Val’s Road Ten Year Anniversary

I can’t believe it, but it’s been ten years since I wrote my first post in 2011. For a fun and a long trip down memory lane, I decided to revisit my 200+ posts and pick my favorite from each year to share with you again.

To save space, I omitted all the photos. However, if you want to see the complete post with photos, go to my front page, click on the Val’s Archive button, and select the month/year of the article. 

2011 (January)  How to Tell if You’ve Had a Great Vacation

On your first day back to work you can’t help but notice that your office building looks like a prison (all that cement, windows that don’t open, guards at doors).

You sit in your car for a long time. You only get out because you know a security camera is focused on your car.

You walk the halls telling your vacation stories to co-workers (even to ones you don’t like). When they get sick of you, you start making lunch plans with vendors.

You download all your vacation photos into a slide show on your computer (and get startled again and again when your reverie is interrupted).

Your tour books are still in your purse.

You keep listening to the bagpipe CD in your car (no one will drive with you anymore).

You dream that Elizabeth Gilbert’s publisher will call you to fund a year of travel so you can write your own version of EAT, PRAY, LOVE.

2012 (January)  I’m Old & I Know It

Thanks to LMFAO for the inspiration for the title of this post. Interestingly enough, we both have things that jiggle, but in different places. I’m not so old that I had to think too hard about what LMFAO stands for, but I am old enough to have a list of things to share for the New Year. So to answer the question, how old are you?  I’m so old that…

1. I just learned that LOL can mean laughing out loud, not lots of love…..

2. When I go to Macy’s, the mannequins scare me.  (Especially in the young men’s department).

3. Last time I was in line at Ross, I started doing a “I got it for less at Ross” commercial with someone in line.  (Folks were actually looking for hidden cameras.)

4. I eat the same thing for breakfast every day (it’s boring and I know it).

5. I still don’t know when someone has left me a voicemail message on my cell phone.

6. I put mascara on my eyebrows to cover the gray and none on my eyelashes.

7. I tell waitresses that they look like movie stars so I can get better service (or a free dessert).

8. I recently learned that beer is dated when it was born rather than when it expires.

9. I get excited when I remember a “valspeak” from the 80’s.  For example, I was cleaning some guck out of my sink drain and I said to myself “this is grody to the max.”

10. Putting on a pair of pantyhose is almost an aerobic exercise. (2021 Update:  who wears pantyhose anymore?)

2013 (March) Things that go bump (or shut) in the Night

Twice in the past two months, something strange has occurred in my house. The door to my office has been shut during the night. The first time this happened I thought I must have shut it before I went to bed. This is not something I do, but heck I’m getting old, maybe I did that one time.

It happened again on the morning of St. Patrick’s Day. This time I was a little weirded out. I opened the door. Everything was as I left it the night before. Because I like to have a reasonable explanation for things, and I am married to an engineer, I did a little experiment. I took the door and gave it a good swing. It barely made it to the door frame. It did not shut tight, the way I found it both times.

That left me with a dilemma. This did not happen on its own. No windows were open nor was the heater on that night. I even checked for earthquake activity. And although it was St. Patrick’s Day, there was not a leprechaun in sight.

So now I’ve checked into Spookyville. Like spirits from the other side. We have the ashes of a relative in the house. Or perhaps this is a warning from my deceased mother or grandmother. I have been writing about them lately. Not all of it is very nice stuff. Are they telling me to close the door on the past?

I had to talk about it to everyone I saw that day. I was quite surprised to find out most people have some kind of ghost story or psychic experience to share. Although I find this extremely fascinating when it happens to other people, I don’t want it to happen to me.

My daughter made me a heavy bookend in her sculpture class last year. It is of a sitting dog. It is now my office door guard dog. If I find that door closed again, it will be time for sage burning and spirit removal ceremonies. I just can’t say the “e……t” word. Linda Blair, you scared the dickens out of me.

Update:  When I brought the urn to the funeral home, I mentioned the door problem to the staff.  They said they heard weird stories like that all the time. And guess what? Once those ashes were out of the house, the door stopped shutting on its own.

2014 (February) The Gifts You Leave Behind

Every couple of years or so, on the anniversary of my mother’s birthday, I receive an unexpected gift. I might hear a song that reminds me of her, have an odd dream, or catch a glimpse of her when I look in the mirror.

This year, as I was getting ready for a night at the opera, a childhood memory time traveled 45 years to reach me.

It happened in the kitchen of our old house in New England. I was drawn there because my mother was playing an album. I’d never heard her play anything but the radio. The music was loud and unfamiliar.

With four kids under ten years of age, my mother valued her alone time. Trying not to disturb her, I found the album cover. It was Madame Butterfly. I listened because she listened, but didn’t understand a word. At the first break between songs, I asked her a quick question: “How can you understand a song in other language?”

Her answer surprised me. “It’s opera. You feel it.” This was a rare and intimate moment. Not a moment between a mother and daughter, but a moment between my mother and the place opera took her to.

I’ve had my share of intimate opera moments and am surprised that memory eluded me. I’m not sure when I’ll get another time capsule gift from the past, but it made me wonder what gifts I’ll leave behind.

2015 (July) Cab Driver Takes Me to Church

Last Friday night, I arrived home to San Diego. My UBER app wasn’t working and I had to take a cab home. It was 11 p.m. local time, but for my body, it was 2:00 a.m. In other words, I was tired. Even though I’d just spent ten days in hospitals and nursing homes with my dad, my giving time wasn’t over.

My cab driver told me he didn’t think he was going to work on Saturday and Sunday because it was Gay Pride weekend in San Diego. Well, that woke me right up. I like to try and understand why people have prejudices, so I asked him to explain.

He said he was a Christian man and the bible was against homosexuality. More than that, he worried that if his children ever saw gay people they would become gay, as if being gay was something you could catch. He backed up that belief by stating that men turn gay in prison. So I took a deep breath, told him my story, and tried to speak his language.

When he understood that I had been a born again, went to bible school, and hated the judgmental person that I’d become, he started to listen. Patiently, I explained that gay is not a choice. It is how a child is wired. I was able to emphasize my point because I know these children and have seen them grow up. As for men in prison that rape each other, those aren’t men who turned gay; they are violent criminals who will leave the prison as heterosexual men.

But what I really wanted to leave him with was the word “love.” God wants us to love each other regardless of our sexual orientation. And all of us should have a choice, whether we are gay or straight, to worship God freely.

As I got out of the taxi, I encouraged him to keep his heart big and his mind open. I may have paid double for my ride home, but if anything I said helped break down my cab driver’s prejudice, it was money well spent.

2016 (January) Quotes to Start 2016

It’s been four years since I posted some of my favorite quotes. So, with the start of 2016, I’d like to share a few more on writing, anger, resentment and forgiveness.

“Never write about a place until you’re away from it, because that gives you perspective.”
Ernest Hemingway

“How much more grievous are the consequences of our anger than the acts which arouse it.”
Marcus Aurelius

“Resentment is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemies.” Nelson Mandela

“Forgiveness is giving up the hope that the past could have been any different, it’s accepting the past for what it was, and using this moment and this time to help yourself move forward.”
Borrowed by Oprah Winfrey*

*I first heard this quote on a show about twin sisters who were raped by their brothers and then their father. Their mother knew and did nothing. It was heart-wrenching. Oprah’s hope for the twins was that their past would not break their spirits.

2017 (July) How to Describe the Sagrada Familia

Some moments in life make lasting impressions:

The day Mother Nature amazes you with her palate of colors during peak foliage season or with a spectacular sunset.

Your heart skips a beat and you realize you’ve fallen in love.

You wonder at the marvel of life when your newborn is placed in your arms.

And then there are moments that you don’t expect at all. This happened on a visit to the Sagrada Familia, an unfinished basilica in Barcelona. Designed by Antoni Gaudi, an illustrious architect from Catalonia, I shook my head at the exterior. It reminded me of a huge sand castle.

It was the interior of the Sagrada Familia that took me by complete surprise. Unlike other churches with statues, stained-glass biblical scenes, and other religious symbols, Gaudi used light as his tool. Words like magical, dreamy, and heavenly aren’t adequate to describe the effect. Gaudi brought nature inside the church and it touched my soul.

I’ve included a couple of my photos, but even those on the Sagrada Familia’s website cannot replicate how awe inspiring it truly is.

2018 (February) My Battle with a Door

I recently had a fight with a door and when it was over, the song called “I Fought the Law and the Law Won” got stuck in my head. It’s an oldie but goodie written by Sonny Curtis in the 60’s and covered by many bands. My two favorites are the versions by The Clash and Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.

Okay, back to my fight. I decided to rearrange some furniture in my house. This involved lugging mattresses up the staircase and moving a couch to another room. The couch wouldn’t fit through the doorframe so I took the door off the hinges. Easy peasy, I’ve seen my husband do it many times. I got all the required tools and did it. Yay me.

Happy with all the furniture rearrangements, it was time to put the door back on the hinges. Not so easy peasy. It is important to mention that I recently joined a gym because my doctor said I needed weight training to build up my skinny bones. As the youngest person in the senior fitness class and the only one totally bombing out, I succumbed to pressure (and humiliation) and hired a personal trainer.

I reversed my steps and heaved the door in place to line up the hinges. After wiggling and shoving it several times, I couldn’t get the top and bottom to line up. Hot and bothered now, the worse happened. The door started to tip into the room. I could not let that happen. It would have crashed into an antique hope chest, and I didn’t want to explain that damage to anyone.
My hands grabbed the side edges to steady it. I’m pretty sure it is safe to say that I weigh about the same as that wood door, and gravity was not my friend. As the door got heavier, my fingertips held the back of it for dear life. I said out loud, “I’m not going down with this door.” Then, I remembered something I heard in the senior fitness class and from my trainer. The words Use Your Core. I’m not sure what that really means, but I focused all my strength on standing up straight and was able to pull the door up with me.

I fought the door and I WON!!! My enemy is pictured below.

2019 (February) Alone at the Opera

I made a last minute decision to go to the opera on a Friday night in downtown San Diego. Those who live in this area know that driving downtown is a pain, but throw the Friday commute into the picture and double the time.

So after an hour and a half in my car (ignoring half of the ridiculous suggestions google maps offered to avoid traffic), I pulled into the parking structure. Side rant coming. There are only two parking structures I’ve ever got lost in, both in San Diego, and this is one of them. After taking careful mental notes on how to get back to my car, I exited to the street out a side door.

Lost! I had no idea where I was and to top it off, I have the worst sense of direction. This was when I saw a woman wearing evening attire walking the opposite way. Stopping her, I said, “Excuse me, you’re so nicely dressed, any chance you’re going to the opera?” She answered in a lovely accent that she was and let me follow her. I told her my dilemma about the parking structure and she agreed, saying she never parks in them because they are so confusing.

We parted to get our tickets and met again outside where we chatted over our dinner crepes from a food truck. A few moments later, another woman asked to join our table. At this point we all introduced ourselves. Rosalind was from England and Blanca was from Argentina. Blanca told us this was her first opera since going with her family as a child in Buenos Aires. Rosalind, on the other hand, had lost count of how many operas she’d been to. I loved that our trio covered three continents.

The San Diego Opera provides a pre-lecture before the show which we went to together. I’d never been to one before and must admit that it really helped. Although I enjoy the stories told in operas, I really go to hear the power of the orchestra and the big arias. Rigoletto is a difficult opera by Verdi. Reviewers say is “not for the faint-hearted.” It involves a hunchbacked court jester, a sexual predator duke, the slaying of two innocent young women…violent and tragic.

Our seats were in different sections of the Civic Center and we went our separate ways. When the orchestra started and the curtain rose, I was immersed in the story, but still waiting for the arias. The jester’s daughter sang “Cara Nome” with beauty and her high notes were heavenly. The duke (who we all hated by now) sung the popular “La Donna E Mobile.” That song stuck in my head all night long. Everyone knows this melody from films, commercials, and sporting events.

In my younger days, the thought of doing something alone conjured up negative self-esteem issues. I’m so glad I learned the value of doing things by myself. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met Rosalind or Blanca and I would’ve missed a wonderful opera.

2020 (December) Cenotaphs

On a day when I needed a change of scenery, I searched for a cemetery to visit. I found Greenwood Memorial Cemetery off Imperial Avenue in San Diego. With no traffic, it was only a 35 minute drive. I chose this cemetery for one reason, it has a private cenotaph. Cenotaph is a new term for me. It comes from the Greek for empty tomb. The full definition is: a monument to a person or people buried elsewhere. Many cenotaphs are built in memory of soldiers killed in war.

Before I get to the cenotaphs, a little history on Greenwood Memorial. This cemetery opened in 1907 in an unincorporated area and is spread over 125 acres. It houses some fabulous mausoleums, but because of Covid, I stayed outside.

Some notable citizens are buried here. One, with a fabulous statue, is Ulysses S. Grant, Jr. (1852-1929). He is the son of President Ulysses S. Grant, and he came to the San Diego area in 1893 for his wife’s health. Grant, Jr. built the U.S. Grant Hotel as a memorial to his father. The bronze Angel of Death is the work of Henry Lukeman, a prominent eastern sculptor. The intense angel holds a wilting lily.

Now for the purpose of my visit, to find the Tanzer Cenotaphs. Frederick Tanzer (1861-1938) and his wife purchased sixteen graves here to be used for memorials to their many relatives buried in Germany and elsewhere. After his wife was buried, Mr. Tanzer placed fifteen pieces of Carrara marble statuary on the site that he and his wife had planned as a memorial to their parents and many relatives. The statuary is a ‘Sermon of Love’ by Mr. Tanzer for his wife. Poor guy, he dedicated his life to this statuary and died a pauper.

In addition to this fascinating grouping of statues, I saw some other beauties and a cool elk along the way. To say the least, this was a rewarding visit.

Thanks for traveling on Val’s Road with me all these years!