Fannee Doolee

The Sun'll Come Out Tomorrow

Thanks for the encouraging words, folks.  Now seems like as good a time as any for a little optimism!  Last weekend, I took Logan, Kiki and An to their first Broadway musical - a non-equity touring production of Annie.  Logan and Kiki did very well through the first act, and only got a little restless after the Starburst ran out.  Kiki spent most of the second act on the floor underneath my seat, but when as we exited the theatre and walked back to our car, she sang out "Tomorrow, Tomorrow!  I love you, tomorrow!" the whole way.

Here are a few unauthorized photos I managed to discretely snap:

Ah - the lovely Boylen Sisters!

I don't need anything but you!  And this big mansion . . . and dozens of servants . . . and this crazy red wig . . .

True Confessions

Alternate title:  Starting to lay some old ghosts to rest.

Sometime in my first two years of practice, a client asked to have a collections letter sent to one of its franchise owners who owed the client about $12,000 - small change to this client, but they said it was the principle of the thing.  It was not my or my firm's usual line of work, but the client wanted it done, so the task was delegated to lowly associate me.  I sent the letter and followed up with a phone call.  The woman who answered said that the owner didn't deny the debt - he just didn't have the money.  Could they pay a few hundred each month?  The client wasn't interested.  They just wanted a judgment against the guy, so again, I filed the papers and got the judgment.

A while later, I happened to drive by the location of the franchise.  It was in an area of Columbus that had been immersed in deep road construction for months.  The debtor's store front was barely visible behind all the equipment and orange barrels.  No wonder, I thought.

The client never asked us to pursue collecting on the judgment, but months later, I got a letter from the franchise owner - his name was Fred - I got a letter from Fred's estate.  Fred committed suicide shortly after I filed a judgment entry against him on the debt.

I have lived with this knowledge for three years or so now. Sure, I feel bad about it, but it's never been a source of debilitating sadness.  I can rationalize it as well as anyone.  This man's - Fred's - problems were due to more than just his debt to my client.  If it hadn't been me, it would have been some other lowly associate.  I just did what the client wanted - if anyone should feel guilty, it's the client.   

I'm not sure why I'm inspired today to tell about this.  Perhaps it's due to my recent change in perspective, or my consideration of different directions for the future.  Whatever the reason, I do know that it's important for me to share and it's particularly important and appropriate for the content of this blog. 

I mainly write for one audience - my children, when they read this ten or fifteen or so years from now.  For this reason, I often decline to blog on every little unpleasant anecdote, challenge or bad day - not that I'm trying to paint an unrealistically rosy picture, but I want my children to be able to appreciate what was important about this time in our lives.  This is important.  Although it is a difficult story for me to tell, I hope that it helps my children realize that they should never doubt their own principles. 

Being a good person and doing what's right is something I want you to do naturally, instinctively.  The best way to do that is to be true to yourself and trust in your own sense of what's right.  Sometimes it will be hard to listen to your own voice, and all too easy to just do what you're told.  Don't make the same mistake I did.

Had I listened to my own conscience instead of doing what the client told me to do, would Fred be alive today?  Maybe not.  Maybe nothing would have turned out any differently for Fred.  But things certainly would have turned out differently for me. 

The Third (Fourth)

"So, which aunt are you talking about now?"

"The one in California - my mother's youngest sister.  We call her the Eighth."

"Because she's the youngest of eight kids?"

"Well, not exactly.  See, in Vietnam, the first is called the Second, and so on.  So, my mother is the second, but we call her the Third, and my aunt who lives in France is the third, but we call her the Fourth." 

I guess that makes more sense than calling them all Mai?

The Nutcracker Prince Rock

Alternate Title:  Exhibit A in support of certain statements made in my About Me Page. 

Someone special has a birthday today . . .

Let's all give a big FD Happy B'day shout out to my home boy, Bobby Ritchie, aka KID ROCK, seen here with me in our sixth grade production of The Nutcracker Prince.  Notably, our limited press coverage for that performance did not include any mention of beer, fake boobs, video recordings or property damage:

Other People's Song Lyrics

Ok, normally I wouldn't do this, but since my other options for post content are not that appealing right now, I'm actually going to post some pop song lyrics on my blog.  The first is for the song Listen from the Dreamgirls soundtrack, which has been going through my head since Sunday when I first saw the movie (if you have not seen Dreamgirls yet, drop what you are doing and go see it.  Now.):

Listen to the song here in my heart
a melody I start but can't complete

Listen to the sound from deep within
Its only beginning to find release

Ohh the time has come for my dreams to be heard
They will not be pushed aside and turned
Into your own, all 'cause you won't listen

[chorus]
Listen
I am alone at a crossroads
I'm not at home in my own home
And I've tried and tried
To say whats on my mind
You should have known
Now I'm done believing you
You don't know what I'm feeling
I'm more than what
You've made of me
I followed the voice, you gave to me
But now I've gotta find my own
You should have listened

There was someone here inside
Someone I thought had died
So long ago
Oh I'm screaming out
And my dreams will be heard
They will not be pushed Aside or turned
Into your own

All 'cause you won't listen

I don't know where I belong
But I'll be moving on
If you don't, if you won't

Listen to the song here in my heart
A melody I start, but I will complete

Now I am done believing you
You don't know not what I am feeling
I'm more than what you've made of me
I followed the voice you think you gave to me

But now I got to find my own - my own

Of course, it's much more powerful listening to Beyonce sing it.  . . . I can't believe I actually just wrote that, but I can't deny that I absolutely disintegrated in the movie theatre during the scene where Beyonce's Deena Jones/Diana Ross character sings this song to her husband, Curtis/Berry Gordy Jr., who is trying to make her star in this god-awful Cleopatra film . . .

OK, the next one comes from an e-mail I just got from my mom (see where I get it from?) for the song Who I Am by Jessica Andrews:

If I live to be a hundred
And never see the seven wonders
That'll be alright
If I don't make it to the big leagues
If I never win a Grammy
I'm gonna be just fine
'Cause I know exactly who I am

I am Rosemary's granddaughter
The spitting image of my father
And when the day is done
My momma's still my biggest fan
Sometimes I'm clueless and I'm clumsy
But I've got friends who love me
And they know just where I stand
It's all a part of me
And that's who I am

So when I make big mistake
When I fall flat on my face
I know I'll be alright
Should my tender heart be broken
I will cry those teardrops knowin'
I will be just fine
'Cause nothin' changes who I am

I'm a saint and I'm a sinner
I'm a loser, I'm a winner
I'm am steady and unstable
I am young but I'm able

I am Rosemary's granddaughter
The spitting image of my father
And when the day is done
My momma's still my biggest fan
Sometimes I'm clueless and I'm clumsy
But I've got friends who love me
And they know just where I stand
It's all a part of me
And that's who I am

Now, the ironic thing about this is that I really do have a grandmother named Rosemary.  What are the chances of that?  And at times, you could say I'm the spitting image of my father, although I hear I look alot like my mother, at least with straight hair.   But the rest of the song couldn't be truer. 

Morning Ride

Alternate title:  When all else fails, post some poem I wrote during my college years/circa 1993:

Oh, the joys of being self-propelled! Cause and effect, pedals pumping, I am so aware of my force against the ground. Voices and cars fade as I tune to the frequency of my inner machines.

Cause and effect, and some sense of control as I weave past obstacles. Avoiding cars as I cut across roads, choosing my path hastily as I approach every corner. Still feeling the air moving in and around me.

A horn protests, a curb approaches too fast! I am suddenly reminded of my connection to the ground. Sweat and spit and a few tears (from the wind) are wiped away, along with tiny, smattered bug corpses from my forehead. The wind beacons, my bike rights itself, and I ride on.

Cause and effect, air still moving in and around me, I see houses, dogs, cars, children, my own legs as they pump up and down. Passing images turn to thoughts:

A dead squirrel—a baby crying

Tires spinning—a Ferris wheel

A playground—skinned knees

Being lost and alone, awakening at night from a bad dream and being unable to scream.

And birds—I am instantly aware only of their song. From everywhere they cry, calling and whistling. I become propelled by their rising chorus.

And death, to you I say, let me be for a while yet. I do not fear you—your close company keeps me awake.

And life, to you I say, let me be lost in you completely. Surrounded by all that is and is not, I am kept warm.

For life and death, these two being the only real companions anyone can really have.

For we are all in the same company of our utter loneliness

Of our separation by words and languages

Of our distancing from our child-mind

Of our moving into and away from grace.

For life and death, these two being one, and I being all and nothing in the blinking eye of the morning sun.

Great Performances

It's been a weekend of great music.  Friday night we got to hear Common Thread and friends sing at the "new" old local watering whole.  (I even got to be one of the "friends" and performed a few standards with a way-too-talented pianist/composer who co-wrote this musical and who also attends our church - I'm not worthy!!!)  Saturday night, we experienced a new "contemporary" style service at church with more fabulous music by the aformentioned too talented friends, and through it all, Logan and Kiki continue to perfect their own musical talents:

They've come such a long way . . .

Cold Turkey

Even though I made no New Year's resolutions for myself for 2007, I made one for Kiki. After several episodes of frantically searching for her binky, which she can't seem to keep in her mouth for more than ten seconds, or keep from wanting every thirty, I decided it was time for binky to "go up to the moon."

We've made it through THREE WHOLE NIGHTS already. The first night was the toughest-for her anyway. She was pretty much paralyzed with shock. When Patrick went to check on her in the middle of the night, she was sitting silently in her crib, tears streaming down her face. Patrick asked her if she'd had a bad dream.  She said yes.  He asked  her what it was about.  She replied, "My binky!"

The next two nights were harder for us-she screamed, cried, howled, scratched and wailed like a junky going through withdrawal. Tonight, she'll be at Grandpa and Grandma's house. Good luck with that.

One accessory too many. 

Perspective

 

It's all in how you look at things.

On the Edge of Seventeen

Cake, originally uploaded by Fannee Doolee.

Somebody special has a birthday today . . . . Click on the photo above to see An's birthday celebration, which we held on New Year's Day. What a way to start the year!