Life of Many Colors (a contemplation on the Facebook Feed Birthday Wishes)

Joseph had that splendid coat.  I have this life.  I find myself still contemplating birthday wishes from the weekend.  I did my best to offer a “thumbs up” as each came through and then on Sunday, in between packing and closing up shop for a month long return home to GR from LA, I added a “thank you”.  I wanted to do this to take in the names of the people that took the time to offer up the Happy Birthday wish to me.  It gave me the opportunity to reflect on how varied my life has been. 

My feed had well wishes from close high school friends and distant high school friends, old work colleagues, past employees, old board member friends, family friends, friends of friends, improv friends, actor friends, childhood friends, film friends, LA friends, Michigan friends, Chicago friends, old Rotarian friends, writer friends, Michigan theatre friends, LA theatre friends, LaughFest friends, my closest friends, my cousins, my husband’s relatives, my husband’s friends, my siblings, my siblings friends and even my hubby. 

Now my sister Mary Kay once said to me, “Teresa, you can’t call a person a friend unless you go to a movie with them.”  That’s her bar for friendship. I used to say something like, “Oh I ran in to my friend Carla the other day.” And she’d say, “Who’s Carla? I’ve never heard of Carla.  She’s not a friend-friend.  Would you go to a movie with her?”  Mary Kay isn’t always annoying. 

While I’ve never believed her definition to be true, her inane wisdom occasionally rolls around in the deep recesses of my brain… especially at times like these when that Facebook feed is filled with well wishes from “friends”. I thought I’d look up the definition of “friend”. It’s a NOUN (a person whom one knows and whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically exclusive of sexual or family relations) AND a VERB (to add someone to a list of contacts on a social networking website.)  How about a third definition? I’ve decided the Facebook birthday wishes are a combination of the two: a VOUN, if you will, or a NERB perhaps (someone with whom you’ve had an interaction in your life either significant or minimal that takes 10 seconds in their day to actively create a touch point for you on the anniversary of your birth.)

So by Mary Kay’s definition, my feed is not made up of friends. I certainly wouldn’t think to go to movies with the majority of the people on my Facebook feed - unless he/she asked, of course. But I’m guessing everybody on my feed would have an opinion about a movie I attended, if they felt compelled to respond to a post. And that response would be a reminder of who that person is / was in my life. Some of the people may have friended me, or I them, because we did a show together or had an amazing 20-minute conversation at a party about the state of politics in our country or he/she dated my third cousin once removed and they friended me and I didn’t have the heart to not accept the friendship because he/she has a photo of bird as their profile picture.

Regardless of how they… how YOU… ended up on my wall, you represent something in my life, some era, some moment in time that has led to me become the person I am. Your presence on my feed helped evoke a memory for me – maybe vague, maybe clear. But both, I believe, mean something.    

Thank you, friend, for helping me to remember how many diverse paths I have walked in this life and for making my birthday feel meaningful. 

No Photo To Capture the Moment

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I have been hankering to recreate this idyllic walk I took with Eddie when I first moved to LA two years ago. It always left me with such a romantic notion of the city. Oceanside, beach walk, lollygagging, sightseeing, perfection!

Needing a boost to the mental state, I decided to head over to Santa Monica last night to do just that.

About two minutes in to the drive, I realized I'd left my cell at home. Should I go back for it? Surely there will be photo ops. And the thought actually crossed my mind, “but if I don't take pictures... did it really happen?” Seriously, I am so attached to my phone to capture moments as if to prove they happened (and out of concern for forgetting the memory.) I opted to keep driving. You don't own me, Phone!

The drive there was quick and easy. This is always exciting (especially considering that an hour earlier when I picked up Eddie from doggie daycare, my 1.5 mile drive home took 30 minutes.) I made it to the beach in under 15 minutes. Woohoo!

I then spent 20 minutes looking for parking. In this time I believe I saw 87 cars pull out of spots and 87 cars pull in to them right in front of me. At 88… Finally! Success! Poor Eddie was going nuts. "Why did you drive me to this fascinating place only to drive in circles?" Oh, just you wait, Eddie, I thought. You will remember! You will love it.

We got out of the car. The place was hopping. It was fantastic. Immediately, I saw a disheveled man approach with a fairly large mutt by his side. I tend to cross away from other dogs because Eddie can be a barker, but there wasn't room to get away. Instead, I tucked in closer to a fence. Then I heard Disheveled Man say, "You got 5 seconds to get that dog outta here lady. This here is a federally trained dog." First, of all, I have no idea what that means? Is he rooting out terrorists on the beach? Checking the immigration status of other dogs? A tax collector? Anywho, his tone was menacing and disturbing. I pulled Eddie to the other side of the sidewalk and gracefully maneuvered out of the way. Once passed me I heard him mutter, "Damn dogs. Damn Women. Damn Dogs. Damn Women." Perhaps, this wasn't going to be as idyllic as I hoped.

We headed down to the beach.  Eddie was in sniff heaven.  So many new smells.  I couldn’t wait to get him on the sand.  When he had sand on his feet before, he went crazy. He ran in circles, back and forth, sand flying in the air as if trying to express to me that sand is the best thing in the world and how could I have kept it from him.  It was one of my favorite moments in life.  I don’t have kids. I imagine it’s what one feels like watching their kid walk for the first time.  Boundless joy. When we got to the sand he ran straight to it, stepped in and pooped.  That’s it.  Just poop.  Then he stepped back on the sidewalk.  I tried to walk him over to another area of sand.  He dipped his toes in and then looked up at me as if to say, “Can we move on? Sand is so two years ago.”

I headed towards the pier, passed a few tourists and an enclave of homeless dudes who seemed to be tucking in for the night.  And, believe it or not, Disheveled Man and Federal Dog were there too. What the what?  He obviously took a different route, but it was a bit creepy.  G-men, you know? Two skateboarding teens whisked by.  Eddie hates skateboarders.  He went nuts.  Barking like a mad dog.  I hoped the Federal Dog Agent wouldn’t come after us. Surely he’d put Eddie in the clinker. I got Eddie to calm down. We walked a few feet and two more skateboarders whisked by.  Bark. Bark. Bark.  Again, I got him to calm down. At that point we’d arrived to an area where a handful of skateboarders were sharing tricks of the trader.  Bark. Bark. Bark.  This was walk was neither, calm, nor idyllic.  It was stressful and annoying.

Did I mention that I was wearing new shoes? At this point the buckle had shifted and was digging a hole in to my ankle that seemed as if it would leave me permanently damaged.  I opted to head up to the street and back to the car for a change of shoes.  Plus, beyond the hotels there were waterfront homes.  I’d noticed them on one of my 27 passes looking for parking.

We headed up.  I felt bad.  There were mostly concrete walls lining the shortcut walk back.  Concrete walls aren’t nearly that exciting to sniff as peed upon trees and bushes.  I changed my shoes.  Luckily, my gym bag was in the trunk.  I headed to see new sights. If I couldn’t recreate my last trip here with Eddie, we coulds make some new memories.

Halfway there, the Mexican dinner I had started to move in ways that my intuition suggested, “This is not going to end well if you keep going.”  I did the pep step back to the car.  Happily, the traffic back was quiet and we made it back quickly.  The whole excursion took less than an hour with a little more than 30 minutes of drive time. (And I made it back in time… if you know what I mean.)

Now I mentioned that I took this adventure for two reasons – to recreate my first trip to the beach with Eddie, Idyllic. Romantic.  And to lift my mental state.

First, in the moment, I was stressed and overwhelmed. Eddie barking, feeling threatened, horrible parking, etc. But in the end, it didn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. I experienced a slice of life in LA and I still pinch myself that I can do that. Thether it turns out the way I hope for or not, I am still living new moments and that keeps me grateful.

Second, I also headed out on this little adventure in part because I was feeling a little down. And more than a little tired.  I needed to clear my head. I’m cutting down on caffeine and I’ve also been beating myself up lately because I haven’t been able to get any personal writing done.  Oh, I’ve done a TON of writing. Work related. But that’s it.  I feel like if I’m to be a good writer, I have to do both.  And I haven’t. So I beat myself up. It’s a pattern.  And as I drove home last night, I thought, I’m so grateful I forgot my damn phone. It’s forced me to write something personal. It’s given me the chance to do the very thing I was beating myself up for not doing.  Turns out “not having my phone to capture the moment,” was the exact thing I needed to capture the moment.

Despite the seeming chaos of our brief little adventure, I’m sure I’ll need to do it again. I’m sure Eddie would be game. He had a great time.  He’s a dog.  Besides, you never know what story lies in wait. Maybe the next time it will be idyllic and romantic.  Gotta keep hoping.