Day 333 - June 27
Listening to: I’ll be Loving you Always
Thought for the day:
Did you know that true love adds to nothing
Her acceptance is a winning gain
Did you know that life is giving love again
to last you forever and another day ~ Stevie Wonder

Being a thinker of whimsy, I often let the concept of bad luck slip into my thought process. Being a Christian, I should know better. What can I say? It happens. The fact that there are so many broken things in my house both materially and emotionally begs the question, “is it bad luck or is it life?” Some days it is easier to say Que Sera Sera than others.

Yesterday, I went to get my hair cut. As the stylist was finishing, she started sweeping hair out from underneath the char that I still occupied. She gasped and said, “Do you know what it means when someone sweeps under you?” I said, “no, what?” She said, “it means you’ll never get married!” I was SUNK. I think I was depressed a good two hours afterward. I love my hairstylist, so I’ll get over it. However, the incident is still plaguing me. I’m wondering if never getting married again would be good luck or bad luck. I could choose to look down the good luck path, but the bad luck path has locked on me like a mad Medusa.

The whole experience led me to think about how many black cats have crossed my path, mirrors I have broken, salt I’ve spilled......superstition in general. Then, I saw this guy standing under the ladder today. It’s bad luck to walk under a ladder. Supposedly, back in the day, Christians would label you a witch for walking under a ladder because the action signified a disbelief in the Holy trinity? Wow. I’d say never marrying again is a much better lot than being labeled a witch. Then again, being labeled a witch would improve marital prospects if the witch could whoop up a big-screen tv and a pot roast dinner! At least there is some poor chap out there at the Piggly Wiggly who has broken a superstitious rule that is worse than mine!

The guy standing on top of the ladder may be the luckiest person alive since he didn’t fall! I’d get fired if I stood on the top of a ladder at DuPont! If I was this kid's mother, I'd have a flat out STROKE if I saw this. I guess that makes me lucky to not be his mother!

Day 335 - June 25
Listening to: Michael Jackson
Thought for the day: Faith, where are you?

The wording on this sign is definitely not stellar, but that’s not why it’s the photo of the day. It is the photo of the day because it is a deviant and poetic representation of the events that unfolded at DuPont land this week. The sign is located on company property (near yesterday’s featured manhole actually).

Yesterday, for the third time this year, the company announced a layoff. This time the corporate ax will whack approximately 40+ jobs at our site (there are many DuPont sites ‘round the world). Some employees will get to stay with the company, but they will have to transfer to other locations (most out of state). Others will be outright unemployed.

For now, it looks like I’m safe, but after three chunky layoffs in the mere space of one year, I am starting to think I have Post Layoff Traumatic Disorder, PLTD. My stomach is wrenching. I may hurl up my dinner tacos any minute. I’m so exhausted from saying goodbye that I don't think my lips can form the word anymore.

Emotional responses have covered the gamut. One man praised God and gave Him credit for saving his job. Another scoffed at the hand dealt to him. I asked the man praising God if God was any less present for those who had lost their jobs. He looked at me like a deer in headlights.

For those coworkers of mine whose futures are uncertain, I am praying for you. I also am praying for those of us who remain. We all need it.

OHHH……….btw, the sign is warning you to not ride on the side of a rail car unless you want to become a flat Stanley real quick-like. They should let the technical writer (me) choose the wording for the sign eh?

Day 336 - June 24
Listening to: Dream a Little Dream
Thought for the Day:
…….And I'm just about to drop it
Down that manhole of memories
When I realize it doesn't bother me ~Ani DiFranco

Manhole. That’s what it is! No, it’s not my new contraption to catch a man with teeth. Here’s the thing. The older the manhole cover, the more interesting it will be. I could make an analogy to men here, but I won’t. Next time you’re in an older part of a city, look down at the manhole covers. Chances are you will see street art if the covers have not been replaced with cookie cutter SEWER covers. It makes me sad that the newer versions are so mundane.

I’m not the only one interested in manholes (the street variety – don’t go gutter brain on me). Microsoft at one time included a question in their interview process asking why manholes are circular. If you have any interest in seeing the answers along with some other useless manhole trivia, visit http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manhole_cov

er. You might be surprised to find yourself drawn in to the mystery that is the manhole. Some manholes are steamy, some are not, some are big, some are small, some are……………errr nevermind.

The thought of a manhole is cool to me. Manholes could be the gateway to a bounty of treasure that has been sucked down into its depths over the years…………. especially in my hood. If it weren’t for my weak nerves and stomach, I might think it cool to be a sewer archeologist.

The featured manhole of the day is located at my place of employment. At first glance it appears to be uniform which would lead one to believe it was mass produced. Upon closer examination, however, it’s not uniform. This baby was home made! I suspect, based on the area where it is located, that it is a circa 1930s manhole cover.

There ya have it! Manhole mania. Start looking down now!

Day 338 - June 22
Listening to: The Only Exception
Thought for the day: Anything is better when shared.

Why is the water in the Caribbean so freaking blue? Every time I visit this part of the world, I’m gobsmacked by its beauty. So guess what? I Googled it. Note: my word processor does NOT like the phrase “I Googled it.” hee hee hee. Anyway…….. Google didn’t really dish out a direct answer. The answers range from there being a lack of algae in the water to there being no ocean current on steroids in this part of the world. I like the algae explanation. Apparently, algae promote the growth of iron. Water infused with iron causes it to appear dark baby-poo green. The Atlantic ocean, for example, is iron laden so it is pukey green. All I know is when you wake up on the second day of the cruise to the Caribbean, the water is so cartoonish blue that it’s unbelievable. It’s truly magical.

This photo was taken in Playa del Carmen, Mexico. We arrived here via a port called Calica. This port was the site of my haggling FAIL (see day 320) .

Thankfully, I have the memory of this beach that overshadows my haggling failure. The treat de jour on this day was a massage on the beach, a birthday gift from my travel companion. Originally, the massage was to occur in the ship spa, but when I saw massages being offered on the beach I hopped on it! Let me tell you, I’m not big into massages, but this was........well......I'm going all numb just thinkin' about it. I don’t think I can ever have a massage in a spa again. Having a year’s worth of stress being pounded out of your body while listening to gentle waves lapping the beach is indescribable. I highly recommend it. The best part though is that the massage was so cheap that my travel companion also participated in massage nirvana! A TWOFER!!! If you know anything about me at all, you know that I subscribe to the belief that anything is better when shared. This shared experience was no exception!

Day 339 - June 21
Listening to: Knock on Wood ……….it’s like thunder……… and lightnin’ ooooh oooh ooh ooh ooh (you know you’re singing it now too).
Thought for the day: God put eyes in the front of our head so we wouldn’t look backwards, but he made rear view mirrors for the occasional peek.

Cozumel

When a cruise ships pulls into a port of call, you can buy what is called an excursion. For those who have never cruised, an excursion is an activity such as a beach party, swimming with the dolphins, zip line through a forest, etc. They aren’t cheap.

Fortunately for me, my travel companion has a Carnival cruise line tattoo on his butt (not really, but he might as well). This cruise was his ninth Carnival cruise. He is experienced. His motto is basically, “excursion, smexucursion.” So, when we arrived at Cozumel, we bypassed the overpriced excursions and created our own adventure. We rented a jeep. Destination? We were going to the uninhabited side of the island

After about a 10 minute drive, the road dumped us out on to miles and miles of isolated sand and turquoise water. There were so few people on this side of the island that we were able to take a beach break with miles of beach to ourselves. The whole experience made me ponder the fate of the Gilligan’s Island characters. Why did they always walk around with so many clothes on? And why did we believe it? If my memory serves me correctly, the Skipper was even a shirt tucker. AS IF!!!!!!

After some carefree frolicking in the water, we made our way to one of the three restaurants. I use the word “restaurant” loosely. There is no electricity on this side of the island. Our restaurant of choice used a car battery for power. Not only were they using it to power their cookware, but they were watching World Cup Soccer too……..WITH A CAR BATTERY. Let me tell you, a car battery used to cook chicken tacos combined with an ocean view like the one above was a 5-star meal to me.

Day 340 - June 20
Listening to: silence
Thought for the day: Whatever is necessary is available (my Dad’s theory).

I went on a cruise last week to Mexico. My descent into post-cruise depression has officially begun. Post-cruise depression involves constantly saying to one’s self, “this time last week I was drinking umbrella drinks sliding my feet in the sand,” or some other lascivious activity.

Since my brain is lost somewhere in last week, I hope no one minds if I use photos from last week for my photos de jour this week. Today’s vacay photo relates to an experience I had with my Dad.

My Dad is a platinum member of the Haggler’s Club of America. His frequent haggler points are off the charts. When I was a wee child of eight, he took me to Tijuana, Mexico to teach me the trade. I watched anxiously as he demonstrated his skill while buying a shark skin wallet. The Mexican proprietor was asking $50. My Dad negotiated the price down to $10. I was amazed, yet horrified. In my mind, if the Mexican was asking $50 for the wallet, he needed the $50 to help feed his family. I was consumed with guilt despite my Dad explaining to me that the Mexicans expect haggling. Following the wallet purchase, the haggling spotlight was placed on me. Every daughter wants to impress their Dad, so I haggled. I got a deal. And then, I felt sick. I still feel sick about it to this day.

Last week, I ventured into a small flea-market at one of our stops in Mexico. I was immediately bombarded by Mexican vendors begging me to haggle. I haggled a little, but started having flashbacks to when I was eight. I ended up buying two items. I paid way too much. So, in typical Kris fashion, I rationalized the event by telling myself that I helped the vendors by paying too much. Maybe one less Mexican would go hungry that night. Of course, the vendors probably thought, "Stupid American."

You’ll never find my photo on the Haggler’s Club of America wall of fame. :-) My Dad will just have to be proud of my other accomplishments............ and I know he is.

BTW…… the “Dad” in “my Dad” is not suppose to be capitalized………..but for me………my Dad is always worthy of being capitalized! :-) Happy Father’s Day to all the Dads out there. You are all capital to me!

June 9 - Day 349
Listening to: my brain whining about no sleep
Thought for the day: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

I put my life in harm’s way today. I rode with Wes, my son, to the emissions testing center. I really should be posting a photo of my white knuckle-o-death clutch on the arm rest. Is there code in the parental DNA that causes us to automatically fear sitting in the passenger seat of our child’s car? I imagine neither of my parents would choose to stomach my Coo Coo Marlin driving ways. The positive part about being a passenger in Wes's car today is my right leg got a good workout from constantly trying to brake.

Today’s photo was taken at the testing facility. Since my cell phone camera is on the level of Fisher Price cameras, I will translate what the sign says. It says, “Each person in Nashville drives about 36 miles per day. Nashville consistently ranks near the top in the country for the most miles driven.” Wes was the first to point out that we rank so high because there is no form of rapid transit. We do have a commuter rail, but it is a caveman transit system in comparison to other cities.

I have always wanted to live in a city where there was a subway, Metro, L, Tube, M, T, etc. I have OWNED the rapid transit systems in London, Madrid, and D.C. (D.C. is my fave). Phhhhhhhhtttt…………. Who am I kidding? I live about a mile from where I work and in the past 13 years I have walked to work only once. ONCE! The one time I did walk, at least six coworkers stopped and asked me if I needed a ride. I’m almost embarrassed to share this fact especially in light of the fact the BP incident is shining a big giant spotlight on our craze for oil. Could we as Nashvillians end our love affairs with our cars if we had a subway?

June 6 - Day 352
Listening to: my janky dryer and tv noise
Thought for the day: People are lonely because they build walls instead of bridges.

I don’t know how many times I’ve driven across the bridge connecting Old Hickory and Madison. Dedicated in April of 1928, the bridge played a huge role in developing this area of Nashville.

Over the years, I’ve wondered what was inscribed on the towers at both ends. I did a Google search and this is what I found.

1927-28
OLD HICKORY
BRIDGE
Davidson County, Tenn
Litton Hickman, County Judge
County Highway Commission
Finley M Dorris Chairman
Joe S Boyd
John M O'Mohundro
Bridge Comittee:
B E McCarthy
Ira E Parker
Lou Huggins
T B Hargin

phhhhhhhhhfttt……….What? That’s it? Rattled by my old buddy skepticalina, I set out to look at the inscriptions myself. The towers are not exactly easy to access. The best part is no one honked at me, but maybe that’s not so good. What did I find? Sure enough, the almighty Google does not lie. I’m disappointed. I wonder if the descendants of these people listed even know these names are there. I have fantasized for years that the inscription was a profound quote or message, possibly metaphorical, about bridges. BTW…. The inscription is the same on both ends.

I have also wondered if someday someone will make an attempt to restore the towers to their former glory. Thousands of cars pass over the bridge daily without knowing that one time it was lined with lights. There were lights along the rails and at the tops of each of the towers. Word is you could see it from downtown Nashville because it was lit up like a Grizwold family Christmas. SADLY, there is nary a clue that these lights ever existed. Makes me wonder what the pedestrian bridge in downtown Nashville will look like 80 years from now. Look at these photos:

http://www.dupontalumni.org/albums/album

59.htm
http://www.dupontalumni.org/albums/album49.htm

If you look closely you can see the light fixtures.

If I had been in charge of this bridge construction, the names may still be there, but there would be a quote that said something like………. bridges of hope blah blah blah, or bridges bring worlds closer blah blah blah, or crossing the bridges of life blah blah blah…….. Okay, so maybe there’s a good reason there are only names inscribed.

June 7 - Day 351
Listening to: Carry That Weight (McCartney)
Thought for the day: With the tears a Land hath shed
Their graves should ever be green.
~Thomas Bailey Aldrich

Witness a victim of not only time, but also the financial crisis. Six months ago I found out this cemetery was in foreclosure. How does a bank foreclose on a freakin’ cemetery? It turns out the bank was as shocked about their expropriated property as I was. Thanks to Councilman Darren Jernigan , the property has been quick deeded to a rightful owner. The happy ending isn’t eminent yet, however. Father Time has had his own confiscation in mind. The cemetery is a mess.

So, who is buried here and what’s the big deal? General Thomas Overton and his family are buried here.

The General is most known for his role as a second in the infamous Andrew Jackson vs. Charles Dickinson duel. Let’s think about this for a second. Stepping up to be a second means you’re willing to give your life for a friend. How many people would be willing to step up to be a second in this day and time?

Thomas was also the brother of Judge John Overton whose home, Traveller’s Rest, receives constant restoration efforts. I wonder why Thomas’s legacy hasn’t been as protected as well as his brother’s. Was he a rogue? Ironically, his homestead which was located near the cemetery was known as Soldier’s Rest. Unlike Traveller’s Rest, Soldier’s Rest is long gone. Today, it’s anything but a place for an old Revolutionary soldier to feel at rest.

For me, I don’t revere General Overton as a true friend to Andy or as a potentially interesting rogue. His role as a General in the Continental Army throughout the duration of the Revolutionary War is what carries the most weight in my heart. The Revolutionary War……….. the war of all wars…………the war that to this day defines the United States. He is a hero. His cemetery deserves better.

btw......
This cemetery is located on Donelson Avenue in Old Hickory, Tennessee (near the post office).

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June 7 - Day 351 Listening to: Carry That Weight (McCartney) Thought for the day: With the tears a Land hath shed Their graves should ever be green. ~Thomas Bailey Aldrich Witness a victim of not only time, but also the financial crisis. Six months ago I found out this cemetery was in foreclosure. How does a bank foreclose on a freakin’ cemetery? It turns out the bank was as shocked about their expropriated property as I was. Thanks to Councilman Darren Jernigan , the property has been quick deeded to a rightful owner. The happy ending isn’t eminent yet, however. Father Time has had his own confiscation in mind. The cemetery is a mess. So, who is buried here and what’s the big deal? General Thomas Overton and his family are buried here. The General is most known for his role as a second in the infamous Andrew Jackson vs. Charles Dickinson duel. Let’s think about this for a second. Stepping up to be a second means you’re willing to give your life for a friend. How many people would be willing to step up to be a second in this day and time? Thomas was also the brother of Judge John Overton whose home, Traveller’s Rest, receives constant restoration efforts. I wonder why Thomas’s legacy hasn’t been as protected as well as his brother’s. Was he a rogue? Ironically, his homestead which was located near the cemetery was known as Soldier’s Rest. Unlike Traveller’s Rest, Soldier’s Rest is long gone. Today, it’s anything but a place for an old Revolutionary soldier to feel at rest. For me, I don’t revere General Overton as a true friend to Andy or as a potentially interesting rogue. His role as a General in the Continental Army throughout the duration of the Revolutionary War is what carries the most weight in my heart. The Revolutionary War……….. the war of all wars…………the war that to this day defines the United States. He is a hero. His cemetery deserves better. btw...... This cemetery is located on Donelson Avenue in Old Hickory, Tennessee (near the post office).

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