Bit Tids February 2014

I've been bogged down with taxes and dealing with new job paperwork. Not too much blog worthy going on so, here's the latest Bit Tids from the Creekhiker.

Somebody's Got a Birthday Coming: 
Yep, Miss Mabel Lou, Queen Bitch of Everything will be 12 on Sunday. I'm dumbfounded. I've never been so lucky to have a super senior dog.  While there are signs that she's not in the best of health...her newest nickname is "Lumpy Lou" - I'm so blessed for every day we get together.  Daily, she is joyful, happy to see friends and energetic at several intervals. And always a drama queen! I'm trying not to see her failings and reminding myself that we're in the Bonus Round!

"I get such a headache when Mom works on the 'puter for too long! Doesn't she know it's time to creek??"

Times - They Are A Changin'

I got the new commercial production guide in the mail yesterday. This contains lists of every conceivable thing one might need to rent on the down and dirty fly of making a television commercial in Los Angeles. Last year's book is on the left; 2014 edition on the right.

I was immediately struck by the size difference. The new one is between 1/4 and 1/3 the size of last years. All sorts of things ran through my head about the state of production in Los Angeles. My mother takes great pride in telling me about all the productions going on near her house in Baton Rouge. But when I opened the new book, I was struck by the much thinner paper. That thing will never survive being tossed across a motorhome as many of my old books did.

The publisher offered up the explanation that "non-crucial" items such as Ice and Bus Rentals have been moved to the free website and taken out of the book.

Well, he's obviously never had to ice down a sidewalk that was melting crew members shoes on the fly or suddenly rent a bus when a company move became overly complicated. There's something about having all those contacts at my fingertips that was very comforting to me in production. I will miss the old, sturdy book chock-full of everything for sure.

My old 4+ pound book is on it's way to a film professor friend. I mail him my old books every year but I may be too embarrassed to bother next year.


Ding Dong! The, uh, nevermind................ She's Dead!

My father's wife died this week. I can't tell you the mix of emotions this brought up in me.

For those of you that have forgotten, I'm a love child. The result of an 18 year affair that I interrupted in year seven.  My father spent many nights and weekends with my mother and I and never once denied us or shunned us in the presence of anyone. I spent many nights with him in the home he shared with his wife and nosy child that I was... left certain of the separate lives they led.

And based on the account of many in the family - aunts, uncles, cousins - the marriage was never really a happy one, aside from the infidelity on both their parts. All of my father's siblings were told that the family business which supported them all would be dissolved if any of them were to divorce. My youngest uncle took pills and drank heavily when his wife threatened divorce, ending his life and saving the family business. Talk about pressure! My father grieved deeply over his brother until his own sudden death in 1975.

While my heart aches at the loss I know my siblings (the ones who deny my existence) must feel, I feel an odd relief that my own mother outlived her. While this woman never missed an opportunity to lash out at me or my mother since my father passed away, I have always behaved like the nice Southern Belle I was raised to be around her.

But now that she's gone, I feel invaded, slapped in the face, knowing that she is to be buried by my father and not by her first cousin she married after Daddy passed. That was my place to go and talk to him and I just hate knowing she might be listening.


SPELL IT!

When I discovered the above via Facebook at 8 pm... the only person I wanted was my mom. I hesitated, knowing it was just after 10 and she would have been asleep for hours by then. That lasted for about 10 seconds.

My mother is "purt near deaf" and is too cheap frugal to deal with hearing aids. We have hilarious conversations of misunderstanding several times a week, especially when she answers one of the ancient phones she owns and not one of the phones for the hard of hearing I have given her.

It went like this:

CH: Mother! Guess who died?
Mom: JEFF SMITH DIED???  (Jeff is her nephew she helped raise... the closest thing to a son my mother has! She was starting to cry!!!)

CH: NO MOM! GUESS who died?
Mom: JEFF??? NOOOO!

CH: NO, MOM!! I'm saying the word GUESS
Mom: SPELL IT!
CH: G - U - E - S - S
Mom: JEFF ... AND WHAT'S THE LAST NAME???

I realized that G became J and ESS sounded like EFF... My 90 year old mom was really upset now...

CH: NO MOM... LET'S START OVER! _____________________ IS DEAD!

My mom was quite relieved it was not her beloved nephew that had died.