Whiter Shade of Pale

Need proof that all of us white folk look the same?

I'm posting from the waiting room of the Children's Hospital where Brendan is getting OT.

One of the therapists just walked back into the waiting room. She's Indian, tall and gorgeous with sparkling brown eyes.

She's looking for the mom whose driver's license and insurance card she holds in her hand. She looks down at the license and walks up to me and says, "Holly? Holly Whosit?"

Nope. Not me.

So, she then kind of yells the name out. The mom who responds to the name and comes over to her is no less than three inches shorter than me, has white blond hair and a darker complexion, and looks absolutely nothing like me.

The only explanation I have is that all white people look the same if you're not white. I recently saw an article that said babies can easily tell the difference between lots of different kinds of faces, but it's a skill that is lost over time.

I tried to find it to link to it, but the site was down.

Anyway, it kind of tickled me because I had just read a The Wordy Shipmates and in it Sarah Vowell tells a story about how one of the Algonquin tribes that has a relationship with the English basically tells Roger Williams (I think) that they can't tell one white guy from the next. This is after a Dutch trader has killed an Indian and the Indians kill an Englishman, thinking he's the Dutch guy. It was an amusing anecdote and I was just reminded of it today.

Life is Like a Musical

It has occurred to me many times over the last week that I haven't posted, but until this moment I haven't had a chance to write when my mind was actually somewhat uncluttered.

As is typical of our household, life has been a whirlwind of late. Brendan was on spring break last week and we stayed busy indoors for most of the week thanks to the pollen. Both boys had asthmatic episodes and required albuterol at various times.

We did manage to make it out to the Fernbank Natural History Museum. It was, in a word, AWESOME! You know...if you're a little geeky and love dinosaurs and 9 ft. tall giant sloths that have been extinct for several tens of thousands of years. Brendan and I had a ball. I bought a family membership and I am so glad I did. I can't wait to go back with him. I loved the Argentinosaurus (Hello, World's Biggest Dinosaur discovered by scientists from Atlanta's own museum!), while Brendan was a fan of Gigantasaurus, who looked a lot like a T-Rex.

Friday night I went with my friend Barrett to see the world premiere of big, the new ballet staged by the Atlanta Ballet and Big Boi, aka, Antwan Patton. I feel very honored to have been invited. Barrett has season tickets to the ballet and her seats are excellent – sixth row, just left of the orchestra pit. I can't say that I know anything about dance. I enjoy watching it, but I've never, ever, not once, been moved or emotionally touched by a dance performance until now. I found myself crying twice during this ballet. The first act was beautiful, lyrical, stirring, awe-inspiring. The principal dancer, Tara Lee, moved like the most graceful creature I've ever seen. She didn't seem human in her grace. I found the second act less moving and harder to follow. What I found the most moving of all perhaps was the bringing together of different ages, classes, and races for this performance. Hopefully, it will open the world of ballet to a larger audience and make it more accessible to those of us who feel like we know nothing about dance. At the same time, I think it's neat to bring modern music to the ears of those who might otherwise not be exposed to it or condemn it all as garbage, like the nearly 90-year old lady who sat in front of us. I didn't see a single person get up and leave mid-performance and I feared I might.

Big Boi's band was amazing, by the way.

On Saturday night, we drove up to Athens to hear our friend Mark's band. They were really good, although I wish we had gotten to hear more from their new singer. She has a really nice voice, but was definitely under utilized.

After all that fun and excitement and between the pollen and sitting outside in the cold on Saturday night, I have ended up with another sinus infection. I look like death warmed over, to the point that Brendan told me on Monday that he doesn't like me anymore because he doesn't like the way I look. I wasn't entirely sure how to react to that and chose to ignore it. Although I quite agree with him. I don't really like the way I look right now either. Or feel for that matter.

Here's to being well, focused, and happy. I wish that for all of you who may read this as well as for myself and my family.

Poison Oak

Okay. This is totally freaky. I just kind of had the TV on for background noise while I was surfing here this morning. And all of a sudden I look up and see the church I grew up in on TV. With the Oak Ridge Boys standing on the altar singing. Right behind them is the baptismal font where I was baptised when I was 16. The choir loft where I used to sing on Sunday nights. The balcony where I sat with my girlfriends, slipping each other notes. It's just a little weird and unexpected. Especially since the town I grew up in is tiny...only about 20,000 people. It is a suburb of Nashville, only about 30 miles away. But it's just kind of weird and unexpected and it makes me a little homesick and nostalgic.