Two Minute Titanic

A new Guest Services Coordinator (GSC) has been hired here at the 'Gap, and today was her time to meet the housekeeping ladies. As I was in there with them, it was also my opportunity to hang out with her. The outgoing GSC brought in muffins and over the whir of dryers, said, "Ok, give us the three-minute version of your story."

[this is the part where I tell another story that doesn't seem to be connected, until I brilliantly bring it all back around to a dramatic A-ha! moment, and by A-ha I don't mean like the band of "Take On Me" fame, I mean epiphany-esque]

Lori Connor was on YL staff in VA, and made one particular skit so famous no other can even compare to her. The skit was called "Two-Minute Titanic" and in it she (dressed as Mary Katherine Gallegher) reenacted the entirety of James Cameron's epic movie in two minutes, hence the title of the skit. Well, it was hilarious. Like snorting, stuff flying out the nose, table pounding hilarious. As 99.9% of you know, Kate and Leo did not act in a comedy. It was far from a comedy, besides lines like "I'm king of the world!" and "I'll never let go..." I mean it ends in a Celine Dion song. No comedy should end with Celine. The reason the skit was funny was because only the highlights of the movie were mentioned, and by adding over-acting to the mix, the weight of the material was lost. Something tragic became something breezy and laughable.

[Now we cut back to the scene in the laundry, where I sit, Ingles blueberry muffin in hand]

I sat in the room with two women in their mid-60s, one in her late-40s, and two of us in our mid to late-20s. Our lives told in three minutes? How do you even begin? That breaks down to about 3 seconds a year for the older ladies; what do you say? What could come out in three minutes that isn't breezy and out of context or factual but implacable on a timeline?
Life is not that easy or neat; life is messy. It is not a three minute story, I don't care how boring you are. I understand the intended purpose of the activity; I just feel its a convenient way to feel like there is background on a person when what you know is what they told you in three minutes. We use it a lot in YL and all too often it breeds a false sense of intimacy. I'd much rather hear the 45 minute version, the hour version, the one told over days and weeks. I don't know why it ruffled me like it did; apropos I guess.

Water Works

First I must worn all readers: I am currently heavily medicated, so if my sentences stray or grammar slips, blame the pills. Only the second or third time since I've been at the 'Gap (place, not store) that I've had to drug up the nervous system on account of my back and today has been especially painful, laying into my hips and shoulders in addition to the normal back pain. I'm propped up on the pills. Just call me Garland.

---Wallowing is through, continue on---

So part of work today had me sitting by the creek for ten minutes, thinking. I do wish this was a job requirement for any and all gainful employment; much good could come from it.
Years ago I dated a fellow kayaker who made me a little boater out of leftover outfitting foam. He carved the little man into an exact replica of one of the hottest boats at the time, and gave him weight to help him paddle better. I instantly loved the new toy. Weeks later we took what was to be a great expedition to run Passage Creek, a steep class III-IV technical run. We loaded the boats, our camping gear, our paddling gear and headed out to Elizabeth Furnace, only to discover that Passage had already peaked and the flow was once again down to a steady crawl. There was no paddling to be had.
So what we did was pull out our little kayaking buddies and played in the creek with them the rest of the weekend. Standing shin deep, cheering and laughing at the toys as they ran what we couldn't. It was such simple fun. Vicarious paddling at 3 inches tall. Now whenever I see a little creek I think about that trip and that toy and how he'd run it and I smile.
Too many days make me wish I could do more than vicarious paddling, but sitting by that creek today I was thankful that I simply am. God has granted me a deep love for water and I must be restful in the fact that there is a purpose for that love; that it wasn't for a fleeting moment.

That little boater is wrapped gently in a small box next to my bed. He's moved with me everywhere I've gone. Sometimes I'll pull him out and play with him. I don't know if I'll ever be able to see him go.

And All But Cry With Colour!

It's nearly 1AM and I am done with work for the day. Whew. Once again the stars are clear and bright here in the cove, and my headlamp did little to even whisper in the ear of the great spectrum. The more I think on it, the more I realize that fall really is my favorite season. I like the feeling of settling in for the long winter, the snuggling of sweaters and wool hats, the ability of mittens to turn the stern into children. Crispness of air and breath, leaf and twig. Pumpkins. Football. Bonfires. The first frost. How the horses get gruff and wintered and feel like comfort.
As I am prone to quote trusty Edna as often as possible, I present my favorite autumnal (not 'autumnly', or 'autumn-ish', JULIE) poem:

O world, I cannot hold thee close enough!
Thy winds, thy wide grey skies!
Thy mists, that roll and rise!
Thy woods, this autumn day, that ache and sag
And all but cry with colour! That gaunt crag
To crush! To lift the lean of that black bluff!
World, world I cannot hold thee close enough!
Long have I known a glory in it all,
But never knew I this;
Here such a passion is
As stretcheth me apart--Lord, I do fear
Thou'st made the world too beautiful this year;
My soul is all but out of me, let fall
No burning leaf; prithee, let no bird call.

-Edna St.V.Millay 1917

iPod playing an inordinate amount of Elliott Smith tonight.
Earlier it was Ella Fitzgerald--stuck on the E's apparently.
(Liz: I totally stole the idea from you.)

Pretty in Pink

Ok, I have a confession:
I haven't had much to say lately. This fact is probably evident in that yesterday I posted a video montage about the Pink and Green Power Rangers to the tune of Bjork's "Oh So Quiet."
Clearly, not a whole lot going on up in cha.
Or something.
But with the new lappy I made a commitment to write more (or at least look like I'm writing more), ergo another post. Buck up, kiddies. I write for meself.
This week they started the ground-breaking for the new assigned staff housing, which is going to be located RIGHT outside my bedroom window. Like if my window could open, I could punch the backhoe.
With this construction comes a lack of flowing water during the day, disconnection of regular phone service, no more parking spots, loud equipment, loud construction men, etc.
But it's been a hoot to watch.
Groundbreaking was on Monday; we had spray-painted gold shovels to pose with. It was a cold, grey, windy day, but we had our shovels, so pose we did. I'm sure we look really happy in the photos. With all the construction, the conversations over the camp radio system have been lively, like, "Umm...Pete? I think we hit the sewer line." etc. At one point I looked out the window and saw the guys driving the big shovel (technical term: an "excavator") around the horse pasture, in what I can only assume was an exorcise in shits and giggles. It's like boys and Tonka trucks, only these are a little bigger. And then one of the women in the office was in charge of buying the hard helmets for the project, and in the mail on Tuesday, four pretty pink hard hats were delivered. The white YL stickers were added to the front of them later. The women in the office were just wearing them around, giggling. I don't think the construction guys will go for the pink hard hats, but we'll see. They do have a turquoise mini-shovel, so maybe they'll be open.
This post is officially dedicated to Caroline McGlade, who is now a loyal reader. She's totally seen the pretty pink helmets, if you have any questions you should just ask her.

Pink + Green 4 Eva

Ok anyone who can combine The original Mighty Morphin Power Rangers and Bjork (or Ani DiFranco) into a video montage deserves credit.
Or heavy medication.