Sunday, August 31, 2008

Story of the Day 8/31/2008

I am not very good at planning escapes.
I tend to freeze when alarms go off.
And they do go off.
Even if it is the person behind me, at the library or Target, and the buzzer goes off indicating something hasn’t been checked out or paid for…I freeze.

When they go off for me, I always turn around and am not sure what to do.
Usually, an employee waves me on.
Once, someone who worked at the store- in security guard garb told me, “We know that if you turn back, you aren’t’ stealing anything.”I thought about it, and realized the truth in that statement.

But this was different.
I was planning an escape, and I already knew that I was taking something out without checking it out.

Well, maybe.
You see, the staff person had told me that Mary couldn’t come with me unless I signed her out.
And I couldn’t sign her out, unless I got permission from her son, in Florida.

Which, I tried to do, but his regular phone wouldn’t even take a message, and I wasn’t sure if her was going to answer the message I left on his cell phone, in time.

You see, I had promised Mary- and soon, she wont’ be here.
Her son is moving her to Florida.
So, I had visions of tossing her in the back of my car- or maybe the front, and desperately driving away from the nursing home at 85 miles per hour.

I know that Esther goes 90…. but I couldn’t quite even visualize that…
I know, this is a sign that I should probably let Mary drive.

You see, Mary has Alzheimer’s, only I am not sure she does.
She cycles a bit in conversation- not good memory for things you discussed 15 or 20 minutes ago. But she knows it is Sunday, and tomorrow is Labor Day, and on Tuesday, she will be on her way to Florida.
And she can tell you all about yesterday and a week ago- but an hour ago? No.
So, part of me is also trying to second guess the doctor who labeled this- but, the good thing about her move is that maybe her son will oversee this- in case it is something else…..

Anyhow, I needed to get her out of there, because I had promised to show her the synagogue.

A couple of years ago, after generations spent in decaying, but loved, buildings, our kahal (community) built a beautiful new building.
And Mary has ever only seen the outside of it.
And she has mentioned a few times wanting to go inside.

Since, she was moved into the nursing home right behind it (a 5 minute walk, if you are slow, and she isn’t), I go to see her on Shabbat, after services.

A few times, I have thought about coming by before services and taking her with me, so that she can see the inside- but taking Mary to services? Why would I do that- I like her.
Mary wouldn’t’ enjoy the services; although she would be happy to shmooze afterwards- what she really wanted to do was just see the inside of the building.

So, I had, when, yesterday, she told me how soon she was leaving, very little time to arrange this.
And, I had to figure out how to do it, in case her son didn’t get back to me, in time.


As I said, I am not good at planning escapes.
So, it is a good thing that he did call me back.

Which is why I can write to you from the comfort of my own family room and not from eth lockup in Kansas (I would like to think we might have made it that far.)

Mary, when we got to the front of the synagogue, realized that it was closed, and locked- and that we were going in, anyway , exclaimed, “They trust you with a key?”
Well, as I said to her, “no, they didn’t.”
But we won’t go into that, now……


Incidentally, I think we will have to have another field trip, tomorrow.

Mary suggested a bar.

Friday, August 29, 2008

Story of the Day 8/29/2008 #2

I have spent the last two days learning how to caption videos.
Of course, this was drastically complicated by the fact that I type...well, I don’t – which is the problem. And I don’t read directions.
But, despite all of this, I have managed to learn how to mangle captioning with the rest of them. Well, actually, that isn't’ true.
I have learned to subtitle-, which is actually different than captioning.

The difference? I haven’t figured that one out yet, since I haven’t read the directions.

Anyhow, I had a break from the damn computer (if you had my typing skills and were trying to subtitle, you would use that language too!), yesterday evening.
Sarah and I were out watching the Indiana Fever get trounced. It was painful.
For us and for them.
So, we were out- and I was away fro eth damned computer, except, that I had a phone call that my son was having trouble burning his most recent video onto DVD.
It was burning- but sans the sound.
Perfect for Sarah, but he was taking it in to his Hebrew class, and those kids are hearing.

I gave him a step by step of what to do….over the phone. Only it didn’t.
So, when I came home, I did it the way that I have always done it- and it didn’t work.

I have no idea why.
I have also never read the direction for that.

I sat down at the computer and started trying this and that and whatever comes after that.
I kept at it and kept at it and kept at it- I am a bit notorious for not giving up on things.
So, I kept at it until about 1:08 AM- which was no longer last night, but was this morning.
Yeah, I really don’t like reading directions.

Anyhow- success!

Was it worth it??Yes, because this morning, Aaron told me he loves me-!I assure you, with my cooking skills it is important to occasionally have a success like this, because even though I have trained my family to think that boxed and frozen food is the height of gourmet cooking, I don’t’ want to find myself out on the street , if they ever realize that it isn’t.

Story of teh day 8/29/2008 #1

I bought drugs today.
I had been trying not to.
The whole thing with buying controlled substances feels…wrong.
My friends feel that way, too.
But all the stuff they have out that is supposed to be “like Sudafed”, ain’t.
It either makes my heart race or makes me dizzy or feel ill, or…….
So, I handed over my driver’s license for them to copy, and signed the information thing – and bought the largest thing of it they had- since I don’t want to have to come back and buy it again, anytime soon.

Although, I have a feeling that once the word gets out that I have some, my friends will be begging it from me.

Was it 12:30 AM Tuesday morning? That feels right, I woke up with terrible vertigo. I could have used it then- even though it would have meant the end of sleep for the night.
On the other hand, who came sleep if they think the world is spinning and have this urge to puke?
So, maybe I will sleep with it next o my bed- for security reasons.

Thank G-d for drugs.

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Addendum- Story of the Day 8/19/2008

Addendum to Story of the Day 8/189/2008

One of the disadvantages of using the Blog is that I don't' get tons of responses for the Stories, like I used to.
Well, I do get a few, and I also get some that find their way to my Inbox, not posted as a comment to the Blog. Less than before, but still amusing.

It is nice to have smart, well-educated friends.

Lynne wrote to me : You probably don't want to know this, but "ponyboy" and "ponygirl" are kinky sex people. They dress up like and pretend they are ponies (naked in harnesses) and their kinky riders whip them. The ponyboys usually carry their riders piggyback. E&A might want to find new nicknames for each other.

I decided to share this information with Aaron and Esther, since those were their nicknames for one another.

A little later, I wrote back to Lynne:you should have seen Aaron's face when he read ur email.......priceless!


Esther had a more balanced response:hm, not what i was going for, but whatever. yeah..... she really ruined it alright

Of course, I also wanted to know how Lynne knew that.

So I wrote to her:and how did u know that???????

And the reply?

heehee, just all the extra-curricular reading i do!

Monday, August 25, 2008

Story of teh Day 8/25/2008

A problem with the blog is that stories are not going to go up in order.
Okay, so I didn’t’ always send them in order, either, but it is so much more accusatory when they are posted out of order- like an official-“Do you know what day it is?”
But I am waiting on two approvals for stories, so they have to wait…

On the other hand, maybe it is just a very real reflection of my warped life…my surreal real world where everything is just a little out of order.

Yeah, I am having one of those days.

Tonight was back to school night.
For Aaron’s school.
I get to do this again, on Thursday, for Sarah.
Of course, tonight, all I have is back to school night. On Thursday I have three things scheduled which all conflict- so it will be , “how can I do 15 minutes of this and then get to the next thing?” all evening.

Three years ago was Aaron’s Freshman year , and Esther’s Senior year , at the same school.
This meant that all night – for Open House- my butt was supposed to be in two different chairs in two different rooms during each “period” . Luckily, they had different lunch periods, so that meant one uncontested class I could visit for each of them.

And, just to show that the teachers are not without compassion, there is a little extra credit from some of them if you show up for their part of it- which is a real pain when the two teachers that offer it, one for each student, are during the same period.
I am suspicious that the teachers do this on purpose. It helps tehm to figure out which kids are the most vicious – sicen the parent will not miss that class!
So, which child I have is more likely to murder me ?….and, it is at those moments I am grateful I only had two kids at the same school during the same year. I could have had three….or four…..hey, some families do.

At any rate, tonight my butt only had to get to one chair for each “period”. But I spent the first 4 classes wondering how I could be such a loser.
Every teacher talked about papers I should have seen and signed.
But I hadn’t.

I am known for being an airhead, but I swear to you, I hadnt’ seen or signed any of them. NOT A ONE!
So, now my son is in danger of being failed out of school during his senior year- and it is all my fault!

But then, in 7th “period”, a teacher said the one little thing that jolted me back to reality. She said, “I sent this home with your student the second day of school…”

I would have jumped up and hugged her except that I was wedged into a space between a desk and a wall- with a chunk of blackboard sticking me in the back of my head.

I hope that isn’t my son’s normal seat.

You see, I wasn’t’ there.
Not the seat, the first week of school.

I was in New Jersey.
So, hopefully Larry saw all those papers and took care of them.
So, if Aaron is flunked out for this, at least I had nothing to do with it.

Ahhhhh.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Story of the Evenening 8/19/2008

I waved good-bye to Esther, this morning.

She had very clear instructions to call me every now and then, so I didn’t worry (too much).
And she was good and kept to a schedule about it.
There was a call from her about 3 hours after she left, everything was fine, and another one, a couple of hours after that. She had missed her exit for the highway, or taken a different one, and could I run it on Google map.
Well, I couldn’t’. I tried, but it was too complicated for me, and by the time I had pulled the information up on mapquest- the tool of us old fogies who can’t comprehend googlemap, she had found a sign directing her to the correct highway.

She called again, before she ate the sandwich she had packed. And then it was quiet.
Of course, I was busy steering Sarah through the 47 lbs of homework (well, that is what the textbooks weighed). And it did require steering. She was so over tired that’s he literally fell asleep sitting-up.


But then, while I was making dinner, Aaron picked up the phone.
Something was wrong.
A speeding ticket.
She was only going 45.
Wait….but what was the speed limit?
And the cop kept her for 30 minutes.
And she was upset- which made the nasty mommy in me (known as the disciplinarian) remind her that this was a good lesson.
And she was lucky it wasn’t’ a car accident.

And then, she called again, because all the hotels were full.

Well, she did see a sign for an Econo Lodge, ad she was going to try to find it. But the other places she had stopped were full.
Why? Was this some special occasion?

I told her to call me from the Econo Lodge- whether or not she got a room.

But she didn’t.

A couple of hours later, Esther called from a different hotel.

“The Econo Lodge was no where near the highway. I kept driving and driving.
Then, when I found it, they had a room.
But when I walked in, I realized it was the same hotel I stayed at with daddy when he drove me out, freshman year.
And it was too sad to stay there without him.
So I walked right out and drove to this hotel.”

The new hotel was comforting.
Her room has a view of the college’s soccer field.
She can’t get lost.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Story of teh Day 8/19/2008

When Sarah arrived at school, she set down her backpack .
Her backpack is black with blue trim, and weighs about 47 lbs.
Not empty.
Filled.
For some reason the teachers at ISD send the kids home with homework from each and every class, and the weight of the backpack, thus laden, is immense.
So , she set the backpack, that was getting ready to rip at the seams, down and started pulling out her books and her homework.
And, tucked into the bottom of the backpack was a piece of paper, folded into quarters and written on in green magic marker.

Someone had put it there before she had loaded her books back into her pack- and she was curious…..

It read:”Dear Ponygirl,

Have a good semester!
Drive safe. I know that you
And Eliot will continue to
Grow more beautiful and wiser!

Love, Ponyboy!”

Of course, Sarah brought it home to show to me.



When Esther called, at about 5 PM, I read it to her.
She told me that when Sarah and I were packing to leave for our trip, she had snuck a note into our bags.
Aaron had spotted her and asked her what she was doing.
Esther explained that it was fun to get a note, when you went away on a trip.

Aaron had , earlier this morning, or maybe last night, mistaken Sarah’s black with blue trim backpack for Esther’s black with blue trim backpack. Esther’s has a patch and some Oriental script on it. Sarah’s is plain.
She forgot to tell him to make sure you put it in the right backpack.

We’ll mail it to her, tomorrow.

Story of the Day 8/18/2008

We are trying to recover.

I know that people return from vacations and trips worn out from their activities and even hung-over, but I think Sarah and I were more ………than that.

Our last day- well, when we though it was our last day, Jon- the organizer for the conference- said he hoped to see us, “next year.’ That was his hint that the next JDC (Jewish Deaf Congress) conference would be in 2009.
Now, traditionally, their conferences are every two years. That means that the conference we attended should have been last year…but because of calendar issues and conflicts, like the World Deaf Conference in 2007, it was decided to skip a year.

Apparently, this created two problems. One is that the by-laws lay out elected terms, and it threw a bit o f a wrench into that order. And, two, people thought that the JDC had folded…a fate that has happened to several other Jewish deaf organizations, over the years.

So, the next conference could very well be next year.

Only, I can’t imagine we will see Jon there, because I doubt we will have recovered sufficiently to face attending.

Well, maybe if it is in Indianapolis…


So, that was motzi Shabbat our conversation with Jon. Motzi Shabbat means Saturday night, after Shabbat has ended. And we had been going back and forth about when we should leave to catch our Amtrak train from New York. But it had been decided before Shabbat- and we certain this was the end of our stay at the hotel.

You see, several months ago, when I looked into getting to and from the conference, there was an Amtrak train that left directly from Princeton Junction- which is 5 miles from the hotel. And the Sunday morning train went to Indianapolis. An odd and contorted route, to be sure, but we wouldn’t’ have to change trains.

Perfect!
Except that, one day this summer, the train disappeared.


Well, I called Amtrak.
“What happened to the train from Princeton junction to Indianapolis that was scheduled to depart on Sunday, August 18th? We were supposed to be on it. ”
“Oh, we no longer provide service through Princeton Junction.””But what about the train that was scheduled for that date.”

I am hearing the theme music from the Twilight Zone playing in the background.
It isn’t comforting.
”Passengers will have to decide which nearby station they want to use to board the train.”Nearby?
Well, New York’s Penn Station was a good bit nearer than Virginia…

So, I found out that we could catch the New Jersey Transit’s commuter train from Princeton Junction to Penn Station.
And when I called the hotel, they said that they ran a shuttle, and that we could just give them the time we wanted it. They would take us to the NJT station.

Okay, we were back from the Twilight Zone.

Sort of.

When we arrived at the hotel, and got somewhat settled, I asked the concierge for the New Jersey transit train schedule.
Turns out we had two choices, taking a morning train, the very first one on Sunday morning, from Princeton Junction that would arrive in New York with about 14 minutes for us t get from the commuter train to our Amtrak train, or one that left, the last train Saturday night, at 1:11 AM (okay, really Sunday morning), that would get us into Penn Station about 4 ½ hours before our train would leave for Indianapolis.

Sarah and I weighed the pros and cons.

We spoke with numerous people about the amount of time needed to get from one part ( NJT) of Penn Station to the other (Amtrak), and we were told it was about 10-12 minutes at a very fast walk. But that involved going up and down stairs- and we were loaded down with two heavy suitcases on wheels and a backpack.

Despite the desire to get some sleep in a bed, we opted too go on eth red-eye, and spend the 4 ½ hours sitting on a bench at Penn Station.
This meant no risk of missing our train home. An important little detail, since all of the Monday trains were sold out, and there was a Tuesday morning train that still had seats, a couple of months ago, but who knows what the situation was, by now.

So, Sarah and I decided to take a nap, on Shabbat- a common enough thing for people to do, but ours had the motive of allowing us to not be completely incoherent by Sunday morning’s 6:55 AM Amtrak departure time.

We were also told that Penn Station was an okay place to wait.
This had been a bit of a concern of mine, since I remember it from 23 years ago.
It was definitely no place you should want to take a date, and you had to be careful to keep your purse tucked tightly under your arm at all times and to not make eye-contact with anyone.
Un-like our “Jesus love” lady from the Columbus bus-station, the Penn Station characters were unlikely to be benign.

However, I was told that the atmosphere of Penn Station had changed, substantially for the better.

This was thanks to September 11, because now Penn Station was patrolled, at all times, by soldiers.

Okay, I am seeing that this will be an interesting experience, and I am really glad that I look like a haggard and somewhat overweight middle aged mother and not a potential terrorist…….


So, I , ask the hotel to arrange for a cab to pick us up at 10:45 PM for the three-minute ride to the Princeton Junction station. This should leave us plenty of time to get the 1:11.
The hotel employee tells me that the cab company is very reliable. This is after we discuss whether I might want a car service, instead.

Sarah and I are out at the front of the hotel by 10:30. And we wait.
And we wait.
And we wait.
At 10:55, I go into the hotel and ask (luckily the same person who had called) if they could call the taxi station again.
They don’t pick up the phone.

One of the other workers, grabs some keys and says, “come on, it is very quiet, I will drive you there.”So, she kindly takes us off in the shuttle and drops us at the station near the cab stand, where a half dozen taxis are lined up…….

We try the kiosk to buy a ticket, but it is having a hard time taking my charge card, and I want to get to the train platform on time, so I cancel it and figure I will just pay a few extra dollars on the train.

We cross over to the platform and wait. A girl- college-aged?_ comes over. She is on her cell phone. She tells me that the train left early. She has also missed it, she thought she was 10 minutes early, and the train closed it’s doors before she could get up to it. She is now calling her dad to come pick her up.

Sarah and I cross back over to the cab stand.

It is deserted.
There is another young woman, maybe 25, and I ask her if there is a public phone. I need the phone book or information or something to call a cab.
She says there isn't’ one.

She leaves and Sarah and I are at the now empty station in the dark.
This is worse than hearing the Twilight Zone theme. It is 1:15 AM, and anyone we run into is not likely to be friendly.
I was okay with sitting at Penn Station for 4 ½ hours, but I am not okay with sitting out here with my daughter .
There are no friendly soldiers. Heck, in this situation, I would probably consider them friendly looking if they thought I looked like a potential terrorist!
I shed tears for about 15 seconds, then apologized to Sarah
“I’m sorry, I am supposed to be strong for you and not cry.”
Now I get to feel guilty about being deficient as a mother.

So I call Lynne.

The second I hear her voice, I feel better.
I ask her if she still has the number for the hotel.
I know I have it, but am not sure where it is packed.
We are both looking. She on her end, and I on mine.
I find it.
“Thanks.”And when I am dialing, a cab pulls up. He wants a G-d awful sum for the same 3-minute trip back to the hotel, but he also knows I have to pay it- which I do.

So we are back at the hotel- and the same lady who drove us out to the station is at the desk. She tells us she will get us to the station , in the morning ( well, later this same morning). She tells me she had a feeling she should have stayed- and that the trains are sometimes early and sometimes late. We will hear that remark, again, a few more times , this day. She works until 9 AM, so, even though the shuttle isn’t supposed to run that early, she will get us there.
I thank her profusely.

Well, they manage to give us our room back- and we get some sleep. I sleep about 30 minutes and Sarah sleeps for about 2 hours.
Hey, I tried!

And then we are off, again.

Lynne, meanwhile, has searched the web.
ALL SHE IS FINDING ARE SOLD OUT TRAINS.
We may have to make our way to Philadelphia, if we don’t make it to our train, and try to get plane tickets to fly home.


This time, the New Jersey transit experience is better.
Our conductor is named Frank.
I ask him which direction we need to walk from the train to get to the Amtrak area of Penn Station- I don’t’ want to waste any time being lost.
He asks what time our train is.
I pull out our tickets and show him.
“That is close.” He says.
But then he gives me detailed instructions on exactly how to go . First, we have to make it from one end of the train we are on to the other. We should only do this when the train is stopped. (We have many stops and more than an hour. No problem.)Then, when we get off at Penn Station, we need to exit to the right and go past the first set of stairs.
Turn right for the stairs that are short and then have a ramp.
After that there will be an escalator nearby. He continues on with his directions,.
He tells me we can make it if we go that way. Bags or not.

He also tells us he’s named for his father, but he has broken the tradition and given his son a different name.
His brother lives in Indiana- he is a teacher of Political Science at IU, and Frank likes Indiana. It is very clean.

His directions were good. We get to the gate for the Amtrak train 4 minutes early.
We get on and get seats together. Not a problem, at this point- but it will be a problem for people boarding at later stops.

The moment I sit down, I feel very peaceful.
I tell Sarah, “We are really going to go home.”

Of course, considering our trip out, that might have been a foolishly idealist remark.

So, I am not sure if we will be ready to attend another conference in only a year.

We need time to recover.

And I wonder why none of our friends ever want to go on trips with us.

Story of the Day 8/11/2008

At 12:44 Am, Monday morning, Sarah and I boarded the Greyhound bus for King of Prussia.
We had checked our two large suitcases- the rolling kind that were bright red and which we had stolen from Aaron's room- for King of Prussia, and, since we were told that the bus went straight there, we kind of figured that, at least, there was very little chance that the two bags would end up in some other city.

It had been 25 years since I'd ridden Greyhound and Trail ways, and I had forgotten some of the small details of the bus-riding experience.
I had forgotten how dirty most of the stations are. Well, the one in Columbus wasn’t too bad, except, there was no toilet paper in any of the stall in the ladies' restroom.
But the restroom wasn't very dirty!
Of course, it doesn't mean that we didn't miss having toilet paper.

I had also forgotten how they required the riders to get off the bus at each station while they serviced the bus.
Oh wait! I didn’t' forget that, they didn’t' used to do that. I know because I would sometimes manage to sleep through some of those stops.
This must be a new security thing- like the big plastic divider they swing into place between the passengers and the driver, to prevent us from stabbing him while he is driving.
They didn’t' used to have one of those...
Maybe , next time I ride3, they will have dividers between passengers, too, to prevent beheadings….or maybe only in Canada.

They also didn’t used to have the skinny lady who went from passenger to passenger in the Columbus station saying, "Jesus loves you. Have a safe trip!"
With a big smile. They must have imported her from an Amtrak station.
Or maybe from the New York subway system.

I do not share her belief system, but she must have had some kind of premonition about the Columbus experience, and I am not referring to the dearth of toilet paper.
It was at the Columbus station that the first part of the series of events that lead to us being separated from our luggage occurred.

When we re-boarded the bus, the new driver, relieving the one who had taken us there from Indianapolis, took our re-board pass and tore off our tickets.

He did this for us, and for the other passengers.

None of us knew that this was important, until our next stop and that re-board.
You see, it was discovered, upon re-board, that he had torn off our destination tickets- which we supposed to keep till the last leg- and the new bus driver didn’t' want us to re-board, since now all we had were our receipts- which looked a bit like tickets, but showed the series of stops the bus made, include the final stop on our leg, Philadelphia- but were not tickets.

This might not have created a problem, except that by now our bus was almost 2 hours late, and when we reached Pittsburgh, the bus that arrived in the station just before us, and was also headed to Philadelphia, and they were over 4 hours late.
So, a decision was made by Greyhound to divide up the smaller stops.

There was some sort of announcement made on the overhead - and I caught the words "King of Prussia".
Now, I struggle to ever hear anything from the overhead (PA system), other than noise, but, thinking it might be important, I went up to one of the Greyhound workers, and asked him, and he told me to go stand in line 7. So, Sarah and I went o stand in line 7.
And, when we got to the doorway, the driver who was checking the tickets looked at ours and sent us to board the same bus we had gotten off of-, which should have been fine. Since we knew, when we boarded in Indianapolis, that our bus stopped at King of Prussia.

But it wasn't. And we didn’t' realize this until we were almost in Philadelphia.

Okay, that was my fault, you see, I get hideously motion sick, so I travel with my eyes closed.
Well, unless I am driving.
Wait, I don’t mean that I don’t get motion sick when I drive- I do, just usually less often, but I do keep my eyes open…..just in case you were wondering……
But Lynne, hoping to keep us from waiting too long at the station, told me to give her a call when we hit mile 290, so that he could leave home and meet us there when we arrived.

So, every few minutes I would open my eyes and check.
And, when the driver pulled off at what looked to be the correct exit, I closed my eyes again- and didn’t' reopen them for a bit- a bit being when it was clear that we were past King of Prussia.... but going where???




Then my cell phone went off. I could feel it vibrating.
Unfortunately, it was under Sarah, and Sarah was asleep. I got it, but just late enough to have missed Lynne's call.
So, I started to call her back, and lost service.

Several minutes later, service was resumed.... but it was already too late, between reading mile markers, and hunting for cell phones and looking to dial her number, I was hideously carsick.

You should be proud of me. I managed to not puke until we were off the bus.
Of course, off the bus includes being on the steps coming off the bus.


Of course, not puking didn't mean I wasn't heaving - I was just keeping my mouth closed and forcing it in- until after I got off the bus.
According to Sarah's description, ALL of the other passengers (who had disembarked) were staring at me as I puked into one of the bags I carry with me on trips for just this purpose...
It is always good to plan ahead.

After I had finished with that bag, I asked what had happened.
Oh, okay, I waited a couple of minutes to make sure I didn’t' puke on the front of the person I was asking.
The bus driver wasn’t' very helpful.
Fortunately, the other passengers were.
Turns out, when the guy steered me back on the bus we had gotten off of, at that station- he sent me to the wrong bus- because my ticket saying "King of Prussia" had been taken, and he had only seen that it was the Philadelphia bus.
And this bus SHOULD have stopped there, but they had split the stops between the two buses, trying to make up some time...
So here we were in Philly.

Okay, I thought, let's get our luggage and then we'll get to Lynne.

But our luggage wasn’t there. A thorough search of the underbelly of the bus showed that the suitcases were.... gone.

Gone where? Well, the tags on them said King of Prussia, so they had been put on the other bus.

I called Lynne with this new information.
Of course, I had to interrupt the call to puke into a new bag.
My third.

Yeah, I know I only left home with two, but one of the Greyhound workers gave me a new plastic garbage bag to use, after I had yucked up bag number 2.

.So, Lynne knows we are in Philly, and our bags are supposedly in King of Prussia, with her- or near her- but, on inquiry, Tasha- who later becomes a friend- tells her- "Oh no, the bags aren't here, They must have gone on to New York." If we're lucky, they'll come back on the 8 am bus & arrive by 11 am. Then a miracle happened - Tasha called us at 8 PM to say they arrived, but the office was closed, so we could get them at 5:15 am.
We waited till 8. That decision didn’t even require a vote.


Oh joy. So, back to when we are at the Philly Amtrak Station, and I am on the phone with Lynne.
Lynne gives us directions on how to catch a commuter train to a stop near her home. Hey, this part goes very smoothly I don’t' even have to go into the station to ask where to find the commuter station- I can see it, since I am already outside, hoping that the fresh air will end my queasiness...

About 80 minutes later, we are safely back at Lynne's home, having been picked up by her hubby, Joe.
Heck, he even took us to Wal-Greens to buy toothbrushes and boy's boxers and tees to sleep in. I am sure Aaron and Esther will love these only slightly used souvenirs we bought for them.
Not sure who will get the "Hawaiian Tropic" boxers I am currently wearing....

And Lynne, when she arrives, shows us what she brought with her to the station to meet us...you know, the Greyhound trip to King of Prussia that never happened.... chilled water bottles, and a carefully bagged wet towel for me to clean up. You see, she knew in advance I would have puked!

So, at 12:44 Am on Monday morning, we boarded a Greyhound for King of Prussia. We just never arrived.

Lynne 's comment on this? "I learned that busses are not more reliable than airplanes at delivering luggage.”
And passengers.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Story of the Day 8/12/2008




Esther called me, earlie , this afternoon, and shared what has been happening at home, since Sarah and I left.
After my urging her to, she typed up the following story:

As Aaron and I were on our way to the grocery store today I decided that maybe we should clean out the car a little bit before it becomes my moms, since she's going to have to drive it around full of our old mapquest directions and water bottles and broken umbrellas if we don't throw it all out.
Marsh is right next to Mailbox's Express, and since Aaron and I have left the trunk full of packing peanuts all summer (meant to be dropped off there) we decided now was a good time to dispose of them.Last time Aaron went in they told him that they had enough and couldn't accept our peanuts. I told him that this time if they said that we were going to drop the peanuts and run.
While Aaron cleaned up some spilled peanuts in the trunk i took in the first trip worth of bags. The lady inside told me that they weren't accepting any peanuts because someone had dropped off a boatload just yesterday.
I left and told Aaron, he said, well, we can still drop them and run, but since they had already seen me Aaron volunteered to do it himself.
He took the bags in and dropped them on the counter without seeing the lady, and then heard her say "Sir, we can't take those," on the way out, but decided to play deaf. She caught on and started waving her arms, so Aaron looked at her and calmly smiled and waved back and left.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Story of the Day 8/07/2008

Esther, Sarah and I left Aaron at home.
He was tired and wanted to take a nap before going to work, and we were off in search of school shoes for Sarah.

While we were gone, the phone rang. Since Aaron was the only one at home, he ended up in a conversation with a neighbor.
Then the doorbell rang.
Aaron tried to explain to the neighbor that he needed to go answer the door, but the neighbor kept going.
Again, the doorbell rang.
Again, Aaron said, “I need to go answer the door.” But the neighbor kept on talking.
Then Aaron heard someone come into the house.
“Oh it must have been my mom.”He yells out, “I’m in the bedroom, Mom!’
There was an answer form down the hall, but Aaron wasn’t sure what was said.
“Mom, I’m in the bedroom!”
Again, an answer, and Aaron, who couldn’t figure out what I had said, decided to trek out to the front hall.

Only, it wasn’t me.

Deftly, at least by our clumsy standards, he grabs up his pants from the floor, where he had dropped them on his way to his bedroom; and held the in front of himself.
“Oh, Hi , Mrs. Stufflebeam!”

A few hours later, I was on the phone with the :visitor” ad she shared the following with me.
Since she has several sons, she didn’t think anything odd about his coming out to greet her in his boxers, or in the fact that he had left his pants in the middle of the front hall.
Seemed perfectly normal , to her.

Monday, August 4, 2008

Story of teh Day 8/4/2008 #2

Today was the day Aaron has been waiting for.
When we arrived at Deb’s office, he practically strangled her with hugs.
Really.
He also proclaimed his love for her at least half a dozen times- after all- she is the Hearing Aid Queen.

Anyhow, when she finally escaped from his bear hugs, she made impressions for new ear molds, and sent the broken hearing aid off to be repaired.

Aaron was heartbroken when he realized he won’t have his hearing aid back for the first week of school- but he still left her office still professing his undying love for her.

Today was also the day to pick up Sarah’s textbooks.
Why? Well, we were having to do it, this week, anyhow- but here we were, already at ISD for Aaron’s date with the audiologist.
Whoops, I meant appointment.

Since we are off to the Jewish Deaf conference- she will be missing the first week of classes, and we wanted to get the books and assignments to start work on them- so she wouldn’t’ be so far behind when we get back.

Well, the books were there, but no assignments…..
Which I had kind of expected- even if we had come on Wednesday….

And I think we also confounded poor Cindy- the Middle School secretary, because I wanted to know if these were “our” copies of the textbooks (Social Studies and Language Arts) or Sarah’s copies. Ours, of course being the ones ISD is supposed to provide for us, following the lovely year we had with ISD, when Sarah was the only student in her grade ( oh heck, in the school) denied access to a textbook. Most probably because she was Jewish and her teacher a neo-nazi or white supremacist or whatever specific brand of anti-Semite he was- oh, and the fact that despite repeated attempts to get a book for her through the administration, Sarah was left to flounder textbookless for things like doing homework and studying for tests.

Of course, the Deaf School hasn’t kept most of their agreements with us…so, it was probably asking too much for them to bother with this one…..

Anyhow, back to our visit there.

Cindy did want to share with us about her visit to Washington, DC.
Cindy is a friendly person- and both Sarah and I like her a lot- so, chatting with her does not fall under the category of “unusual” - but , for some reason, Cindy was very specifically wanted to share her experience there with us.

Cindy loves to read and she also loves history- and while in DC she visited the Holocaust Museum.

I have never been there. Sarah and I were supposed to go, several years ago- as part of our program at that year’s Jewish Deaf Conference- but our trip was cancelled due to a family emergency.

I have, however, heard about it and read about it.

When you go, they give you an “identity”- they match you up to a person who experienced the Holocaust. Then you go through the museum and learn about the Holocaust- and at the end, you find out what happened to the person you were paired to…if they died, if they survived, and some of what is known about their experiences.

And Cindy was given an identity and a coincidence.

The identity she was given was for a person whose last name was “Greenbaum”- well, their original name was a European version of that- but he survived, and his name was later anglicized to “Greenbaum” – after he came to America.

Which is the same thing that happened to Sarah’s grandfather- Larry’s father.

And Cindy made a gift of this “passport” (that is how the biographies are done) to Sarah.

Wow.

Which is really the only even half-intelligent thing that I could say to that.

And, of course, now Sarah is trying t find out if her grandfather and this other survivor are related.

There is another word for coincidence. Well, one of the other words, and it doesn’t really mean the same thing- but it is a flavor of the same thing- serendipity. I always think of serendipity as a positive occurrence. Coincidence isn’t necessarily. But, when it happens, it certainly colors the moment in such a way that it is hard to shake off.

Either way- they startle you when they happen- and eventually, you adjust and accept the occurrence. But….

Story of the Day 8/4/2008

Today was special.

Okay, this evening was special.

My husband and I very rarely have the opportunity to spend time together. Time, as in without the kids. Even more rare is the opportunity to do this away from the house.

This evening, however, we had a bit of an unplanned evening together- a date, you might call it.
It got me out of cooking dinner, this evening, and it even included sitting on a bench in a rather quiet area.

Of course, quiet is a rather relative term when you are talking about Wal-Mart.

It all started with a phone call.
It was after 5:45 PM. Forgive me for not being more specific, and I was just getting ready to figure out what to make for dinner. when the phone rang.

I was a bit surprised to hear Larry- and I immediately started thinking that someone had died or suffered a stroke, because his voice was…strained.
But it wasn’t that.
“I’m stuck. The car won’t start.”

Well, I asked if he had jumper cables.
Both sets were in his trunk.

So, I got directions from him and then drove the half hour down to Greenwood- and to his office.
I had never been to his office before.
It was very nice.
A bit empty- heck the doors were already locked and he had to let me in, but nice.
The bathroom is also nice. (I had to pee, by the time I got there. Hey, I left home in a hurry!)

After successfully jumping the car- providing us with the definitive answer that it was the battery….we called Esther and had her call Wal-Mart to see how late the automotive section was open for changing batteries.
Wal-mart was the most convenient choice, since they were less than one mile from his office, on the way to the entrance to the expressway home, and the only place we were likely to locate, at 6:35 PM (the time that it now was), to get the battery changed.

She called back in less than minute. “7:00”
So we drove to Wal-Mart- arriving exactly 21 minutes before the automotive part closed.
We didn’t even speed.
…And they changed the battery while we bought a cantaloupe and sat on their bench.

This may not seem romantic to you, but, hey, I have low standards!

Afterward for Story of the Day 8/1/2008

I had a lot of interesting email responses to this particular Story of the Day. Of course, they were not really responses to the story, they were responses to the video.
I also had some interesting responses to starting up this Blog- and the two topics are interconnected.

A few friends made comments like, “How will I know when there is a new story?”Well, I wouldn’t have known this, but apparently, you subscribe to the Blog and then an email is sent to your inbox when I post a new story.

There was also a query about control of who sees the stories…and , yes, I lose any little bit of control I have- but, ion the other hand, the really confidential stuff has only ever been emailed to a very small number of people.

Last, Lisa, who is young enough ( and cool enough that my daughter still gets thrilled when her name is mentioned) to understand how Blogs work said that she prefers this format, because you can leave comments and read other people’s comments. (I didn’t know you could do that, either…. See, Lisa really is cool.)

And, gee, some of the comments inspired by Aaron’s video should have been shared!

I would also like to mention that we are hoping to post a few other Aaron videos. First of all, he has a new “commercial” that will be out in a few days- a week at the most.Second, Esther is threatening to do a blooper reel……

Story of the Day 8/1/2008

I am posting this, even though it is a few days old, becasue there si an afterward, from today ( 8/4/2008)

Story of the Day 8/1/2008


Here it is, Aaron’s latest video.

Esther is still stunned I let him crash the car for this. She has told several people, “And she said he could do it, just not to drive on the neighbor’s lawn!”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lgu4lZzTYTw

Sunday, August 3, 2008

Story of the Day 8/03/2008 #2

Story of the Day 8/3/08 #2

I was picking Aaron up from OLAB.
No, a couple of weeks ago, not today- but I said I would get back to this. And I am trying!
OLAB is that business course he was at for a week, at Wabash College.

I had come to pick him up on Friday. The program really wasn’t over until Saturday afternoon- but we ran into the typical Jew-problem that because of Shabbat, it was pick him up early or leave him to be homeless and untended in a strange town until 11 PM on Saturday night, when Shabbat was not only over, but we had managed to drive out and locate him after the end of it.
So, since we kind of like the kid, we opted to pick him up on Friday afternoon.

Only it wasn’t just me. Sarah came along to pick him up, and she was very enthused at seeing this fancy college that her brother had been at all week.

We meet him just outside the dorm, as planned, and he rushes us inside and grabs up his suitcase, and, as he is desperately rushing us out of there- he says, “ Hurry, we have to get out of here quickly!”

And I am wondering, “What in the fuck did he do?”
And Sarah is wondering why he won’t show her anything.

“Please, Mom, I don’t’ want to have to talk to anyone!”

And I am worried about what sort of a terrible week he had.


But his plea to heaven was not heeded, and several very friendly guys stopped us wanting to say good-bye to him.

As we are driving back, my son tells me,” It was awful! I was popular!”
Poor Aaron, he’d had a little too much of this unexplained change in his social status and was desperate to go back to being…well, whatever he normally is.

And, he has spent the past couple of weeks dreading the daily deluge of postings to his facebook account from the people he met…….

Wow, I never imagined it could be so bad.
But, don’t worry, a couple of weeks back with us and he is unpopular, again.

Story of teh Day 8/03/2008

Story of the Day 8/3/08


At dinner , Friday evening, we had Kara over. Over to make Challah, that afternoon, over for dinner, over to sleep, and over to wake up at the crack of dawn to go to synagogue- dragging Ms. Esther wit her.
Unfortunately, Esther turned out to be more of an influence on her than she was on Esther, and they stumbled into shul rather on the late side.

But, anyhow, back to dinner.
During dinner, Esther made the announcement that she was thinking about taking an ASL class, this coming semester.

I said, “You know, if you tae an ASL class, the other students are going to be jealous of you- because you have a deaf brother and sister. “(Okay, a deaf brother and a Deaf sister.“Bu if Aaron takes one (and he could use one), they all will look at him and wonder what is wrong with him- especially if they find out it was his first language.”