Recently my students turned in their culminating project for the sophomore year at Norman North: the Autobiography. It really is a huge assignment, but in the end they either really learn to appreciate it (and themselves) or they just throw something together without really getting the main idea of the project. Which just happens to be spending time on your own and discovering, through writing, who you are and maybe just who you would like to be.
In preparation for this huge endeavor I was doing a lesson on one of the assignments with my students. The assignment was to write a "Where I'm From" poem based on George Ella Lyon's poem of the same title. I have always believed in giving the kids an example of what I want from them, and this was no exception. Plus, this ended up being very meaningful to me, not just because my students appreciated seeing a more personal side of me, but because it was almost painful to write. I find the word "home" is always synonymous with Grandpa lately, which just goes to show how much I really miss him. My example...
Where I’m From
I’m from the basketball court, Crayola markers and Crystal Lite Sugar Free Pink Lemonade.
I’m from the house with a misplaced back door and a front door that never sees visitors. From the wide open sky painted by sunsets every evening and scattered with stars every night. From rain scented leaves after a spring thunderstorm.
I am from the mighty Cottonwood and the delicate iris, the hardy buffalo grass that always perseveres.
I’m from Christmas Eve and Rudolph and stubbornness, from Bieberle’s and Musil’s, and a love so strong no tragedy can break us.
I am from the need to always be right and the need to please.
From “you better put that lip back in or a bird will come and poop on it” and say your prayers every night.
I am from rosaries and stained glass. From “Our Father, who art in Heaven” and sit in the 2nd pew from the back every Sunday.
I’m from the Bible Belt, the windswept plains where everything is flat and the deer and the antelope roam. From German Catholics. Steak cooked rare and spaghetti squash.
From the “I remember the time I…” and usually it was true, the Grandpa whose story was always better than yours, and the home-cooked food that said, “I love you” with every bite.
I am from cracking photo albums decorated in 70s floral prints, from faded photos full of finger smudges, from faces smiling through a film of plastic because we can’t let go.
I’m from them, but I’m also from me.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Monday, February 7, 2011
Dear Grandpa
Today marks the one year anniversary of the day Grandpa Bieberle made his journey to Heaven. And even though I miss him terribly, I'm so thankful he is in a better place and no longer hurting. He's also in very good company...and I'm sure there's never a dull moment between the 3 of them!
Last year I was asked to write a speech for the service the night before his funeral (the Rosary or wake, whichever you prefer to call it). In memory of my Grandpa, I wanted to post that speech. I only wrote it a couple hours before giving it...but I think it was the spirit of the words more than the words themselves that were important that night.
Love you always Grandpa!
The definition of a farm reads as a tract of land, usually with a house, barn, and silo, on which crops and often livestock are raised for livelihood. And my farm has some of those things and is used, in principle, for that purpose, but no dictionary definition of a farm matches mine. On sticky, summer evenings you can hear the crack of a bat ring throughout the yard of my farm. If the batter is lucky enough to get a good hit they race around the rocks, or bases, and slide home. Chilly, winter nights at my farm bring booming laughter that echoes through the dining room between multiple games of Skip-Bo and hot homemade popcorn. My farm isn’t a place full of livestock and machines. My farm is a home full of people, love and laughter. And most importantly, the man who started it all…Grandpa.
To try use a serious tone throughout this whole speech would be a lie, because Grandpa was hardly a serious person. Although there was a serious and solemn farmer in his heart, he’d much rather be smiling and laughing. My farm is full of laughter. And usually by the time we’re done laughing we can’t even remember what started it. But I think that’s the best part of my family. It never did and never will matter what makes us laugh or makes us happy, as long as there’s joy in what we do. I remember many car rides where something, usually just a word or something Grandpa said, got the whole vehicle giggling and before long we were either choking or tearing up from laughing so hard. This seemed to always happen during nights of cards as well. I think every time we played Skip-Bo we had to remind Grandpa that you could only have 4 discard piles and that you could, in fact, put all your 12’s in one pile…not in 3. I think our advice on the rules was conveniently ignored, because Grandpa always played the game according to his own rules…and then got that goofy grin on his face when he won.
My farm is a safe haven for all of us. And no one looked out for his grandkids more than Grandpa. Even if most of the time we thought he was trying to ruin our fun, it’s clear that he only had our best interests at heart. When I was in junior high the farm received its first four-wheeler. A grandparents’ nightmare (although there is a story of Grandpa secretly enjoying the four-wheeler…a story that ends in a flipped four-wheeler and surgery…). Marshall, Amanda, Jennifer and I were more than excited about this new toy. It was like a new bike, except bigger, faster, and no pedaling required! Grandpa quickly banned us from riding it on the “super-busy” sand roads, which left us the driveway. This became boring fast and so we mapped out a new four-wheeler track through the yard. The track was drawn and made all before Grandpa realized we were driving that 1,000 lb machine through his precious grass. I think he endured that torture for a whole afternoon before we were banned from the yard as well. Looking back and realizing how young we all were I’m amazed he even let me drive the four-wheeler, especially with the younger kids riding.
As we were remembering Grandpa I realized that almost all our memories involve wheels. When we were little those wheels were a golden tan color and had a gun rack in the back. And whenever those wheels pulled out of the driveway it was a race to see which grandkid could get out the door fast enough to receive the honor of going with Grandpa, even if it was just to check his bossies. And even though I was scared of the cows, I was usually the one that got to the truck first. I don’t know why Grandpa bothered ever taking me, since I refused to roll down the windows if we were within 20 feet of a cow, even if it was 100 degrees outside. And if he “let” me ride in the back, I sat in the very middle right next to the back window. As far away from the cows as I could get, while he yelled, “Come Boss!” and counted.
He helped teach Marshall and I to drive as we grew up. And anyone that has ever been the driver with Grandpa as the passenger knows how cautious he insisted on being. He had this sneaky little way of peeking at the odometer and casually asking, “How fast you going?” when he knew good and well what the answer was. It was his little way of saying “Maybe you should slow down.” He also stated on one vacation to Branson with Karen, Amanda, Jennifer, and Grandma that if he ever won the lottery he would buy a Hummer.
My farm is full of tradition. Times change and people grow older but the traditions instilled at the farm make it feel like time can magically stop when we’re together. Christmas will always be the most valued tradition at my farm. Grandpa never went with us to look for Rudolph; he was always on Santa-watching duty. And he was always ready for us to run back through the doors after, once again missing Santa but still finding our presents. It didn’t matter how many grandkids there were that year, Grandpa would protest that we opened presents too fast during the Santa presents and he couldn’t see what we were doing. And then proceed to hurry us along during the family presents, just in case we didn’t get done in enough time to get ready for Midnight Mass. Even if it was only 9:30.
My farm is full of overwhelming support for each of us grandkids. Grandpa was a bulldog, a leopard, and a thunderbird. A black and gold hat could quickly be exchanged for one with blue and white. Teams and colors didn’t really matter, as long as his grandkid was competing. He was always ready to go to Amanda’s long powerlifting meets and she remembers one specifically where he pulled her to the side while the girl with the winning weight was taking her turn and joked that he would go and take some of the weight off that girls bar so Amanda would win if she wanted him to. He was a dedicated Leopard as well. LaCrosse became almost a second home for Grandma and Grandpa during Marshall’s 4 years of high school. I think he saw a lot of himself in Marshall, which made him extra proud of his grandson. He always told us stories from his football days and the time he hit a baseball over the roof of the school here at Holy Name. Anyone that spent a few minutes with Grandpa would hear a few stories or get an update on Marshall’s football or whatever new sport Jerred had been trying. And if you were looking for him on summer evenings it was mostly likely that he would be at Chelsey or Jerred’s baseball games. What a blessing it has been for all of us kids to live so close Grandma and Grandpa. They don’t have to worry about traveling to see us and we get to spend invaluable time as a family.
Even though many of my memories of Grandpa are light-hearted and cheerful, there is still that hard-working, dedicated farmer with dirty hands at his core. When he wasn’t Grandpa, he was a diligent worker, whether it be in the oil field or on the tractor. It was that work ethic, those bare hands, that built my farm, that built the stout hearts of his kids and the loyal hearts of his grandkids. His work ethic built the traditions at my farm, built a safe haven for all that are a part of his family, and after all that hard work was done, my farm was full of laughter. American journalist, Chuck Palahniuk once said, “We all die. The goal isn’t to live forever, the goal is to create something that will.” And Grandpa did. Thank you, Grandpa, for my farm. For our farm.
Last year I was asked to write a speech for the service the night before his funeral (the Rosary or wake, whichever you prefer to call it). In memory of my Grandpa, I wanted to post that speech. I only wrote it a couple hours before giving it...but I think it was the spirit of the words more than the words themselves that were important that night.
Love you always Grandpa!
The definition of a farm reads as a tract of land, usually with a house, barn, and silo, on which crops and often livestock are raised for livelihood. And my farm has some of those things and is used, in principle, for that purpose, but no dictionary definition of a farm matches mine. On sticky, summer evenings you can hear the crack of a bat ring throughout the yard of my farm. If the batter is lucky enough to get a good hit they race around the rocks, or bases, and slide home. Chilly, winter nights at my farm bring booming laughter that echoes through the dining room between multiple games of Skip-Bo and hot homemade popcorn. My farm isn’t a place full of livestock and machines. My farm is a home full of people, love and laughter. And most importantly, the man who started it all…Grandpa.
To try use a serious tone throughout this whole speech would be a lie, because Grandpa was hardly a serious person. Although there was a serious and solemn farmer in his heart, he’d much rather be smiling and laughing. My farm is full of laughter. And usually by the time we’re done laughing we can’t even remember what started it. But I think that’s the best part of my family. It never did and never will matter what makes us laugh or makes us happy, as long as there’s joy in what we do. I remember many car rides where something, usually just a word or something Grandpa said, got the whole vehicle giggling and before long we were either choking or tearing up from laughing so hard. This seemed to always happen during nights of cards as well. I think every time we played Skip-Bo we had to remind Grandpa that you could only have 4 discard piles and that you could, in fact, put all your 12’s in one pile…not in 3. I think our advice on the rules was conveniently ignored, because Grandpa always played the game according to his own rules…and then got that goofy grin on his face when he won.
My farm is a safe haven for all of us. And no one looked out for his grandkids more than Grandpa. Even if most of the time we thought he was trying to ruin our fun, it’s clear that he only had our best interests at heart. When I was in junior high the farm received its first four-wheeler. A grandparents’ nightmare (although there is a story of Grandpa secretly enjoying the four-wheeler…a story that ends in a flipped four-wheeler and surgery…). Marshall, Amanda, Jennifer and I were more than excited about this new toy. It was like a new bike, except bigger, faster, and no pedaling required! Grandpa quickly banned us from riding it on the “super-busy” sand roads, which left us the driveway. This became boring fast and so we mapped out a new four-wheeler track through the yard. The track was drawn and made all before Grandpa realized we were driving that 1,000 lb machine through his precious grass. I think he endured that torture for a whole afternoon before we were banned from the yard as well. Looking back and realizing how young we all were I’m amazed he even let me drive the four-wheeler, especially with the younger kids riding.
As we were remembering Grandpa I realized that almost all our memories involve wheels. When we were little those wheels were a golden tan color and had a gun rack in the back. And whenever those wheels pulled out of the driveway it was a race to see which grandkid could get out the door fast enough to receive the honor of going with Grandpa, even if it was just to check his bossies. And even though I was scared of the cows, I was usually the one that got to the truck first. I don’t know why Grandpa bothered ever taking me, since I refused to roll down the windows if we were within 20 feet of a cow, even if it was 100 degrees outside. And if he “let” me ride in the back, I sat in the very middle right next to the back window. As far away from the cows as I could get, while he yelled, “Come Boss!” and counted.
He helped teach Marshall and I to drive as we grew up. And anyone that has ever been the driver with Grandpa as the passenger knows how cautious he insisted on being. He had this sneaky little way of peeking at the odometer and casually asking, “How fast you going?” when he knew good and well what the answer was. It was his little way of saying “Maybe you should slow down.” He also stated on one vacation to Branson with Karen, Amanda, Jennifer, and Grandma that if he ever won the lottery he would buy a Hummer.
My farm is full of tradition. Times change and people grow older but the traditions instilled at the farm make it feel like time can magically stop when we’re together. Christmas will always be the most valued tradition at my farm. Grandpa never went with us to look for Rudolph; he was always on Santa-watching duty. And he was always ready for us to run back through the doors after, once again missing Santa but still finding our presents. It didn’t matter how many grandkids there were that year, Grandpa would protest that we opened presents too fast during the Santa presents and he couldn’t see what we were doing. And then proceed to hurry us along during the family presents, just in case we didn’t get done in enough time to get ready for Midnight Mass. Even if it was only 9:30.
My farm is full of overwhelming support for each of us grandkids. Grandpa was a bulldog, a leopard, and a thunderbird. A black and gold hat could quickly be exchanged for one with blue and white. Teams and colors didn’t really matter, as long as his grandkid was competing. He was always ready to go to Amanda’s long powerlifting meets and she remembers one specifically where he pulled her to the side while the girl with the winning weight was taking her turn and joked that he would go and take some of the weight off that girls bar so Amanda would win if she wanted him to. He was a dedicated Leopard as well. LaCrosse became almost a second home for Grandma and Grandpa during Marshall’s 4 years of high school. I think he saw a lot of himself in Marshall, which made him extra proud of his grandson. He always told us stories from his football days and the time he hit a baseball over the roof of the school here at Holy Name. Anyone that spent a few minutes with Grandpa would hear a few stories or get an update on Marshall’s football or whatever new sport Jerred had been trying. And if you were looking for him on summer evenings it was mostly likely that he would be at Chelsey or Jerred’s baseball games. What a blessing it has been for all of us kids to live so close Grandma and Grandpa. They don’t have to worry about traveling to see us and we get to spend invaluable time as a family.
Even though many of my memories of Grandpa are light-hearted and cheerful, there is still that hard-working, dedicated farmer with dirty hands at his core. When he wasn’t Grandpa, he was a diligent worker, whether it be in the oil field or on the tractor. It was that work ethic, those bare hands, that built my farm, that built the stout hearts of his kids and the loyal hearts of his grandkids. His work ethic built the traditions at my farm, built a safe haven for all that are a part of his family, and after all that hard work was done, my farm was full of laughter. American journalist, Chuck Palahniuk once said, “We all die. The goal isn’t to live forever, the goal is to create something that will.” And Grandpa did. Thank you, Grandpa, for my farm. For our farm.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Mockingjay
The Hunger Games Trilogy. Truly one of the first series that has grabbed my soul since Harry Potter. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve read many books that I’ve enjoyed since HP 7 hit the shelves, but none that have comprised all the elements I believe make a story that will last: characters I CARE about, the inability to put the book down, a connection to the “real” world… Suzanne Collins accomplished this with a post-apocalyptic tale about a dystopia society that actually mirrors a civilization from 45 B.C.
Connection to the real world? Check. I kept feeling a sense of déjà vu while reading this book, since my sophomore English class is starting Julius Caesar at the same time. I’ve been doing research on my own and reading JC in my spare time…just to familiarize myself with the material before my kids get to it. And after I finished “Mockingjay” I kept thinking to myself, “Now wait…what did I just read???” The most bizarre aspect was on Monday a student came up to me after class and asked if there was any connection to the world Collins had created and the acienct Rome we were studying, besides the obvious names (Plutarch, Cinna, Portia, Octavia{us}, Flavia{us}, etc.) The other connections are a blog post of their own…so on we go.
Like most readers, in order for me to classify a book as “good” I need to feel a great connection to one or more of the characters. Collins accomplished this. At the end of “Mockinjay” I’m still trying to decide how I feel about Katniss, but that right there tells me her character is meaningful. I can’t figure out if want to commend her for her endurance, or denounce her for her weakness. Or a little of both. My initial reaction was to condemn the girl from District 12 for her lack of “acceptance of responsibility,” as it were. For me, Katniss spent too much time wallowing in self-pity and morphling and not enough time taking the problems Snow dealt her and facing them head on. I wanted her to take charge. To actually BE the Mockingjay directly, not just indirectly. I understand, of course, that this would have made the story much less interesting and on further reflection I’ve decided this all stems from my hatred of weakness in my own life. Yes, I know weaknesses are not necessarily something to be ashamed of, but I’ve NEVER been one to show them. It makes my stomach roil to see Katniss so passive about showing hers. With talking about them…with breaking down. Which brings to the part of this series I was most able to connect with—being broken. Halfway through “Mockingjay” Katniss realizes how Snow is using Peeta against her. It’s at this point in the novel that what little spark she has left struggles against a wave of angst, hurt, yearning, despair...Struggles to avoid being snuffed out. And it’s not just this new realization that causes such a dramatic
change in our Katniss. It’s the realization that everything she has done or tried to do for GOOD has ultimately been turned against her. Every decision she thought was her own was actually orchestrated by some unseen hand. She even begins to question the validity of her emotions. The scene in the bunker after her realization and the conversation with Finnick are so raw for me. Katniss describes herself that night:
I’m not flailing now, as my muscles are rigid with the tension of holding myself together. The pain over my heart returns, and from it I imagine tiny fissures spreading out into my body. Though my torso, down my arms and legs, over my face, leaving it crisscrossed with cracks. One good jolt of a bunker missile and I could shatter into strange razor-sharp shards. (154)
I get it. Dear Katniss, I understand. Because Broken and I are old friends. And this is where my sympathy for Katniss comes in. It’s not until this scene. These words. When she actually, metamorphically, “breaks” that I get it. I’ve been there. We probably all have at one time or another. And granted..…my encounter with Broken lasted MANY more years than it did for Katniss, but I get it. I get her. I understand her motives. That need to do something, ANYTHING, just so you don’t have to feel so broken. So nothing. Finnick gives Katniss the best advice, in my opinion. He says,
“Better not to give in to it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart” (156).
I couldn’t have said it better myself. It’s so true. Once you’re gone, finding your way back is like swimming in a sea of morphling.
The best part about the ending of this novel is that Katniss won her OWN war. Yes, we care that Snow and Coin are both gone. We care that the Hunger Games are no longer taking place, we care that Haymitch will always be there for Katniss and that Gale retreats to District 2 because he knows Katniss will never truly be his. BUT the most important battle won is Katniss’ inner conflict. While she may never be fully free of her demons, she has mended. And she lives.
As with any book I love, I will be interested to see how the movie adaptation follows the plot. This is complex story with some gruesome topics. In order for the full impact of the story to be realized I hope director Gary Ross delves into the hard subject matter.
Connection to the real world? Check. I kept feeling a sense of déjà vu while reading this book, since my sophomore English class is starting Julius Caesar at the same time. I’ve been doing research on my own and reading JC in my spare time…just to familiarize myself with the material before my kids get to it. And after I finished “Mockingjay” I kept thinking to myself, “Now wait…what did I just read???” The most bizarre aspect was on Monday a student came up to me after class and asked if there was any connection to the world Collins had created and the acienct Rome we were studying, besides the obvious names (Plutarch, Cinna, Portia, Octavia{us}, Flavia{us}, etc.) The other connections are a blog post of their own…so on we go.
Like most readers, in order for me to classify a book as “good” I need to feel a great connection to one or more of the characters. Collins accomplished this. At the end of “Mockinjay” I’m still trying to decide how I feel about Katniss, but that right there tells me her character is meaningful. I can’t figure out if want to commend her for her endurance, or denounce her for her weakness. Or a little of both. My initial reaction was to condemn the girl from District 12 for her lack of “acceptance of responsibility,” as it were. For me, Katniss spent too much time wallowing in self-pity and morphling and not enough time taking the problems Snow dealt her and facing them head on. I wanted her to take charge. To actually BE the Mockingjay directly, not just indirectly. I understand, of course, that this would have made the story much less interesting and on further reflection I’ve decided this all stems from my hatred of weakness in my own life. Yes, I know weaknesses are not necessarily something to be ashamed of, but I’ve NEVER been one to show them. It makes my stomach roil to see Katniss so passive about showing hers. With talking about them…with breaking down. Which brings to the part of this series I was most able to connect with—being broken. Halfway through “Mockingjay” Katniss realizes how Snow is using Peeta against her. It’s at this point in the novel that what little spark she has left struggles against a wave of angst, hurt, yearning, despair...Struggles to avoid being snuffed out. And it’s not just this new realization that causes such a dramatic
I’m not flailing now, as my muscles are rigid with the tension of holding myself together. The pain over my heart returns, and from it I imagine tiny fissures spreading out into my body. Though my torso, down my arms and legs, over my face, leaving it crisscrossed with cracks. One good jolt of a bunker missile and I could shatter into strange razor-sharp shards. (154)
I get it. Dear Katniss, I understand. Because Broken and I are old friends. And this is where my sympathy for Katniss comes in. It’s not until this scene. These words. When she actually, metamorphically, “breaks” that I get it. I’ve been there. We probably all have at one time or another. And granted..…my encounter with Broken lasted MANY more years than it did for Katniss, but I get it. I get her. I understand her motives. That need to do something, ANYTHING, just so you don’t have to feel so broken. So nothing. Finnick gives Katniss the best advice, in my opinion. He says,
“Better not to give in to it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart” (156).
I couldn’t have said it better myself. It’s so true. Once you’re gone, finding your way back is like swimming in a sea of morphling.
The best part about the ending of this novel is that Katniss won her OWN war. Yes, we care that Snow and Coin are both gone. We care that the Hunger Games are no longer taking place, we care that Haymitch will always be there for Katniss and that Gale retreats to District 2 because he knows Katniss will never truly be his. BUT the most important battle won is Katniss’ inner conflict. While she may never be fully free of her demons, she has mended. And she lives.
As with any book I love, I will be interested to see how the movie adaptation follows the plot. This is complex story with some gruesome topics. In order for the full impact of the story to be realized I hope director Gary Ross delves into the hard subject matter.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Eat, Pray, Love
My last year of college there were more than a few of my friends who recommended this book to me. Me being me, I always dismissed the fact that I might actually need to read it, and pushed it aside. Now that they're finally making a movie about it (which seems to happen with every best-seller these days) I have actually picked up my own copy, dusted off the cover, and begun to read. And I'm amazed. Why didn't I read this years ago??? It must be true what one unnamed friend said...that this book will really help you, even if you least expect it.
The book is the autobiography of Elizabeth (Liz) Gilbert and her travels. After a long and painful divorce she decides to take life into her own hands. She travels to Italy to eat, India to pray, and Bali to love. Perfect. I couldn't think of anything better. I thought I might get bored after she left Roma, the pasta, and the gelato. But no, Maybe India was what I really needed to read about. Liz is on her own spiritual journey. She was raised Christian, but also identifies with other religions. Much like I feel I do. I feel like after reading about her that I've finally found someone else who believes in God like I do. That just because I'm Catholic and devoted to my church, that it's not necessarily the ONLY way to God. As long as person finds a way to be close to God, why does it matter what religion they follow? Of course, she said it much better than me, but to understand you'll just have to pick it up!
I'm in love with her language. Her sense of humor. So many times I've wondered if I ever wrote a book, would anyone read it? Now I know there's hope. Not that I would dare compare myself to a professional, but I always imagined my tone being something similar to Liz's. And boy do I love reading Liz's writing! Numerous times I've caught myself laughing to my empty bedroom. One such example:
"To my taste, the men in Rome are ridiculously, hurtfully, stupidly beautiful."
Yes, Liz. That's JUST the way I'd describe Italian men. It should be a sin for men to be so handsome.
I even got my best friend to get the audiobook of "Eat,Pray,Love" and have talked to numerous other people about it. I hope some of them pick it up as well. It's liberating to know that there are other people in the world that feel like you do. That there are others who have been drowning, and yet resurfaced. That there's hope.
Ciao
The book is the autobiography of Elizabeth (Liz) Gilbert and her travels. After a long and painful divorce she decides to take life into her own hands. She travels to Italy to eat, India to pray, and Bali to love. Perfect. I couldn't think of anything better. I thought I might get bored after she left Roma, the pasta, and the gelato. But no, Maybe India was what I really needed to read about. Liz is on her own spiritual journey. She was raised Christian, but also identifies with other religions. Much like I feel I do. I feel like after reading about her that I've finally found someone else who believes in God like I do. That just because I'm Catholic and devoted to my church, that it's not necessarily the ONLY way to God. As long as person finds a way to be close to God, why does it matter what religion they follow? Of course, she said it much better than me, but to understand you'll just have to pick it up!
I'm in love with her language. Her sense of humor. So many times I've wondered if I ever wrote a book, would anyone read it? Now I know there's hope. Not that I would dare compare myself to a professional, but I always imagined my tone being something similar to Liz's. And boy do I love reading Liz's writing! Numerous times I've caught myself laughing to my empty bedroom. One such example:
"To my taste, the men in Rome are ridiculously, hurtfully, stupidly beautiful."
Yes, Liz. That's JUST the way I'd describe Italian men. It should be a sin for men to be so handsome.
I even got my best friend to get the audiobook of "Eat,Pray,Love" and have talked to numerous other people about it. I hope some of them pick it up as well. It's liberating to know that there are other people in the world that feel like you do. That there are others who have been drowning, and yet resurfaced. That there's hope.
Ciao
Saturday, June 26, 2010
1 Year Anniversary
One of the prevailing questions that has surfaced on this one year anniversary of Michael’s death has been “Where were you when Michael Jackson died??”
Let me tell you: I was at my Aunt Audria and Uncle Jerry’s house in the middle of nowhere Kansas. Lucky me, there was an afternoon thunderstorm, no electricity, and I was in the middle of calling softball girls from the landline phone to let them know their game had been cancelled for that night (my aunt was the coach.) All the sudden I start getting texts from friends, both young and old. “So sorry for your loss!” “I thought it was a joke Thinking of you…” etc. Never anything with a name or what they were referring to. Finally I call my mom, who is in the harvest field, but has a radio in the grain truck. She answers the phone, “Meredith???” In that tone where she’s trying to feel me out before she actually says something. At this point I’m almost hysterical. Almost in tears I keep repeating…what’s going on?!?! What happened?!?!? She’s like, “You don’t know?” Another classic “Here’s Your Sign” moment for my mother. Uh, yeah Mom. I know all the details, yet I’m calling you in a near panic. Come on!! Finally she says, “About Michael?” …..
There’s so many things that have crossed my mind during the coverage of the one year anniversary of Michael’s death. I can hardly process it all. But the one thing that has been more than evident is the pure outpouring of love that has occurred in the last year. People actually talking to other people about healing the world, about changing their ways. And then actually takes steps to do those things. About Michael’s songs and his message. Years ago I remember being the ONLY Michael defendant (yes, defendant) in my entire school! But I always stood up for him and proudly supported him. And now it’s “cool” to be a fan again. How things have changed. I’m sure Michael is grateful for these changes, but then again, why did people ever doubt him? It absolutely amazes me how many people fell under the spell of tabloids and lies and merely found it easier to ridicule him then to dig for the truth. And also ridiculed those who chose to stay loyal to their hero, instead of taking the easy road.
But beyond all that. I feel so liberated. I talk freely about my love for this man whom I never met with anyone who will listen. You may think it’s strange, obsessive, weird. But there’s a reason I’m so inspired by him. I’m not sure what that reason is just yet, but at some point in my life it will become clear.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Hello, Goodbye
In the past 4 (yes, 4) months since I've updated this blog I have finally come to the realization of why I, ahem, don't update this blog. In these last couple months many of my friends have started, or started updating, their blogs and, in all honestly, it's more fun most of the time to read about their lives/thoughts than write my own. But I do realize that since writing is a form of "therapy" for me, reading other peoples' thoughts isn't really going to do to me much good in the long run.
So here's to making a conscience effort to update on a regular basis. Mainly because I have a myriad of interesting things to say ;)
Ciao
So here's to making a conscience effort to update on a regular basis. Mainly because I have a myriad of interesting things to say ;)
Ciao
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Bigger Than Me
So much of my time lately has been spent answering that all important question, "What am I going to do with the rest of my life?" that I've found it difficult to concentrate on actually LIVING my life in this moment. After some reflection, I've realized that this is partly my fault, partly my mom's, and partly God's. Yes, God, I am placing SOME of the blame for my current predicament on you, merely because You're the one with the plan and You're the one who hasn't clearly revealed it to me yet. My poor mother is only acting out of motherly kindness/worry, but it would be nice if she would just let me coast for awhile and figure things out for myself. But be there for advice when I need it...and help my financially, because, let's face it, VS doesn't do a whole lot for me. Not that any of that is too much to ask, right?? Hmm...
And myself. I've got so many people pulling me in other directions and making me think about the future that that's all I spend my time doing!! Researching mission trips for the summer, study abroad programs, and teaching ESL abroad...but then I do all that research and realize it takes money and I'm right back at square one. Oh, to be born with that silver spoon in my mouth (not that I would ever truly wish for that.)
See? This blog started with me complaining, and I'm right back were I started at the end. Funny how that happens. Welcome to my last 3 months.
Life....
And myself. I've got so many people pulling me in other directions and making me think about the future that that's all I spend my time doing!! Researching mission trips for the summer, study abroad programs, and teaching ESL abroad...but then I do all that research and realize it takes money and I'm right back at square one. Oh, to be born with that silver spoon in my mouth (not that I would ever truly wish for that.)
See? This blog started with me complaining, and I'm right back were I started at the end. Funny how that happens. Welcome to my last 3 months.
Life....
Sunday, January 31, 2010
What About Us?
I have a feeling this post isn't going to make much sense at all, but tonight was the Grammy's Tribute to Michael Jackson and, to be quite honest, the whole experience has left me emotionally drained. I thought I had prepared myself for it, but after seeing it, I was wrong. Actually, I would have been OK if Prince and Paris hadn't made an appearance. As a fan, growing up with MJ we became accustomed to never seeing his children. Which was alright, but as true fans, we understood his reasons for keeping them hidden. Honestly, I refuse to judge Michael for anything he ever did, because who can know what it's like to live his life? So, now that Michael is gone, it's just absolutely shocking to me to see his kids out and about in public and on award's shows. Not only is it shocking to see them, it's shocking not to see Michael. Once again we have to relive the horrible fact that he's not here any longer...and in return his kids are making appearances in the public eye. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying it's a bad thing that Prince and Paris were there. They are growing up far to fast, far faster than Michael would have liked, but that's unavoidable once you've experienced the death of a parent. Soon they will be making decisions on their own and deciding what they want to do with their lives, just as they would have done had Michael been alive. But without him it just seems so horribly wrong. I can just picture them watching him preform those concerts last fall. All he wanted was to perform for his kids....and he never got the chance. I can't imagine being Prince, Paris, and Blanket and living with the "What if Daddy?" question. I did love that their cousins accepted the award with them. Michael loved his family and was close with his nephews. I'm sure he was smiling happily at seeing his wonderful family all together on stage.
The tribute done by the singers was also inspiring. I was so happy that they chose to do a song that really spoke to Michael's message, instead of just his otherworldly talent. We all know he's the greatest entertainer of all time, there was no need to wow everyone with dancing and a medley of his greatest hits. Usher, Smokey Robinson, Carrie Underwood (wasn't happy to see her there...), Celine Dion, and Jennifer Hudson did a phenomenal job of making Michael's message heard. Earth Song says it all. And what so powerful about it was using Michael's own voice, almost like he was there. I kept finding myself looking for him on stage, his voice was there but his body wasn't. I'm sure he was singing right along with the others, just from Heaven.
I still can't decide why this effects me the way it does. There is a purpose. I do believe that Michael was sent here to deliver a message, to be an instrument of God, but I wonder what I am supposed to do with the passion and energy he has given me?
Lionel Richy with Paris, Blanket, and Prince--Grammys 2010
The tribute done by the singers was also inspiring. I was so happy that they chose to do a song that really spoke to Michael's message, instead of just his otherworldly talent. We all know he's the greatest entertainer of all time, there was no need to wow everyone with dancing and a medley of his greatest hits. Usher, Smokey Robinson, Carrie Underwood (wasn't happy to see her there...), Celine Dion, and Jennifer Hudson did a phenomenal job of making Michael's message heard. Earth Song says it all. And what so powerful about it was using Michael's own voice, almost like he was there. I kept finding myself looking for him on stage, his voice was there but his body wasn't. I'm sure he was singing right along with the others, just from Heaven.
I still can't decide why this effects me the way it does. There is a purpose. I do believe that Michael was sent here to deliver a message, to be an instrument of God, but I wonder what I am supposed to do with the passion and energy he has given me?
Lionel Richy with Paris, Blanket, and Prince--Grammys 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Hope for Haiti
Recently all the major cable networks participated in a telethon to benefit the people in Haiti who have been devastated by the recent earthquakes. It was a horrible, yet heart-warming 2 hours. I watched celebrities from all walks of life come together for one evening and join together in love for their fellow man. Actors, actresses, singers, etc. All were there for the event, whether it was to answer the phone or sing for entertainment, they were there, amid stories and pictures from the people of Haiti. Millions were moved to donate to the cause, even if it was just to talk with a celebrity such as Leo DeCaprio, Jennifer Aniston, Steven Spielberg, or Taylor Swift on the phone.
What I soon noticed was people's Facebook status' reflecting their thoughts on the telethon. While I changed my status to hopeful words from Michael Jackson, many other changes theirs to complaints about having nothing to watch on TV, about how horrible our government is for providing all this relief to Haiti when our own country is in need of aid. While, this may be true, we are FAR better off than the people of Haiti. Yes, there are wrongs here that need to be righted. But the same can be said for every country. And when we're helping another group of people so devastatingly broken is NOT the time to bring up our country's small issues. What I wouldn't give to take those cynics and place them in a Haitian hospital with the sick and dying and those trying to save them. I wonder where their hateful words would be then?? But beyond the fact that helping Haiti is our nation's responsibility as one of the main powers of the world, it is also our Christian duty as people of Jesus. As Jesus said:
"Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’
The question of whether you help those people in need is not if we should or shouldn't. It's what would Jesus do.
Cynicism is apathy. Apathy doesn't help anyone. But those who posses it seem to have a hard time realizing that.
If you missed the telethon I strongly suggest going to YouTube and searching for the performances from that night. They were so inspiring and beautiful. Jennifer Hudson's cover of The Beatles "Let it Be" was impressive.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Burn on through
Today, I was chatting with someone, we'll call him/her "X," and the conversation turned to the future and this new person's job, etc. I began talking about my hopes for the future, how I can't decide what I want to do...not because I don't want to, but because I'm so passionate about so many different things and I don't feel like I've been shown a clear path just yet. Anyway, to make a long story short...it boiled down to this person telling me that I needed to make my expectations smaller...pick something and just do it. Settle. And it just hit me wrong. That's precisely what I don't want to do and why I've been feeling so turbulent! I don't want to "settle" for something at age 22 and just do it!!! And I know it works for some people, and that's perfectly fine. But if I'm so terrified of the idea, then I know it can't be right for me. There's something out there...and I'll find it. And I'll be HAPPY.
So I decided to turn to some of my favorite quotes. These words always inspire me and help me believe that anything is possible. I love books and their characters...
“I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.”
-Jack London
"Many that live deserve death. Some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo? Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. Even the very wise cannot see all ends."
-Gandalf - The Fellowship of the Ring
Arthur: Pelagius told me once: "There is no worse death than the end of hope."
Guinevere: You and I are not the polite people that live in poems. We are blessed and cursed by our times.
King Arthur
"There is more treasure in books than in all the pirate's loot on Treasure Island....and best of all, you can enjoy these riches every day of your life."
-Walt Disney
Frodo: I can't do this, Sam.
Sam: I know. It's all wrong. By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.
Frodo: What are we holding onto, Sam?
Sam: That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo... and it's worth fighting for.
-The Two Towers by JRR Tolkien
"It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live."
Albus Dumbledore - Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
So I decided to turn to some of my favorite quotes. These words always inspire me and help me believe that anything is possible. I love books and their characters...
“I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.”
-Jack London
"Many that live deserve death. Some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo? Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. Even the very wise cannot see all ends."
-Gandalf - The Fellowship of the Ring
Arthur: Pelagius told me once: "There is no worse death than the end of hope."
Guinevere: You and I are not the polite people that live in poems. We are blessed and cursed by our times.
King Arthur
"There is more treasure in books than in all the pirate's loot on Treasure Island....and best of all, you can enjoy these riches every day of your life."
-Walt Disney
Frodo: I can't do this, Sam.
Sam: I know. It's all wrong. By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.
Frodo: What are we holding onto, Sam?
Sam: That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo... and it's worth fighting for.
-The Two Towers by JRR Tolkien
"It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live."
Albus Dumbledore - Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Whirlpool
Lately my anxiety level has been so high I can hardly calm myself down enough to sleep at night. Last night, I spent over an hour just listening to my Zune, trying to keep my mind from spinning...It helped, but I wish I could just lay down and sleep. I'd almost rather be battling the Mono from earlier this fall than not sleeping. I hate this CONSTANT feeling of unease. I have this constant feeling that there's something I should be doing, decisions I should be making, action I should be taking.
I'm having so much trouble deciding what my next step, or decision, should be. I feel so "in between." I just want someone to sit down with me and show me my Road Map for Life and let me go. All I want is a plan. I thrive on plans and expectations. Without them I'm so lost. I don't want to be making these decisions all on my own. So many people expect different things from me and, at the moment, I feel like I'm having a hard time listening to what my own expectations are. And I'm really not sure I ever clearly knew what I wanted for myself. You remember those tests they make college freshmen take to see what you might be good at?? I feel like I'm back at square one. Not good when I just finished my second degree.
I hate this feeling of helplessness and being lost. I've always been so sure of myself.....
I'm having so much trouble deciding what my next step, or decision, should be. I feel so "in between." I just want someone to sit down with me and show me my Road Map for Life and let me go. All I want is a plan. I thrive on plans and expectations. Without them I'm so lost. I don't want to be making these decisions all on my own. So many people expect different things from me and, at the moment, I feel like I'm having a hard time listening to what my own expectations are. And I'm really not sure I ever clearly knew what I wanted for myself. You remember those tests they make college freshmen take to see what you might be good at?? I feel like I'm back at square one. Not good when I just finished my second degree.
I hate this feeling of helplessness and being lost. I've always been so sure of myself.....
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Invictus: Unconquered
Greetings blog followers,
It's been September since I wrote. In the last 3 months there's been many instances where I've gone to my blog to write about something that's on my mind....and it never fails that when I get here, I automatically click the little red box in the top, right-hand corner and leave. I like to think that writing is a form of release for me, and when I actually sit down and do it...it is. But too many times I like to torture myself with the pain, hurt, or complete frustration and keep it all inside instead (evidence...the last 3 months). The worst part about this method of "dealing" is that I know that I'm not helping myself, but in some weird way I like the pain of keeping all my hurts inside. There's a word for people like me. Since I don't know that word I'll just settle for the phrase "I have a problem."
Now that's all settled.
I plan on going backwards and covering all the topics that are still brooding on my mind. I know that will be just absolutely thrilling, but hey, what else have I got to talk about? My life is SO interesting.
Tonight I went to see "Invictus." And I won't lie, part of the reason I wanted to see it was because Michael was such a huge fan of Nelson Mandela. I wanted to better understand the history. And of course, the movie doesn't cover it all, so my curiosity is going to have to do some research on its own. The movie was wonderful. Inspiring. The kind of inspiring I wish all people could be affected by. It's movies like these that speak to that part of me that yearns to be great. To be unconquered. Sometimes I think I'm crazy, but true stories like these do help me realize that there are heroes still today. Sometimes I just wonder what I'm doing with my life. Why do I always have this feeling of settling. Why do I always want something greater? Isn't "great" a relative term? Just like "beauty"? Can't what I'm doing now be considered great in my own heart?? Why can't I find that peace? I'm not sure what scale I'm measuring myself on. Something, somewhere...has to give.
INVICTUS
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
2 great people with one world image. PEACE and LOVE for everyone. Why is that such a hard concept?
It's been September since I wrote. In the last 3 months there's been many instances where I've gone to my blog to write about something that's on my mind....and it never fails that when I get here, I automatically click the little red box in the top, right-hand corner and leave. I like to think that writing is a form of release for me, and when I actually sit down and do it...it is. But too many times I like to torture myself with the pain, hurt, or complete frustration and keep it all inside instead (evidence...the last 3 months). The worst part about this method of "dealing" is that I know that I'm not helping myself, but in some weird way I like the pain of keeping all my hurts inside. There's a word for people like me. Since I don't know that word I'll just settle for the phrase "I have a problem."
Now that's all settled.
I plan on going backwards and covering all the topics that are still brooding on my mind. I know that will be just absolutely thrilling, but hey, what else have I got to talk about? My life is SO interesting.
Tonight I went to see "Invictus." And I won't lie, part of the reason I wanted to see it was because Michael was such a huge fan of Nelson Mandela. I wanted to better understand the history. And of course, the movie doesn't cover it all, so my curiosity is going to have to do some research on its own. The movie was wonderful. Inspiring. The kind of inspiring I wish all people could be affected by. It's movies like these that speak to that part of me that yearns to be great. To be unconquered. Sometimes I think I'm crazy, but true stories like these do help me realize that there are heroes still today. Sometimes I just wonder what I'm doing with my life. Why do I always have this feeling of settling. Why do I always want something greater? Isn't "great" a relative term? Just like "beauty"? Can't what I'm doing now be considered great in my own heart?? Why can't I find that peace? I'm not sure what scale I'm measuring myself on. Something, somewhere...has to give.
INVICTUS
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
2 great people with one world image. PEACE and LOVE for everyone. Why is that such a hard concept?
Friday, September 18, 2009
MTV vs. BET
Last weekend, MTV held their annual, controversial VMA ceremony. The beginning of the show was dedicated to Michael. Ok, nothing strange there. The show began with a speech by Madonna. I will admit, I loved the speech. I understand she wasn't the best of friends with Michael, but because of the similar backgrounds and success, it was easy for them to understand each other. I loved what she said. I'm not sure if it was her idea to do it, but she stated things that it seems other people had been too chicken to say all this time. We gave up on Michael when he needed us most. It wasn't he fault. I'll post a link to the speech below.
The speech was followed with a performance by a slew of dancers in Michael era-ish gear, dancing to Thriller, Bad, and Smooth Criminal. Then the highlight of the Tribute. Janet actually preformed to a recording of Scream, with Michael dancing on the screen in the back. Very touching and I'm sure it was supremely difficult for Janet to do the performance. Her and Michael had never actually preformed the song together while he was alive.
At the end of her performance, the host for the night asked the audience to remember Michael for the evening and keep his sense of loving one another in their hearts. If you watched the show, you know how long that lasted....
Now, on to BET. 3, count them, 3 days after Michael died BET held their award show for the summer. In those 3 days they completely revamped the entire show. When it aired LIVE the show completely revolved around the King of Pop. Celebrities wore Michael inspired fashion and all performances were Michael based. It was a night to completely celebrate the man who re-shaped the music world.
I understand that BET is BLACK Entertainment Television, and that Michael and the TV network both identify with black audiences, so naturally they would want to celebrate such an influential man, right? Ok, here's my squabble with the whole situation: Michael MADE MTV! He absolutely revamped the TV station as a 20-something year old young man. Through MTV he introduced music videos to the world. MTV would NOT be around today without the success they received in their early years due to MJ success!!! So....why was MTV's tribute so lousy compared to BETs? That is the question of the hour. In recent years, MTV was on of the people that Madonna mentioned in her speech, possibly one of the biggest contributors. They GAVE UP on Michael in the later years of his career. There were times when they even condemned him, which they had no right to do. It seemed the late 90s and early 00s MTV forgot who made them popular and decided to put out the vibe that he was all the sudden uncool. Thanks, MTV, thanks so much!!!!! Your tribute means so much! If it were possible to flip MTV off I would do it. Their bigger goal was to cash in on Michael's death, and it was lame. The only reason I'll still show some love is because I know it took courage for Janet to do what she did. I bet she would have done it for BET before MTV though...if only BETs award show wouldn't have been so soon after his death.
So in conclusion: MTV never loved Michael. F*** you, MTV. Wonder where you'd be without him???
Here's Madonna's Speech:
Madonna Pays Tribute to Michael Jackson: "The all-star entertainer shares some poignant memories about Michael Jackson, and introduces a special performance tribute to the King of Pop. (2009 MTV Video Music Awards)"
Janet's Tribute to her brother. Thank you, Janet. Your courage and love is all too apparent. We love you.
Michael Jackson Tribute: "The spectacular opening of the 2009 MTV Video Music Awards pays tribute to legendary entertainment icon Michael Jackson with a special appearance by his sister, Janet Jackson. (2009 MTV Video Music Awards)"
The speech was followed with a performance by a slew of dancers in Michael era-ish gear, dancing to Thriller, Bad, and Smooth Criminal. Then the highlight of the Tribute. Janet actually preformed to a recording of Scream, with Michael dancing on the screen in the back. Very touching and I'm sure it was supremely difficult for Janet to do the performance. Her and Michael had never actually preformed the song together while he was alive.
At the end of her performance, the host for the night asked the audience to remember Michael for the evening and keep his sense of loving one another in their hearts. If you watched the show, you know how long that lasted....
Now, on to BET. 3, count them, 3 days after Michael died BET held their award show for the summer. In those 3 days they completely revamped the entire show. When it aired LIVE the show completely revolved around the King of Pop. Celebrities wore Michael inspired fashion and all performances were Michael based. It was a night to completely celebrate the man who re-shaped the music world.
I understand that BET is BLACK Entertainment Television, and that Michael and the TV network both identify with black audiences, so naturally they would want to celebrate such an influential man, right? Ok, here's my squabble with the whole situation: Michael MADE MTV! He absolutely revamped the TV station as a 20-something year old young man. Through MTV he introduced music videos to the world. MTV would NOT be around today without the success they received in their early years due to MJ success!!! So....why was MTV's tribute so lousy compared to BETs? That is the question of the hour. In recent years, MTV was on of the people that Madonna mentioned in her speech, possibly one of the biggest contributors. They GAVE UP on Michael in the later years of his career. There were times when they even condemned him, which they had no right to do. It seemed the late 90s and early 00s MTV forgot who made them popular and decided to put out the vibe that he was all the sudden uncool. Thanks, MTV, thanks so much!!!!! Your tribute means so much! If it were possible to flip MTV off I would do it. Their bigger goal was to cash in on Michael's death, and it was lame. The only reason I'll still show some love is because I know it took courage for Janet to do what she did. I bet she would have done it for BET before MTV though...if only BETs award show wouldn't have been so soon after his death.
So in conclusion: MTV never loved Michael. F*** you, MTV. Wonder where you'd be without him???
Here's Madonna's Speech:
Madonna Pays Tribute to Michael Jackson: "The all-star entertainer shares some poignant memories about Michael Jackson, and introduces a special performance tribute to the King of Pop. (2009 MTV Video Music Awards)"
Janet's Tribute to her brother. Thank you, Janet. Your courage and love is all too apparent. We love you.
Michael Jackson Tribute: "The spectacular opening of the 2009 MTV Video Music Awards pays tribute to legendary entertainment icon Michael Jackson with a special appearance by his sister, Janet Jackson. (2009 MTV Video Music Awards)"
Monday, August 31, 2009
Happy Birthday, Michael
August 29th has come and gone and Michael would have been 51. I remember last year, on his 50th birthday, talking to Mom about how I just couldn't believe that my Michael was actually 50. To me, he seemed like someone who would never reach that pivotal age; this transcendent, magical human being that would always be with the fans who loved him most. Now, on his 51st birthday, it's so surreal to know that his human life has ended, even though his heart lives on. Even though I had never met this man, I had always hoped to. And the influence his life had on my life is so great that now that he's gone, it just makes me want to continue to strive to heal the world in any small way, starting with the man in the mirror.
On Saturday BET played non-stop Michael documentaries, some of which I had seen before, others I had not. On one particular episode celebrities that had worked with Michael, were friends with him, etc, were interviewed. One person's comments in particular touched me deeply, maybe because I was feeling something of the same thing. Fonzworth Bentley from Outkast had been touched by Michael, just like so many millions of people around the world. He last comments about Michael were something to the effect of: "When Michael went to Heaven, he made a deal with God. If he was gonna have to leave Earth, and everyone he loved, then could God grant him one thing? Since Michael could no longer share his gift with the world, could God send a piece of Michael into each of his songs, this way his fans would always have a part of Michael to enjoy. And God granted him that wish."
While that's not exactly how Fonzworth stated his sentiment, I hope you can understand the deep meaning behind the thought. It's hard for me to articulate to someone else how deeply these words effected me, or how truly I believe them. The love and support for Michael these past few months is heartwarming and I firmly believe he is smiling, blushing, and speechless over all the attention.
May your birthday in Heaven be glorious and may the heavenly choirs make way for the most glorious angel of all. Happy Birthday, Michael. Thank you for the inspiration you have given me and millions like me all over the world.
On Saturday BET played non-stop Michael documentaries, some of which I had seen before, others I had not. On one particular episode celebrities that had worked with Michael, were friends with him, etc, were interviewed. One person's comments in particular touched me deeply, maybe because I was feeling something of the same thing. Fonzworth Bentley from Outkast had been touched by Michael, just like so many millions of people around the world. He last comments about Michael were something to the effect of: "When Michael went to Heaven, he made a deal with God. If he was gonna have to leave Earth, and everyone he loved, then could God grant him one thing? Since Michael could no longer share his gift with the world, could God send a piece of Michael into each of his songs, this way his fans would always have a part of Michael to enjoy. And God granted him that wish."
While that's not exactly how Fonzworth stated his sentiment, I hope you can understand the deep meaning behind the thought. It's hard for me to articulate to someone else how deeply these words effected me, or how truly I believe them. The love and support for Michael these past few months is heartwarming and I firmly believe he is smiling, blushing, and speechless over all the attention.
May your birthday in Heaven be glorious and may the heavenly choirs make way for the most glorious angel of all. Happy Birthday, Michael. Thank you for the inspiration you have given me and millions like me all over the world.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Fearless
August 9th my three cousins, Tammie, Kaycee, Chelsey, and I journeyed to Omaha, Nebraska, to see Taylor Swift in concert. Now, let me first say that I've always sort of had a "girl crush" on Taylor, ever since her first album. She's an amazing individual, but I would have to say she's become even more amazing with her second album and how much she's grown. Not only has she grown as a artist, but her message to the fans has become stronger as well. Ever since her second album came out, titled "Fearless" I have been in love with the title track. At the beginning of her Fearless concert, Taylor put together a video montage of different people, including her, voicing their ideas of what Fearless means (which was AWESOME!!) From the CD, this is what Fearless means to Taylor Swift:
To me, “FEARLESS” is not the absence of fear. It’s not being completely unafraid.
To me, FEARLESS is having fears.
FEARLESS is having doubts. Lots of them.
To me, FEARLESS is living in spite of those things that scare you to death.
FEARLESS is falling madly in love again, even though you’ve been hurt before.
FEARLESS is walking into your freshmen year of high school at fifteen.
FEARLESS is getting back up and fighting for what you want over and over again… even though every time you’ve tried before, you’ve lost.
It’s FEARLESS to have faith that someday things will change.
FEARLESS is having the courage to say goodbye to someone who only hurts you, even if you can’t breathe without them.
I think it’s FEARLESS to fall for your best friend, even though he’s in love with someone else.
And when someone apologizes to you enough times for things they’ll never stop doing, I think it’s FEARLESS to stop believing them.
It’s FEARLESS to say “you’re NOT sorry”, and walk away.
I think loving someone despite what people think is FEARLESS.
I think allowing yourself to cry on the bathroom floor is FEARLESS.
Letting go is FEARLESS.
Then, moving on and being alright…That’s FEARLESS too.
But no matter what love throws at you, you have to believe in it. You have to believe in love stories and Prince Charmings and happily ever after. That’s why I write these songs. Because I think love is FEARLESS.
Here's what FEARLESS means to me:
FEARLESS is believing in love, always, everyday. No matter how hard it is or how much it hurts.
FEARLESS is staying true to your core set of beliefs, when so many times it would be easier to make up easier beliefs as you go….
FEARLESS is loving Michael Jackson for the man he was and the inspiration he has been in my life, even though many people choose not to understand that love.
FEARLESS is not judging others, but taking the time to know them.
FEARLESS is not planning a future even though society screams, “Get a job, get married, have kids!!!”, but instead following your heart, one unpredictable step at a time.
FEARLESS is trusting that God knows what He’s doing. He took enough time to make you, there was obviously a reason, and eventually you’ll find your own beautiful place in this world.
FEARLESS is striving to make friends by yourself, instead of letting them find you.
FEARLESS is believing in LIFE, believing in LOVE, and believing in YOURSElF.
To me, “FEARLESS” is not the absence of fear. It’s not being completely unafraid.
To me, FEARLESS is having fears.
FEARLESS is having doubts. Lots of them.
To me, FEARLESS is living in spite of those things that scare you to death.
FEARLESS is falling madly in love again, even though you’ve been hurt before.
FEARLESS is walking into your freshmen year of high school at fifteen.
FEARLESS is getting back up and fighting for what you want over and over again… even though every time you’ve tried before, you’ve lost.
It’s FEARLESS to have faith that someday things will change.
FEARLESS is having the courage to say goodbye to someone who only hurts you, even if you can’t breathe without them.
I think it’s FEARLESS to fall for your best friend, even though he’s in love with someone else.
And when someone apologizes to you enough times for things they’ll never stop doing, I think it’s FEARLESS to stop believing them.
It’s FEARLESS to say “you’re NOT sorry”, and walk away.
I think loving someone despite what people think is FEARLESS.
I think allowing yourself to cry on the bathroom floor is FEARLESS.
Letting go is FEARLESS.
Then, moving on and being alright…That’s FEARLESS too.
But no matter what love throws at you, you have to believe in it. You have to believe in love stories and Prince Charmings and happily ever after. That’s why I write these songs. Because I think love is FEARLESS.
Here's what FEARLESS means to me:
FEARLESS is believing in love, always, everyday. No matter how hard it is or how much it hurts.
FEARLESS is staying true to your core set of beliefs, when so many times it would be easier to make up easier beliefs as you go….
FEARLESS is loving Michael Jackson for the man he was and the inspiration he has been in my life, even though many people choose not to understand that love.
FEARLESS is not judging others, but taking the time to know them.
FEARLESS is not planning a future even though society screams, “Get a job, get married, have kids!!!”, but instead following your heart, one unpredictable step at a time.
FEARLESS is trusting that God knows what He’s doing. He took enough time to make you, there was obviously a reason, and eventually you’ll find your own beautiful place in this world.
FEARLESS is striving to make friends by yourself, instead of letting them find you.
FEARLESS is believing in LIFE, believing in LOVE, and believing in YOURSElF.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Countdown is on...
Today is July 29th, only 2 more days until August, which means it's almost time for me to officially be in Norman, OK. I can't even describe how excited I am that soon I will be starting out on my own. Even though I've already completed college I was so close to home, and spent so much time there, it really feels like this is the first time I'm doing something for me, for Meredith. And it couldn't have come at a better time in my life. I love my friends, but I'm ready to make new ones. I love my home, but I'm ready to fine a new home. It's time to find out who I am and what I'm supposed to be doing.
This month has been much more exciting, and bearable, than June! 2 weeks ago I spent a weekend in Dallas with my Aunts and saw Aerosmith. Check another item off my Life's "To Do" List! It was amazing, just like I'd always imagined. Oh, and I'm seeing Taylor Swift with my little cousins in August!!
I also finally got my PLT and English content test out of the way. Only four weeks until I get my results. I sure hope I pass...it was one of the most awful days of my life. I took the test the same day as the Shrine Bowl and never thought I was going to get out of the testing center. Friday night I had driven to Wichita for the Shrine Bowl Banquet, then drove back to LaCrosse that night, Saturday morning I was in Hays from 7:30-1:30 for testing, then drove back to Wichita for the game, then Sunday morning it was back to Hays for another appointment...but enough about me...
The Shrine Bowl was awesome. As ready as I am to move on to the future, it was so comforting to have everyone gather once more to watch Marshall play high school football. I felt that wonderful sense of family and love that I felt every Friday night we gathered to support our Leopard. And the amazing part of the whole experience is, it's not just Marshall we're there to support. It's each other. Marshall, and the person he is and has become, gives our entire family a reason to join together and remember how much we love each other and how exceedingly important our family unit is to our day to day survival.
How grateful I am to be a part of such a beautiful family:
This month has been much more exciting, and bearable, than June! 2 weeks ago I spent a weekend in Dallas with my Aunts and saw Aerosmith. Check another item off my Life's "To Do" List! It was amazing, just like I'd always imagined. Oh, and I'm seeing Taylor Swift with my little cousins in August!!
I also finally got my PLT and English content test out of the way. Only four weeks until I get my results. I sure hope I pass...it was one of the most awful days of my life. I took the test the same day as the Shrine Bowl and never thought I was going to get out of the testing center. Friday night I had driven to Wichita for the Shrine Bowl Banquet, then drove back to LaCrosse that night, Saturday morning I was in Hays from 7:30-1:30 for testing, then drove back to Wichita for the game, then Sunday morning it was back to Hays for another appointment...but enough about me...
The Shrine Bowl was awesome. As ready as I am to move on to the future, it was so comforting to have everyone gather once more to watch Marshall play high school football. I felt that wonderful sense of family and love that I felt every Friday night we gathered to support our Leopard. And the amazing part of the whole experience is, it's not just Marshall we're there to support. It's each other. Marshall, and the person he is and has become, gives our entire family a reason to join together and remember how much we love each other and how exceedingly important our family unit is to our day to day survival.
How grateful I am to be a part of such a beautiful family:
Thursday, July 23, 2009
HP6 Review
Ok, so it's been awhile since my last post, but this one will totally make up for it! This is much longer than a blog post should be...but deal with it ;)
I officially feel like I can give a good explanation of how I felt about Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince after seeing it twice. I went to the midnight premier, of course, but it was horrible. I hate when other people feel they have to ruin a film for everyone else that has paid good money to see it. The second time was much better and I was able to concentrate on the parts I knew were coming and really critique each area.
So in no order whatsoever, here are so of my likes, dislikes, and yeah-whatevers.
Dislikes:
Beginning: I had no idea what movie I was even watching when the film started (Ok, after the Death Eater scene…which I’ll get to later.) Harry wasn’t supposed to be in a subway! Checking out a Muggle girl…I was confused…and I didn’t like it either. I also didn’t like Dumbledore’s appearance. This beginning lost so much, as opposed to the one in the book. I really wanted to see Petunia, Dudley, and Vernon. They’re so incredibly pathetic. And Dumbledore is so…Dumbledore in those scenes. This beginning, with the few lines from the book thrown in, just seemed too contrived.
Gaunt Family: (or complete lack thereof…) Where did these important characters go!?!?! I completely and utterly missed these memories from the Pensieve in this film. AND I feel that they are completely necessary to understanding Voledmort as a person, which is Dumbledore’s whole, entire point in this book. SO frustrating. Without Merope and her little love affair with Tom Riddle Sr. and all that good stuff I feel like we’re missing a big part of Voldemort the person.
Memories: Where did they go? They’re missing just like the Guant family….The memories in the Pensive were they core of this book, that and their meaning to Voldemort, Dumbledore, and Harry. One of the main scenes I think they left out was when Tom goes to see Hepizbah and she shows him her trinkets of Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Without that scene it’s hard to really understand how concentrated Voldemort is on objects of great importance.
Burning of the Burrow: Where was that in the book? And why put it into the movie if all you’re going to do is show the burning, and then completely ignore what happens to the family afterwards.
Death Scene: I had MULTIPLE problems with this. This was the scene I was so apprehensive about and it just made me mad....Ok, for one: Dumbledore making Harry promise to obey him would NOT have stopped the Harry I know from defending the man he thinks of as a father. This was ridiculous and I DO NOT buy into the theory that Harry was showing loyalty to Dumbledore. Harry would have done something...so just stupify him and make him invisible like he was in the book and get it over with. Also, what was the point of having the Death Eaters there if we NEVER saw the Order of the Phoenix. I hated that too....it didn't flow from the 5th movie with no OofP. I just felt like the end was anticlimactic...and I could go on for days, but I won't.
Likes:
Harry, Ron, Hermione: All 3 = GREAT CHEMISTRY!!! I guess that’s what we get after having them work together for so many years. I just can’t say enough how much I loved their interactions. So natural.
Luna: What’s not to love about Luna. I wasn’t even upset that they put her in in places she wasn’t supposed to be….because she’s so darn cute and loveable. And silvery Christmas tree dress = complete WIN! So Luna. The only thing I wanted more from her was to hear to commentary during the Quidditch match…that would have been a double win.
Draco: I really loved Draco’s darkness. The movie added to Draco for me, instead of subtracting. Tom Felton did an amazing job portraying what Draco must have been feeling. The only “dislike” I have here is Draco brandishing the Dark Mark at the end. Never happened….and NO reason for it to happen. Defeats the purpose of Narcissa’s worry.
Bellatrix Lestrange: OMG SHE IS AMAZING! I don’t even care that she’s a bad witch. I want to be her. So bad. Nuff said.
But my friend, Audree, mentioned the changing of Narcissa’s hair…and I agree, bad choice. I think if they would have left it the way Rowling intended it would have emphasized more the juxtaposition between Bellatrix and Cissy…
Dumbledore: His character was so perfect in this film. It’s amazing to me how he can say everything with the same tone of voice, yet you know right away if he’s serious or light-hearted. And did anyone else get the feeling the falling-over-the-wall death scene was something akin to Gandalf on Saurmon's tower in the TT??
Harry on Felix. He should be “high” on luck more often!!!
Slughorn, “Harry!!”
Harry, “Sirr???
Bhahahah! Makes me laugh all over again.
Yeah-Whatevers:
Bill and Phlegm: This could have been great, but instead they took it out. After seeing how Fluer was presented in the 4th movie, I was really interested to see Fluer as Phelgm. Would have been hilarious. Plus, I think it would have developed Ginny more outside of her relationship with Harry.
Inferi: Looked like an army of Gollums. And Gollum gave me nightmares the first couple times I watched LotR. No lie.
Also would have liked to see more of the other classmates. What happened to Neville! Missed him and his toad…
Some people hated the ending-with just Harry, Ron, and Hermione standing around, but I really thought it was a great way to set up the 7th movies. Except I couldn't figure out why Ron was hanging back. That bugged me...he's just as much a part of Harry as Hermione. That was so...strange.
I probably left some stuff out. I’ve worked on this many times…stopping and starting depending on when I actually had time to sit down and think. Oh well…at least you’ll get an idea of what I thought!
I officially feel like I can give a good explanation of how I felt about Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince after seeing it twice. I went to the midnight premier, of course, but it was horrible. I hate when other people feel they have to ruin a film for everyone else that has paid good money to see it. The second time was much better and I was able to concentrate on the parts I knew were coming and really critique each area.
So in no order whatsoever, here are so of my likes, dislikes, and yeah-whatevers.
Dislikes:
Beginning: I had no idea what movie I was even watching when the film started (Ok, after the Death Eater scene…which I’ll get to later.) Harry wasn’t supposed to be in a subway! Checking out a Muggle girl…I was confused…and I didn’t like it either. I also didn’t like Dumbledore’s appearance. This beginning lost so much, as opposed to the one in the book. I really wanted to see Petunia, Dudley, and Vernon. They’re so incredibly pathetic. And Dumbledore is so…Dumbledore in those scenes. This beginning, with the few lines from the book thrown in, just seemed too contrived.
Gaunt Family: (or complete lack thereof…) Where did these important characters go!?!?! I completely and utterly missed these memories from the Pensieve in this film. AND I feel that they are completely necessary to understanding Voledmort as a person, which is Dumbledore’s whole, entire point in this book. SO frustrating. Without Merope and her little love affair with Tom Riddle Sr. and all that good stuff I feel like we’re missing a big part of Voldemort the person.
Memories: Where did they go? They’re missing just like the Guant family….The memories in the Pensive were they core of this book, that and their meaning to Voldemort, Dumbledore, and Harry. One of the main scenes I think they left out was when Tom goes to see Hepizbah and she shows him her trinkets of Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Without that scene it’s hard to really understand how concentrated Voldemort is on objects of great importance.
Burning of the Burrow: Where was that in the book? And why put it into the movie if all you’re going to do is show the burning, and then completely ignore what happens to the family afterwards.
Death Scene: I had MULTIPLE problems with this. This was the scene I was so apprehensive about and it just made me mad....Ok, for one: Dumbledore making Harry promise to obey him would NOT have stopped the Harry I know from defending the man he thinks of as a father. This was ridiculous and I DO NOT buy into the theory that Harry was showing loyalty to Dumbledore. Harry would have done something...so just stupify him and make him invisible like he was in the book and get it over with. Also, what was the point of having the Death Eaters there if we NEVER saw the Order of the Phoenix. I hated that too....it didn't flow from the 5th movie with no OofP. I just felt like the end was anticlimactic...and I could go on for days, but I won't.
Likes:
Harry, Ron, Hermione: All 3 = GREAT CHEMISTRY!!! I guess that’s what we get after having them work together for so many years. I just can’t say enough how much I loved their interactions. So natural.
Luna: What’s not to love about Luna. I wasn’t even upset that they put her in in places she wasn’t supposed to be….because she’s so darn cute and loveable. And silvery Christmas tree dress = complete WIN! So Luna. The only thing I wanted more from her was to hear to commentary during the Quidditch match…that would have been a double win.
Draco: I really loved Draco’s darkness. The movie added to Draco for me, instead of subtracting. Tom Felton did an amazing job portraying what Draco must have been feeling. The only “dislike” I have here is Draco brandishing the Dark Mark at the end. Never happened….and NO reason for it to happen. Defeats the purpose of Narcissa’s worry.
Bellatrix Lestrange: OMG SHE IS AMAZING! I don’t even care that she’s a bad witch. I want to be her. So bad. Nuff said.
But my friend, Audree, mentioned the changing of Narcissa’s hair…and I agree, bad choice. I think if they would have left it the way Rowling intended it would have emphasized more the juxtaposition between Bellatrix and Cissy…
Dumbledore: His character was so perfect in this film. It’s amazing to me how he can say everything with the same tone of voice, yet you know right away if he’s serious or light-hearted. And did anyone else get the feeling the falling-over-the-wall death scene was something akin to Gandalf on Saurmon's tower in the TT??
Harry on Felix. He should be “high” on luck more often!!!
Slughorn, “Harry!!”
Harry, “Sirr???
Bhahahah! Makes me laugh all over again.
Yeah-Whatevers:
Bill and Phlegm: This could have been great, but instead they took it out. After seeing how Fluer was presented in the 4th movie, I was really interested to see Fluer as Phelgm. Would have been hilarious. Plus, I think it would have developed Ginny more outside of her relationship with Harry.
Inferi: Looked like an army of Gollums. And Gollum gave me nightmares the first couple times I watched LotR. No lie.
Also would have liked to see more of the other classmates. What happened to Neville! Missed him and his toad…
Some people hated the ending-with just Harry, Ron, and Hermione standing around, but I really thought it was a great way to set up the 7th movies. Except I couldn't figure out why Ron was hanging back. That bugged me...he's just as much a part of Harry as Hermione. That was so...strange.
I probably left some stuff out. I’ve worked on this many times…stopping and starting depending on when I actually had time to sit down and think. Oh well…at least you’ll get an idea of what I thought!
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
The Memorial
Michael's Memorial was today and I'm not sure I've cried that much in such a short amount of time for quite awhile. I've passed the stage of feeling strange for crying for this man whom I would consider one of my best friends, though we never met. For me, he was a part of my life that will never be replaced, so I have every right to mourn.
The Memorial was beautiful and my heart was just swollen with joy at the outpouring of love and support around the world for this man. But the thing that surprised me the most was afterwards everyone kept saying that the memorial "humanized" Michael. What do you mean "humanized?" Michael has always been human, just like you and me...obviously not in the same way that a regular blue-collar adult is human, but human just the same. He lived, breathed, created, and loved just like anyone else. His heart beat and his lips smiled just as any other "human." Maybe he was too human for everyone. He was extra-human, while everyone else is just human/superhuman.
There were many amazing moments of the Memorial, but here are a few. I will later add Jermaine's version of "Smile" and Jennifer Hudson's version of "Will You Be There."
Here is Brook Shields speaking of her dear friend, Michael. Her words are absolutely gorgeous and the quotes she chooses fit the Michael I know and love perfectly. It's long, but you won't be sorry.
And here's the tear-jerker of the day. Little Paris, whom the public knows almost nothing, was brave enough to finally speak to the world. What courage and strength shown from such a little girl.
When Michael died, my first feeling was complete and utter emptiness, but then my thoughts went to his kids. Paris and Prince are both around the same age I was when my dad passed. At first I was like, "Wow, I can so relate to Paris. Losing her Dad at such a young age..."
Then I thought about it more....actually I can't. All she had was Michael. Both Mom and Dad he was to those children. And embraced that role with his whole heart and being. So no, I can't relate to Paris. I only lost one of the pair of the unit that raised me. She lost everything. And not only was it her father, her father happened to be the most loved icon in the history of the world. She had had to share him her entire life.
Today when she gave her impromptu speech I did feel close to her....she is a child, in pain, merely loving the parent she lost. I know that pain. All too well.
As Brooke said: "Michael saw everything with his heart. Today, although our hearts are aching, we need to look up where he is undoubtedly perched in a crescent moon, and we need to smile."
Just Smile
RIP MICHAEL
The Memorial was beautiful and my heart was just swollen with joy at the outpouring of love and support around the world for this man. But the thing that surprised me the most was afterwards everyone kept saying that the memorial "humanized" Michael. What do you mean "humanized?" Michael has always been human, just like you and me...obviously not in the same way that a regular blue-collar adult is human, but human just the same. He lived, breathed, created, and loved just like anyone else. His heart beat and his lips smiled just as any other "human." Maybe he was too human for everyone. He was extra-human, while everyone else is just human/superhuman.
There were many amazing moments of the Memorial, but here are a few. I will later add Jermaine's version of "Smile" and Jennifer Hudson's version of "Will You Be There."
Here is Brook Shields speaking of her dear friend, Michael. Her words are absolutely gorgeous and the quotes she chooses fit the Michael I know and love perfectly. It's long, but you won't be sorry.
And here's the tear-jerker of the day. Little Paris, whom the public knows almost nothing, was brave enough to finally speak to the world. What courage and strength shown from such a little girl.
When Michael died, my first feeling was complete and utter emptiness, but then my thoughts went to his kids. Paris and Prince are both around the same age I was when my dad passed. At first I was like, "Wow, I can so relate to Paris. Losing her Dad at such a young age..."
Then I thought about it more....actually I can't. All she had was Michael. Both Mom and Dad he was to those children. And embraced that role with his whole heart and being. So no, I can't relate to Paris. I only lost one of the pair of the unit that raised me. She lost everything. And not only was it her father, her father happened to be the most loved icon in the history of the world. She had had to share him her entire life.
Today when she gave her impromptu speech I did feel close to her....she is a child, in pain, merely loving the parent she lost. I know that pain. All too well.
As Brooke said: "Michael saw everything with his heart. Today, although our hearts are aching, we need to look up where he is undoubtedly perched in a crescent moon, and we need to smile."
Just Smile
RIP MICHAEL
Thursday, July 2, 2009
This Is It
A video was just released today of Michael preforming a dress rehearsal of This Is It 48 hours before his death.
And now there will be a Memorial Service for him in the exact same arena where he was preforming.
Kinda hard to wrap your mind around. It just blows me away. All reports from Michael supporters..and now from others...is that Michael was on the verge of making the greatest comeback in HIStory. IN HISTORY!! I 100% believe it. And this video proves it.
Lou Ferrigno, Michael's trainer for the Bad Tour and now the This Is It tour, teared up talking about the death of his friend...barely saying "I'm gonna miss him..."
Jermaine Jackson, his brother, "I wish it were me..." Strong words, even for a protective older brother.
Blanket's godfather, Al Malnik, with whom Michael and his children spent extended periods of time, talked only of Michael's love for his children, humility, and deep sensitivity for every human life.
Larry King was blown away by the magic of Neverland. He was almost speechless during parts of his live show at the Ranch, which is saying a lot for Larry. Michael's magic has touched Larry too.
Watch Michael's last rehearsal. Ever. See how amazing he was, follow the flow of his movements, see the joy as he moves. He's 50 and loving being on stage. GENIUS !!!
RIP MICHAEL
And now there will be a Memorial Service for him in the exact same arena where he was preforming.
Kinda hard to wrap your mind around. It just blows me away. All reports from Michael supporters..and now from others...is that Michael was on the verge of making the greatest comeback in HIStory. IN HISTORY!! I 100% believe it. And this video proves it.
Lou Ferrigno, Michael's trainer for the Bad Tour and now the This Is It tour, teared up talking about the death of his friend...barely saying "I'm gonna miss him..."
Jermaine Jackson, his brother, "I wish it were me..." Strong words, even for a protective older brother.
Blanket's godfather, Al Malnik, with whom Michael and his children spent extended periods of time, talked only of Michael's love for his children, humility, and deep sensitivity for every human life.
Larry King was blown away by the magic of Neverland. He was almost speechless during parts of his live show at the Ranch, which is saying a lot for Larry. Michael's magic has touched Larry too.
Watch Michael's last rehearsal. Ever. See how amazing he was, follow the flow of his movements, see the joy as he moves. He's 50 and loving being on stage. GENIUS !!!
RIP MICHAEL
Monday, June 29, 2009
"Better on the Other Side"
Tribute to Michael Jackson
by The Game, Diddy, Usher, Chris Brown, Lil Wayne, and Boyz II Men
LYRICS
[Diddy talking]
I remember the first time I seen you moonwalk,
I believed I could do anything,
you made the world dance,
you made the music come to life
[Chris brown - Chorus]
This the type of song that make the angels cry,
I look up in the sky and I wonder why?
why you had to go, go
I know its better on the other side,
you were chosen from the start
never gon' let you go,
[The Game]
Who's Michael Jackson,
Your Michael Jackson,
I'm Michael Jackson,
We all Michael Jackson,
I guess what I'm asking is everybody bow their head for a legend don't breathe for a second,
now let the air out, grab the hand of somebody you care about,
so you can hear my message, my confession,
someone tell Usher, I seen the moonwalk, I guess the young thriller touched him, like he touched me, like he touched you,
so carry on his legacy, something i must do, so i trust you lighting candles, concrete visuals, me and my brothers listen to Jackson 5 in the living room,
first thing i did when i heard was call puff,
cos him and Mike tried to stop the beef between us,
who was us? Me and fifty, that beef is dead, him and Mike Jackson gonna take us to the ledge.
[Chorus]
As I'm pouring out this liquor candles start to flicker,
when list (?) my air ones, MJ was my nier.
Not the one that play ball, the one with the Hollywood star,
and since I'm a Hollywood star imma tell you my story,
[Courtesy of KillerHipHop.com]
never had a family that close, never see Barry Gordy walking through interscope,
just like me they always had Mike in a scope,
no matter what you say,
imma love him and hes still dope,
let me take you back to 85 when i was in a zone, dancing for my momma thriller jacket with all the zippers on,
now I'm doing 90 bout to crash in this Aston,
listening to Outcast, I'm sorry Mrs Jackson
anything I can ever do to better you your son was our king so we won't Corretta you,
I'm writing this letter to all the Jackson kids, we all Jackson kids, time to let us through.
[Chorus]
[Boys II Men]
This the kind of song that make the angels cry,
look up in the sky and ask God, why o why why
Do we live and let die
This the kind of song that make the angels cry,
look up in the sky and ask God, why o why why
Do we live and let, live and let die.
____________________________________________________________________________________
The first time I heard this song it brought tears to my eyes. Had I been alone I probably would have broken down again. It still amazes me that the death of this man has effected me so deeply. I knew that him and his music were large parts of my life, but to have him gone so unexpectedly just leaves this strange void. He was the one I kept tabs on, always checking my Michael websites just to make sure he was doing fine. Especially now that the London concerts were getting closer. It had been so great to see news on him that wasn't negative. His death makes me wish even more that I had been born in the wrong era, I was meant to live my teens and twenties in the 80's.
Is it healthy to be this connected to a world icon? I don't think there's an answer to that question. Mainly because it is up to those of us who are true fans to take everything that Michael loved and accomplished in his life and make certain that it lives on, despite the death of the creator.
There have been so many things friends of Michael have said, articles that have been written, and videos that have been posted. I would love to share it all here, but there's no way to do so. I could spend days holed up in my room going through Michael things on the internet. Too bad I don't have time to savor this moment in HIStory.
RIP MICHAEL JACKSON
by The Game, Diddy, Usher, Chris Brown, Lil Wayne, and Boyz II Men
LYRICS
[Diddy talking]
I remember the first time I seen you moonwalk,
I believed I could do anything,
you made the world dance,
you made the music come to life
[Chris brown - Chorus]
This the type of song that make the angels cry,
I look up in the sky and I wonder why?
why you had to go, go
I know its better on the other side,
you were chosen from the start
never gon' let you go,
[The Game]
Who's Michael Jackson,
Your Michael Jackson,
I'm Michael Jackson,
We all Michael Jackson,
I guess what I'm asking is everybody bow their head for a legend don't breathe for a second,
now let the air out, grab the hand of somebody you care about,
so you can hear my message, my confession,
someone tell Usher, I seen the moonwalk, I guess the young thriller touched him, like he touched me, like he touched you,
so carry on his legacy, something i must do, so i trust you lighting candles, concrete visuals, me and my brothers listen to Jackson 5 in the living room,
first thing i did when i heard was call puff,
cos him and Mike tried to stop the beef between us,
who was us? Me and fifty, that beef is dead, him and Mike Jackson gonna take us to the ledge.
[Chorus]
As I'm pouring out this liquor candles start to flicker,
when list (?) my air ones, MJ was my nier.
Not the one that play ball, the one with the Hollywood star,
and since I'm a Hollywood star imma tell you my story,
[Courtesy of KillerHipHop.com]
never had a family that close, never see Barry Gordy walking through interscope,
just like me they always had Mike in a scope,
no matter what you say,
imma love him and hes still dope,
let me take you back to 85 when i was in a zone, dancing for my momma thriller jacket with all the zippers on,
now I'm doing 90 bout to crash in this Aston,
listening to Outcast, I'm sorry Mrs Jackson
anything I can ever do to better you your son was our king so we won't Corretta you,
I'm writing this letter to all the Jackson kids, we all Jackson kids, time to let us through.
[Chorus]
[Boys II Men]
This the kind of song that make the angels cry,
look up in the sky and ask God, why o why why
Do we live and let die
This the kind of song that make the angels cry,
look up in the sky and ask God, why o why why
Do we live and let, live and let die.
____________________________________________________________________________________
The first time I heard this song it brought tears to my eyes. Had I been alone I probably would have broken down again. It still amazes me that the death of this man has effected me so deeply. I knew that him and his music were large parts of my life, but to have him gone so unexpectedly just leaves this strange void. He was the one I kept tabs on, always checking my Michael websites just to make sure he was doing fine. Especially now that the London concerts were getting closer. It had been so great to see news on him that wasn't negative. His death makes me wish even more that I had been born in the wrong era, I was meant to live my teens and twenties in the 80's.
Is it healthy to be this connected to a world icon? I don't think there's an answer to that question. Mainly because it is up to those of us who are true fans to take everything that Michael loved and accomplished in his life and make certain that it lives on, despite the death of the creator.
There have been so many things friends of Michael have said, articles that have been written, and videos that have been posted. I would love to share it all here, but there's no way to do so. I could spend days holed up in my room going through Michael things on the internet. Too bad I don't have time to savor this moment in HIStory.
RIP MICHAEL JACKSON
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