Buffet of Life

On Saturday, Casey and I went to see photographer Baron Wolman give a lecture at the Lawrence Arts Center. The night before we went to look at his exhibit. He is a photographer of many things, but this exhibit focused on his time with Rolling Stone Magazine. Apparently it all started when he was “shooting the shit” with someone about music and was asked to be the photographer in a magazine they were starting – Rolling Stone.

In a time where there weren’t security guards at the front of every concert and also a time where every concert wasn’t put on in a large arena, Baron got to know these musicians. He lived two blocks down from Janis Joplin and got a free one person concert from her in his studio! He photographed Pink Floyd, Jimi Hendrix, The Grateful Dead, Joni Mitchell, Tina Turner, Miles Davis, Rolling Stones, Frank Zappa, and many more.

Post Kanrocksas, Casey and I walked past these pictures, imagining a time when music was much more of an intimate and personal experience than it is today. When Baron was shooting pictures in the late sixties, these bands would be giving free concerts in parks, demonstrating what their music meant to them and what they stood for in the world.

In the lecture, Baron shared his stories and experiences of attending these concerts and photographing musicians in the excitement of the late sixties. At the end, someone asked why he left Rolling Stone Magazine. He stated that he likes to think of life as a buffet. If you spend all your time at the appetizers, you don’t get to experience the steak, the fish, the salads, the desserts. He had taken the same photographs with different faces and was ready to try something new.

I commented to Casey after the lecture that I really liked his shpeal about life being a buffet and the importance of trying new things.

My darling husband replies, “But too much buffet also gives you diarrhea. And I didn’t hear him mention re-marrying or having any kids either. Its just a different way to experience the buffet.”

Its nice to have a partner who adds humor to my life, keeps me grounded, and reminds me of all the wonderful things I already have to enjoy. Thanks Case. I won’t partake in too much of the buffet.

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Mars Needs Moms

It’s Sunday morning at 11. I’ve already been up for several hours. James and I played cars and trucks, made breakfast, went to the store, and ate a watermelon snack.

I am now watching my second movie of the day. James and I started with Toy Story. When we went to the store, we got Mars Needs Moms and The Green Hornet. Now James is falling asleep on the floor, Miles is curled up in a blanket on the couch and Casey and I are enjoying a very relaxing movie day.

All I can say about the movie so far is that it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy about being a mom and having boys. I love being a mom. Especially to boys.

I spent Friday on the driveway with James making cornstarch ooze, stirring, pouring, squishing, and laughing. Miles walked home with a friend to spend the night. They played Call of Duty and Mass Effect 2 all night, had Nerf wars, and maybe got 4 hours of sleep.

When we picked him up, he sat next to James and read him a story. They smiled and laughed together. It’s nice to see them love each other and spontaneously do things together to make one another happy. It made me smile.

I love my boys. I love being a mom. If only Mars had moms. They make everything better.

Great Grandpa Clyde

Its usually the little things we remember about people.

I remember rocks – specifically bolo ties and rock clocks. And of course the camper/trailer in the driveway that we grand-kids used as a toy and my grandpa used when he took the family on rock hunting adventures.

I also remember walking to my great-grandparents’ house after 1/2 days of school for lunch. We would read the daily devotional out loud, eat together, and watch the birds at their bird feeder. After lunch we would either help ourselves to to the toys in their hall closet (usually Bibleopoly or the infamous, very loud marble game) or we would wander back to the rock shop to peruse the new gems and watch my grandpa work or organize his merchandise.

He was always kind to us grandchildren. I remember his smile and I remember it vividly when he held my first son at Christmas and when he hugged me at my wedding. He had the kind of smile that made his eyes squint.

A while back there was a garage sale at my grandparents’ old house. I grabbed a few trinkets that had sentimental value or that I figured the boys would enjoy. One of these was a hat.

Apparently my grandpa had a small enough head that it fit my children perfectly. Miles often enjoyed this hat for dress-up days or goofing off days here at the house, usually paired with the bolo tie.

Now James has discovered this hat and he wore it practically all day yesterday. My grandpa did not get to meet James, but there are little moments throughout time that make me think of my grandpa and how much he would enjoy being with my children.

I can’t help but picture him smiling at the thought of his great-grandchildren getting so much joy out of his hat.

Love you, grandpa.

Ode to Dadas and Papas

There’s something to be said about Dadas and Papas.

Maybe its the afternoon snooze.

Or the walk to the park.

Just enjoying one another,

Talking about the world

And the cute girls that walk by,

Reading books and being goofy.

There’s an unspoken bond

That sure puts a smile on my face.

There’s nothing like a Dada or a Papa.

Small Town Discoveries

In our Colorado travels, we like to find the small non-tourist towns with quirks and off-the-beaten-path treasures.

This year we came across Minturn, near Vail but definitely not a resort town. We drove in to a yellow restaurant with a mustache painted on the side, and then parked by Turntable Restaurant with small town 50s charm. It sure made me wish we hadn’t just stopped at McDonald’s.

 

Even the saloon and bike shop had a nice small town feel to them.

The buildings were bright and the people were friendly.

It was one of those towns that if your car broke down, you wouldn’t mind getting stuck there.