The Last Lecture

I am beginning a new book today.  It is called The Last Lecture.  The man in it has been given only a short period to live.  He has a wife and three young children.  He gave a lecture at his college and wrote this book for his children as they grow older.  They were all very young, probably too young to understand the loss, but he didn’t want to be forgotten, so he wrote too them.

With all the worries we let creep into our midst how can we learn to just enjoy the day?  I often hear people say, “Live for the moment!  Don’t worry about tomorrow, with it comes a whole new set of worries!” 

But I find it hard to live every minute like it’s my last, presumably because it’s not.  I find it hard to remember to enjoy every second, because it might be my last.  I wish I could.  I might have to add that to my twenty wishes and work hard on it.



I erupted in a huge argument yesterday at work over rules.  One of the guys I work with says he gives up on all this crap.  People should be able to do what ever they want.

The thing that really set me off was when he said that it’s not that big of a deal that Miss California posed for less than tasteful photos when she was younger.  He said who cares!  It was on her own time, before she was famous.  And furthermore he said we as a society just need to get used to the fact that #1 sports figures are going to use drugs and #2 beautiful women are going to pose for pictures.  WHAT!

Are you kidding me!  We have to embrace that and except it as the “norm” now?  I don’t think so! 

Then he went on to say look at this teenage boy who went to prom with his girlfriend and got into trouble.  He shouldn’t be in trouble either.  This is where I got ugly.  I think I even slammed my hand on the table.

My comment with blazing eyes and heart pounding out of my chest came as a shout.  What happened to following the rules?  Why can’t anyone just follow the rules anymore?  It’s in the rules that sports figures do not do drugs.  It’s in the rules that Miss America not take her clothes off for a camera.  It was in the rules of that teenagers school not to dance, hold hands or listen to rock and roll music.  He likely broke three rules not just one.  And his step father says we will be taking this to court!  That is ridiculous!  What are we teaching our kids?  If we don’t like the rules just break them and then we will take it to court and show how wrong they were and right we were.  If the people do not agree with the rules of the school then why are they letting their kids go there in the first place? 

Give me a break people!  We need to start evaluating our morals and inner workings.  Things are getting out of hand in a rapid pace and I don’t like where it is going.

Zuba pants, ratted hair and Aqua Net!

What do all of those things have to do with anything you ask?  Well if you went to high school in the late 80’s you do not have to ask.  If you didn’t here is a little story about my first cassette.

I found in the Writers Digest how you can write about your first album, but you must have to be a member to submit, because I couldn’t find where to complete it.  So I decided to share it here!  It may make you, 1. smile because you know what I am talking about 2. laugh because you think I am way out there or 3. roll your eyes because you think I am the biggest dork ever! 

Well I have news for you I wasn’t alone in that weight room!  It was packed with 7th – 12th graders all getting along and all listening to the same music.  Very cool I think!

The first cassette tape I ever bought with my own money was Vanilla Ice – Ice Ice Baby!  Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I remember exactly how I felt.  I was in the seventh grade attending Lake of the Woods high school. 
I was working with my mom at a resort cleaning cabins on Saturdays.  I received my pay and we stopped at a gas station on the way home. 
I saw it…I grabbed it…I purchased it! 
Without a second thought of what else I could purchase with that hard earned money I paid $9.99 for the cassette.  I was so proud and excited! 
The older kids would play that song blaring loud in the weight room after lunch and we would all jam out.  I remember the Zuba pants, and ratted hair like it was yesterday.  Man I miss my long ratted hair!  The smell of aqua net and sweaty boys hung in the air, but no one seemed to mind.
Today I still feel the same way when I hear it.  I remember almost all of the words and it brings me back to sitting on the seat of that rowing machine moving my head back and forth to the beat.  What a great time that was!