An unusual afternoon in OKC

Yesterday, I got to experience an especially cool, out-of-the-norm work day. Symptoms of it began when I pulled into the parking garage near my office building in Oklahoma City. First, I was greeted by a parking attendant checking to see if I was a monthly (parking-pass worthy) customer because the garage was full and she was turning away one-time parkers. As I pulled in, my first thought was, “Great! I’m gonna have a tough time trying to find a parking place today.” (Yet another perk to working downtown.) I tried to remember what events were going on, but I couldn’t think of anything that would explain the extra volume of parkers. Then another attendant directed me to a parking place right by the elevators on the sixth floor (in a strip where parking is usually not allowed.) “Bonus!”  Okay, my day was shaping up to be strange, but not in a bad way. As I walked out of the garage I noticed several notes having ‘BUB’ scrawled on them with black marker and posted  about every 30 feet like bread crumbs. I felt a little rush of adrenaline. What’s going on? The make-shift signs and  I parted ways once I got around the corner, but the journalist in me wanted to follow them. Oh, well. I had to get to work, so the adventure came to an end.

To make myself feel better, I decided that it was probably just something to do with a lame conference or boring company event for bigwigs.

Early in the afternoon, my friend Christy and I went across the street to get a soda. We remembered the signs and started speculating what the deal was. We wistfully gazed north where the green-papered BUBs pointed. We could see by the crowd that there was definitely something interesting up at Leadership Square. We couldn’t stand it anymore and we were so close (only half a block away). We went  to check it out. As we drew closer, we could make out  police cars blocking the street from traffic, several trucks filled with various equipment,  a black limo, large microphones, and a film crew. My actress friend realized it was most likely the same group connected to a casting party she had attended the week before. It was. The movie “Bringing Up Bobby” was being shot on location in the middle of downtown OKC.

This wasn’t an amateur film production, either. The actors we saw are very well-known and have been in too many top movies to bother listing. The director was none other than the willowy Famke Janssen, also known as Jean Grey/Phoenix of X-men fame, not to mention a Bond girl in “GoldenEye.” She was just as beautiful in person as she appears on the big screen. And acting out scenes were the ever popular action-film star Milla Jovovich (an all-time favorite - LeeLoo from “The Fifth Element,” Alice in the “Resident Evil” movies and star of “Ultraviolet”) and the endearing Bill Pullman, unsuspecting love interest of Sandra Bullock in “While You Were Sleeping,” the brave president/pilot in “Independence Day” and quirky dad in “Casper,” among others.

It’s not every day you get to watch Hollywood hard at work in the center of your reality.

Lessons I learned from dad's 1960 Austin-Healey

When I was young, there was a lengthy period of time when my dad wasn’t around. Many might say that no good could ever come of a situation like that. It wasn't really a big deal in my eyes at the time - my mom and I were well established as a duo before she remarried. She was extremely proficient at taking care of me, so I never felt like I was missing out. Still, I was curious about this whole ‘dad’ thing. Besides, mom apparently couldn’t live without him so he must’ve had something good to offer. I trusted her judgment, so I waited to see.
Throughout that time I could have pouted and whined that he was never there, but I didn’t. I could have wondered what point was there in having a dad who was hardly around, but I didn’t. I could have become rebellious and defiant to get his attention, but I didn’t. I just watched and waited.
Even through those early ‘MIA’ years, I was learning from him. (Though I suspect that what I was learning ended up being very different than what he feared he had taught me.) One thing is certain, he didn’t need to be in the room for me to get the benefit of having him in my life.
He spent all his days in the usual fashion, working hard and earning a living as an electrician. But seeing him after he got off work was pretty rare. Every night he would head straight into his garage. He hardly came in the house except to clean up and go to bed (which was long after I was asleep). Weekends were spent the same way. To me, the sun seemed to revolve around that garage. Sometimes I would get to carry his dinner out to him. You see, he didn't even come inside to eat. All I could figure was that this man must have something really important under way to dedicate so much of his time and energy to it.
I was right.
This special project of his spanned three years and changed the way I would approach life forever.
What was he doing all that time? To a 10-year-old kid, he was doing the impossible. By typical standards, people might say he had lost his mind for attempting it. Even more of them might flatly turn down millions of dollars if they were challenged to accomplish the same feat.
In his beat-up, broken-down, tiny-excuse-for-a-garage, he was giving birth to something magnificent. He was building a car from the ground up - but more importantly - he was building a legacy of character in the eyes of his new daughter.
People might have assumed that he didn’t want to spend time with me, but I didn’t. People might have assumed that he loved a heap of metal and rubber more than his family, but I didn’t. People might have assumed that he was just following a selfish dream and that it was the most important thing to him, but I didn’t.
You see, even if those things were true, the cool thing about being young is that you’re not weighed down by all that emotional garbage. Kids naturally accept things that adults often can’t. I had simply let this man be what and who he was. I didn’t let assumptions or personal issues get in the way. And for that reason alone, I was allowed by the grace of God to view the situation from a much better perspective.
I saw patience in a man determined to achieve something no matter how long it took. I saw boldness in a man confident enough to reach for anything he desired. I saw fortitude in a man pushing through innumerable challenges and unforeseen problems. I saw tenacity in a man keeping his eyes on the prize and letting nothing keep him from it. I saw strength in a man achieving an awesome goal he had set for himself. I saw stability in a man who utterly refused to give up. I saw hope in a man believing day after day that he was going to see his purpose through until it was finished.
In the end, dad got a neat little car out of the deal, but I got so much more.
What I learned was priceless, and he taught it to me when he wasn’t around.
***
When the only consistency we see in this world is that of human failure, when we are overwhelmed by those who constantly fall short of our expectations, when we can no longer tolerate disappointing ourselves and those around us, perhaps what we need is a change in perspective. We need to get back to that child-like acceptance that understands that people aren’t perfect. Even in the middle of our screw-ups and messes we make for ourselves, God can turn it around and rework them into something truly amazing. In fact, oftentimes, He already has.

Technology and people

While trying to figure out how my new blog site works, I am reminded of how much like a dinosaur I feel when dealing with new technology. I have a hard time accepting new things (I’m quite comfortable sticking with what I know well), but I’m stubborn and curious enough to keep trying to get a handle on it. But with each new techie item that comes out I see myself spending more time typing away and less time talking to someone.

Though it is fascinating to see and use these cool new  things we have out now,  it is more than a little disheartening to me because I feel like people are drifting farther away from personal contact.

I may feel the urge to ‘keep up’ with the latest technology, but I need to remember to temper it with some ‘old school’ traditions. (Like hand writing and mailing letters and thank you cards along with my usual e-mail conversations, and being sure to routinely schedule face-to-face activities with Facebook friends I chat with.)

It seems that we are on the verge of becoming completely isolated from all human interaction. And for people that struggle with relationship  issues (which applies to most of us), this is obviously the easiest route to functioning in society without having to address or work through said issues. This is very dangerous ground. (The easy road typically is.)  We have become very good at avoiding the ‘elephants in the room’ with all our nifty techie tools. Perhaps too good. Some people may live out their entire lives without ever having a single meaningful relationship with anyone thanks to our society’s latest level of ‘progress’.

Bottom line: Life is hard. Burying heads in the sand doesn’t resolve that. In fact, it just prolongs suffering through those problems (and often escalates their seriousness) and leaves sand in uncomfortable places.

We have to challenge each other to choose the harder (more rewarding) road every day. No doubt, it will hurt; you will cry; your heart will get broken; you will be vulnerable at times; you will be forced to face and deal with faults and weaknesses that you would much rather avoid. But what is life really worth when you’re using  it up cramped in a tiny room with elephants? I’d rather get out  where there’s room to breathe and fight to reach my potential surrounded by the people that God put me here to achieve it with.

Remembering Ted

Ted Misa was the kind of man that made you fall in love with him instantly. You just couldn't help it. He was smart, charming, and funny. There was something very special about this guy, even though years of trying couldn't get you any closer to putting your finger on what specifically it was. (I've decided it was the whole package.) He had an immeasurable talent for picking out the weirdest ice cream flavors and you couldn't shake the peacefulness that would wash over you when you were around him, no matter what mood you started out in. (Not that you'd want to.) He had a unique ability to bring joy to anyone he met.
My first encounter with him was quite memorable. As a young woman trying to win the heart of his son David, I was already more than a little rattled about meeting 'the parents'. I was a divorcee with two small children and a skittish demeanor thanks to a marriage gone bad. The mere thought of getting my poorly bandaged heart tangled up with a new family had me on the verge of a complete meltdown.
We showed up at Dave's parents' house to find them in the kitchen having a rather lively discussion about cabinets. Before introductions were even over, Ted presented me with a challenge. He asked me if I liked wood cabinets or painted ones. He went on to explain - with that charming smile of his - that I was going to have to choose which of Dave's parents I was going to side with. (No pressure, lol!) He wouldn't tell me which of them preferred what. I suddenly felt ill, yet I was intrigued by this man who had the audacity to pitch me in over my head right from the start. I come from a world were you hold back until you're certain the water's not too deep, especially when it comes to people. In typical Ted fashion, he completely put himself out there, not caring how vulnerable he might become to this stranger in his home.
Also, with the subtlety of this challenge, he kept me from getting hung up in the politics of relationships or strategic power plays, as one might do when trying to maneuver into the best light with someone new. Once disarmed, I was free to begin an unusually open adventure through life with this mysterious man.
BTW- I apparently gave the answer he was looking for (which was wood) and from then on we were kindred spirits. He was overjoyed at his discovery of a new alliance and that's the way it remained for the next 19 years. (Not to worry, Dave's mom was just as happy with the result. She lives for someone to be cantankerous with, so opposition is something she enjoys - all in good fun, of course.)
Anyway, the man whose name I've had the honor of calling my own for nearly 15 years has gone to a better place. And though I will miss him dearly, I will cherish those days he kept me laughing through my darkest days, encouraged me when no one else would, and loved me through it all without holding back.