On a serious note....

L-R: Kasey, Me and Machel

I am not one to bum everyone out, but my dear friend Machel has had a very life changing weekend. On Saturday, while on a scenic motorcycle ride with her husband, they were in a head on collision. Her wonderful husband, Tim, was killed at the scene. She is fighting for her life at the University of Utah. Her poor body is bruised and broken (in many spots) and she has had a bunch of internal bleeding, but her brain scans have been very positive so far (thankfully).

Machel was my boss when I worked for the county. She has the best attitude and understanding when it comes to people and situations. She was always the one you would go to when you had any sort of problem. I feel very fortunate that I was able to work with her (I learned so much from her) and happy that I still have a relationship with her. She is a very cherished friend and all my thoughts and prayers are going to her and her family. Get well soon, we have a lunch date in November and you better be there! Love ya!

(Sorry to start off the week with that... I promise, that since there has been positive reports on her progress, I will try to be chipper with my other posts.)

Ringo Winston Mocha

The saddest part of having a dog is the part I went through yesterday. I got Ringo as a present for my 16th birthday. (I said I would rather have a dog than a car.  Thanksfully, my dad let me have both) He was 13 years old.  At his peak, he weighed  a whopping 130 pounds.  He was a good dog, except when it thundered. He hated the thunder. And he hated the hair dryer because I scarred him as a puppy when I tried to use it to dry him after a bath.  Oh and he hated bathes too and would run away from them.  But he loved to swim especially in rivers.  He loved to go on trips.  He loved, I mean, LOVED french bread. (That is what he went after when he nipped at my niece and scarred her eyebrow).  He really loved Watermelon and was the only dog that I knew that would eat it off of a fork.  Ringo, buddy you will be missed. We love you! 

Ghosts of the past

With all the new technology in the world,  it is hard to get away from the past.  Facebook, twitter, blogs, myspace... hard to forget with all the ways to be sucked back into it.  Why is it that high school could be such a dreary time in most people's life, but they will add people from that time as "friends" on facebook.   I know I could simply ignore them or block them, but I feel bad on some level, like I should be nice to some of the people that were less than nice to me.  There are times when it is great to touch base with actual friends, people who you did hang out with and simply lost track of over time. But the ones that were less than nice, or the relationship ended on a bad note, those are the ones that I think about later and wonder "why did I accept their friendship?" Is there a point in time where you should just forgive and forget when it comes to the past. I am the type of person to play things over and over again in my head. I think that some how if  I would have reacted differently, that it would have been a better/different/final outcome.  If I were to say, "block" the new friend, would that say something about me and how I feel about my past?  Or would it simply say that I am still living in high school?  And let me give the disclaimer that my life, as with most peoples, is FAR better now than it was way back when. I have a loving husband, a great dog and a wonderful life. I wouldn't change anything for what I have now.   I just sometime wonder if it wouldn't be better if the ghosts of the past would seriously just stay there. 

A stroll down memory lane

Bob, Bruce, Grant, Zum, Moto, Harold

After reliving the good ol' days of my dad's shop, (I am only 28 and, yes, I can have good ol days) my "old men" were brought up. I haven't talked about them because I have held them so near and dear to my heart. They were my voice of reason in my early 20s. I was a faithful member of coffee break every morning and some days the lunch group too. The main group was made up of Harold (the unofficial leader), Grant (the side kick), Bob (the rock), and Zum (the "quiet" one). There were a few others along the way (Lee, Bruce, and Jerry), but those were the main people that came around every week. It was like having 5 different uncles/grandpas that you respected and loved. Their antidotes were the things that kept me awake at 8:00 in the morning while drinking a cup of mediocre coffee. Harold had great stories about stealing rations of beets (or some veggie) and getting into trouble. He was the king of Trouble. Any time I picture any cute little proud veteran I immediately think of Harold and his proud cap that had embroidered on it, "3 War Veteran". Grant was a lifelong "Railroad" man. After he retired he ended up selling real estate. Bob was the lifelong bachelor. He had lived on his own his whole life (when I started coming to break he was well into his 80's). He was the one that took care of the garden my dad had around the back of his shop. I wish I had video of his strut... you could tell in his hey day, he was probably a ladies man. And Zum was the so called quiet one. He was a car-guy like my dad. He wasn't ever the center of attention, but he always at least one good zinger that made every body bust up laughing. Every morning, they met up at 8:00 at the same restaurant. If one of them couldn't make it because of a doctor's appointment or some other pressing matter, there was a short discussion to pay respect to the missing member, but coffee break would move on to other topics of the day.

Of course there were stories of the good-ol' days and who was sick/dying/dead from the area, but they also were the a great window into the "old school" way of thinking. At our breakfast joint there were a few lesbians that worked there. I can not tell you how many times I was told (in a not very quiet tone because some of them were hard of hearing) that they were "LESS-BEE-ANS and how they couldn't understand how someone so cute could be a "LESS-BEE-AN. They told me I just needed to find a husband and settle down (even though they knew that i wouldn't be the quiet wife type).

They were also my mirror for any situation I was in. The reflection I got from being at that table when I presented anything helped me realize what the correct answer was. Any boyfriend (including my future husband) during that time, had to meet my old men and "pass" the unofficial test. Whenever I decided to move out of state, which was often, I had to run it past the guys. Not many 20 year olds have such a great support system.

It all eventually came to an end. After I got married, I had one more great year with them, and then they all passed away rather quickly with in about 7 months of each other. While they have been gone for almost 5 years, not a day goes by where I don't hear them all in my head laughing about a decision I have made or shouting out advice to guide me in my every day life. And when I go to coffee now (admittedly more rarely now) the players in the coffee break 2.0 pale in comparison to the men that once occupied those seats.

The truth comes out....

For years, my dad was a mechanic in his own business. (he sold his building in 2003 and has been semi-retired ever since). One of his good friend/old customers came across a couple of reviews for his business.  They were on the website for the NPR show, Cartalk, under their Mechanic's File. On that page, they have recommendations for "great, honest, hard-working mechanics."  I am so proud of him and the business reputation he created for himself over the years. Way to go, Dad! (oh and by the way, I am happy about the fact that someone else witnessed the fact that my dad wasn't happy about fixing my car!) :) 

Actual Quotes from the reviews: 

Moto, the only mechanic working at Moto's Car Care, is the only man I know who will not only help you when you call him at home on the weekend, he does it with a smile and a cheerful laugh (unless of course you are his daughter, then the laugh sounds a little bit more like a grumble!) He is the only person I know who will take you under his wing and make you feel welcome in his shop (there are about 5-6 older retired gentlemen who happen to be his better friend. They hang out at coffee and they go out to lunch.) He is not someone who will rip you off, (I know this because his favorite motto is What goes around comes around!) Everyone thinks that he is the greatest there is (even the local paper, The Standard Examiner, said so if you don't believe me!)

--reviewer #26626, 2001

I hate getting my car repaired. In the past I have come away with the vague feeling that I got taken advantage of because of my ignorance. Not so with Moto. He is extremely honest, once simply tightening a loose bolt for me when that was all that was wrong. (No charge of course.) I have no hesitation in recommending his shop. My only complaint is that he does not (ironically enough) work on Japanese cars.

--reviewer #28377, 2001