on…you guessed it: ALABAMA. Not only was she able to report all the usual things needed to educate someone on the Great State of Alabama, she also included a section on how the tornadoes impacted the area and its victims. In addition, she told about how she, herself was able to directly help. The whole experience effected her deeply, and it was reflected in her report. Here was her display:

The best state report EVER.

The best state report EVER.

On this one year anniversary of the worst devastation Alabama has ever known, let me say I am beaming with pride to claim both Alabama and California as my home. I proudly display my Southern roots like a badge of honor as I journey through my Hollywood life. Today I salute you both!

xo,

The Calibamamom

*A very special thanks to my husband, Chris, who jumped onboard this effort with both feet, never once calling me crazy or saying it couldn’t be done. He stretched his time to its limits, juggling a busy work schedule with running the wheels off his truck picking up and dropping off people, as well as donations all over Los Angeles. HE MADE THE CALL THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING. His love for me, and my home state was never more apparent than during this crisis, and his unwavering support will never be forgotten.

**There are so many people who contributed to this effort, both here, and on the receiving end in Alabama. Here is a list of those I didn’t directly mention in the post: my sister, Shane Jackson and her ‘boots on the ground’ crew from Churches Involved in Athens, Alabama; David Wolf and the precious Wolf children (Joseph and Ava); Kirsten and Jeff Mason, and their family; Sarah Rathburn Hancock; Michael Brock; Paige Ryan; Cliff, the driver of the first truck; Sara Dean and her man, Kevin; Aubrey and Matt Vick; Deborah Guilfoyle and her family; Kim Poirier; Kecia Newton and her hubby; Ryan Stephens and the United States Navy men stationed at Port Hueneme; Kelly Flores; the guys at Tosh.0; Margie; Kathy Krodel Chester; all the parents and staff at First Presbyterian Weekday School; Leslie Aqua Viva; Lori Nelson; Heidi Myers; Eric and Elise Gilbert; Victoria Vaccaro; the band, OK GO!; Alfred Hopton; Kit Wallace and Blued Eyed Entertainment; Karen Sinclair Drake and her amazing company, Sophyto; Ann Mangini & Rafinity; Tracy Flores and her man, Alec; the driver of the second truck whose name I never knew; and ALL THE OTHERS WHO CONTRIBUTED GENEROUSLY, WITH NOT ONLY DONATIONS OF TANGIBLE GOODS AND SERVICES, BUT ALSO THEIR TIME AS WELL.

God Bless You All.

Damn. I just tripped over a memory.

**I wrote the following essay 2-1/2 years ago, as a note on FB. Just stumbled upon it and thought it was blog worthy. The video above is from my work with Mimoda Jazzo Gruppa, although I have…sadly… since left the company 🙂 

As some of you may or may not know, I have been a dancer my entire life. Started when I was small….about 5 years old, I think….and just kept running with it. Straight on through a degree majoring in the art of it at the University of Alabama. Whew! You might think getting your Bachelor’s degree in dance was a picnic. I assure you, it was not. Worked my ass off. Lost both my parents while still in college, and graduated with a big fat, WTF, am I gonna do now?” sign handed to me right along with my diploma. OH….I CAN TEACH….right. I’ll be honest. I hate teaching, and truly admire people who can do it, because I didn’t get that gene. A flaw, I know, but I get too effing frustrated trying to teach people how to do something that comes so naturally for me. Makes me madder than a wet hen when I run into a student who can’t do it, or worse, a dancer who can’t follow choreography. So what if I like to use “creative visualization” as tool for teaching dance steps? Get over it, and follow my instructions.

So I simply avoid the task. Problem solved.

Of course, I had grand dreams of dancing professionally, in a company….in New York. Didn’t know a soul there, and didn’t have 2 nickels to rub together to create enough friction to get there. Much less, money to live on until I could find a job to support my dancing habit. Without a support network to speak of, I was terrified to go. End of story? Not quite. A ray of hope shined through, and a friend who lived in Los Angeles, offered me a place to stay until I could get on my feet. So I decided that was God’s way of telling me that California would be my new home. After all, nothing left for me in Alabama, really.

My biggest fans had passed, landing front row seats in Heaven. Time for a new audience. 

That was in June of 1996.

Cut to present day…I still reside in my “Land of Opportunity” aka Los Angeles. I’ve lived all over the city, from the beach to the Valley and several places in between. Met The Man a year into my residence here, played hard to get for 18 months, and then married him in 1999.

So what have I been “doing” for the past 10 years, you ask? Have I been dancing professionally? Um….no. Life took me in a different direction, and that aspiration got put on hold….for 3 excellent reasons. Their names are Sugar Bean, Butter Bean and Sweet Pea. But now, they are all in school, and I have a little time for myself each week. And life has once again begun to work in strange, yet exquisite ways. Which brings me to this…..

At 37 years old, after giving birth to 3 babies and being largely absent from dance class for 10 years, I decided to audition for a new dance company, and I was accepted. My goal of being in a professional company…checked off the bucket list. YAY!! I posted about this a week ago, and was elated over it for 48 hours. Then I made the very difficult decision to turn down the invitation to join. For reasons I won’t get into here. Suffice to say, I settled into the reality that simply being asked was good enough for me. Although, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about calling the artistic director, claiming a momentary lapse of reason, and groveling until he let me join.

But…..remember…..my life works in strange ways. 

The phone rang yesterday, and it was his assistant calling. To invite me to rehearsal. Guess they are still hashing out the details of who’s in, and who’s out…..and I got a reprieve. A second chance without asking. I was speechless, and it’s hard to render me speechless. Lol.

Anyway, I am chalking it up to divine intervention. God is trying to tell me something. He opened a window because I needed a way out, after someone else shut the doors. I closed the window because of a draft. Thought it was locked, but now He has thrown me the key.

I’m not stupid. I have my first rehearsal from 5pm to 9pm tonight.

Oh, and here’s something my sister wrote about me, I think is pretty relevant to this story. Enjoy 🙂

TINY DANCER by Shane Jackson

She captured the hearts of many; a hard life up ahead.

Found her heart was broken, her parents both were dead.

She dug deep into her soul, the strength she found within,

With high hopes and her tears, her journey did begin.

I stood there pleading loudly, “Please sweetheart stay with me.”

But I knew deep inside that, I was not what she needs.

So on my knees I prayed hard, “Dear God, please wrap her soul.

Protect my precious sister, on the road she chose so cold.”

Today the years have flown past, on each we’ve leaned quite hard.

Though loss of memory plagues us, our pain seems now afar.

She told me of a story, that brought her heart so near.

Each time she entered God’s House, out of nowhere tears appeared.

This tiny dancer sparks up and beams a sun filled glow,

To anybody she sees, and everywhere she goes.

To her family, and 3 children now, she plays the role of life.

God’s work upon this dancer, leaves you knowing God’s great might.

If ever you seem troubled, or feel your load to much to bear,

Remember the Tiny Dancer, who faced life’s utmost dare.

He’ll never leave you lonely; He’ll never stray away.

If you continue praying,

You’ll dance like her one day.

🙂 

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