30 years of the Little Tikes Cozy Coupe

My very first car was the Little Tikes Cozy Coupe.  My mother tells the story about how they had no intention of buying anything that large until one day they were in the toy store and I came zooming around the corner in it.  Of course, I have no way of knowing how accurate that story may or may not be but I like the sound of it.  This was one of my favorite toys growing up.  The sound of the door as it would swing closed and the way the static in the plastic would cause my hair to stand up.  My tiny little milk jug and pretend groceries fit so nicely in the trunk space.  I'm not too crazy about it's newest incarnation though.

Like most car companies, Little Tikes has presented a newer, sleeker model for the next generation.  I'm not sure of the actual measurements but it seems a little bit smaller to me (like the Cadbury Creme Eggs on the shelves this Easter).  The wheels seem sturdier and should allow one's sister to ride on top without fear of bending the wire axle.  And I would bet money that the windshield bars won't pop out unexpectedly during playtime.  Little Tikes has rounded out the features to create a visually pleasing toy and I applaud these efforts.  But is it really necessary to give the Cozy Coupe eyes as if it's a character in Disney's Cars?

Remembering my first car makes me realize why I picked my grown-up car.  Maybe I should consider a custom paint job to make the roof yellow?

Or maybe this should be my next car?

Echoes from the Past

This past week, through the wonders of Facebook, I learned that my former step-sister has been diagnosed with Cancer.  Even though she is now graduated from college and living her grown-up life in Texas, I still think of her as being 12 - 14 years old.  This was the last time I remember seeing her before our parents separated and I just can't believe time hasn't stood still.

We reconnected on Facebook a couple of years ago and I was stunned by her photos.  She's grown into a fairly independent and stunning young woman.  We talked about getting together the next time she was in Maryland visiting her family and even though I agreed I never really made myself available.   I think I couldn't get my head around the possibility that I might have to see her father if we attempted to meet up.  And as I've said on here before, I have no desire to ever see that person again if I can help it.

Now, I just feel like such an asshole.  This girl has had the shit end of the stick for most of her life and I couldn't deal with my issues enough to get coffee with her.  Of the three children, she is the one who can claim a fairly normal life.  Her brothers were always favored by her father, in my opinion, and she suffered a lot of the same treatment visited upon me and my sister.  Her home life in Texas, as I recall, wasn't much easier as her mother was almost equally as unstable as her father.  Her youngest brother had a lot of emotional problems and was thrown out of school for a bomb threat.  Like me, I think she often wished her family was more normal than they were.  Yet, she went to college and graduated.

I am just upset with the universe that this person can have both my father's ex as a legitimate parent and be diagnosed with Cancer at such a young age.  There is something very unfair about it to me.  And I know that life isn't fair and people don't always get what they deserve.

A Decade

Ten years ago, I received a phone call from my then Hallmark manager.  She needed me to come in and cover a shift because the assistant manager's daughter was being taken to the hospital.  It was a Wednesday night and I was out with my family so I didn't get the message until the store had already closed.  I called the next day to see if they still needed me and I learned that the assistant manager's daughter had passed away.

I remember going to the girl's funeral to try and support my assistant manager and I just didn't know what to do.  The daughter had just turned 18 the day before my birthday and she was going to graduate from high school the following month.  Her high school classmates were in tears and her little sister was so withdrawn it broke my heart.  They buried her in her prom dress and I couldn't help but think of my own sister who was 4 months younger.

My sister had been accepted to Oxford College of Emory University, a college that had been suggested by my assistant manager, and every time I would talk about my sister's college experience I felt guilty.  To this day, I hate to talk about anything my sister is doing around my assistant manager because I can't help but wonder what her daughter would be doing now if she had lived.  I don't know that my assistant manager makes the same connection, but I would assume she does.

The little sister is getting married in less than two weeks.  I'm glad that the family will be able to celebrate something joyous for a change.  She's only 23, but I think she has a better understanding of life than any of her peers.  The father has suffered from throat cancer and had an experimental surgery about twenty years ago.  More recently, the experimental surgery has caused him some problems as he's aged and they weren't sure he would live.  Less than two years ago, the little sister almost broke her back.  She was swimming with cousins and made a dive into the water.  The angle she hit the surface caused a chain reaction in her spine and the Doctor's weren't 100% sure she would be able to walk again.  But she pushed through it all and was determined to recover, now she'll walk down the aisle with her father.

I don't know how that family is able to stay as strong as they are.  Collectively, it's the only way to get through all that's happened to them.  But I am more concerned about them on an individual level.  As an outsider, I wonder why so much sadness has been inflicted on them and I can't help but feel they've wondered the same thing.

30 days to live....

The theme of the Easter sermon I heard on Sunday was "30 days to live" and the pastor asked everyone what they would do if they found out they only had that long left in their lives.  He was trying to make a point about how we live our lives on a daily basis and what we should be focused on instead.  Basically, stop worrying about keeping up with the Joneses and start thinking about the legacy you're leaving here on Earth.  Pastor Skip, I'll call him, gave a list of things that he would do if he only had 30 days to live and, though they were admirable, they were not the first things that popped into my mind.

If I were told, with absolute certainty, that I was going to die in 30 days and there wasn't anything I could do about it, I would probably spend the first day completely shell shocked.  The next day I'd probably cry, the third I'd fall apart completely, and by the fourth I would make a list of all the things I wanted to do before my final day.

1. I'd fly my mother up to Maryland.
2. I'd fly my sister up to Maryland.
3. Take the trip to Japan with my sister.
4. See Paris one more time and actually go to the Louvre.
5. Give my 15 year old cousin a driving lesson.
6. Buy the most expensive bottle of Scotch I can find and drink it with my family and friends.
7. Get in a bar fight, knock someone over the head with a bottle, and throw a stool through a window.
8. Go home with a stranger.
9. Get a tattoo.
10. Ride a horse.
11. Swim in the Pacific Ocean.
12. Have a photo session with my photographer friend
13. Challenge my dad to see who can eat the most Goll's Bakery Donuts and Apple Turnovers before getting sick.
14. Break all of my dishes.
15. Throw a huge party and invite everyone.  And the biggest gift had better have a card attached that says, "Thank you, for being a friend." 

So most of these things are not what Pastor Skip had in mind and I did clean up the list a little bit for this entry.  I can't even say my list is that outrageous.  There isn't anything like Sky-Diving or Bull Fighting on here.  Mostly, I would do all the things I was afraid of doing because of the long term consequences.  I would go after the life experiences I wanted but hadn't been able to fit in.  I wouldn't go to work, not even to make it easier for everyone else, and I wouldn't do anything I didn't want to just to make someone else happy.

Which is probably Pastor Skip's entire point.  It's important to take a look at one's life and really question why we do the things we do.  What is important?  How do we waste our time and how could we use that time more effectively?    We are not guaranteed tomorrow, at any age, and we shouldn't take the days we have for granted.

Restore Church::Experiencing Life

Went with my aunt and cousin to the Easter service at their church this weekend.  It's a newer church in my hometown and apparently has all the older, established churches concerned.  After my visit, I can see why.  I was directed to park in a vacant lot across the street from what we call Reverend Pittam's church.  (I'm not really sure why we call it that other than, obviously, there is/was a Reverend Pittam and this was his church.) As I got out of my car, the music coming from the church caught my attention.  It sounded like a party or a local rock band show was inside.  There were several people wearing red t-shirts that said "Restore Church Dream Team" on them.  They were all greeting people and handing out "care packages" to new comers.  I declined to interact with these people as I was looking for my aunt, but my understanding is that the bags they were handing out contained some basic info about the church, a bible, and a few other religious themed goodies.

Once inside, the lighting was darker as if attending a performance or, again, local rock show.  There was a stage up front with fancy show lighting and a full band.  People were crowded near the back by the coffee bar and snack table.  They were all "fellowshipping" with one another and I thought it was interesting that the church set this up before the service and not after like the Baptist church used to do.  The snack table had a beautiful spread of donuts, bagels, yogurt, fruit, and cupcakes decorated with Peeps.  The healthier options were prominently displayed and I was surprised when, during the sermon, people got up to help themselves to more snacks.  The whole place exuded a sense of welcome and had a laid back atmosphere.  Many people were there in jeans and t-shirts and even those in their Sunday best didn't seem to mind.

Even though this was their third service for the day, there was very little about it that felt practiced or rehearsed.  Obviously, the music had that rehearsed feeling but my concern is always with the sermon.  I've been to big "McChurches" where the pastor tells the same jokes and makes the same points anywhere from 4-10 times in a day.  By the tenth performance, it doesn't have that genuine feel to it anymore and I tend to zone out.  But this pastor was clearly passionate about what he was doing.  His sermon didn't feel like he was playing for an audience, even though I know there had to be some recycled jokes.  He was energetic and enthusiastic which is important for any presentation.

The church also has networking down to a science.  They made use of social media and modern technology to engage with their congregation even outside of the typical Sunday service.  I heard a couple of stories about how the leadership team made a point to contact someone when they noticed the person had posted on Facebook about a sad or difficult time they were going through.  I also noticed one or two key people from the older, established churches helping out during the service.  They seem to recognize talent whether it's with children, technology, music, speaking, etc.  It makes me wish they'd been around when my mother was in town.  They could have used her talents to their utmost effectiveness and she would have benefited from the joy of spreading her love of God.

It was interesting to visit, though I felt more like an observer than a participant.  This has been my reaction to most church services of late.  I pick apart the service like a performance or presentation and don't feel as moved as I did when I was younger.  I don't know if this is cynicism or just that I've grown up and can recognize intentional manipulation.  (To be fair, I do the same with certain movie plot lines.)  Perhaps this is a sign that business school really is suited for me, but I kept thinking about the whole experience as if the church were trying to sell me a product.  Which, of course, they are.  It's just weird for me to think about it in those terms.