A Momentous Decision

For weeks I've been thinking about it. Little by little I've been cutting back - I went from 57 to 43. All the hours I've spent reading stuff, looking at pictures and videos - and playing Scrabble! Holy Mackerel (it is Friday, after all.) Then there was all the discussion of information usage and privacy issues. And all the political stands and statements. I found I was more irritated than entertained. So this evening, April 30th, 2010 at 8:28pm MDT I deactivated my Facebook account.

It was a very good thing during the long siege scouring the internet job search wasteland, filling out online applications, doing assessment tests, emailing resumes and cover letters - and never hearing anything from anybody other than automated acknowledgements of receipt of said materiel. Facebook was a place I could go to hang out with friends. It was a great solace during those long days.

Now, however, I'm going to the theatre every day, leaving at 7:00am and returning home at around 6:00pm.There is some packing for the move that needs to happen. In about a month, people will begin to gather for that most momentous occasion, Carmen's Ordination (y'all come!) Moments after that's over, I'll be loading up the truck and driving my tools to Pennsylvania, where I already have more friends than I've made in New Mexico, looking for a job and finishing the house before the motherload arrives. As much as I'll miss my 43 Facebook friends, I won't have much time to dwell on it.

I think the big turning point came when I posted a picture of Snake Boy holding up his seven foot rattlesnake skin. I was expecting dozens of comments. There were three. Meanwhile, I was emailing it to my Facebook-free dad, and I decided to just go ahead and email it to the whole address book, many of whom are on FB. I got more comments from that mailing than from the FB crowd. "Hmmm," I said, "Why am I spending so much time there?" Ever since then I've been going back and forth between doing another friend purge, and simply purging my own damn self. Today I decided on the latter.

Peaceful Easy Feelin'

Carmen flew in right on time Monday. We hauled the really big suitcase and the new super giganto suitcase to the car, drove home and hauled them into the house. Carmen took a short nap, took a long post-11 hours in airports and airplanes shower, and we went to the church staff going away party for Ron, the Associate Minister here who might be going to the UU Church of Jacksonville, Florida. The party was at a small, dingy bowling alley on the east side.

The senior minister was there, and she was asking me about Meadville and the house we're buying. I gave her as complete an account as it is possible for me without writing it down. So the next day she said to Carmen that I seemed much more at ease than she's ever seen me. When confronted about this, I came to the conclusion that I am more at ease now that I know a) that we have a firm destination; b) where that destination is and c) approximately when we're going.

Of course the plan has changed several times this week, but the latest plan is that I will rent a small truck for the cats, my tools, my computer and some other stuff we don't trust the movers to move. I will leave in time to get to Meadville ten days after closing on the house, when the sellers are contracted to be out. I will assess the attic conversion project to ascertain what else is needed, buy stuff at Home Depot before returning the truck, and get to work. The goal will be to have the room ready for the honkin' heavy adjustable beds before the movers carry them off of the truck. As my old friend Mr. Charles Edward Channell would say, "It's gonna be close!"

The Life Of The Wife

Being the wife of Carmen M. Emerson is a good life. No matter what's going on, there's always something interesting and challenging to do. Of course, the latest and greatest challenge has been making public appearances with her, without embarrassing her. Colby Landers said it best. I told him we were going to Meadville to meet the whole congregation and to impress them favorably. "And she's taking you?!!!" he said.

They seemed to like me. For one thing, there's a large contingent of the congregation that is involved with the community theatre, and they are courting me big time. The Properties Team, that does repairs and maintenance for the church, has already signed me up. The choir is counting on another tenor. And of course, most importantly, I have a repertoire of "new" casseroles to introduce to their "6:59er" pot luck suppers.

Buying a house in Meadville - or anywhere else, for that matter, is a portion of pastry when the Rev. is a former real estate law firm receptionist turned secretary turned closing agent turned paralegal and office manager. She tells me what to pay, I pay it; she tells me to sign it, I sign it. Easy peasy Japaneasy. As a corollary, when we move into the house, she tells me what ceiling fan to install and where, I install it; she tells me what she wants in a built-in bookcase, I build it; she tells me what plants to plant and where, I plant them - you get the idea.

Now that the Meadville congregation has finally officially called her, now that we know that we're moving and where and when, it's all just a matter of getting the job done. Benny Van Buren sang it best: "Ain't nothin' to it but to do it." It's a good life.

Chestnut Street

Meadville, Pennsylvania was founded in 1766, after George Washington ran the French out of there. The UU Church of Meadville was established in 1825. Its new building, built in (I think) 1836, is on Chestnut street, right on "The Diamond," an oval-shaped town square. I guess about ten churches are clustered around The Diamond.

Up the road (and it's all uphill) is the house we have a contract on. Seven addresses listed in the church directory are on Chestnut, and we're not listed yet. The congregational meeting is this Sunday, the 18th, and they are voting on whether or not to call Rev. Carmen as their next settled minister. If things go as well for her the rest of the week, they'll call her for sure. Of course, we all know what a treasure she is. The only person who doesn't know is Carmen.

It's nice to be home, back in the cat juggling saddle again. And I now have a great new Rand McNally to write - tomorrow!

He's Dead, Jim!

We had a lovely Easter yesterday, beginning with the sunrise service at 6:45am. Carmen somehow - she doesn't remember how - got shanghaied into playing guitar during the service, and accompanying the singing of "Morning Has Broken," "Spirit of Life" and "This Little Light Of Mine" by the fifty-some congregants who came to watch the sun rise over the Sandia Mountains. Some yummy breakfast burritos were available for sale afterward, and then we set up for the two Family Services in the Social Hall. Moving tables and chairs around, that's what church is supposed to be all about.

All in all, there were six church services at the First Unitarian Church of Albuquerque yesterday, which I think is a lot considering that most of the attendees do not believe that the dead guy became undead. I guess going to church on the first Sunday after the first full moon after the vernal equinox to celebrate a holiday that is all about bunnies, eggs and flowers - but has nothing whatsoever to do with fertility - is a habit we can't break. Anyway, diluting the 700+ members of the Albuquerque church by six services made each one manageable, unlike the SRO crowds we used to get in Orlando.

So we were there from 6:15am until 2:00pm. Carmen co-officiated the family services while the grown-up services were going on in the sanctuary at 9:30 and 11:00. I attended one of each, family and grown-up. The "Contemporary Service" (during which the band plays music from 40 to 50 years ago) had all three ministers and the Director of Religious Education involved. I took a contemporary nap.

We got to come home and relax for a couple of hours after church and before going to the house of Kathy, the chair of Carmen's Intern Committee, for a very yummy dinner with her Brady Bunch family.

The next entertainment was setting the GPS to guide us home, and realizing she still thought "home" was in Watertown, Massachusetts! Good thing we didn't just blindly follow her directions or we'd be in Arkansas by now.