In Perspective

You know how you've got those friends on Facebook--the ones from high school who maybe you weren't all that close with. You knew them, they knew you. Maybe you were in some classes together. Maybe you were both in the band. But you ran in different circles. Nothing mean about it, that's just how it was. But, because your town was small and your high school was small and you pretty much went to school with the same people from kindergarten on, you knew each other. But after high school, you didn't keep in touch. And maybe you saw each other at the ten year reunion and said hi and caught up a bit, but it was mostly because of the shared and awkward feeling of somehow simultaneously knowing and not knowing one another, not because you were trying to deepen your friendship. And then, another ten years went by, and you went to the twenty year reunion, but you didn't really hang out much doing reunion-y type stuff because you had family committments and kids, etc. Did you see this friend at the twentieth reunion? You can't remember. But then Facebook came along, and all of the sudden, you were friending and being friended by people who you had to go to your yearbook to remember: "Oh yeah! I remember him! He sat behind me in English. But didn't he move away our junior year?" You know what I'm talking about.

And some of these new/old friends you got closer to and communicated with more than you ever had in high school, and you wondered, "Why in the hell weren't we closer? She's really cool!" And you saw what life had done to them. Maybe they were heavier. Or gray-headed. Maybe they were divorced with kids in college while yours was in elementary school. Maybe they still lived in your hometown or in Switzerland or Kentucky. You began to learn if they're really religious or Republican. Or both. Or neither. You saw vacation pictures and Christmas trees. You had these glimpses into their lives and wondered if they were looking at your posts and pictures too.

My friend Wendy is one of these people. We were not close in high school, but she has become my friend through Facebook. And right now, she is lying in her bed, receiving hospice care because this time--her second time dealing with breast cancer--she is losing her battle. I have gotten to know Wendy over the past few years like I never knew her when we were growing up. She has two adorable children. She loves John Waite and Motley Crue. She likes wacky hair color and funky glasses. And she is, more than anything, a fighter.

She may never know how much getting to know her--having our silly Facebook conversations over the past couple of years--has meant to me. To know someone with so much to live for who has been working every day for years to persevere in the face of terrifying odds humbles you. I am honored to now call this brave woman my friend.

Thank you, Wendy. You are one of the most courageous people I've ever known.

Taco Salad With Vegan Chorizo and a Side of Blogging

Yes, it's lunch time.That means I'll be shoving food into my pie hole in between sentences. Feel free to imagine that lovliness if you'd like to.

Spring break has come and gone. And for those of us in Austin, that means that the craziness that is South-by-Southwest has also drawn to a close. Once again this year I managed to miss out on all things SXSW except for the traffic and close encounters with hipsters that one must endure when she works downtown. However, now that I'm on Twitter (and there were jillions of SXSW-related twees during the week), it was hard not to feel left out of the party. I keep vowing I'll save up and purchase a badge one of these years so that I can go to all of the crazy music stuff I want to. But I'll believe it when I see it.

This past weekend, The Geej and I got the helloutta town and went on a long-overdue trip to the Pine Curtain. The purpose? To see my good friend Lisa and her nearly-four-year-old son, Henry. We also got to see my (very elderly) relatives, Aunt Mary Lois and Uncle Ray. Seriously, I have no idea how old these two are. They've got to be almost 90 if not already there. They've been married since 1940, and they're super sweet. They're also hardcore Pentecostal, but not too hardcore to have a T.V. in the bedroom turned on to Fox News 24/7. And they don't let their Christianity get in the way of their extreme racism either. I kept having to steer the conversation away from how much trouble "The Mexicans" and that "Black President" are causing. After all, there WAS a 6 yr. old in the room. But that's just how they are. I accept and love them even though I don't agree with them.

It is so beautiful up in east Texas right now. Dogwoods, azaleas and redbuds are blooming everywhere. And the TREES! I just don't realize how much I miss those tall pines until I'm standing in the middle of them.

But rather than let me ramble on and on about our trip, let's look at some pictures:

A statue of one of my favorite country and western performers, Lefty Frizzell, in Corsicana, TX.

The Geej taking advantage of some monkey bars at the park where the Lefty statue was located.

This AWESOME kids' park/playscape under the pines in Longview.

The Rangerette Museum in Kilgore. Every single time I try to go here (there's a pic of my grandmother in there that I want to see), it's closed. This time, it was closed for spring break. Sigh.

Classic East Texas Helmet Hair. If you're over 65 and NOT sporting this 'do within Gregg County, you WILL be talked about.

And there they are: Henry and The Geej. Just couldn't be any damn cuter.

Alas, my salad is finished and work beckons. Soon, internets. Soon...

Can't post. Too tired.

The full 20 year reunion recap post will come tomorrow.

For now, there's this:

BTW: The Pirates' undefeated season ended on Friday. The Henderson Lions whooped 'em.

Ye Olde High School Reunion.

Yep. The big 20 yr.high school reunion is this weekend. Good LORD, how did I get this old? It seems like just yesterday that I was making out with Kyle Gilbreath while wearing my mortar board on graduation night, sitting on the curb in front of my house, drunk as hell. Jesus H. Christ.

And to top it all off, I'm going to my high school reunion with--gasp--a guy I went to high school with!! And I'm in LOVE with him!! I swear to you, truth is much weirder than fiction could ever be.

So our weekend basically looks like this:

Tomorrow, Mr. Wonderful and his boys fly to Dallas. His mom and step-dad live in NW Dallas, so they'll come and pick them up and they'll all go to his mom's house. Meanwhile, Geej, Dah and I will drive to NE Dallas to my Aunt and Uncle's house. The Geej ADORES them...and their dog...and their swimming pool...so she's looking very forward to the trip. After hanging out for a while, I'll leave and go to NW Dallas to rendezvous with Mr. Wonderful, et. al. That's where we'll spend the night.

Friday, Mr. W. and I will drive to Longview. We're staying at his dad's house just outside of town. We're supposed to be going to the high school football game with a bunch of our classmates that night (it's actually an organized reunion activity, including a tailgating party beforehand). I know it sounds dorky, but I'm actually looking forward to this a lot. I was a big ol' band geek through most of high school (French horn/flag corps...it doesn't get much dorkier than that, my friends), and football games were a HUGE part of my life during that time. Plus, there's something quite charming about the whole "Friday Night Lights" thing in small town Texas. There are some planned "activities" after the game, but I have no idea what we we'll end up doing.

Saturday we're just going to hang out. Probably go see some of my (elderly) family. Saturday night we'll be skipping the "gala" part of the reunion, and instead hang out with Mr. W's brother and sister-in-law, something I'm looking very forward to.

Sunday, we'll head back to Dallas where we'll pick up my mom and Geej at my aunt and uncle's house. Then the four of us will head back to Mr. W's mom's house for a late lunch. Then mom, the Geej and I will depart for Austin.

Yes, I'm taking Monday off.

So anyway, I won't be blogging for a few days, but I'm sure I'll have plenty o' photos and tales to tell when I return.
Yes, I was in "Young Repbulicans." Don't hate... It was the Pine Curtain, after all.

1972. Longview, Texas.

Hi, Internets. Thought you might find this little treasure from Karla May's Never-ending Collection of Crap from her Past interesting.

It's the text to an article--artfully crafted by one Jimmy Brown--from a 1972 edition of the Longview News-Journal. All of the crappy writing, crummy punctuation and other fuckups are Jimmy's, not mine. Apparently the News-Journal was lacking a copy editor when this story made the paper.

Turning out highly precision aircraft parts on a complex, incredibly difficult to operate turret lathe where tolerances are figured in thousands of an inch taxes any trained machinist's skill. But one Gladewater grandmother earns $3.89 an hour while putting in a five-day week at LTV's Gregg County Plant, located adjacent to the Gregg County Airport near here.

Mrs. Ruth Melton, who lives with her family at 607 N. Wood Street is described by her foreman, James C. [my dad--K.M.], as the equal of any male machinist in LTV's immaculate, air conditioned machine shop.

What's more, her male workmates give her the respect she has earned the hard way--by her ability to produce near flawless machined parts. This is no mean feat; each part is subject to stringent and exhaustive quality control inspection before acceptance.

Mrs. Melton, the mother of four including James, 20; Cathy, 18; Freddie, 14, and also seven year-old Angela also manages to keep house and assist her husband, James in his roofing business. The two eldest are married and have twice made her a grandmother.

She has worked for LTV for the past four years but learned her highly skilled trade in California. She has a total of some eight years experience as a machinist since she was first hired on as a trainee in a California shop. Al her experience she learned on the job. A Gladewater native and a 1950 Union Grove High School graduate, she says and her family enjoy living in her home town after some years in California.

But she enjoys her work even more. "I love my work," she says, "I get treated like a lady. LTV hired me when no one else would."

The huge Dallas-based firm which makes A-7 and S3-A submarine hunter aircraft for the Navy and other hardware for the space program has a program stressing equal opportunity. The Gregg County Plant employs about 145 machinists and other precision machine tool operators and turns out finished machined parts for several types of aircraft.

Mrs. Melton says she is never troubled by men looking down on her and her work.. [Yes, there were two periods at the end of that sentence in the printed version of this.--K.M.] She insists she is treated as a skilled worker on the job and has never experienced any male predjudice.

Her foreman agrees. "She works right along with the best of them," he said, adding that she reads complicated blueprints and "sets up" her lathe without any assistance.

She takes an extremely dim view of womens liberation movement, emphatically disclaiming any sympathy for the movement's aims.

Mrs. Melton, long active in her local union served as union recording secretary and lately was elected by fellow members as the only woman serving on the board of trustees.

Okay, so many things freak me out about this article.

1) This was written only 34 years ago, but this thing sounds like it was written in 1950. Right? I mean, this was during my lifetime. Crazy.

2) $3.89 an hour. Jesus Christ. AND she had to take care of the two kids were still living at home and I'm sure her husband as well. But does she support the Women's Lib movement? Oh no... Wow.

3) The condescending tone of this thing is just nauseating.

4) Can you believe all the personal stuff about her they put in there? Her address? Her family members' names and ages? I'm surprised it didn't include her phone number and weight in the article. It really WAS a different world back then...

5) It bugged the SHIT out of me that it constantly referred to her as "MRS. Ruth Melton" instead of just "Ruth Melton."

6) That's one of the few pictures I have of my dad without his 70s porn star moustache that he kept waaaaaaaaaaay after the 70s.

Royal Masquerade Ball, 1987

Malcontent Mama threw down the prom gauntlet. I had no choice but to respond in kind. So here goes:

Me and my prom date. This guy, who we'll call "MD," was my on-again/off-again boyfriend for a big chunk of my junior and senior years in highschool. He was a year older, and went to the rival highschool across town. He was really rich, and his mom hated me because I wasn't. Anyway, ours was a pretty typical highschool relationship, complete with drama and numerous breakups. He was already a freshman at U.T. when he agreed to come home and attend prom with me. I remember being SO relieved with how big I was able to get my hair for prom. That is some HAIR, now.

My dress was a silk charmeuse tunic with a large sash. It was purchased at a hoity-toity store where a couple of friends of mine worked. The shoes were dyed to match the sash, of course. It wasn't the typical "prom dress"--especially not in late 80s northeast Texas. It was more of a "cocktail dress," and I thought it was tres glamorous. It was pretty but not overtly sexy, and as I didn't have any curves I really wanted to show off, it was fairly appropriate. I do recall hearing that a friend of mine was talking behind my back, criticizing it at the time because of its atypical-ness. Yeah, I wasn't much into taffeta. So sue me. I have looked at photos some friends from this prom, and I gotta say, the white tux with tails, cane and top hat, and the ubiquitous "pouf" dress of this era don't hold up so well under scrutiny nearly 20 years later.

MD and I went to dinner at a swanky place downtown, and somehow managed to order a bottle of wine, no problem. Then we went to prom, and I remember it being fun but really geeky. I didn't want to stay for long because a) I wanted to make out with MD and b) I was sort of embarassed to have my "college" boyfriend attending my highschool event--embarassed for him, not for me. I don't recall anyone being "coked up" as Malcontent Mama recalled, but I do recall ecstacy being taken (not by me...I don't think) and BUTTLOADS of winecoolers being consumed. And I recall this photo being taken in front of the seriously stupid backdrop.

I love how I'm digging my fingernail into the top of his hand in this photo. Says a lot, really.

After spending an adequate amount of time at the prom, MD and I went back to his house. We were supposed to go to some school-sponsored after-party thing and went to change clothes. Of course we ended up getting naked and showering together, but we didn't "do it," although I really, really wanted to. I was still a virgin at this point, and wanted to be deflowered in a major way...on prom night and everything. But it wasn't to be. Sigh. We eventually ended up getting dressed, making a very brief appearance at the "after party" thing (lame...several people asked my why my hair was wet, heh heh), then out to his parents' lake house where a bunch of his college frat brothers were already there, drunker than cooter brown. I recall there being a couple of other girls there as well. There were no parents around, so it was sort of a free for all--hot-tubbing, making out on the trampoline, bong hitting, etc. I ended up spending the night with him out there (which was cool), but left the next morning, hungover, virtue still in tact. I wish I had a really scandalous prom story, but alas. I was fairly boring and typical for my era.

He's now an attorney back in my home town. Married to a nice gal he literally grew up with...they have a couple of kids. I haven't seen him in 100 years, but rumor has it he's losing his hair.

Okay, Jules. It's your turn. Dig 'em out, and show 'em off.

My weird friend Mike.

In junior high and high school, I was friends--just friends--with this guy, Mike M. who was a grade ahead of me. We wrote notes back and forth, but that was pretty much it as I recall. I have a bunch of notes from him in my Notebook from the Gods. Here's a pretty typical one:

Karla May,
You are lucky I am writing you. I am reviewing in English. The bell is gonna ring in 10 minutes. I am freaking out and going crazy. I swear. I need to find a mental institution. I love you with all my heart. Let's elope tomorrow. Let's go to the show, or you don't have to if you want to go with JASON or some other dude. I will be mad though. I have to go.

--Mike

P.S. Let's fuck
P.S.S. I'm just kidding, SILLY.

There are SO many more notes from this guy that are waaaaaaaaaay weirder. But what if my mom had found this one...with the "let's fuck"? Yikes.

The Summer of '83.

August 29, 1983

I talked to Lisa last night until 2:30. I got in trouble as usual. We got into a big fight (mom and me). She thinks I am some kind of a thug or something. She can be the biggest witch.
I still like Michael S. If he doesn't call me today or tonight, I am going to go crazy. I really do like him alot (sic). Lisa is so upset about Chris Y. I really feel sorry for her. I know what she is going through and I feel so bad for her. She loves Chris. And she told me last night that she might move. I can't believe it. She'll know for sure in November. I've grown so close to Lisa in the past few months, and I don't know what I would do if it all suddenly ended and she just moved.* I really hope she and Chris get to be friends again. She wants that so much.
Michael said he would call (or maybe even come by after swimming). I hope he does. I want him to like me as much as I like him. It always seems like I like the guys more than they like me. I hate that.**

*Lisa and I are still dear friends, by the way. Have been since we were in Montessori school together.
**God! Boys. Boys. Boys. The life of a 14 year old girl just fucking SUCKS.