Under a Red Roof

Zero to Sixty, Pronto!

October 30, 2008 in Remembering, Writing by Colleen | 6 comments

My very first serious crush was on Steve White. He was skinny (just like I like ’em), with a nice smile and sparkly eyes that wrinkled at the corners when he laughed. Gosh, I wonder where he is and what he’s doing. I remember that he was good at math and not asking me to be his girlfriend, so I would imagine that added up to some sort of success because I was rather tenacious, and I’m pretty sure he got good grades. I liked him for a long time, seriously, like five years starting in seventh grade, bless his heart. Steve, if you’re out there, I wish you well, and sorry if I was a bit much at times. I was young, and, well, I think I can blame it entirely on youth. Yes, I can.

In high school, he drove a Camaro similar to yesterday’s post (though it might have been a Z28, not a SS) – orange with black stripes. It was a grand car – black interior, a nice rumble, hefty doors that made a pleasant sound when you closed them, the works. It even started without a key in the ignition, which led us to believe that previous owners were some sort of thieves that always wanted a quick getaway.

I remember him driving fast, and the accompanying feeling of exhilaration rising in my belly. I remember, too, him saying, and me learning for the first time, “You know, it’s possible to go faster than what it says, given the right conditions.” The thought had never occurred to me. Those numbers weren’t the absolute LIMIT? Something could happen beyond them? Mind boggling.

You’re probably wondering where I am going with all of this. To cut to the chase (in a 1969 Camaro!), I am participating, along with my friend Kelli, in the National Novel Writers Month (NaNoWriMo). For the month of November, it is my goal to crank out the first 50,000 words of my second novel: The Sometimes Sordid History of My Penmanship. This really is like cruising in Steve’s cool car. My belly’s gonna flip-flop for certain. To give you an idea, yesterday’s post was 503 words. I’m going to need 100 times that in thirty days.

As a writer, and according to the guidelines, I am starting only with a rough outline, a few locations, the names of the four main characters (Lionel, Cassandra, Joanna, and Calvin), a 1966 Volvo P1800, and a 1954 Chevy 3100 pick-up (If you haven’t figured it out already, I’ve got a thing for cars). The rest, to paraphrase Kurt Vonnegut, is up to me and the hand of God, as 1667 words per day, every single single day for thirty, is no small feat. When I wrote Polite Society (80,645 words), I took well over a year, often going for weeks without touching the keyboard. My best day, if I recall correctly, amounted to 2300 words.

Talk about a wiz-bang! Additionally, aside from updates on my word count, I don’t know what it will look like around here. I might, as Steve said, go beyond the limit of my speedometer and have time to spare for blogging and who knows what else (Square dancing?! Fencing?!). On the other hand, I may go out of my mind and never blog again from the shock of it all. In any case, say a little prayer, send me good thoughts, whatever you feel comfortable with. I’d appreciate it!

p.s. Just to get me into the zone – that up there is 579 words.

Sounds Like Fall

October 17, 2008 in Listening, Remembering, Spotlighting by Colleen | 1 comment

I had some friends over last night and this was one of our musical selections. It is such a great soundtrack for fall, though I don’t quite know why I make this association. Which reminds me of a funny story.

When I was in high school and college, I listened to a lot of Van Morrison, because, well, that is what one does isn’t it? Golly, he was everywhere I went back then. Anyway, there is this song, “Jackie Wilson Said,” one that I always associated with Christmas. I was with my friend Mitch and we were singing along to it, and I mentioned that fact to him, when suddenly the answer came. He smiled and said, “It wouldn’t be that would it?” Sure enough, it was, “ding-a-ling-a-ling…” I just about peed my pants with laughter. Darn Christmas bells hiding in plain sight like that.

So there may be something that I’m missing with The Hour of Bewilderbeast, but here’s what I do know. The CD is nice and long (no feeling cheated – I paid that much for thirty minutes?!) and, musically, it goes all over the map. There are some ethereal themes, rockin’ tunes, quirky sounds (think underwater), and down right sweet lyrics. If you are a fan of the film About a Boy (Hugh Grant’s best, I think), this is the man in charge of that sound track. Good listening!

Unscheduled Visit Down Memory Lane

September 18, 2008 in Remembering by Colleen | 2 comments

So, it’s been a bit hectic around our casa this past week. We got some new windows and started repainting the guest room walls and chest of drawers, which doesn’t really sound like much, except for the fact that none of these jobs is entirely complete (for many reasons), and my house is a wreck – piles of junk everywhere, no window treatments on the windows, no screens on the windows either, so the house is muy caliente (no screens = closed window = hot), messy, and a general source of stress for this aspiring author.

Long story short, I had every intention of posting some glorious photos of our hard work, but since it is not done (soon!), and the lighting is too poor at the moment to show a work in progress, I started searching my photos for blog inspiration.

This is what I found – our first apartment. For those big fans I’m going to have after my novel is finished – you can drive by the next time you are visiting Denver. 11th and Lafayette, two blocks west of Cheesman Park, two blocks east of Downing, walking distance Peter’s Chinese, downtown, Cherry Creek, and King Soopers – the home of the long john. For those who don’t know, a long john is a bar doughnut that is filled with either a pudding, a white cream, or chocolate cream. So delicious! Why is there nothing like this in Portland?! Mysteries abound. It’s probably better that way – I’d just eat them, and what good would that be to my thighs?

Anyhoo, we were the top corner unit. It was a great apartment for us to start our life together – two bedrooms, neat French doors, great light, a cool faux fireplace, very nice. Much, much better than the first building Gregory and I saw. It was a horrible, serial killer-esque place on Washington – a Spanish style building, complete with creepy metalwork, dingy white brick with excess blobs of mortar oozing out, hideous. Gregory smiled at me and said, “I can see us living there.” Horrified (and seriously concerned about the sanity of my hubby), I burst into tears, and blubbered something pitiful, letting him know in no uncertain terms that this would NOT be our first home together. Now, whenever we see a scary looking abode, we laugh and say, “I can see us living there.” Time really does heal all wounds.

We spent just over four years there, making friends, enjoying the neighborhood, going from having a card table, computer (come on – the G-man is a software guy), television, and bed, to owning an apartment full of stuff (these things are like bunnies) including a real wood dining table and chairs, a sofa, and of course, art! It was a very happy time.

I don’t need no posse!

August 12, 2008 in Remembering, Watching by Colleen | 1 comment

That is one of my favorite quotations from Bernie Mac, who sadly passed away on Saturday. From all I learned about him during his short life of only fifty years, it really sums him up. He was his own guy – irreverent and hilarious with a heart of gold – he didn’t need anyone to back him up.

While I was less keen on his stand-up – it being a bit racy for my taste, I loved his television show and his appearances in movies like Ocean’s Eleven and Bad Santa. The man could make me laugh – fully belly, grab a tissue, you better make sure you go to the bathroom first, so you don’t have an accident kind of laughter.

His show was definitely not your typical program about a guy raising kids. He wasn’t cute or silly in his foibles, which, for me, made it all the more real. He struggled with the idea of spanking, wanted to be a man, yet enjoyed a manicure from his favorite Korean lady and was always on the lookout for ways to keep his hands soft. He loved bubble baths, cigars, and a good game of poker. My absolute favorite part of the series was when he would sit in his chair and address the audience – mostly to explain himself, sometimes to ask us for advice, calling us “America,” calling us into his telelvision world. So very good.

I guess it was his turn to be called elsewhere. Thanks for the laughter, Mr. Mac, because, unless you actually knew him, he didn’t like to be called Bernie.

Paradox?

August 9, 2008 in Quoting, Remembering, Thinking by Colleen | 2 comments

I was a weird kid. I loved classical music when other kids liked the Eagles, did not enjoy the Dukes of Hazzard, preferred being alone, and liked lying on the dining chair on my belly with the plate on the floor while eating. However, I think my crowning glory of weirdness was when I had a “thing” for Richard Nixon in the fifth grade. I wouldn’t call it a crush, more like a curious fixation, so much so that my Halloween costume was what I’d call “casual” Nixon. I wore a mask (of course), white button-down shirt, and a cardigan, with a pair of slacks and loafers. I looked good and I gua-ran-tee that I was the only child at my school, or my neighborhood for that matter, dressed in such a fashion.

Why do I bring this up? Yep, you guessed it, here I go with another anniversary. Richard Milhouse Nixon resigned from the Office of President of the United States thirty-four years ago today. You may still be wondering where I am going with this. Holy smokes Colleen! This is the guy who resigned because of Watergate, helped wreak havoc in Vietnam, and said such horrible things (on tapes that he made) about minorities and Jewish people that it makes me wanna say, “Did you kiss your mama with that mouth?!”

Now who is the paradox, right? Well, I’ve never said I’m an easy person to figure, ever. But, Tricky Dick was a paradox, too, and in many ways, quite a good president. Here’s a list of some pretty amazing accomplishments that occurred under his administration:

– Rapprochement with China (Only Nixon could go to China!)

– Regularization of relations with the Soviet Union, including encouraging the Kremlin to abandon plans for a submarine base in Cuba.

– Return of U.S. Prisoners of War in 1973 (including John McCain – sorry Amber)

– Return of Okinawa to Japanese Sovereignty in 1972

– Establishment of the EPA

– Extension of the Voting Rights Act which abolished literacy tests for voters, among other things

– Achieved voluntary desegregation of schools in the Deep South

– Established the Office of Minority Business Enterprise and the Department of Commerce, as well as the Philadelphia Plan to increse the hiring of minorities

– Establishment of Title IX – very important to us ladies

– Reorientation of Federal Native American policy to encourage tribal self-determination rather than assimliation into American society and culture

I guess where I am going with this is that life and people are not as black and white as we make them out to be. Goodness and righteousness need not be paradoxical. We may not always see it in others, particularly those we dislike, because it is hidden under arrogance, cruelty, or our own clouded judgement, but it is there. Moreover, regardless of our political affiliations, religious background, income level, or race, we are all capable of and have committed grievous errors in judgement and conduct. We just haven’t been exposed on the national stage. This does not make us bad people. It makes us human.

So, what better way to remember Nixon than to remind ourselves that it may not always be the easiest path, but it is better to be lonely in kindness, caring, and forgiveness than among a crowd in hatred. Nixon, on his last day, knew this too. It was a bit late for him, but his words ring true:

“Always give your best, never get discouraged, never be petty; always remember, others may hate you, but those who hate you don’t win unless you hate them, and then you destroy yourself.”