Saturday, May 25, 2013

Have Prayer, will travel

Before I speak of prayer on wheels, I announce to you that my clutch is suddenly cured and is not giving me one ounce of trouble.  I took it my car in for a tune up and $407 later learned that there is nothing wrong with my manual transmission.  I remain convinced the mechanic must have jiggled some wires or futzed with the clutch parts, which fixed whatever was ailing it, as the thing is purring like a kitten and my car drives like it's brand spanking new.  Thank you, Mr. Mechanic and Baby Front Wheel Drive Jesus!  (WWJD? He would drive a stick shift.  Don't you forget it.  And, he would have gotten new front brakes like I did because when ya gotta stop, ya gotta stop.)

I am taking an evening class at church.  (Don't ask.)  Our assignment for the week was to call "Silent Unity," a 24 hour prayer line created way back in the day of the founding of Unity--you know, turn of the century stuff.  Our teacher asked us to call so we could experience this "part" of the church's services.  Of course, back in the day, you had to correspond with Silent Unity by mail, as the phone and email were yet to grace the planet.  Anyways, the free prayer line is open to all, no matter what denomination or belief.  Heck, an atheist can call--they don't care and they don't ask.  (Who knows--maybe an atheist would call on behalf of a relative who has asked for such assistance.)  All they do is pray with you.  They lead the way--you don't have to say one word once you tell them why you are calling.  If you want correspondence, they will email or mail you, but to do this you obviously have to give them your contact information and they certainly don't pressure you for anything like that.  As it is a free service, you don't have to do anything but contact them and let the prayer begin.  You are welcomed to send a love offering, but the prayer will flow whether you do or don't.

In case you now have a hankerin' for prayer, you can call 1-800-NOW-PRAY or email Silent Unity via unity.org.  Heck, there is even a free app for "The Daily Word," which includes links to Silent Unity.  Is this a great country or what?

I totally forgot about this assignment until the day of class; in fact, I totally forgot about the assignment until I was on my way home to eat dinner before going to class.  It wasn't that I didn't want to call--I just didn't realize what day it was until it was the day of class. So, being the good multi-tasker that I am, I decided to call the prayer line while driving home for dinner.

Note to self: do not call a prayer line while driving.

The lady who answered the phone had an amazingly soothing voice--she was probably a late night love show disc jockey back in the day.

S.U.L. (Silent Unity Lady)"How may we pray with you today?"  

Driving while making my request was easy--I had already identified a topic and in a few short words presented my request.  I had planned on also engaging her in discussion about her experiences working the prayer line, but was fine with "just" prayer if that's how things went.

S.U.L.:  "So I may better pray with you, may I ask your first name?"

Me:  [insert my REAL name here.  I didn't think using "Addi Warrior Princess" would be appropriate.]

S.U.L.:  "Let's close our eyes...."

Me: [to self, behind the wheel....WHAT????? CLOSE MY EYES? CLOSE MY EYES? I can't close my eyes! I'm driving!  Should I interrupt her and tell her I'm driving?  OMG, why am I calling a prayer line while driving? Can she hear the traffic in the background? Oh dear god, whose idea was this? Does she think I'm a freak for calling while driving? Should I scream out that I can't close my eyes?]

S.U.L.   "...and let us get comfortable as we pray....."

Me:  [still panicking, eyes wide open, trying to listen and pray and drive at the same time.  Lady, I got one hand on the clutch, one hand on the wheel and you're balancing on my shoulder while surrounded by crabby 5 PM commuters.  How comfortable do you want me to be?]

S.U.L. went on and on with a wonderfully relaxing, positive, god-glowing prayer.  It was delicious.  The more she spoke, the more relaxed I felt.

Traffic zipping by, I decided I was wasting a really good prayer by driving and calling Silent Unity at the same time. 

I thought about pulling over but I could tell she was heading toward the prayer wrap-up and final "Amen."  I figured it was too late to get out of the right lane and into the prayer zone.  Alas, my moment of blessing was done.  As we ended the call, I agreed to have my prayer put on the 30 day prayer list, as I thought I'd get my "money's worth." Besides, it seemed like the right thing to do in regards to class homework.  I envisioned my request sitting on an alter or some fancy wooden table, along with four bazillion other requests, moving up the pile as each day rolls by.  I gave her my email address so she could send me "proof positive" that I'm on the prayer list and to encourage me to do my part in making the request come to fruition.  The call ended and I was only a few blocks from home.  Confident that my prayer was heard, happy that my homework was done, thankful that I can pray and drive at the same time, I headed in for dinner.

Me:  "Hey! Guess what I did on the way home?

The wife:  (stares at me, without comment).

Me: "I called Silent Unity!"

The wife:  (still staring at me, obviously thinking I am seriously deranged to be calling a prayer line while driving)  She laughed and shook her head.

I sat down and ate my dinner.  Right during my last spoonful of cereal (I am quite the gourmet some days), I decided that calling a prayer line while driving did make the commute go much fast.  After all, the song says, "Jesus, take the wheel."
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Thursday, May 16, 2013

Stick this

I've been having a bit of trouble with my manual transmission for the past few months.  It's one of those things that only happens whenever it decides to happen, with no rhyme or reason that I can identify. It's gotten to the point that I tell anyone who gets into my car, "Don't worry if my car does this really weird shuddering thing when we take off.  I swear you're safe and it'll stop doing it soon enough."  I'm not kidding about this.  I give a disclaimer.  It's disconcerting to have this "thing" happen if you haven't been warned about it.

For awhile, I just ignored it--after all, my car runs just fine: it starts, it gets me to where I'm going, it hasn't gotten any worse.  I tried different kinds of gas, from different gas stations, but that didn't make a difference.  I got my oil changed, but that didn't do anything, either.  So, it's been as is and I just hang on on when the body-shaking shuddering occurs.  I figured if I took it to a mechanic, the car wouldn't do "it" and I'd be at the same place I was before going to the mechanic.  I've done numerous internet searches and watched a whole slew of You-tube videos in an effort to identify potential causes but I've come up empty handed.  I've tried to take videos of an "episode," as I thought that would be helpful for the mechanic, but--of course--the issue NEVER happens when the video camera is on.

Hmmmm.  Note to self.  Run video camera at all times when driving....

So, if any of you have a history of stick shifting, car repair, identifying strange car behavior--or, even if you don't but still want to get in on the fun--here's what is going on:
1.  I drive a 2008 Honda Civic, Manual transition.  It runs quite well and appears to be in groovy condition.  Only 60,000 miles.
2.  I've driven a stick shift since 1985 so don't tell me it's my driving or sudden inability to use manual transmission.
3.  I drive without issue for a trip or maybe a couple of in town trips or even a highway trip without incident.
4.  Then, it happens---when shifting into first (from a stop), the car has a little shudder, only a hint of something being wrong.  Passengers may or may not notice this little shudder.  It's more like what the car sounds like if it were going to conk out, but again--I don't think most people notice.
5.  If lucky, when shifting into first, there is such a shudder that the entire car shakes and everyone inside gets jumbled around until the car is fully into first.
6.  It does NOT do it in any of the other gears. Only first gear.
7.  It may do it once, twice, twelve times....and, then it stops, not happening again for the remainder of the trip.
8.  Yes, I can drive without using first gear, but that kinda sucks and doesn't solve the problem.
9.  It will not do it if the video recorder is on or if a mechanic is in the car.

I know this because I took it to a mechanic today and, as anticipated, the car did nothing but ride smoothly.

The mechanic suggested it might be "clutch chatter."  I'd agree and had considered that except all the videos I've watched didn't look like what happens to my car.   I like the idea of a chattering clutch but only if it can be solved.

I've considered it might be the actual clutch pedal, the clutch itself, something with the clutch cables, a fuel filter or fuel pump issue or possession by Dale Earnhart.  I mean, how can it only happen when going in to first gear?

The mechanic suggested I just keep driving it, as is. He suggested it doesn't seem dangerous to drive.  It certainly didn't seem very troubling to him.  While I love the idea of giving him no money, I don't like the idea that I still don't have an answer.

So, I'm counting on you, esteemed readers in the Addiverse.  I'll do a few more internet searches, too. Maybe I should call those Car Talk guys and hang out at car show. I scheduled an appointment with the mechanic so he can keep my car all day. Maybe, just maybe, it will do the "Schaddi Shuffle" for him. As I made the appointment, he warned me that if it is the clutch, I should probably replace it sooner than later, as the price of clutches is going up, up, up. After all, who the hell still drives manual transmission? They aren't making many cars with stick shifts these days.

The wife says it's time I get an automatic car. I spit on that idea.  I mean, I love driving my stick shift.  Granted, if I lived in the city and had to survive stop-and-go traffic, I'd have killed myself by now.  Here in town, there isn't really a lot of traffic--well, by Chicago standards, anyways.  I've resigned myself to the fact that my next car will have to be an automatic but that's years and years away.  I plan on driving this one until it will drive no more.  I feel I can get to 300,000 in this baby.

The wife: "You need to get a car with automatic transition."

Me:  (While driving away from the stop light, as the SHUD-SHUD-SHUD-SHUD-shudder occurs) "Why?"

The wife: "You're getting too old to drive a stick shift.  What if your knee gives you trouble?"

Me: "I have two knees.  What if it's the right knee that gives me problems?"

The wife: "You can drive an automatic with one foot."

Me:  "No, you can't."

The wife: "Yes, you can.  If you have to."

Me: "Well, I don't have to. You just want me to get a new car."

I sense the 'You need a Ford' vibration coming from the passenger seat.  

She doesn't have to say a word.  I know she wants me to drive a Ford Edge or Escape.  I know her type.   She's a Ford Whore, an All-American Girl. Well, guess what, missy? My car has more Ford parts than her Ford probably has.  My "foreign" car was made in Canada and has Ford parts.  You leave my car alone. You step away from my shuddering car.

Me: "Maybe I'll get a Ford with a stick shift."

I think I'm funny.  But, since it's a quiet ride except for the occasional shudders, I'm guessing I'm not as funny as I think.  I'm sure she wants to tell me to "stick this stick shift" in places it won't shift, but she says nothing, not even during the shuddering.

For the record, I think it's wrong that they are phasing out manual transmissions.  The Stick Shift will become a lost art.  I am becoming a relic.

I shudder to even think that.
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Saturday, May 11, 2013

Music to My Ears

I dedicate this blog entry to Ms. Oh.See.Bee.A in honor of her graduation today.  This blog is technically nothing about her, but it is her day and it is time for celebration, so I dedicate it to her. She is an English major, so it terrifies me that she reads this blog--being a "stream of consciousness writer," I do not edit for grammar, spelling, anything--it is written the way it comes out of my brain, with no regard to matching tense or correct use of punctuation. (Heck, I switch tense three times within a sentence).  Ms. Oh.See waited a long time to get that diploma.  I tell her it is well worth the wait.  She is an amazing woman.  I admire her, her effort, her success and her "freedom" from the past.  We all have a past, some more colorful than others....some more blurry than others!  (I wouldn't go back to my past for all the money in Madonna's bank accounts but I wouldn't change a thing. Just sayin'.)  Ms. Oh.Cee.Bee.A, you are a joy.  Embrace your day!  I post this at the approximate time of your actual graduation so you may feel the love from the land of which you are now free.  Cheers!

Last night, the wife and I went to the Carrie Underwood concert here in town.  It's always a bonus when the two of us can agree on a musician to see in concert....the wife has no interest in seeing Madonna and I have no interest in seeing her beloved soft-pop-rock of the 70's type shows.  It was the third time we've seen Carrie in concert, so you know we agree on this artist.  For the record, she sounded one billion percent better last night than she did the first two concerts and she sounded five bazillion percent better than she did on one of the recent music award shows. It was an enjoyable, wholesome, reasonably-priced event that actually started three minutes early.  Hmmmm, Carrie Underwood concert starts three minutes early....Madonna's concert starts 2.5 hours late.  Score one for Carrie.

Concert going over the years has changed dramatically.  I blame it on cell phones and ticket prices.  It used to be against every concert rule on the planet to take photos during the show--in fact, it would say on the ticket "no cameras, no recordings."  With the camera phone, that point is mute.  How can you ban cell phones? You can't.  So, everyone is taking photos.  Thing is, no one taking camera phone photos is in the here-and-now experience of the concert because they are too busy wondering why their camera phone takes such shitty shots.  They are texting photos, posting photos, sharing photos. I'm just as guilty as the next.  I'm busy trying to capture a photo and miss the experience.  I should just leave my cell phone at home and pay attention to the reason I'm there.  Here's a photo of the concert, taken with my camera phone.  We didn't have good seats, so Carrie was pretty far away.

She's blue.  I like this photo because I can say something clever like, "She's got the blues."  It also illustrates how far away we were from the stage.  Carrie was only a few inches tall. No wonder my camera phone failed me.

As you regular readers know, I love music and I adore going to concerts.  You know I don't mind shelling out a ridiculous amount of money to go to buy an album or attend a concert. To this day, I say that music saved my life.  (Okay, that might be a bit dramatic but it's basically true albeit histrionic.) There is something about seeing a recording artist or band live--it's an event, a happening, an experience.  I am all about having an experience. Some people/bands sound much better in life; others sound different (in a good way); some sound awful and should stick to making albums (although seeing an artist suck in concert is part of the concert-going fun).   Some performers tell a story; others stand there in the same spot and sing, nothing more.  Some concerts include light shows, fire works, confetti, flying stages (ala Carrie), surprise guests, flying drummers (Madonna) trapeze act (P!nk), full gospel choirs--can't get those things while listening to a CD at home.  (Geez, I'm dating myself here.  I'm talking about albums and CDs. No one listens to albums and CDs any more--they are plugged in to their MP3 players, listening to downloaded music.) Some artists can move you to cry along with your 10,000 new best friends.  I've been to concerts that physically hurt--the music was so loud that my chest was rattling with the bass and my ears felt like they were bleeding. I've been to concerts without audio-equipment--it was the singer and the guitar, 100 feet away.  Interestingly, I've enjoyed going to concerts where I couldn't even see the performers, as evidenced by my enjoyment of attending concerts at Ravinia.

This got me thinking about what concerts I have seen over the past few decades.  I challenge you to identify who/what was the first concert you attended.  (That's an easy question for me: Andy Gibb. Sheesh, that'll date me.)
What was the last concert you attended?
Who would you like to see in concert?
Who did you hate in concert?
Do you even go to concerts?
If you don't, why don't you?
Would you rather go to a sporting event instead of a concert?
How much is too much to shell out for a concert?
What is the closest you've ever been seated at a concert?
(Ah, front row for the Michael Stanley Band, thanks to Rollerskating Robert. Love that band, great in concert, simple show of singing and rocking.  Purists.) 
Who do you take with you to concerts?
Have you ever been to an outdoor concert while it was raining?
Did you ever sneak photos with a real camera?
(Do you even own a real camera?)
Do you want a story line with your show?
Do you want seats on the floor, near the stage, anywhere in the arena as long as you can hear?
Do you hate finding and paying for parking for a concert as much as I do?
How far would you travel to see your favorite artist in concert?
Do you expect them to sing their hits?
Will you be disappointed if they focus on their most recent music instead of playing mostly the hits?

So many questions, so much good music to enjoy.

I've never seen the Rolling Stones, AC/DC, Nirvana, Prince, Michael Jackson, U2, Cheap Trick Rush or Brittney Spears in concert, so I lose big points for that. I win points for admitting I have seen Neil Diamond in concert...and, liked it.  I still have a shot at seeing some of those peeps, but my chances of seeing the Stones is growing smaller and my shot at seeing Michael Jackson and Nirvana is well past.

I can't help myself--I have to share a list of people/bands I've seen in concert.  It makes no difference in your life and it is certainly not profound to see someone's concert list unless it's your own.  But, a list might illustrate how much I really do love and appreciate live music.  I cannot even begin to compile a complete list, as I've seen more concerts than is probably legal.

Off the top of my head, with repeats not included (i.e. I've seen Madonna ten times) and no care for correct spelling.....I have thrown money, time and energy at the following acts/bands/performers.....

Andy Gibb, Chicago, Styx, Journey, Loverboy, Quarterflash, Motels, 38 Special, REO, Indigo Girls, Madonna, Foreigner, Leann Rhimes, Keith Urban, Scandal, Pat Benatar, Little Big Town, SheDaisy, Carrie Underwood, Miranda Lambert, Michael Stanley Band, Toto, Tracy Chapman, Johnny Clegg, Bob Dylan (yes, Bob Dylan), Dixie Chicks, Off Broadway, Bruce Springsteen, Sarah McLaughlin, Melissa Etheridge, Simple Minds, The Pretenders, Neil Diamond, Paula Cole, Scissor Sisters, The Bangles, Phil Collins, Genesis, Dwight Yokum, Suzi Boggus, The Judds, Wynonna Judd, Brad Paisley, Sugarland, Vince Gill, Jack Lambert, Dierks Bentley, Survivor, B-52's, Harry Bellafonte (now THERE'S A suprise!!!), Jane Oliver, Dar Williams (once when she was gay, once when she wasn't), Talking Heads, Jamie Anderson, Tret Fure, Cris Williamson, Suede, Grass/Food/Lodging, John Prine, Steve Goodman, Simple Minds, Sheryl Crow, Level 42, Technotronics, Amy Grant, Trish Yearwood, Bonnie Raitt, Natalie Merchant, Mary Chapin Carpenter, Black Eye Peas, Fruit, Sara Evans, Chris Young, Jerrod Neimann, Sonia Leigh, Zac Brown Band, Hunter Hayes, Craig Morgan, Darius Rucker, Eddie Money (kinda-sorta--I made the wife leave, so we heard him but did not see him),  JoDee Messina, Lady AnteBellum, Lady Gaga, Little Big Town, Martina McBride, R.Kelly, Terri Clark, Scandal, Shania Twain, Thompson Square, Lonestar, Diamond Rio (how did R.Kelly get mixed in with the parade of country singers?), 69 boyz, KT Oslin, Patty Loveless, John Cougar Mellencamp, Tiffany (!!!), Hall and Oates, Holly Near, Susan Werner (a favorite), kd Lang, Kathy Mattea, REM, Joan Osborne, Elton John (who had a cold and sounded terrible) and a whole bunch of opening acts, local talent and festival performers that I could never recall, even for a million dollars.

The wife saw Rascal Flatts without me because it was the night before my first day of work at a new job and I couldn't stay out that late.  I was bitter but sometimes ya gotta do what ya gotta do.

I've seen Madonna the most (ten times, I believe), with the Indigo Girls a close second (nine times and counting).  I touched Terri Clark's hand from the stage and Michael Stanley dripped a drop of sweat our way.  We saw Tiffany performing at Woodfield Mall (how hilarious is that???!!!!).  Bruce Springsteen was by far the longest anyone ever performed--well over 3.5 delicious hours. I was stunned by the amazing prowess Brad Paisley displayed when playing the guitar and the BEP were way better than I anticipated.  As for Ms. Oh.See--I saw Survivor at our place of regent education, so that has to be worth something.

If you ask me the questions posed above, I will answer every one of them.  Until asked, I'll spare you--instead, I am going to go work out, eat some chocolate, listen to Carrie's latest CD and send marvelous wishes, love and light to a certain grrrrl in the land of Sunshine.  Congratulations.  May the announcing of your name be music to your ears.

Sunday, May 05, 2013

The wife and I went to church today, me clad in my purple Chuck Taylors, bowling T-shirt and jeans.  I'm a casual kind of gal and figure the baby Jesus doesn't really care what I look like when hanging out in a house of worship.  Come to think of it, I basically look like a slob every week when I go to church.  Today was an on-call, anyways, so I figured I'd probably have to leave and thus who wants to wear dress clothes to go unclog a toilet or take someone to the emergency room?  I knew the minister wouldn't be there, because she had called to warn me, but she had secured a speaker and already had a pulpit assistant, so all was set in place.  I staked out my space, Slobs for Jesus, in the third row.

Imagine my surprise when the scheduled substitute speaker told me I would be leading the service and that he was only giving the talk--he was leaving the rest to me.  Introduction, Invocations, Announcements, Readings, Offertory, Meditation, Singing...you name it, I'd be doing it. I looked down at my clothes, looked up at him, looked down at my clothes, shrugged my shoulders and worked my way to the pulpit.

Sometimes, I keep a change of clothes in my car.  I thought about it, envisioning my car trunk contents...only to realize all I had in there was a spare pair of undies, a baseball hat and some "pee pee pads" for clients who happen to have a habit of leaving behind car seat "gifts of gold."  No help there.  Chucks and T-shirt would have to do.

I knew I should have done my hair and plucked my eyebrows.  Damn.

I turned to the wife and warned her if my phone rang, she'd have to take over.  She looked like she was going to throw up.  I imagined a bubble of love around my phone and asked it not to ring until the end of service.

I must say, it was like the circus was in town.  Oh, I got most of it right, but the organist had to cue me several times to remember this or that.  He was very polite about it.  Thank god he was paying attention because I sure wouldn't have remembered all that was supposed to be remembered. I had to make up the announcements, which would have been better had I the chance to write them down first. I found it quite humorous to be "blessing" the offertory and found it quite surreal that any church would let a gym-shoe-wearing heathen like me belly up to the bar.  The sound room had some issues, which led to a bit more excitement to the day and the speaker spoke about cults, quite to our--well, at least my, surprise.

He was trying to assure us we were not a cult.  Good to know.

Just before the offertory and right after the meditation-non-meditation (part of the circus in town), my phone buzzed.  I looked down and saw it was one of the sites calling.  I turned to the wife and warned her it was show time for her.  Wide eyed and terrified, she loudly whispered her inability to do this part of the service, noting that she had never done any of "this" part.  After seeing her terror, I decided I couldn't do this to her.  I looked at the clock and figured we had about ten minutes to go.  Unless someone was on the ledge of a building, ten minutes would be okay to wait.  I figured if it were a true emergency--not a clogged toilet or a pill dropped on the ground or someone locked out of their apartment--they'd call me right back and then she'd have to take over the ship.  I was playing the odds, making me very sweaty and nervous.

Please, baby Jesus and gods of the Chuck Taylors, be with me and whoever is calling.

I think I may have led the fastest ending to any service in the history of our church.  People are probably still trying to figure out what the hell just happened. WHAM! BAM! POW POW! DONE!

(For the record, the call was about a client with a headache. No one on a ledge. My cure was to have him drink coffee.)

After service, I went downstairs to join in the consumption of the sweets.  I had to stick around for a board meeting, so I couldn't even squeak out after surviving the Service of the Slob. (Does anyone else find it humorous that not only do I get to lead service, I am on the church board? How do things like this happen?  I am the most skeptical member of the congregation and here I am doing things like this.  The baby Jesus has a very good sense of humor.)  I mentioned to one of the regulars about my clothing; her answer was quite fitting: "Well, that's what you look like when you're sitting in church. What difference is it that you'd be at the pulpit wearing the same thing?"

At first, I took this as "it's all good."  After a milli-second, I took this as, "you always look like a slob; why would you not look like a slob? You're a slob."  Ouch.

That said, I will not be changing my wardrobe for church.  I'm sticking with the Slobs for Jesus mentality.

On the way home, the minister called to see how things had gone.  I gave her a quick synopsis, emphasizing that we are not a cult but that the Amish might be.  (I think she swallowed her tongue when I said that. Hey, I'm just the messenger.)  I assured her things were entertainingly fine, adding that she'd never really know what happened as the sound guy did not record one peep of the service (in this case a very good thing).

If this ever happens again, I am gonna tell the organist guy that he has to lead the service and I'll play the organ.  He's always dressed up and knows the order of the service.  No, I don't know how to play an organ.

Details, details.