A blog by Lori Lyons
Showing posts with label blogging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blogging. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 3, 2020

Once upon a blog






Once upon a time there was a blog.

It was a nice little blog called "The Lyons Din," a play on words for a woman named Lyons who wanted to make a little noise. It began as an outlet, a place where the woman could write the words that were frothing inside of her -- especially after some men in ties (and one well-dressed woman) told her she was no longer an employed writer for the former metropolitan daily newspaper.

But she was still a writer.

And writers gotta write. Right? Right.

So she figured out how to do it on the internet, where people could read it if they wanted to.

Sadly, she never figured out how to make any money doing it, so, it was for fun.

She wrote about her life, her daughter, her coach husband, occasionally her grown up stepkids, her mother-in-law and her mama.

She wrote about what life was like living with a baseball coach, then what it was like living with a man who was no longer a baseball coach, then was again.

She wrote about her daughter's growing pains (both literal and figurative), her birthdays, her adoption and her war with scoliosis and her leaving the nest to go off to college.

She wrote about being a full-time caretaker to two little old ladies.

She wrote about losing her job, looking for jobs, finding jobs, and leaving those jobs.

And, occasionally, people read what she wrote. Sometimes they laughed. Sometimes they cried. Sometimes they shared what she wrote, especially when she wrote about Mardi Gras and the Warrior Dash.

But mostly, people accidentally stumbled upon what she wrote when they Googled "big tits" and "mardi gras" and "warrior dash." A lot of people in Russia somehow read those posts.

But now, it has been a while since the woman named Lyons has made much noise. She's busy, you know. She has an empty nest. She has a new job, teaching new students at a new school how to write with proper punctuation and capitalization. Her husband has a new job coaching baseball at the same school. She has dogs. And a green pool. And not too much else.

There isn't much to write about. There isn't much inclination either. What once was a fountain of words frothing inside of her is now just a little bubbling that doesn't strain much to get out. She's tired.

And Russia has stopped reading.

And blogs have turned into vlogs and podcasts. No one has time to read funny little anecdotes anymore.

But, writer's gotta write. Right? So don't delete the bookmarks just yet, please. You just never know when the writer's gonna write.


Image result for the end clipart


Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Where Y'at?

Dear Little Blog (and my handful of loyal readers):

I have not forgotten you. I have not abandoned you. Yes, I do miss you. I miss telling tales of the little family in Norco -- of my girl, The Coach, the pool, the neurotic poodles. And Mama.

I just haven't needed you.

Sorry if that hurts your feelings, but it's the truth. I haven't felt the compelling need  to write about my life and my family and what's going on with us. Fortunately, that is in part because there hasn't been much going on.

When I was laid off from the job I loved and left adrift, I needed you. I needed a place to vent about what the company I had given my life to had done to me and so many of my co-workers. I needed a place to compare them to The Titanic. I needed a place to just write.

When, two weeks later, my mother-in-law moved in with us after being forced out of her assisted living home (because she needed too much assistance), I needed you.  I needed a place to tell my truths and vent some more about the hard-headed lady I was forced to care for. It was the biggest challenge of my life and I didn't always do it well. I needed an outlet for my anger and depression. And I needed all of your support to get through it. Honestly, I'm not sure I would have gotten through it without this little blog and all of your friendly voices telling me not to give up. So, thanks for that.

When I found out that my daughter's spine was horribly twisted and would require surgery, I needed  you. I needed to tell her story, in part because, well, I am still and will always be a reporter.  I felt a need to document Lora's scoliosis story, for one thing. And I saw an opportunity to educate. Some friends of ours in our town have a young daughter who was recently diagnosed and is facing the possibility of surgery. Because of my openness with our story, they knew they could come to us for help and guidance.

And as I faced this horrific surgery I knew was coming, again I needed  a place to vent and express my fear, my terror. And, once again, I found a great deal of love and support and information from those who read this little blog.

But now, all that is behind us. I've found rather steady work as a freelancer at a variety of news outlets and at my own alma mater, Loyola. For the past six months I've had a nice (paying) little part time temporary gig in the Public Affairs Office, learning an entirely new craft (PR) and practically an entire new language (higher education). At least I remembered how to parallel park from my days as a student.  And I'm still doing sports for a couple of newspapers and web sites. This is our new "normal." And now I may have a new freelance gig for a software company in Houston -- another craft and another language to learn. Perfect timing because Loyola is letting me go at the end of May. So, I am back on the job hunt. But I've also just begun a new River Parishes community news column for The New Orleans Advocate.

Lora is nine months post op and doing just great. Her back has healed nicely. She is in no pain. She does lean forward a bit and still to the side at times, but she is now a healthy, normal kid about to head off to high school. Who wants to wager that I'll be needing you then?

Instead of Coach's mama I've had to take some care of my own mama. She has had several health scares over the past few months, a couple of hospital visits. But at 81, she still has a full time job, still commutes to the French Quarter downtown and still plays with the tourists every day.

And I'm learning to live with an ex-coach.  It's been just about a year since my husband gave up his baseball team. It has been an adjustment. For both of us. I had to learn to live with him under my feet and in my space all the time. He has had to learn how to be a spectator. Neither of us did very well at that. He did fill some of his spare time by helping coach the golf team. But  I'm guessing he will be on a baseball field somewhere again rather soon. Or else we may be in divorce court.

So there you have it. My life in one simple blog post instead of many. Not much drama. Not much anguish. Should I knock wood?

But, dear readers, I do still need  you. While I was gone, my little blog got it's 200,000th hit. I have no idea how that happened (but I think I still need to thank the Russian bots). The Mardi Gras post still gets the most hits (largely thanks to the word that rhymes with hits). But folks are reading the scoliosis posts and, I hope, finding hope and encouragement.

So, please, don't give up on me just yet. I'll be back. I'm sure something is bound to happen soon.

Lo



Thursday, September 27, 2012

Whatcha gonna do?

Whatcha gonna do?

If only I had a dime for every time I've been asked that over the last few months, I wouldn't have to do anything.

What does one do after being heart-broken? Kicked to the curb? Dumped? Fired? Laid-off from a 26-year career as a sports writer/crime writer/clerk and toilet-paper-order at The Times-Picayune? A job -- a career -- that I loved.

There are some things I'd like to do:

I'd like to punch a couple of people in the nose:

Some men in ties.

Whoever came up with this cockamamie plan to scrap the metro daily in favor of a web site and gut the news room in the process.

The guy who decided I was unworthy. Or too worthy.

The guy who told me just two years ago that he "fought like hell" for me.

The coach who hangs up when I call him.

The grandmother of the athlete who reamed me out as I interviewed her grandson because, she insisted, I "obviously" like the other team more.


I'd like to smile and laugh and not be bitter or angry at the people who picked my name out of the hat -- or didn't.  But that's hard to do when they keep hiring people, younger people, to do the job I did so well and loved so much. 


I'd like to get really drunk. And I just might.

And then I'm gonna get up and dust myself off.

I'm gonna tackle some home-improvement projects around my house that have been neglected too long. I'm gonna paint my front door red.

I'm gonna launch the genealogy web site I've been tinkering with. Tell some of our family stories. Find a few more cousins.

I'm gonna be a sports writer again, this time for an upstart web site called riverparishfootball.com.  I can cover what I want, write as long as I want and there are no deadlines!

I'm gonna be free for a while. Try my hand at freelancing. There are stories out there. I'm willing to tell them. Someone should want to print them.

I'm gonna write another book. Maybe two. And work on the two children's books I've already written.

I'm gonna see if my late grandpa's little Christmas story and song is worth putting out there.

I'm gonna walk my dog in the mornings. Dance down the street. Get myself back in shape. And house-break this damn puppy.

I'm gonna figure out what I am now that I'm no longer, "Lori Lyons of The Times-Picayune." And what I want to be.

I probably will cry. And get drunk. And say some nasty words. And be hard to live with for a while (sorry, honey).

I will apply for jobs and rewrite my resume and cover letter. And get rejected. Or hear absolutely NOTHING. (Really?)

I will see if my dream from way back of being a teacher is something I really want to do.

I will swim in my pool and nap in my hammock and write in my pretty new blue room upstairs.

I will be a better mom.

I'm gonna have one helluva luau on Sunday.

And, if all that fails, I will move to the beach.




Monday, May 28, 2012

The Fickle Finger of Fate

The Flying Fickle Finger of Fate
So, apparently, I have a week.

A week to wait, to worry, to lie awake at night, to hold my breath, to hope for the best, to pray, to be scared to death.

To win the lottery.

A week (give or take) until the men in ties (and let's face it, they're all going to be men in ties and not women in pencil skirts) decide whether or not I am a journalist worth keeping as my employer moves to the digital age, to decide whether or not I have kept up enough.

A week to ask, do I want them to keep me, even though this venture is filled with uncertainty and, some say, doomed to failure? Or do I want them to let me go, so I can try something new, break my mold? Even after 25 years.

This certainly has been an ever-changing job. I went from part time clerk in the sports department, putting together agate pages, answering phones (and really stupid questions) to full time clerk who made all the travel arrangements for the "real" reporters and answered phones(and really stupid questions).

But I got to write a story or two.

Night golf with Morten Anderson (the pins glowed in the dark).

A local softball team that went to Russia to teach them how to play.

How to become an umpire.

Then I went to full time "real" reporter, covering high school sports. Football one day, volleyball the next. Or swimming, golf, tennis,basketball, soccer, track.

Baseball on a gorgeous spring day.

Sending stories from pay phones, borrowed phones, coaches' offices. A Pizza Hut.


I covered some wonderful events -- two Super Bowls, a Final Four, the French Quarter during the Final Four.

I covered a high school game that went through five overtimes (and I STILL got my story in the paper!)

A baseball game where a kid hit four home runs.
 
And some amazing athletes.


Ed Reed.

LaRon and Dawan Landry.

The Mannings.

Ryan Perrilloux.

A whole bunch of former Zephyrs.

The high school kid with a 95 mph fastball and whose teachers encouraged him to quit school and go for the major league baseball draft. He did, and got a $100,000 signing bonus, but didn't make it through training camp.
 
Then a man in a tie decided I was needed elsewhere. I was benched. Turned into a clerk, who answered phones (and really stupid questions), took payments, handed out garage sale kits, ordered the toilet paper, shopped for the annual Christmas party and waited for the Mayhem Guy to strike. At least it gave me time to hone my skills as a social media specialist.

And got to write stories I never would have before.

The inspiring high school principal who danced at her wedding despite losing her feet and her hands to a staph infection.

The high school girl who left her tiny home in Gramercy to travel the country as a red-headed basketball player back in the 1960s. (That one hasn't run yet.)

The woman who had her fund-raising flock of pink flamingos stolen.

The local man I didn't even know about who died in the Pentagon on September 11th.

And some I never wanted to, like the man who murdered his girlfriend, left her body in a car parked at the local hospital, locked himself in a shed and then shot himself.

Or the men who molested children.
 
So now I'm preparing for change again. What shall I do? What can I do? Sell shoes? Clean toilets? Teach children?

I always wanted to live at the beach. I could sell seashells by the seashore.

Or balloons at Disney World.


This is my DREAM job!


But let's face it. All I really want to do is write. That's how this blog was born. Then reborn after my last job change because I needed a place to do it. To tell stories.

And I will continue to do so.

I just don't know where.

That's up to the Fickle Finger of Fate.

To be continued ....
 




Sunday, November 13, 2011

Author in waiting

God has three answers to our prayers: 

       1.Yes

       2. Not yet

       3. I have something better in mind.
~ ~ ~ ~


There is a light at the end of the tunnel.

A dream is about to come true.

And I can hardly believe it.

I am about to become a published author.

In the matter of just a few weeks, "Adopting in America: The Diary of a Mom in Waiting" will be available for purchase on Amazon.com and CreateSpace.com. Maybe even in a bookstore near you.

It is the unbelievable yet absolutely true story of how my husband, Marty, and I adopted our now-10-year-old daughter. On our own. Only our closest family and friends know all that we went through to find her and to bring her home, how many promises were broken, how many hopes proved false, how deep was our despair at times.

But we persevered. We found our miracle. And we simply can't imagine our life without her. I'm not even ashamed to admit that I still cry at my own ending.

And, much like our adoption story, this publication story has been an incredible journey in itself.

Some authors might say that seeing their book delivered in print is akin to giving birth to a child. I can say it's much like how we adopted one. It has been a journey filled with trials and tribulations, promises made and broken, and long empty silences.

Almost three years ago, as I was about to become the mother of an 8-year-old, I decided to post on this very blog a snippet of a computer journal I had kept during the many, many months Marty and I waited and hoped and tried to become parents together. I needed a place to vent.

Soon after sharing a little of my angst, my dear cousin, Dr. Bob Lochte, a college professor over in Murray, Kentucky, sent me a message. "This is good," he said. "You should expand on this."

And a seed was planted. With his help and guidance, I started to work on it. Fill in the gaps, take out the mundane. Fix some of the typos.

I asked a few people to read it. Dr. Cousin Bob read it. Dr. Cousin Bob asked a few people to read it.

And, apparently, it was good.

I even had a friend who was trying to launch a big new TV and movie production studio. He read it and asked if I minded if he pitched it to Lifetime as a movie. I did not mind, I replied.

The first team of Lifetime people liked it! The second team passed. But boy that was a fun ride.

The rest of this ride, not so much. I tried the traditional path to publication.  That didn't work. We couldn't find a buyer. No one was interested in an adoption story, they said.

So, I found another way.

And just as in our adoption story, it took one woman with a vision to see it through. And a really cool designer.

I got tears in my eyes Friday afternoon when I saw the almost-final cover design. I got tears when I posted the final one on my Facebook page and watched the flood of congratulations pour in from friends and family.

But, just as I did in the days leading up to my daughter's birth, I am waiting, waiting to see the dream become a reality. Waiting for that book -- with my name on it -- on the outside.

Yes, I hope that you will buy it. I also hope that you will share it with anyone you know who is struggling with infertility, who is hoping to adopt and fearing that it will never happen for them. I know what that feels like. I know how much it hurts. I know what it's like when no one else in the entire world get it.

I get it.

And I'm here to say it can happen. Miracles do happen.

Just look at mine.




Linking up with my lovelies at LoveLinks!










Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Follow me!

I never was the kind of girl who made the first move.

No, I was the one who wasted years of my life sitting by the phone, waiting for him to call. And him. And him. And him....

Sigh. If we'd only had cell phones back then...

And I'm still that way today.

I'm not usually the one to make the first move. Even on Facebook, I'll stumble across an old friend, an old boyfriend, and old drinking buddy... But I'll wait for him to friend me rather than make the first move.

I wonder if that makes me cyber shy or something.

So it's not exactly in my nature to beg people to visit this little site or to become a dutiful follower.

But I'd really like you to.

It's not that I think I'm the world's greatest writer. Certainly not the world's greatest blogger.

But I could be.

The part of my brain that has been carrying me all these years, the creative part, the good part, has been turned off for a while. This was not by choice.

The powers-that-be at The Times-Picayune decided that my sports writing skills were no longer needed. Now I re-write the police blotter. And receipts.

So this little cyber space has become my new outlet. And you, my (as of today) seven followers, have become my audience. It's not that I don't love all seven of you, but I would like more.

Call it a cyber inferiority complex.

Of course, I know that not everyone likes to read pointless stories about my life and my family and my job.

But if you give me a chance, I might just entertain you once in a while.

But even if you don't, I'll keep writing.

I need the practice.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Dispatches from the Pink Room

I had forgotten about this... This little blog chronicling the life of my child...

I will remember it. And update it.

I promise.

Dispatches from the Pink Room