Adams' Gaze

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Of my many features there are several I would change, specifically my Cyrano-like nose. But if there’s one thing I DO like, it’s my eyes. Because they are my grandfather’s eyes, my mother’s eyes, my sister’s eyes.
They are her eyes.
Cake AND Death, Part I
Trying to plan and execute an event right after Christmas is never a great idea. Scheduling TWO events right after Christmas is not so brilliant, either. In fact, the only thing dumber is thinking you can coherently work on TWO events DURING Christmas while ON VACATION three states away FOR A WEEK. In a house filled with grown brothers, a baby, and a fully stocked liquor cabinet.
Cranking up my workload just before going on the longest Christmas vacation I’ve ever taken is exactly what I did in December. Because this has worked for me so well in the past, and I’ve been such a well-adjusted person while doing it.
To quote my uncle, (who I think was quoting Einstein) “Insanity is the act of repeating the same thing over and over again – and expecting different results.”
Still, I set my jaw and went to work producing two events in the sum total of five weeks – each with a potential attendance of 100 people. Because I am INSANE. And possibly stupid. Definitely lucky. (Like a freakin’ leprechaun.)
Windtree Park Ground Breaking
January 12, 2008
It all started when I went to a Newcastle Parks Commission meeting and they said, ‘we want you to do a ground breaking for this new park, ok?’
‘OK,’ I said, ‘I can do that. Any ideas on what you want it to look like?’
To which they said, ‘it should involve the kids and have toys and be fun.’
And I said, ‘ok.’

So I ordered 200 plastic trucks and shovels and a big pile o’ sand.

nine kinds of cookies, two tents, three speakers and LOTS of hot cocoa;

I slapped Newcastle logo stickers on everything that stood still, and made MORE foofy bows (Really, I’m getting the hang of it now).
but what stressed me out the most was writing the news articles and programs. It was important to inform people about the relevance of the event, but beyond the obvious ‘we’re building a park, people like parks, parks are fun, hooray!’ – I was a bit short on material. Mainly because I wasn’t around when most of it happened.
Turns out, this park is a HUGE deal to the residents of Windtree neighborhood. They’re pretty much the reason it’s getting built at all, having proposed the project and been involved in the development of it every step of the way. The Parks Commission spent a year holding extra meetings with the public. People put a lot of time, opinion and patience into this. When their work was questioned and the funding threatened by a couple of guys who didn’t appear to be involved at all, those people showed up yet again and told those dudes exactly what they thought about that (Oct. 2, 2007 City Council Regular Meeting).
Now THAT’S my kind of community powah. Can I get an ‘AMEN’, my ePeeps?
Here’s a video about the importance of Windtree, in the words of our Parks Commissioners and City Council.
It was a little bit cold and we had a little rain, but we drew a great crowd (about 40 or so) considering Seattle was playing the Divisional Playoffs right then. Everyone had a good time, and the Commission loved the event.
Which is all a crazy-person like me needs, really. Give me great reviews, a nap and a scooby-snack and I’m good to go again.

Me, the Parks Commission, City Council, City Manager, Maiya and a kid just begging for a lamp pole to lick.
Lessons Learned
- Write the phone numbers for everyone you work with and all the VIPs on the back of your lanyard badge. Then toss it. Because you will only need the one number you don’t have. Swear to god, everything was coming together fine. Fifteen minutes after we were supposed to start, we had NO IDEA whether our second speaker had forgotten us, was kid-wrangling and five minutes out, or trapped under a bookcase being held hostage by an angry mongoose. Thankfully, he walked up with his family about thirty seconds after I desperately started dialing 411, crossing my fingers he was listed and I wouldn’t have to barter my liver for his number.
- DO NOT try to make cocoa using donated hot water and individual packets of Swiss Miss. Apparently, caterers do not ‘do’ cocoa. I searched for two damn days for someone who would deliver hot cocoa, because, dude, who has that kind of time? But no. I found NOBODY. So I rented two 100 cup coffee makers and bought 30 boxes of cocoa mix, figuring “1 packet per cup”. Just before the groundbreaking, I dumped six pitchers of hot water into a coffeemaker and started filling 6 pitchers of cocoa mix when Maiya came over, diplomatically asked, ‘Are you SURE that’s right?’, and took over before I gave everyone diabetes. Hey. It made sense TO ME.
Up next in Episode Two: Wait. What Was That? I Said I Was Fine? Excuse Me While I Go Over Here and LOSE MY DAMN MIND.
Who's a Pepper?
Hanging out on the porch after Garry’s funeral, my nephews do what kids do best.
They go on.
Albuquerque, October 2007
The Wii is Dumb and Annoying and Totally Without Social Valu…BLAM!
(Dear readers: Apparently, it’s video week here at Stargazer. Sorry to anyone with a slow connection.)
Trav and I have always been of the camp that thinks the Nintendo Wii is lame and pointless and can’t hold a flame to xBox. Because the graphics? The games? The Asian men? All more than a bit annoying. But mostly, it’s because we love our plasma HD more than air, and hi, have I mentioned what a klutz I am?
HOWEVER.
This morning I was reading my feeds, all nice and calm, when Fake Steve Jobs introduced me to this guy, who picked up a Wii and blew my mind all over the kitchen wall.
Heh. Those are some ROCKIN’ sunglasses. Nice call.
The Gospel According to Gordon
Saturday, January 19th, 2008
approximately 12:15am
Stabbing furtively at the buttons on his xBox controller, Trav’s been on the couch playing Call of Duty 4 for the last five hours. He’s determined to find that zone where he and the game finally ‘click’ – so he can start kicking virtual ass the way he usually does. I’ve been lying next to him the entire time, snuggled in a heavy fleece blanket reading a book with the cat curled in the crook of my knees.
Finished, I close the cover of Lyrics by Sting and hug it to my chest. Trav glances over at me and starts another round. “You like the book?”
Earlier he’d called me while I was schlepping leftover event supplies from my truck into the office. He was killing time at the book store while waiting for an oil change, and wondered would I be at all interested in a collection of Sting’s lyrics?
It was hard to make out exactly what I said as 14 pounds of cake and chicken wings dropped to the floor, but it was something to the effect of, DEAR GOD, MAN, what are you thinking? Winged monkey demons might spring out and spit acid in your eyes just so they can gobble that book right out of your hands. Get it. GET IT NOW.
It’s entirely possible Trav could have come home with stubby wrists. Winged monkey demons despise Sting.
“I LOVE this book.” I closed my eyes and smiled. “This is my bible.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Trav looked at me like I was insane, or that he very clearly hoped I was kidding, and admonished, “but there’s only ONE Bible.”
“Yes,” I agreed, “and this one is MINE.”




