#184 - JEB

#184 is one of my oldest friends.  We were never best friends, but we were always good friends.  We have known each other all of our lives and whenever we get together, our conversations always make me smile...and usually laugh.  She has always been a clown.  She takes after her dad who you may remember from here.  As kids, we were together a whole lot.  Our parents are close friends and as the kids of close friends are...we were close too.  Here are some of my memories of my times with #184.

Lots of sleepovers.  Usually with late night movies (usually scary to my horror!), popcorn, and games that we did not play at the family home like flash-light tag...at night...outside...in the cane fields behind her house without parents! 

Trips to her family's camp in Grand Isle.  Lots of fun "pullin the Seine" and catching some crabs with her sister "the crab lady".

#184 was a grade behind me and went to a different elementary school, but I met a lot of fun friends through her once we were all at VC together.  She was on my softball team and was the statistician (I think) for the volleyball team.  I'm not sure of her roll, I just remember lots of fun bus rides with #184 cracking us up the entire way there and back.

When I was around 12, #184 and me attended our very first two week sleep-over camp in Alexandria.  Camp Windy Wood!  I remember driving for what seemed like hours to get there.  I really don't think our parents stopped to let us stretch our legs because the only thing I remember is getting a drive through hamburger from McDonalds.  At the time I was a really, really picky eater and I only wanted mayo on my burger.  I remember her dad ordered it and it was delivered to me in the backseat with mustard and onions!  Yuck!!!!  The parents dropped us off a camp and hit the road for their long drive home.  (Remember - this was prior to a 70 mph speed limit and cell phones).  About an hour after they left...#184 and I were racing back from the mess hall to our cabin when I tripped on the shuffleboard/tennis court and landed on my arm.  I had to make an emergency trip to the Alex ER, get a cast on my broken humerus, and then bunk-in with the camp nurse for the night.  My parents were contacted after all the excitement was over since they were on the road.  I remember talking to my mom and her saying, "Oh baby...do you want dad and I to come back and get you?"  I also remember hearing my dad in the background saying, "Mary, are you crazy?  Do you know how far that it and how much traffic we will be in???"  (Sorry Dad, but your neurosis about traffic has a long history!)  But...I told them I was fine (once I was able to get back to my own cabin) and I did not miss a beat.  By the time I got back with my cabin, #184 had already made all the friends and they all welcomed me with open arms.  It turned out to be a wonderful two weeks of learning how to ride a horse, paddle a canoe, and shoot a bow and arrow...all with one hand.  We went back again the following year with a lot more friends, some of whom are pictured below.

#184 was also a tennis partner/opponent back in the day.  Check out this funny picture I recently received.  Please note - that was my favorite sweatshirt!!! (note the feathered sides :)

Can anyone pick out #184 and name the others????

In high school, she continued to make me and many others laugh by being the school mascot.  She even went on a few dates with my beloved before I stole his heart. 

Since I included the one above, it was only right that I included the next picture from the next year with me and my brace face.  I know you cannot tell from this angle, but I am totally sporting a banana clip!

She followed me to college in Lafayette for a semester or so and then we kinda went in different directions.  She explored various career choices.  She worked as an OT assistant for a long time and travelled around the country working prn.  She went back to school to work on a Masters' degree in counselling and to be honest, I'm not sure how that turned out.  She has not lived here for over twenty years, but will turn up occasionally for a holiday visit.  She is always welcome and will always be a good friend.

One of many funny stories - one time, when #184 was still on her job-quest, she showed up out of the blue one morning at my office with a box of donuts.  She comes in with a sales pitch to try to sell me Internet.  I don't really know exactly what she was selling and I'm not sure she really knew either.  She just kept making me laugh and told me that she thought that people would buy anything from people who showed up with donuts.  I don't think that job lasted all that long. 

The fact that I don't have any more recent pictures must mean it has been a long time since I have seen her. 

I miss you #184 - come visit us!!!!!!!

#183 - MEL

Once upon a time, long, long ago...this blog writer had a fairy tale wedding.  She had the prince, she had the beautiful dress, and she had a wonderful reception hosted at the home of a wonderful friend of her parents.  This wonderful friend made it seem like it was of no consequence to turn her house upside down and inside out...all to make the princess (that's me) happy.

The front foyer of her home.

Fast forward 17 years.  The prince and the princess now have a home of their own that they occasionally use to host weddings.  The princess realizes all of the hard work and planning that goes into hosting such an event.  She understands that just because the event will be held in one room, does not mean that the guests will not want to look in all the rooms. (which she gladly shows each time because they are clean :)  She also understands that when the event is hosted with love...it is not an inconvenience, even if it does take some extra work to be sure all the dirty little boy socks are clean, folded, and properly stowed.

Jeff and I had the pleasure of returning the favor and hosting the wedding of this wonderful friend and she is #183 on my blog. 

She was my parent's next door neighbor growing up and I remember lots of late nights watching the grown ups play bridge.  She then moved not to far away into the future wedding house, and I remember many fun summer days of picking satsumas and swimming in the pool that was in their backyard.  I remember thinking that one day, I would have a pool of my own with a cool cabana, just like theirs.  I remember BBQ in the screened in porch by the pool, and then waiting the required 30 minutes before we could swim and dive again.  Later, she moved back into the house next door to my parents, and now just down the street.  Always a friend to me, and always extending her kindness my way.  She is now happily retired and happily remarried and I am so happy for her.  She looks wonderful and I am so glad that she has been part of my journey.  I want to take this opportunity to thank her for all the good memories that I have that she was a part of.  THANKS!!!!!

#182 - AH

This post is short and sweet, but this guy makes the blog because even though he is a little strange...he rocks his job!  Am I the only one who finds that in today's world there are just too many people out there who do not do what they tell you they are going to do?  I mean you go to someone for help...they tell you what they can do...you agree on a price...you leave them trusting that they will keep up their share of the bargin...but...when you go back to get the results...WHAM!  It's not what they said.  So aggravating!

But...#182 does not fall under this category.  He is a man who frames pictures for a living.  He is passionate about it.  He is not interested in the photograph of my precious kids or the beautiful painting that I need framed.  He is all about the color matting and frame size.  He is not focused on how my boys blue eyes brighten up the room.  He is all about glare or non-glare glass.  I am poking fun, but in the same breath, I appreciate the dedication and quality work that he does for me when I make the drive to Raceland with my pictures.  They are ready when he says they will be ready.  They always turn out great. And last but not least...his prices rock the house!  (I just try to not be offended by the sign on the door that says no little children allowed unless 100% supervised!  Like I said...a little weird :)

#181 - RF

I think I have mentioned a few times that I LOVE TENNIS!  Well, I do.  I know not everyone understands my love of this sport.  It is slow...yes.  It involves sitting in the hot sun to watch it...yes.  You have to turn your head back and forth and back and forth and back and forth...yes.  I mean really...what's not to like?

Anyway, one of my favorite players is #181.  When he first came on the men's tour, all of the announcers would rant and rave about him.  Even if he lost the match, they would always say...this kid has got the goods and he is going somewhere.  Fast forward ten years or so and #181 is now arguable called the GOAT or Greatest of All Time in the tennis circles.  Here are some of his accomplishments.

Federer has won 16 Grand Slam titles, breaking the previous all-time male record of 14 by Pete Sampras. Federer won 16 majors in a span of 27 majors (2003 Wimbledon - 2010 Australian Open), while Sampras won 14 in 49 majors (1990 US Open - 2002 US Open).

Federer won five consecutive men's titles at Wimbledon from 2003–07, matching a feat achieved only by Björn Borg in the open era.

Federer holds the open era record for most consecutive US Open titles at five (2004–08).

Federer is the only male player in tennis history to win at least five consecutive titles at two different Grand Slam tournaments (2003–07 Wimbledon, 2004–08 US Open).

Federer is the only male player in tennis history to win three Grand Slam tournaments in a calendar year three different times in his career (2004, 2006, 2007).

From 2003-08, Federer won an all-time record 65 consecutive matches on grass courts before losing to Rafael Nadal in the 2008 Wimbledon final.

From 2005-06, Federer won a record 56 consecutive matches on hard courts before losing to Nadal in the 2006 Dubai final.

I'll stop here because my non-tennis readers are sleeping, and my fellow tennis fans are interested enough to see the entire list of his career accomplishments here.

But...like most of my favorite pro athletes, I don't just love him for what he does on the tennis court.  If you ever watch an interview with #181 he is well spoken, humble, articulate, and you can just tell - a really nice guy.  Last year he became a father to twins.  Last week, he was being interviewed about some on court hostility between Andre Agassi and Pete Sampras at a charity event and in true RF style refused to take sides, but instead gave this quote:

“I thought maybe we have to give both guys like a timeout or something,” Federer added with a smile. “We didn’t have to go that far.

Definitely a class act that I will always enjoy watching play tennis. 

(If anyone wants to read morea bout the fun Agassi/Sampras banter...click here.)

#180 - HB

Now if you are a faithful blog reader, you have heard some heartwarming stories about patients of mine who have made a lasting impression.  But let me tell ya...the ones who really make a lasting impression are not always heartwarming.  Sometimes it is very hard to keep a straight face.  Case in point is #180.

Now to really do this patient justice please switch to the flattest dialect you can to continue on...

One day I had an old Cajun lady come into my office with her 12 year old granddaughter.  I look at the prescription from the doctor and it just says "Physical Therapy for the back"  Not really a clue as to what exactly is wrong with the child. So I start with asking the simplest question, "Does your back hurt?" 
"No," the child replies.  "OK,"  I continue, "Are you having some problems with your back?"
"No," the child replies.  At this point I am a little unsure, but I continue, "So, why are you here to see me?"  I ask.  "Tell eh," the grandma replies.  At this point, the girl just shrugs.  I am totally confused at this point so I just wait.  Then the grandma comes out with, "Well, sha,  ya see...this is ma gran daughter.  Her mamma is a hump back, her sista is a hump back, she got two cousins that is hump backs...and I don't want her to catch the hump back.  Can you fix her?"

I mean really?  How do you respond to that?  I am looking at a young girl with no physical deformities that I can see.  I'm not really sure what a hump back is.  I mean does she mean this?

Does she mean this?

I was really at a loss. 

I really don't know how to fix

and I don't think you can catch it.

Anyway...a day in the life of a small town PT.  I stepped out of the room, laughed my @#! off, and then stepped back in to show them some stretching techniques that the girl could do at home for her posture.

Good save?  Maybe.  All I know is that I will never forget she or her grandma.  Hope I helped!

#179 - BAH

My very first niece was born on my 30th birthday.  So when she was 1, I was 31...when she was 5, I was 35...so now that I am approaching the big 4-0...she is almost 10!  She is getting so grown up I can hardly stand it.  She dresses like a teenager, she is very silly like a teenager, and occasionally she is very sassy like a teenager.  But I remember not too long ago, she looked just like this

She definitely is a mix of both of her parents.  Her legs are thin and long and her hair is blond like her mama.  If you look at pictures of my sister in law at age 10, you would think you were looking at BAH.  But...she definitely has her daddy's personality. 

If she says or does something that makes you laugh once...she will keep saying it or doing it and saying it and doing it...and she keeps us laughing...just like her daddy!

Just so everyone knows...just because she is a girl does NOT mean that she likes the color pink.  In fact...she HATES it!  For her last birthday, Aunt Mo (who does not get to shop for little girls too often) made a special trip to the big city to shop at JUSTICE.  I looked and I looked, I matched and I cross-matched, I had a blast picking out the "coolest" pre-teen girl outfit that I could come up with.  Except, I did not know then about the PINK thing.  Strike one for Aunt Mo.  Good thing for gift receipts!

She and my middle one are bff's.  When we are all together and it gets too quiet, we have to go on a lookout for those two.  I'm not going to say that they are always up to no good but...  They got together and choreographed a movie and dance extraveganza to "Boom Boom Pow" on vacation that we will never forget.  She also does a great impression of Jessica Simpson!

Her shining accomplishment right now is being a "flyer" on her competitive cheer team.  I was never a cheerleader (too spastic) and obviously I won't get to experience this with my boys either.  I still can't quiet figure out who she is cheering for, but she is awesome!  Her team wins first place in every competition and they are scheduled to compete in Nationals in Disney in a few weeks.  Good luck girls!!!!!

Speaking of cheerleading...#179 has no ligaments in her entire body.  Her joints all hyperextend excessively.  She loves to torment me by showing me how far back she can bend her elbows or knees, or wrists.  But...this makes her a great gymnast and she makes all the flips and tricks look easy.

I love all of my nieces equally.  They all are unique and bring the right touch of fun and happiness to all of our family gatherings.  I am glad that I get to share my birthday with #179. 

Short story to close:  She was born early in the morning.  I was there for the birth, but then went home and worked that day.  I definitely wanted to make a trip to the hospital to see her before I was taken to dinner by my husband and friends to celebrate my 30th.  We had dinner reservations for 7:00, but I was trying, trying, trying to hurry up Jeff so we could make a run by the hospital before.  He was totally dragging his feet.  Took forever to shower and shave...couldn't find anything already ironed to wear...Camped out in the bathroom complaing of a stomach ache.  By the time we got in the car to go and drop Blake off at my parents, it was about 6:50 and I was furious that we did not have time to go by the hospital before dinner.  Imagine my surprise when I rang the doorbell at my mom's, ready to drop Blake and run, and all of my family and friends brust out with "Surprise!!!  Happy Birthday!!!!!"  Jeff successfully planned and pulled off the entire party and I did not have a clue!  Not easy to do!  What a great birthday both for my husband to plan for me, and my niece to make her appearance right on time!

I love you BAH!!!!!

#178 - TG

Have you ever met someone who actually won the lottery?  Me neither.
But...I have met someone whose parents won the lottery.  #178.  I do not know the exact amount that they won, but it was the LA lotto (I think).  I do remember that one of the things that they did with the money was travel back to their roots and take the entire family (kids, spouses, and grandkids) for a week or so vacation to Italy.  How fun!  When I first met #178,  he was a vendor for pediatric wheelchairs and would come into my office to measure and custom fit my pediatric patients for their chairs.  He was also in and out of the clinic for the life of the chair to make adjustments as the kids grew, and to repair broken pieces and parts.  I will go on record and say that he was very good at what he did.  But...as many of my teacher friends know...just because you are really good at something does not mean that you will get paid a lot of money to do it.  Eventually, he left the exciting world of wheelchairs to work in the oil field.  I mean really...does wining and dining oilfield customers really compare to trying to get reimbursement for medical equipment from Medicaid???  He has been out of the field for several years now, but we remain friends.  He is as much of a tennis freak as I am and we have teamed up on a few local leagues over the years.  When we first started playing tennis, I was married and had three kids...he was married without kids.  He just didn't understand why I didn't play more.  I would show up for a match and say something like, "I haven't touched my raquet in three months."  He just didn't get it.  Let me also go on record saying that now that he and his wife have two beautiful little girls, I haven't seen too much of him on the courts either.  Just like so many of my post-ees, time passes, lives change, and priorities shift.  I still see #178 occasionally (Jeff and I ran into he and his wife at a Counting Crows concert at the Beau) and talk to him every now and then.  But...the one thing that #178 has done for me that has really made my life easier in the last 2 years is answer a S.O.S email that I sent out that read something like this...

Does anyone know anyone who it sitting around in the afternoons from 2:00 - 5:00 and is saying, "I wish I could make some extra money by picking some kids up from school and driving them around to their afterschool activities."  If so, please have them call me!!!!!

#178 called me and said, I think my brother in law may be interested...And into our lives entered Mr. Ron.  But I'll save that post for another day.  Thanks #178!

#177 - SK

#177 wears many hats.  To me, she is a friend who has also been a babysitter and a workout motivator.  Long, long ago before she had her beautiful baby boy, she was the best babysitter ever.  She was old enough to drive, she was old enough for over-night babysitting, and last but not least...my boys loved her!  And she loved them!  Time passes as time does, and she still loves my boys, but she has a beautiful baby boy of her own to love.  And I mean beautiful! 

To call her a secretary is an injustice, because that is just a small part of what she does for my husband.  To call her his administrative assistant is probably closer, but it still doesn't hit the nail on the head.  I think the closest is a "makes everything run smoother" person.  Know what I mean?  From making hotel and plane reservations, to collecting credit card receipts, to dealing with employees and screening calls, to vendor data books to collections...her job morphs and changes from day to day and from project to project.  And she just rolls with the punches.  I know that she is appreciated there, and I want her to know that I appreciate all the she does and has done to make Jeff's work life easier.  And when I do the calculations: 
Jeff's work life easier = MHT's home life easier!

Now to a funny story...she and I are cut from the same work-out mold.  We love to try new stuff and we are always on some type of work-out program.  Anyway, a few years ago, I talked her into training and running in a half marathon with me and a co-worker of mine.  We did not have time to train together, but she trained and I trained separately.  Occasionally we compared notes of how far we were running...what our times were...etc.  I felt like we were about equally in shape to tackle our first 13.1.  Anyway, we made the trip to Lafayette on a cold, rainy Friday night.  The race was set to start at 6:00 am the next morning and the drive up had me seriously wondering what I had been thinking to actually pay someone to "let" me wake up at the crack of dawn, in the cold, ice rain, and run 13.1 miles.  I mean really...is the T-shirt worth it???  Anyway, we met for dinner the night before and we talked "strategy" for the race.  All 3 runners decided that our goal was just to finish without having to walk.  We had also decided to stay together and just finish.  We were not interested in winning or in finishing in any specific time, but just to run the whole thing.  The next morning (which dawned with clear skies, thank goodness) we all met at the starting point and again, reviewed our strategy of finishing without walking.  We stretched out...got in line at the starting point...and P-O-W!!!  Game on!  My co-worker and I started off at an easy pace...keeping time with each other. We looked to the side to check in with #177, and all we saw was her dust!  I once saw a funny quote on a running shirt that had a slogan on the back that said,

If you can read this, I just went Kenyan on your @#!

That was totally her.  She took off like a lightening bolt and I never saw her again.  She finished the race much faster than me and my partner (I think about 20 minutes faster) and was waiting at the end with beer and jambalaya when we finished.  I won't even tell anyone that she had shin splints so bad that she couldn't walk for about a week later.  I truly cannot say this about too many people...but I think she is more competitive than I am.  Who doesn't love a gal like that?

So thank you #177 for all you do and have done for me and my family.  Your organized ways and your competitive drive make us soul-sisters.  We love you!

#176 - Uncle CT

Once again, this is not my real uncle, but one of Jeff's dear uncles who took me under the wing of the family...no questions asked.  Now that I stop to think about it...he is one of Jeff's only two uncles but he loved Jeff and therefore me just like he loved his own kids and grandkids.

I'm not sure what he did as a younger man, but when I met him, he was sole owner and proprietor of the LA Bar.  Now, for those of you who are thinking LA means

you will have to readjust your mind set.  In this case, LA refers to a itty bitty small town U.S.A. with one main street with a median.  Back in the day, the main thing for high schoolers to do in LA, was to drive in a loop down one side of Main St. and up the other side...making the loop around the huge tree planted at the end.  Along this Main St. median was the LA Bar, and this was where Uncle CT spent his days.  His day started early with coffee for all the locals.  Mid-day was a meeting spot and then things picked up again in the late afternoon as soon as everyone knocked off of work.  Think Cheers.The LA Bar was definitely the place where everyone knew your name! (and #176's)

Uncle CT retired when he just couldn't go anymore.  He closed the bar and switched his morning coffee from his bar to the local Time Saver.  He said that he needed to slow down, but whenever we saw him, he looked and acted just the same as always.  He always had a twinkle in his eye and loved to spend time with his family.  He made many trips down to see us for graduations, birthdays, Mardi Gras, and hurricaine evacuations.  Whenever he and Jeff were together a discussion about how to cook a gumbo would always surface. 

Uncle CT passed away about a year and a half ago.  I miss him.  I know Jeff misses him as well as his wife, his brother and sister, his kids, his grandkids, and his great grandkids.  His funeral services were packed with all of the people whose lives he had touched.  He was a quiet man, but such a large personality, that his absence leaves quite a mark.  This picture is how I will always remember Uncle CT when I think of him. 

#175 - WS

This person had more contact with my husband than me, but he makes my post vicariously.  At the time Jeff met him, he was a rookie football player for the Saints.  He had been a college stand out, but was just getting started on his pro career. 

The story of how Jeff met him is kinda funny.  It sounds kinda shady, but here it is.  A friend of Jeff's was buying some insurance (I think) from a guy who was the cousin of #175's girlfriend.  (See what I mean?)  This cousin told the friend that he could "hook him up" with a suite to the Sugar Bowl where LSU would be playing in a few weeks.  Anyway...long story short.  Friend called Jeff, who called the cousin, who called #175, who said "Give him my cell phone #", who took Jeff's call, who let Jeff buy him dinner at PF Changs, who tried to get Jeff to pay him a lot of money for use of his suite (which I guess was part of his contract), who negotiated deal...Then we (here's where I make a cameo in this post) went to the game with lots of our friends and had a great time, and then #175 came up to meet us in the suite (with girlfriend and her cousin), and we found out that...

He was so young!!!!!!  I mean, he was only like 24 years old!!!!!!!  Here we are, a little older (haha) and had been working professionals (mostly successful) for over 15 years (I guess at that time), and here he was.  He was very nice and very quiet and very humble.  He spent time taking pictures and talking to everyone, but he really was just a 24 year old who wanted some food and drink, and to watch a football game.  He really didn't even look that big in his street clothes.  Anyway, he made an impression on me because when you watch these guys on TV, they seem larger than life (to me at least), then when you meet them in person...they are regular guys who have tremendous God given talent and the brains enough not to screw it up.  I hope that this year, now that he has a Super Bowl ring and a few Pro Bowl season under his belt, that he is still as humble and gracious as he was as a rookie.  Hmmmmm...who knows if I am right?  I know that Jeff texted him before the Super Bowl game...something short and to the point like, "Good luck, we are rooting for you guys!"  Maybe he is still humble because he texted him right back with thanks for the good wishes.

#174 - MM

One of the things that I hate to do the most is interview people for jobs.  I mean really...how can you really know someone by a 30 minute interview.  They are on their best behavior (most of them), and they are trying really hard to say all the right things.  What I really want is to see them in action and under pressure because that's when you can really see their potential.  Anyway, I'm sure there are people that are much better at interviewing than me, but I have learned a few tricks along the way.

1.  Check out references from past jobs.  Usually these are the best sources. 
2.  Look at the quality of the resume.  If they cannot spell (or use spell check) chances are they can't write a letter or manage my software programs.
3.  Assess their appearance.  If they don't bother to take pride in their appearance, they probably don't take pride in their work. (except for you Vicki :)

Anyway, #174 was an employee of mine for many years.  She got the job primarily for one reason...she wrote me a thank-you note after our interview expressing thanks for being allowed an opportunity to interview, and letting me know that she was available if I had any further questions about her qualifications.  She came to the interview well dressed, polite, informative but not pushy, and above all respectful and exuding helpfulness.  I guess that's more than one thing, but of all the interviews that I have done over the years, hers stands out in my mind. 

She no longer works for me, but for years she was an asset to our practice.  She was not perfect and we butted heads from time to time.  Some of the things that I asked her to do were out of her scope, but I have to give her an A for effort.  She always tried her best.  She did have shortcomings, but it's funny how those fade with time.  Her dedication and loyalty to our company kept her a primary player in our office staff.  These things cannot be taught...a person either has them or they don't and #174 had them.  I will always be appreciative of all of the hard work that she did for our company and for all the times that she put our office first.

I'll stop here with a quote that I came across once while googling for interview questions that is just something to think about...It goes

"Any fact facing us is not as important as our attitude toward it,

for that determines our success or failure."


Norman Vincent Peale
 

#173 - Dr. TG

When I first started working as a PT, there was a certain local physician that referred a lot of patients to our clinic.  He was a general practitioner in town and he had seen it all and done it all.  He came from the time where doctors did everything from treat a cold, to deliver babies, to perform surgery.  I guess he was in his sixties when I started practicing which meant that he had already been a doctor for more than thirty years.  Even though I grew up in this town, I did not know him (because of #2).  But I surely got to know him quickly.  He had a habit of calling to check up on his patients when they went back to see him.  They would go into his office and they would tell him how they were doing.  Then he would leave them waiting in the exam room and call us.  My heart use to race and my hands would start to sweat when I would hear the overhead page, "Monique, Dr. TG on line 1 for you."  His standard greeting was, "I have patient XYZ in my office and they are telling me that they still have pain.  Why can you not get them better?"  (Note - I did get a good many of them better, but he never called me on these!)  I would stammer and stutter my reason that the patient was still having symptoms and then he would usually say, "Hmm...well if I send them back there, do you think you can get them better this time?"  Talk about pressure...but he did not know who he was talking to.  I have never been one to back down from a challenge, and the phone call was definitely a challenge.  I made it my goal NOT to have him call me on his patients.  Partially because I was scared of #173, and partially because I cannot resist a challenge.

It wasn't until years later that I realized that #173 was all bark and no bite.  Flash forward 20 years and I am now the therapist and #173 is the patient.  His shoulders are stooped, his knees creak, his spine is bent, and he can't really look up that well...but his mind is still sharp as a tack.  He has forgotten more than a lot of doctors will ever know.  Unlike a lot of doctors, he was a great patient, and fought all of the physical challenges that old age threw at him.  His therapy sessions took twice as long as they should have because more than half of the other patients in the office either knew him or had been delivered by him...and he always took the time to talk.  Gradually, his visits became farther and farther apart, and I heard that his health was failing.  Then nothing...for a long time, I did not know his status, and then someone told me that he had passed away about six months earlier.  How did I not know?  I read the paper almost daily and I thought that there would definitely be a big write up with someone who gave so much to the community.  Then I found out that he did not want an obituary run in the paper.  He did not want a large funeral and he did not want anything done in commemoration of his life.  His family honored his wishes and he was laid to rest very quietly without any fanfare.

One interesting note...Dr. TG's early medical practice was in the office where I use to work.  When we were cleaning it out to move, we found a lot of old textbooks from his medical school days.  We called him to tell him, and he came to get them.  Very interesting to see how medicine was taught in that time. 

I have learned a lot in the 18 years that I have been practicing and some of those lessons came from my association with #173.  By example, he taught me what it is to care about patients.  They are not just a visit charge or a neck or a back.  They are people and deserve our time and quality care.  The people that come to see me deserve to have me help them.  If I cannot, then I need to refer them to someone who can.  #173 was a fine physician and our town was lucky to have him. 

#172 - KR

I went to elementary school with a guy who was different from most of the other guys in my class.  He would sit and draw at recess instead of playing ball.  He wrote in large print with doodles all around his page edges.  This same boy was in my high school class.  In high school, he leaned even more heavily towards the arts which was his gift.  He opened his own business in high school selling painted T-shirts, notecards, and paintings which he created effortlessly.  He was our class president in 11th grade and we were in charge of the Senior Prom.  He had a vision in his head to recreate a plantation home and use an antebellum theme.  We started work months ahead of time.  What I remember most about this dance was:

1.  Creating a permanent scar on my leg from a glue gun I was using to glue border around the windows of the cafeteria.  To this day I know that if you get hot glue on your skin, you DO NOT pull it off right away.  You suck it up and let it burn you until it cools off, then you peel it off.  This saves the top layer of skin.  #172 taught me that.
2.  Local orthopaedic surgeons that are building new homes in town do not consider someone taking 2x4's from their construction site to build a plantation backdrop for a school dance a donation.
3.  They sure do make the Brothers of the Sacred Heart tough.  When the same plantation home collapsed on Brother Anthon from the roof of VCHS quadrangle (where we were securing the second floor), Brother Anthon just popped back up and said, "I've seen worse in the jungles of Uganda."
4.  It was beautiful.

This was the most infamous production of #172, but certainly not the only.  I spent a summer with #172 when we both worked as day-camp counselors and he lent his artistic talent to the campers.  This story takes a sad turn however.  Shortly after high school, he was involved in a serious car accident.  The accident left him with a closed head injury which affected the rest of his life.  He could function on his own, but his judgement was impaired.  He really could not work, and even though he recovered from the most severe of his physical injuries, he still had many deficits.

Our relationship then changed from classmates and friends to therapist - patient.  I treated him for a condition call myositis ossificans where the muscles start to harden to bone in places.  This is very painful and limits movement.  His arms and his legs were affected.  He was in and out of therapy for awhile, and was doing the best he could to get along with the hand life had dealt him.  Then one day, he died in his sleep.  I'm not exactly sure why.  He was not perfect, in fact, a he prided himself on coming off snotty to a lot of people.  His picture was next to the word preppy in the dictionary, and I cannot look at an alligator shirt with the collar flipped up and a pair of topsiders without thinking of #172.  But I also know that he was a good person and a good friend, with lots and lots of talent whose life was cut short.  I miss him and the world has missed out on what he would have become.

# 171 - SJ or SMJ as some of us called her

This must be principal week on my blog because today's post is on my elementary school principal.  She was a nun and her name was Sister Jean.  Occasionally someone may have called her Sister Mean Jean, but definitely not to her face.  Sister Jean was a principal back in the day where it was a good thing for students to be a little bit afraid of people in charge.  She had a paddle that she kept hanging on the wall of her office...need I say more.  If anyone wants to know more about the paddle, I cannot help you.  Jeff cannot help you.  I don't even think my brother can help you, but you might want to check with
# 142 for more on the paddle.

Sister Jean wore a nun's habit every day.  I have no idea if she had hair or just bangs, but I suspect her hair was short.  I was scared of her and tried to stay out of her way as much as possible.  I remember her bringing all the girls in the entire school out into the backyard and lining us up.  Then she would make us kneel on the ground.  If our skirt was not touching the ground (i.e. long enough), she would tell us to put out our hands, palm up, and she would walk down the line and give us a whack with a ruler.  Thank you mom for always keeping me in proper dress code!  No whacks for me!  It totally got the point across however.  Today, she would probably be dragged into the police car by her habit and arrested for cruelty.

Because I tried to stay off of her radar, I really don't have too much to say about Sister Jean.  It just makes me wonder if the world is really better off in 2010 with rules that often seem to perpetuate problems instead of teaching kids the correct way to behave.  I don't think kids need to be beaten, but I know a few that could use a few ruler whacks!

#170 - KP

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Late birthday shout out to #170 !!! 

Happy St. Patrick's Day and Happy Birthday to # 170!!!!!

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When I was a child growing up, my family "hung out" with primarily two other families.  All of our parents were friends linked because all of the men were childhood friends.  The wives all got along, and all of the kids were about the same age and went to the same school.  To this day we have an annual Christmas party with these two families.  The three primary families have grown to now include spouses and too many children to count.  Not everyone can make it every year but everyone tries, and I know that I always look forward to getting together with everyone.

#170 is the mom of one of the families.  When I was growing up, I remember her as always being fun.  She always had a game for us to play or some sort of activity to try.  Two specific occasions come to mind.

For several years, we had a "fair" at her house.  It was beneath her carport.  We would prepare for the fair by putting together "grab bags," notepads of paper, and other assorted prizes.  We would come up with games kind of like carnival games for each "booth."  Then we would invite all of the people in the neighborhood over to come to our fair.  Now that I think about it, she is probably responsible for me thinking I need to be in charge of all of the events at my kids' school.  Thanks a lot #170.  I remember face painting, making thumb-print drawings, and pulling suckers with the bottoms marked on them for a prize.  Looking back, I'm sure it was a lot of work.  It would have been easier to park us in front of the TV, but would I have remembered that???  Probably not.

The other thing I remember most about #170, is that each year, she was the one to be with at Mardi Gras.  My dad (and the other two dads) rode in the parades and my dad always parked a huge truck right by the post office for all of us to stand in.  (This was back in the day when Lafayette Street was safe and the parade passed by the post office.)  The best thing about #170 is that she would take us across town to (the East side) before the parade got rolling.  We would walk around from float to float and write down the names of everyone she knew and what # float they were on.  That way we were ready.  When we would see the float, up the street, #170 would say, "OK guys, everyone listen... for float # 5, yell Johnny!, Mike! and Dexter!!!!!"  We had no idea who they were, but as the float approached, we would scream as told, "Hey Mike!!!!!!!  Throw us something!!!!!"  We did this for every float and believe me, we always got the best stuff with we Mardi Gras'ed with #170.

Again, as an adult, I look back on a childhood that is full of fun, friends, and fond memories.  I thank #170 for her part in these good times!

#169 - DJ

It's no secret to those of you who know me well that I love baseball.  When I was a baby, my dad was playing professional baseball so I was brought up on hot dogs and popcorn.  I played softball in high school and followed the Atlanta Braves on TV.  I was not so obsessed that I could tell you batting averages, but I knew what nights they would be on TBS and who was on injured reserved.  When my brother played high school and American Legion ball, my dad coached, and I kept stats for the team as well as worked the PA system for the home games.  To this day,  I cannot hear this song and not smile.  I don't know when it happened, but somewhere along the line, I morphed from a Minnesota Twins fan, to a Atlanta Braves fan, to a YANKEES FAN!!!!  I think it had a lot to do with two people.  #1 is Joe Torre who was a former Braves coach that became the Yankees coach.  #2 is my blog post subject today...

For those of you who still don't know...it's Derek Jeter!

Don't really know why, but I have always loved this player and have followed his career.  To me, he is a true baseball player from the way he conducts himself on the field, to the example he sets for young kids everywhere.  With so many baseball players today getting exposed for steroid use...Derek Jeter is a breath of fresh air (and I truly hope that I don't have to eat those words one day!)  He is always respectful when talking about players, managers, and often sticky situations.  You just get the feeling after listening to him speak, that he is genuine...the real deal. He's pretty easy on the eyes too.  

 My boys all know that I love Derek Jeter and they love to repeat this story.  Several years ago, I had a patient who was granted a wish through the Make-A-Wish foundation.  His wish was to go and see the NY Yankees play.  His wish was granted and he and his mom were flown to New York.  Before he left, I prepped him by telling him all about how awesome I thought that Derek Jeter was.  I told my patient, "Now, if you see Derek, you be sure to tell him that your physical therapist thinks he is H-O-T!"  It would always make him laugh.  Well, sure enough, he not only got to go to the game, but he got to go into the clubhouse where the entire team came through and shook his hand, signed whatever he wanted signed, and posed for pictures.  When Jeter took his turn, my patient told him, "My PT thinks you are HOT!"  My patient's mom tells me that Jeter just smiled and said, "Tell your PT that I'm sure she's HOT too!"  A so a story is born to be embellished!  I have overheard my boys telling their friends, "Derek Jeter thinks my mom is HOT!" 

Of course, I have never met him, but I really don't need to or even particularly want to.  I will happily follow his career from the comfort of my couch and read about him in Sports Illustrated.  We watched him and the Yankees win the World Series this year with lots of hooping and hollering (mostly from me), and I made sure to make my boys read this article when he was named SI's 2009 Sportsman of the Year.

For those of you who are not "feeling" the love that I feel... check this out!

#168 - KBT

When I was in high school, there were a lot of things that I was...and there were some things that I definitely was not.  #168 I was not.  She was and is a really nice girl (hopefully like me)...very quiet (mostly like me)...very stylish (the polar opposite of me) - always has been.  She is the oldest of three girls in her family and was always very girly.  I'm not trying to say that I was a beast... but girly?  Hmmm, I don't think so.  Stylish?  Definitely not!  In high school, true to the eighties style, she always had her warm up pants pulled up to just the right height on her calf and held in place with the elastic on the bottom.  She always had the bows in her hair tied just right to match the bows that scrunched up the sleeves of her T-shirt. He white socks were always folded in just the right crease.  She was the captain of the dance team and her uniform was always exactly pressed and hung right as was her school uniform.  Now, I don't mean to sound jealous, because I was not.  As a general rule, I am pretty oblivious to fashion and style...both in high school and now.  But...#168 always makes people take notice with her appearance and her sense of style.  She just celebrated her 40th birthday and I have to say she looks as good today as she did back then (minus the elastic sweatpants and add in the knee high boots).

She makes my blog because she represents all you gals out there who have got it going on...and to all of us gals who occasionally look to you for fashion inspiration.

#167 - BE

#167 was the principal at my high school.  My mom taught there and was friendly with him and all of the other Brothers of the Scared Heart that ran the school.  We got to know B.E. (as we called him) pretty well.  He was a thin, quiet man who as I recall was kinda quirky.  I am trying to pick a word to describe him, and I am having trouble.  Quiet...yes.  Kind of funny...maybe.  Hard of hearing...I think so.  Anyway, I was a pretty good kid in high school (read - nerd) and did not have too much business in the principal's office, but I do have one story that comes to mind.

For most of high school, I was a member of the student council.  I did not hold any big office, just a minor role usually but as my personality dictates...I held each office to the best of my ability.  My senior year, my role was representative at large.  What this really means...I have no idea.  I think I was supposed to be a liason between the student body and the administration???  Anyway, we had this suggestion box in the library and my job was to collect the suggestions each month before the meeting...sort them out...and present them to the council for discussion.  Since this was back the the big 80's, one of the suggestions that I remember getting often was, "Can the boys wear argyle socks."  I remember this being a big deal.  The boys uniforms called for long khaki pants and navy or white socks.  You could not really see their socks, but if a teacher asked to inspect them...they better not have different colored triangles on them.  Anyway, one month I decided to go straight to the top with this request.  I mean really...who was it hurting?  You couldn't even see the sock tops.  So I requested a meeting with B.E.  I remember going into his office with my proposal carefully worded and outlined (read - nerd again).  I plead my case and when I left the office, I had approval from the top dog.  He agreed...what did it hurt, you couldn't even see the sock tops.  I was so excited and sure that I would make the day of so many of my male classmates. (Have to stop here and lol about the things that seem so important in H.S.)

I go back to the meeting and when my turn to speak comes up...I deliver the wonderful news.  I remember the moderator asking me if I was sure I had this information right as this had been a hot topic for awhile and has always been denied.  I assured her that B.E. gave a thumbs up for permission.  Since I was such a nerd, she knew I was not making it up, and allowed all the class reps to go back and report to the student body that argyle socks were O.K. 

To this day, I'm not sure what happened next.  Did B.E. not hear exactly what I was asking?  Did one of the teachers who was stoutly opposed to argyle get to B.E. and change his mind?  Or, as I suspect, did B.E. not really know what an argyle sock was?  In any event, the next day, all the reps reported the great news to their homerooms...the teachers all looked at each other with puzzled looks...and before lunchtime a memo was brought to each class saying that the information given about argyle socks was incorrect and the boy's uniform called for navy or white socks only.  What?!?!?  My face red, I waited to be called to the office or to my student council moderator's classroom.  The funny thing was...it never happened.  No one ever mentioned it to me again.  No one asked and no one blamed me for wreaking havoc with the dresscode.  Now don't you think that sounds like a cover-up for B.E...  Think about it!  :)

Thank you B.E. for teaching me to always, always check my facts twice, and not to assume that just because people say yes, they really have a clue as to what they just consented to. 

If it looks like they are confused...it is usually because they are.

#166 - TL

When you are young and healthy you think you are invincible. It only takes a moment in time for your perspective to change. Healthy people take their health for granted. What seems mundane becomes monumental once you have a health problem. Today’s post is about a gentleman who is about the age of my dad. He has been coming to therapy at my office since I began working which was about 18 years ago. He comes once or twice a week faithfully. He comes in…not to get better…but to avoid getting worse. He had a stroke I guess around 19 years ago which left him paralyzed on one side of his body.


This is what he can do:

He can walk – but only for short distances with a cane, a brace, a foot that usually drags, large clunky orthopedic shoes, and about the pace of a 100 year old man

He can eat – but only after his food has been cut up for him in very small bites. This is an improvement that has happened in the last 3 years. Prior to this, all of the food and drink that he put in his mouth went into his lungs instead of his stomach. If he would have eaten like this often, it would have led to lung problems and then sickness and then death. To avoid this, he was fed liquid nutrition through a tube inserted into his stomach.

He can talk – but only those very close to him can understand him. I can understand about 60% of what he says, but he usually has to repeat himself about 3-4x for me to get it. Even the most basic conversation or request requires vast amounts of patience on his part. Sometimes his words are accompanied by involuntary drooling because he doesn’t have control of one side of his lips/tongue/mouth.

He gets up and gets dressed everyday – but needs help from his wife for all aspects of this, from his underwear, pants, shirt, socks, and shoes.

He can use the restroom normally – but again requires the assistance of his wife or one of his children to zip and unzip…lift and lower.


I see patients like him every day. People who have had health situations, but did not die and did not get better. They are left to live the rest of their lives with residual problems. Many give up. Some do not. I hope I never have to be in a situation like this, but if I did…I wonder how I would react. Would I give up? Would I have the patience to repeat myself to be understood? Would I resent my caregivers for all the things that they have to help me with?

Today is a beautiful day and I am healthy. I thank God for my health and the health of my family. I pray that I will always work to maintain my good health by eating right, exercising, and staying healthy. Only God knows what is in store for me, but I will do my part to maintain a healthy lifestyle. I use # 166 as a reminder of what I have to lose by neglecting my health. A reminder of what true love and commitment is. An appreciation for the little things that I sometimes take for granted.

#165 - TM

I took French as a foreign language in high school...that is not to say that I speak French.  Jeff did better than I did, taking Spanish in high school and several semesters in college, but I don't think he would consider himself fluent.  #165 is a girl who moved with her parents and her younger brother from Russia to Louisiana when she was less than ten years old.  Her parents spoke very little to no English.  She was very often the translator.  I don't think she knew any English when she arrived, but started to learn as soon as she started school here and picked it up in no time.  I wonder if my children would have as easy a time if we moved to Russia? 

That little girl of ten is now a married twenty-something woman.  She is a wonderful and beautiful person inside and out.  Her dad worked for my father in law and then later for my husband, and my dad for a while.  Her mom helped us with the kids after school.  Just recently, her mom and dad moved from Louisiana to Texas.  #165 lived in California for awhile, but now lives somewhere in the Northeast (I think) with her new husband as he completes his medical residency.  I am proud of all that she has accomplished and what a wonderful person she has become.  She is a wonderful daughter who takes care of her parents.  She learned this as a small child and continues this as an adult.  She is always extra sweet to my kids and makes it a point to always come to visit when she is in town.

My thoughts keep returning to her moving here when she was about the same age as Zack is now.  Leaving all of her friends as well as all her country's customs and traditions.  She and her brother took to America like a duck takes to water, but I know they had to miss all that they left behind.  The reason that they moved here is because the area that they lived in became unsafe.  It was and still is common for Catholics to be persecuted there.  They escaped for religious freedom and for a better way of life for their kids.  It sounds like an answer on Zachary's social studies test, but it is a very common reason why foreigners seek the freedom America offers. 

I am glad that I know #165 and her family.  I am especially glad that my children were able to meet and love them also.  It is good for them to meet people who have different backgrounds than us.  They are so spoiled that it is good for them to see that not everyone in the world has basic rights.  Not everyone is as privledged as we are.  We should always be proud of our country and be thankful that we live in a place where we are free.

#164 - KB

I owe a great deal to #174.  He was my first and my only professional boss.  Those of you who read my blog regularly may remember that when I graduated from PT school and started to look for a job, #174 really did not need a PT at that exact moment because he had # 48 working for him.  Despite this, he welcomed me with open arms.  I'll never forget when he hired me, he told me, "Now listen up...I know you are getting married in a few months.  Both your momma and my wife will kill me if I don't let you off for all your wedding parties and shopping trips and other frou frou get togethers.  So don't get me in trouble, ok?"

The physical therapy professsion has not been around all that long.  In fact, #174 was the fifth licensed therapist in the State of Louisiana.  He was a pioneer in our field and was inducted into the Louisiana PT Hall of Fame in 2000.   Many of the concepts and protocols that we follow, were developed by the first generation of PT's, of which he was one.  Not a week goes by that I don't hear a "Mr. Ken" story.  His patient's loved him.  He was the definition of a big teddy bear.  Loud and gruff, but with a twinkle in his blue eyes all the time.  Now don't get me wrong, he was not a saint, but I feel like his heart was always in the right place.

His greatest gift to was to instill confidence in his patients (and me too).  He made them believe they could do anything by starting out with the simplest tasks and then praising them when they mastered it.  For example, I remember many occasions when a new patient would come in with a "fresh" leg injury.  Let's just say a recent hip replacement.  They would be sitting in their wheelchair, looking apprehensive at what was to come.  They had heard the rumors of the letters "PT" behind our names stood for "pain and torture" instead of physical therapy.  #174 would wheel them to the parallel bars, bark at them to "Stand Up!"  Too shocked to do anything but...they always stood.  He would then forcefully say, "Now!  Step down on your right leg!  Just like you are stepping in a bucket!"  If they would start to protest, he would cut them off and say, "Hush!  Step!"  He would keep repeating these simple commands until the patient was able to bear weight on their leg without difficulty.  Then he would let them sit back down.  He would lean down and get very close to them and whisper, "See, you can do it!" 

#174 had many losses in his life.  He lost two children at early ages and he I know that this was never far from his mind.  I remember like it was yesterday when a young girl came into our office immediately after being involved in a minor fender bender on the corner outside our office.  She was not hurt, but was crying and carrying on about her brand new car, her insurance, blah, blah, blah.  #174 walked right up to her and said, "Are you hurt?"  She sobbed, "Not really."  "Good," he said, "well then shut up!"  I remember her looking up at him sharply before he continued, "I lost two of my children in accidents so you need to be thankful that you are still here and not worry about some damn car.  It is not important, you are."  Then he walked off.  That was the first and only time I ever heard him say anything like that, but I'll tell you what...the girl shut up.  I know I have never forgotten his words, and I bet she hasn't either.

Not long after he retired, he was diagnosed with Parkingson's disease.  He came around less often and when we did see him he walked slower and slower with that textbook shuffle that Parkingson's patients develop.  He did come to therapy for awhile but I have to say he was a TERRIBLE patient.  I guess that saying, "You can't teach an old dog new tricks" holds true because he usually sat in the gym and told all the other patients what to do instead of doing his exercises himself.  Whenever I would try his old tactics against him and tell him to "Shut up and move!"  He would grin at me and say, "Be quiet Cecelia."  This was a true compliment because he was comparing my nagging to the nagging encouragement of his wife who is a wonderful lady.

I will always remember #174 as a wonderful person and influence on my life.  I will forever be grateful to him for hiring me and treating me as such a valuable asset to his practice from day 1.  I can only hope that when I have moved on from this job, I have made my mark on half as many patients as he made when he worked as a PT.

One final funny story on #174.  He was a life-long tennis player.  All of his kids played tennis (incidently he was the dad of yesterday's post) and he even had a tennis court in his backyard.  He and his wife visited Wimbledon and several other professional tennis matches.  He continued to play until he was in his late sixties/early seventies.  Whoever was lucky enough to be his doubles partner always heard this line.  He would draw a small square around where he stood (about 5'x5') and he would say, "You see this square?  Everything in this square is mine...everything else is yours."  :)  He meant it too!

#163 - LH

When people tell you something based on their experience, but it is something that you have not experienced yet, sometimes it is hard to really understand what they are talking about.  I know that is confusing, but let me explain.

When I moved back to Houma, I started to play tennis again after a long hiatus through high school, college, and PT school.  I joined a local league and started to play weekly.  At the time, I was married with no children yet.  As the years passed, I continued to play leagues, and Jeff and I started our family.  So now I had a little one.  I had a lot of help since he was the first baby on both sides of the family.  All it took was a simple phone call and I always had someone willing to keep him.  I never had to miss a match, rearrange a court time, cancel on a doubles partner, or even worse...forget and not show up at all.  Fast forward 14 years.  OMG!  How things have changed.  Three kids and numerous activities later, my life is a constant whirlwind of practices, games, and carpools.  If I ever lose the calendar on my iphone (which of course is backed up my MobileMe every 30 minutes) I will not be able to function.  But let me get to the reason #163 makes my blog.

She is a gal that I have played tennis on and off with for years.  When I started, her children were about the ages mine were now.  I totally did not get the fact that she knew four weeks in advanced that she would be unavailable to play on a Saturday morning.  I remember thinking, "Does she not have any babysitters?"  Then one weekend, I rode with she and her sister to Shreveport to a state tennis tournament.  I remember asking her about her busy schedule and how she managed it.  She may not remember her response, but it stuck with me.  She said, "This is not my time...this is their time.  They will only be with me for a few more years.  This is their time.  I will always be able to play tennis, but I won't always be able to go watch my daughter play softball."

She was totally right!  Being a good parent means totally throwing all selfishness out of the window.  The funny thing is...when you are a really good parent, you don't even mind or notice.  Don't get me wrong, I still think all parents need a break from their kids from time to time.  A break to do something you enjoy can refresh you and make you more patient upon your return.  But...right now is my kids time and I am doing exactly what I want to do, which is allow them to experience everything they possibly can.  I feel this way even if this week's schedule had me coordinating soccer, baseball, tennis, play practice, guitar lessons, drum lessons, art lessons, and last but certainly not least exams!  Sometimes I feel like I have to be Superwoman to accomplish all that I have to do each week, but all I have to do is look at one child rounding third and looking for me in the stands, another one grinning at me while he finally plays the entire drum rift without messing up, or the third showing off his art work and telling me he made it just for me.  Priceless!

"This is their time!" LH

#162 - Chick in Teen Club

OK, this is my biggest and baddest (shhh - and only) story of the time that a girl wanted to kick my @#!.  It was about 1985 and I was on a summer vacation trip with my friend Lisa.  I can't really remember if I was with her family or if she was with my family, but I think it was me with her family.  Sounds right, because I really don't think my parents would have let me go to downtown Fort Walton at fifteen years old with my friends.  (And now that I have a fourteen year old... I totally understand why!)  Anyway, Lisa and I headed down to the hoppin metropolis of downtown Fort Walton to a "teen club."  This meant no alcohol and no adults.  Just a lot of day-glo, Frankie Goes to Hollywood shirts, and some rockin Wham! tunes.  Anyway, Lisa and I (and Deborah??? - Lisa help me out here...)  are in da club and we are rocking out. 
"Wake me up, before you go - go!  Don't leave me hanging on a lively yo-yo!"
Sorry, I digress...
Anyway, we were dancing and having a good time.  At the time, I guess, one of the ways that we had fun, was to make fun of the other people dancing around us.  Looking back, this is really not such a good idea unless there is alcohol involved, but at the time, I guess we thought that no one was really paying any attention to us.  We were wrong.  Before George Michael could "hit that HIGH!" I felt a tap on my shoulder.  I turned around and this really, really mean and scary looking girl was pointing her finger in my face and yelling at me. "I don't know who you think you are, and where you are from,"  she yelled, "but we don't make fun of people here!"  I was obviously on her turf.  I'll admit it...she scared me.  I tried to play dumb and say, "What are you talking about?  I wasn't making fun of you.  That's just the way I dance."  Total bull of course.  I even remember toning it down and continuing some of the same moves just to show her I wasn't lying.  LOL.  What a nerd!  Me, I mean.  Anyway, lessons learned.  I can honestly say...I have never been to another "teen club" again!

LOL!

#161 - BD

#161 was my favorite high school teacher, which is kinda funny, because he taught me least favorite high school subject...Math.  I do credit him with getting me as far as I have gotten in the Math world however.  Despite hating it, I do spend my days alternating between measuring angles (shoulder and knee range of motion), and balancing the office checkbook, calculating payroll taxes, and managing aging accounts.  Lots and lots of math...everyday. 

For those of you who haven't guessed yet, #161 was Brother Donald.  He was part of the Brothers of the Sacred Heart, looked a little like Elmer Fudd, and loved me too.  I was a great student.  I was the student that did the even's when he only assigned the odd's for homework (read - nerd).  I wrote neatly.  I skipped proper finger spaces.  When I erased, I did so completely.  My notebook at the end of the nine weeks was as orderly as when I bought it off of the shelf at K&B after orientation.  Brother Donald helped to cultivate and instill these traits in me.  I have thought of him often over the years, especially when helping my kids with math homework.  I can hear his voice when I tell them, "You cannot get the correct answer, if you are seeing the wrong answer by not erasing completely." or "If you do not write neatly, in straight lines, you open yourself up to careless errors."  I never met a math problem that I didn't feel I at least had a shot at solving because of the skills he taught me.  Even though some of it was very hard for me to grasp, I always fell back on the basics to get me through.  I am positive that this is why I did so well in Physics also.

I remember one time when I was in high school, my mom and dad invited "the Brothers" over to our house to eat dinner with us.  Brother Donald came and asked if I had done my homework yet.  I told him that I was doing it and almost finished.  He asked if he could see where I was working.  He checked out my room where I did my homework either lying on my floor or at my desk.  He asked if I ever did it with the TV or the radio on.  (I remember thinking, "Yeah, right.  Did he ever meet my mom?")  "No sir," I answered.  He just smiled.  Later on that evening he told me that he knew that I would be organized in my homework space because it showed through in my work.  I have never forgotten that.  To this day, even at my office, when I have charts piled upon charts, bills sticking out, and yellow sticky notes one on top of the other...I will usually stop...take a deep breath...and organize my desk into piles of priority.  Then I will tackle one pile at at time.  Throwing away trash and filing as I go until the problems are completed. 

Thank you Brother Donald for teaching me that (a+b) = (b+a), angles can be obtuse, acute, or right, and that there is a reason there is an eraser on the back of a pencil.  Thanks also for teaching me great study skills by rewarding positive behavior.  I don't know what came first...the OCD or Brother Donald, but both worked together to help me develop a good, organized work ethic (with some help from you mom.)  Now, if I could only teach this to my boys...I know I would really make Brother Donald proud.

One final note...after I graduated, each Christmas I would receive a Christmas card from Brother Donald in his very neat handwriting.  He would send wishes for a  Merry Christmas.  As the years passed, these wishes for first for me, then to Jeff and I, and then to Jeff and I and our family.  He never missed a year.  I always looked forward to his cards and since his death several years ago, experience a pang of sadness each year when the cards don't come. 

I can only hope that I am able to pass on some of what he taught me to my boys and that they will also have teachers that are able to teach them not only reading, writing, and arithmatic, but life lessons also.

#160 - Random woman

I have gotten a few comments lately that my blog posts have been very random people....  I don't know what to say except for
1.  I'm just following the list.  and  2.  You try to come up with 365 people to write about.

This one, I will admit, is also random, but she is representative of many people out there lacking the proper social graces.  She is the wife of a guy I know through work.  He does some subcontracting for me for equipment.  They have several children and I have met her several times at various school/athletic events for the kids.

The reason she sticks out in my mind is because one of the last times I talked to her (and yes, sometimes I can hold a grudge), was at my seven year old's Mom's Day Out preschool graduation.  So, I'll do the math and tell you that Seth was five and therefore it had been six years since I had been in the "family way."  I was actively participating faithfully at least 4 days a week in some sort of an aerobic exercise program.  Let me put it to you this way,  my "fat clothes" were too big, and I was not having to go out and buy something new to fit into for the ceremony if you get my drift.

Anyway, as we were walking out of the church building on that Sunday afternoon, #160 is walking next to me.  We exchanged, "Hi's" and "How are you's."  Then out of the blue, she busts out with, "I didn't know you were having another baby!"  "I'm not," I reply.  "Oh....." she says with an awkward pause and a glance down my body.

!#%!  What is that about?  Why do people say things like that?  Immediate self confidence from 100 to 0 in the time it takes to utter that one sentence.  I know that all you girls out there have probably heard this.  It usually comes from an old aunt or your old next door neighbor.  IT SHOULD NOT COME FROM A GIRLFRIEND!  We must unite!  From that day forward, whenever I see someone who is looking a little round in the belly area.  I not only do not ask...I do not even think it!  After all, if they wanted you to know...don't you think they would tell you?

Golden Rule of today's post: 

When In Doubt...Don't Say It!

How's that for random?